Jeung was always the first kid into anything new on the scene. First to dye his hair, first to get a lip piercing, first to get into (and then out of, as others picked up on the trend) a series of increasingly bewilderingly-named Euro dance trends.
Cousin Seung was always the second. Always second to his more glamorous, more daring relative. Always.
The way Seung tells it, it was him that saw the opportunity lying there and came up with the idea of putting the Blood Roses together, but it was Jeung who lifted the idea and ran with it, his status on the Waterfront club scene ensuring that it was him and not Seung who would be at the centre of the organisation. Seung was relegated to his familiar role as lieutenant and back-up man to Cousin Jeung. And then even that wasn't secure for him, as the rise and rise of Charlotte Bloodrose began. Jeung and Seung were blood-kin - the kind of blood that the Blood Roses were supposed to be all about - and had known each other all their lives. Seung had been loyal to Jeung all that time and now Jeung was starting to take advice from that little piece of scheming Virginia Gardens new money trash?
Shunted further into the sidelines while Jeung - and now Charlotte too - basked in the limelight of the Blood Roses' growing achievements, Cousin Seung's resentment grew.
It was the Lindochem courier heist that brought everything to a head. $30 million in bearer bonds being transported in an armoured van from Silverfield to Havalynd, a sweetener to the company from another corporate suitor in the proposed sell-off of one of their developing world subsidiary operations. It was Tyron Sennet who first picked up rumours of the deal. It was Byron Bloodrose who hacked the courier company's systems and scoped out the details of the time and route. It was Michael Simeone who found a broker in Europe who guaranteed that he would be able to sell the bonds back to their owners for as much as thirty cents on the dollar. Jeung and Charlotte would be leading the heist crew, with everything timed and planned to the usual Blood Roses perfect precision.
It was a trap. Justin Teng's pet ex-military strike team were waiting for them at the ambush point. Byron had picked up whispers about the op on the Praetorians' communications net, and managed to get a last-second warning to Jeung and Charlotte. They got out in time. Four other Blood Roses, including a school friend of Charlotte's, didn't.
Charlotte got mad. Said Seung had tipped off the Praetorians, hoping they would do what he didn't have the guts to do himself. Jeung wasn't sure, but it was only a matter of time before Charlotte sweet-talked him round to having Seung killed. Michael Simeone interceded, vetoing the idea - no wasteful internal warfare, particularly since there was no proof against Seung . Tyron Sennet stepped in and decided that it would be better for all concerned if Seung wasn't around. He was moved over to Havalynd, and given what he had always wanted; a budget, and a remit to start up Blood Roses operations in a territory of his own.
Did Seung set Jeung and Charlotte up to be killed by the Praetorians? How much did Simeone and Sennet know about what was going on, and just how unhappy would they be to see the fiery and unpredictable Jeung replaced by the far more malleable and controllable Seung? To know the answers to these questions, watch the kind of moves Seung is starting to out together down there in Havalynd.
Subject Are you sure you are supposed to be here?
Ive been checking into you, and cant see what youve done wrong to be sent to me. I usually only get all the rejects, but so far you seem capable enough.
Has my oh-so-beloved cousin Jeung actually made a mistake in sending you here, or am I supposed to think so, and hes really playing some deeper game?
Ill keep using you for the moment, and see which way the blade falls.
Please pass this on to your 'friends'
Are you one of cousin Jeungs spies? Im still not sure. Maybe you could remind him that no matter how many times he says otherwise it was me who came up with the idea for the Blood Roses, and him who stole it.
Or maybe you work for Charlotte? Then tell her shes flattering herself if she thinks Im the only Rose who hates her enough to have helped the Praetorians set up that ambush on her.
That should give her something to think about.
Im still watching you. Ill find out the truth soon enough.
How's life with the gruesome twosome?
How are things at the Waterfront?
Its not that Im forbidden to return. Its just that I have this concern that one of the Furies may accidentally shoot me in the head one night in the Rimbaud Room or the VIP lounge at Banshee.
Such tragic accidents do seem to befall those who displease Jeung and Charlotte.
Still, its amusing following their antics from here. Does Charlotte still want to be the next Sofia? (I hear the demo tracks she made with Suji were terrible.) Does Jeung still chase after every magazine cover photo-shoot he can get?
They really do deserve each other.
I know you dont work for Jeung. How? Lets say he isnt the only one with spies.
So he did make a mistake sending you to me. The same mistake he made in sending me here, too.
The Waterfront has its prizes, but its nothing compared to Havalynd . The competition is fiercer, though. Ghetto-trash G-Kings on one side, Praetorians on the other.
(And what opposition does Jeung have, in comparison? A gang of frat-boys - who he still hasnt been able to deal with.)
I created the Blood Roses. The new organization Im building here will be even stronger.
The power behind the throne
Good news. I've been talking with Tyron Sennet, and we both share the same high opinion of your abilities.
If you know who Tyron is, then you also know about cousin Jeung's embarrassing little secret; that he doesn't actually control the Roses.
Poor Jeung. He might have stolen the idea for the Blood Roses from me, but he was never bright enough to hold onto it. Him and Charlotte are like movie stars; beautiful but dumb, reading out words from someone else's script, acting out their roles at someone else's direction.
Tyron Sennet is the director, but even he's not in charge. His employer, Michael Simeone, is the money bankrolling this whole production.
Item Category Cost Rating Fairy Unlocks $0 0 Unlock: Dance Goth Unlocks $0 0 Brush Stroke 4 Unlocks $0 0 Brush Stroke 5 Unlocks $0 0 Brush Stroke 6 Unlocks $0 0 Brush Stroke 7 Unlocks $0 0 Brush Stroke 8 Unlocks $0 0 Spray Circle Unlocks $0 0 Daub Unlocks $0 0 Paint Circle Unlocks $0 0 Rough Texture Unlocks $0 0 Brush Circle Unlocks $0 0 Spatter 1 Unlocks $0 0 Spatter 2 Unlocks $0 0 Spatter 3 Unlocks $0 0 Shark Tooth Necklace Clothing $190 0 Dollar Necklace Clothing $3,990 0 Epinephrine Injector Consumable Items $0 0 Med Spray Consumable Items $0 0 Boom Box Consumable Items $0 0 Resupply Box (Large) Consumable Items $0 0 Mobile Cover Consumable Items $0 0 Satchel Charge Consumable Items $0 0
Subject Biography: Asylum (Part 1)
Abington Towers, on a headland looking out over the Nantego River was always intended as a place of refuge and sanctuary. Built in the 1870s by Isaiah Abington, enlightened member of a long established San Paro family of wealthy mercantile traders, it was founded on the principles of Utopian Philanthropy that were in vogue at the time among the moneyed classes. The wealth of three continents flowed through the trading hub of San Paro. The city had exploded in size and population in just a few decades. Families like the Abingtons reaped the benefits of this new prosperity, but men like Isaiah Abington were mindful that not everyone was so fortunate.
The rich lived in splendour. The poor lived in squalor, and suffered from a whole gamut of health problems and social maladies. Abington's interest was mental health, and San Paro's poorer districts provided no shortage of subjects for his study. Alcoholism, drug addiction, overcrowding and cultural dislocation among the city's waves of immigrant poor all contributed to fill up the hostels and refuges he established.
Finally, sinking a considerable portion of his share of the family fortune into it, he built Abington Towers. It was to be a fortress of sanity built on the same scale and design principles as the mills and foundries that formed the basis of the Abington fortune. Raw product - the dregs of San Paro; the destitute, the insane, the dangerously violent - entered it at one end, and, over the course of months or even years, passed through a system designed to heal them in mind and body and turn them into useful members of society. They were re-educated, morally, socially, spiritually. They were attended to by physicians and psychiatrists. They were taught rudimentary work skills and, if possible, a useful trade that would find them employment when they re-entered the outside world.
It was patronising and high-minded, born from the era's zeal for improving the lot of the poor and unfortunate, whether they wanted to be improved or not. It was crude and unproven. It was, by the standards of today, brainwashing and enforced social conditioning.
And, generally, it worked. At least for a while.
The Abington fortune vanished in the great financial crashes of the 1920s. With no more funds, the foundation that Isaiah Abington had left behind to ensure the safe running of the asylum after his death was forced to turn it over to the city of San Paro. The progressive and expensive principles on which the place had been founded were abandoned almost overnight by the city authorities, and Abington Towers quickly descended to the level of a institutionalized and publically-funded snakepit. Patients were routinely abused, mentally and physically, by untrained and uncaring staff who often treated their charges as if they were living exhibits in a zoo or human freakshow. To help pay for the place's upkeep, patients were also put to work on a variety of menial tasks. Abington's vision of a place of humane and progressive psychiatric care had now become both a workhouse and prison.
It took a scandal, and the large-scale loss of life, to finally close the place down. Taking advantage of its location on the banks of the Nantego, the authorities had a wharf constructed there during wartime, to help ease the problems of wartime shipping congestion around the main waterfront area. It was soon kept busy, with ships arriving daily for loading with essential wartime supplies. To help in the loading, an unscrupulous chief warden as all too happy to hire his patients out as makeshift longshoremen, despite their complete unsuitability for the task. The resulting disaster was almost inevitable; the mishandling of volatile munitions that were being loaded aboard a freighter set off a chain of explosions that devastated the wharf and killed dozens of patients. The resulting investigation by the federal authorities uncovered the decades of criminal mismanagement of the place, and quickly brought about its closure, although no federal money was forthcoming to provide the city with a replacement for its largest mental hospital.
Most of the surviving inmates, many of them more damaged than when they entered the place, were dumped back out onto the city streets. Many of them were dangerously violent. Just about all of them were severely mentally disturbed and in need of urgent help. Left to join the city's growing army of homeless, they would create problems on the streets that would continue for decades to come.
Abington Towers lay abandoned and derelict. Ironically, some of these former inmate patients, found their way back to it within a few months of its closure. It had been a place of refuge for them before. Now it was still a sanctuary or sorts from the violent and unforgiving world of the San Paro streets.
Next to find the place was the kids that formed the vanguard of the city's underground club scene. Turning their backs on the shallow elitist glamour of the clubs in the Needles or down on Shianxi, they first moved into the derelict warehouses of the Waterfront, starting the underground rave clubs there. The scene flourished, but the vanguard started moving out and leaving it behind when criminal gangs like the Blood Roses started moving in and turning the scene into their own royal court. The vanguard moved on, looking for somewhere distinct but remote, far from the cops and the gangs.
They found what they were looking for at Abington. Even though it was built like a fortress, it was too far away from the action to make a useful base of operations for any of the main street gangs. The SPPD had it on their radar - it had long been a refuge for outcasts and fugitives - but it had been deemed low priority. There were too many other more pressing calls on Departmental resources to ever organise a full sweep of the place's labyrinth of corridors and galleries.
Soon those same spaces were stamped with the marks of its new occupants, and light and music blazed out of the Tower at night. Few outsiders noticed at first, but slowly word got out that something interesting was happening at Abington.
It was a place where you could do your own thing, free of interference from the cops, from the media, from the criminals, from the entrepreneurs and money men. Trends started there and burned themselves out over the course of a single long weekend, gone before the first blog reports of them were ever written.
Half a dozen club parties could be happening at any one time inside its spacious galleries. Headland. Psi-KO. INsanity. Trance/Send. The Snakepit. ECT. Thorazeen. Rephuge. Psycho-Tropic. They came and went faster than anyone could keep track of them. Some of flourished and moved on, exporting some of the scene happening at the Tower to the underground club night circuit back in the city. They always came back to where they started, though, and every time they did they brought new recruits with them.
STABBA is a low-profile non-lethal weapons manufacturer, working on commercialising non-lethal weapons research conducted by government departments and enforcement agencies. Much of their work revolves around taking firing-range prototypes and generating civil applications for security and law enforcement, as well as military-grade combat systems. Accidents and deaths caused by testing have plagued their development cycles, as well as negative press when weapons are deployed in the field. Pictures of Danny Bukowski - who suffocated in a 'giant glue ball' when hit with their 'foam-pack' weapon during anti-Security-Act riots in San Paro in 2008 - still haunt the company to this day. 'Bukowski Glue Ball' is currently number 17 for downloads on You'veBeenMaimed.com. The foam-pack product, developed in partnership with Somatic and the SPPD, has since been recalled.
Name Stages Final Stage GANGLAND ANNEXATION 4 TerritoryControl STANDING OUT FROM THE CROWD 4 Bombing THE ARTISTRY OF THE SPRAYCAN 3 Graffiti NO SERVICE? NO STORE! 4 Graffiti SPARE WHEELS 4 MovingTarget CASH FOR CLUNKERS 4 TerritoryControl R. O. A. R. 3 Graffiti WAR OF THE WAGGLE 4 Escort ALL IN A TWIZZY 5 Escort GUN RUN GANG 3 TakeOverDeathmatch CONFLAGRATE TO ACCUMULATE 4 TerritoryControl THE BIG CONTE 5 TerritoryControl DOUGH FOR THE DOORMAN 5 MovingTarget DINNER DATE 4 TerritoryControl EXEC EXPRESS 4 TerritoryControl DIRT ON THE DEPARTMENT 6 Delivery JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED 6 Delivery IT'S A STEAL! 5 Deathmatch BLIND JUSTICE 4 Graffiti DELIVER THE LIVER 5 MovingTarget LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME 4 TakeOverDeathmatch PAY UP OR BLOW UP 6 Deathmatch TIGER TROUBLE 5 Deathmatch SEA MIST 4 TakeOverDeathmatch THE HOBBY HOODS 6 Deathmatch A TAX ATTACK 6 TakeOverDeathmatch CREME DE LA CRIME 10 Delivery MAKING A RACKET 5 TerritoryControl FAMILY FUN DAY 4 TakeOverDeathmatch STEREO TYPES 5 MovingTarget GOODY GUNDROPS 5 Deathmatch MAH-JONG MONEY 4 Delivery THE PRICE OF FAME 5 MovingTarget POWDER TRAIL 3 Deathmatch POP3 A CAP 5 TakeOverDeathmatch BUTTON MASHERS 3 MovingTarget UP THE ARSENAL 5 TerritoryControl LET US SPRAY 4 TerritoryControl I AM NOT A CROOK 6 Deathmatch TASTYBURGER BANDIT 5 Deathmatch EYEWITNESS TESTIMONY 7 TakeOverDeathmatch KLEPTOMANIA 5 TerritoryControl A BLOOD ROSE WITH A BADGE 5 TerritoryControl DO THE GAS CASH MASH 4 MovingTarget CRYING OVER SPILT MAGNESIUM 5 Delivery SHOCK FOR THE JOCK 3 TakeOverDeathmatch A DISH BEST SERVED COLD 3 TakeOverDeathmatch THE BIG SCOOP 5 TerritoryControl THAT TV'S BIGGER THAN MY HOUSE 5 TerritoryControl SPRAY TO PLAY 3 TerritoryControl
Level Name 10 Kill More Enforcers (10 Joker Tickets)
It's kind of a thing for us to kill Enforcers. So how about you get the fuck out there, <col: Yellow>kill 3 Enforcers with your secondary weapon</col> and then give yourself a nice pat on the back for doing such a good job...
Kill <col: Yellow>3</col> enemies with your secondary.