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Eseen's face, full of confusion and anxiety changed to one somewhat disturbingly more welcome when Joe showed up beside her. In one hand she wielded a hunting knife, in the other a single shot gun. Combined with the large grin encompassing her face, everything about her was disconcerning to say the least.

"You're my bestest imaginary friend!" The girl exclaimed in response to Joe's question. She hadn't caught the guy's name, nor knew anything about him, but the urge to wrap her arms around his arm and cling to him became apparent. With the walls of her inhibitions already withered away by the alcohol, she gave into the urge without a second thought.

It wasn't long before she realised this position took quite a bit more effort than previously thought and she found her grip slipping while gravity took its toll once again on her balance. In almost a flash, she was on the ground again, with her arms still wrapped around Joe, except the bottom half of his leg, easily mistaken for his arm.

Shortly after, the unmistakable signs, the sound of long, drawn out breaths and lightly shut eyes pointed to her body finally succumbing entirely to the effects of what she had drunk. She had passed out on Joe and was now drooling down his jeans onto his shoe.

A figure stands outside the dinggy club. He observes the flashing neon lights and sounds of the digitalized city before walking inside. The noise became muted and muffled through the walls of the club. The figure then looked around. Hmmm... He gave a long sigh. I'm still not used to going into public places without some kind of knot in my stomach. Oh well, I'd better get used to it. He slowly walked up to the bar and observed all of the activites in the club. Men were drinking their worries away while the women chatted and entertained the men. People were also taking magic pills to take them to another dimension of reality. The figure then sits down on one of the cylindrical stools. He checks his arms. The gray lines run down the arm like thick rivers of silicon. He smiles, checking everything. Hopefully, I can get a job somewhere.

Over Comm: "Mark, get everyone that's willing to have some gun fun away from the doors and every one else out those doors. We have a really high powered cyborg here and who knows what she brought with her. Prepare for the worst."
Leocadia then pulls out her Al-com remote and shuts off the music and walls and switches on the flood lights. "Everyone: Thank you for your time at the Grand Re-opening party. I hope you had fun, but due to a security breach, we need to ask for everyone to leave in a calm and orderly manner through the main doors." The main doors have special scanners that allow anyone linked up to LEVIATHAN to know what kind of weapons and cybernetics anyone that walks through them has. She could kick herself for not activating it earlier.
"Sometimes I miss my desk job." She mutters to herself as she reaches behind the bar and pulls out a vibro-katana kept for security. "I don't care what she's made up, this thing doesn't stop when it bites." Again, to herself with a smile.

From a rooftop across the way from Cyberia, the leader of the CCO Special Security Force frowns.
"Andro, call in Clean Up, by the crowd that the building was spewing out its doors, we're too late to stop Subject 04 from contacting Ranewater Calder. There's going to be a mess to clean up any way it turns. Make sure the full enforcement of the Koto Media Restriction is taken and have City Hall release a cloud of Nano-optic fog to prevent anyone taking a peek. The rest of you, I want a full level 5 parameter set up around this quadrant of KK, scan every cyberbrain wanting to get out and overwrite what we don't want out." He hasn't sweat on the job in a long time, but his goggles are already on the verge of fogging. "Now I said! The s**t is going to hit the fan any minute now."

The fog machines finally kick off, allowing a full view of what is left of the club. A handful of those willing to fight are left looking at the dance floor. Just over a dozen 'clubbers' never left the floor. The ones that are left are those that work for Wintermute, a handful of illegal cyborgs and barely flesh humans that have allied themselves with the AI to provide a well equipped and well trained personal army at her whim. Its completely quiet for just a few seconds before the whirling of servos and such fill the open room with a ominous hum like a swarm of hungry wasps.
The fight begins.

[[ Please no god-modding here. Everyone make up one or two guys to fight and do what you want with them. Team up with other players, or whatever, just don't get in each other's way. Remember, try to be unique and have fun with it, all out brawls are suppose to be fun! ]]

Asher, who had slipped into the bathroom upon arrival to the club, located far in the back, had been caught up in the crowd, and was at such an angle that making it to the door while avoiding the mob forming on the dance floor would be impossible. Panicked, she ducked behind the bar and hid.

'Fun, my a**' she muttered, curling into a ball as far beneath the bar as she could manage. 'I am going to *kill* Simone. Messily. Bloodily. Painfully.' She winced as the first sounds of a fight broke out above and behind her head, letting out a little whimper. 'omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod...'

Trau checked his uzi and felt the relaxing deep 'click' of the magazine sliding into place. He had probably a few good solid sprays before he'd be out, so he had to make them count. Then it was between him, his blade, and the dampeners that he knew he'd have to use. His synapses flared like a struck match, and his fingers twitched as he looked across the panicked club.

"So...uh...which ones are the "bad" guys?" He could see definite sides being formed, but the sides looked unbalanced-- patrons were fighting off the staff, which seemed a little strange. And then he realized that the patrons were holding their own...and they were metallic under their torn skin.

"FRAGGIN' HELL! Cyborgs?" He dodged behind a table, and then popped up, taking close aim on a cyborg head. "To live life by clichés is to utter, 'Say hello to my little friend'." Trau released a spray of uzi shells, filling one of the cyborg heads with enough shot to make it rattle like a paint can. And then...

*click*

*click*

*click*

"s**t."

Mark ducks back under with an evil smirk on his face
"This is going to be fun" he thinks to himself as he activates his Beetle. He then notices Asher whimpering in the corner of the bar. He then takes off the Bettle exo-shell and hands it towards her.

"Here takes this, activate it and run for the door the exo-shell it creates should protect you, I'll also give you some covering fire so you may escape safely." He said calmly, his mood changed from pumped to calm real quickly because he didn't want to see a innocent get hit in the crossfire. His mini-gun was still spinning a bit from recent shots fired as well as a few 50 cal shells were on the floor and bar counter.