Ranger22

"If the most quietest method you have to take care of that guard is to fire your pistol, then I think it would be better for us to simply just wait until he passes again then hurry our way towards our friend." Whitetip had whispered to Rose as he kept most of his body concealed and out of sight from the patrolling guard. If these guys wanted presence, they certainly know how to make a first impression, Whitetip had thought to himself. The mercenary wondered if there was a way to take out the guard quietly, as long as the hallways didn't echo with gunfire the group shouldn't really worry about a rapid response team gunning after our heads. Even if he did take that course of action, Whitetip didn't know how quickly he could kill the cyborg with his kabar without letting it firing off its stupid head. With a sigh, Whitetip simply chose to sit and wait for the guard to pass by, hoping his team would be patient enough to wait it out. If there was one thing Whitetip learned from his time in Dahl, it would be knowing how to wait. "Yeah, I think it would be best for us to wait," Whitetip whispered to Rose as he kept his back to the wall, looking back every so often to check on the guard. After about a minute of listening to the heavy hoofsteps of metallic feet it had eventually dissipated into a more subtle and faint sound. Whitetip had took one more look and found the hallway empty. The griffon gave a signal to Rose and began moving towards the stallion's position quite quickly. Luckily for Whitetip, the rustling of his armor seemed to mesh well with the noise of his cyborg buddy further down the hall. Whitetip had eventually made his to the stallion's position, letting off a quick sigh. "Where to next?"

"It's a missile launcher Rose, a very antiquated missile launcher attached to the neck of a robo-pony. If you can take that thing out I'd appreciate it, however if you don't do it quietly we might be facing a lot more than one of these things. Hint, firing your gun even with a silencer is a pretty bad idea right now." The griffon had quickly managed to mouth off to the mare next to him. The robo-pony had eventually walked out of sight, it's hoofsteps were still quite audible however. The stallion had taken the opportunity to make his way further left down the hallway and out of sight. In but a brief moment the stallion peered back into our vision and gave off a signal urging the two to follow him. Whitetip prepared to move but the metallic hoofsteps were now audibly louder then they once were. The griffon hugged his cover and quickly peered out, the cyborg was making his way back near their position. Damn, at least we know the thing has a patrol pattern. Whitetip stuck his head out and shook his head, hoping the stallion understood what he was trying to signify. Whitetip had sighed and gripped his pistol and knife, turning his head to Rose. "Like I said earlier, if you've got anything to put this thing down quietly I want you to be ready to use it. We can wait for it to pass by again but we don't know if this thing is gonna take a different course of action in the next couple of seconds or so." Whitetip said to Rose as he peeked out once more to get a better position of the cyborg. Whitetip honestly hoped Rose had something up her metaphorical and possibly literal sleeve. The griffon had no problem blasting his way through this facility but he'd would like not having to blow away the main mission plan in just a few seconds due to something silly, especially when they could have done something about it in general. The griffon chuckled a bit, seeing himself make such a fuss over one sentry was amusing in its own way.

I gave a nod of approval after Rose gave her two cents, I expected the stallion to give off a response but he was instead by the wall and carefully removing the panel that blocked our entry way. I gave a gesture to Rose for her to follow as I drew my knife and pistol, hugging the wall parallel to the stallion's current position. Before he could make any movements or further gestures the echo of hoofsteps rung nearby, noticeably heavy hoofsteps. The stallion had wrapped himself in his shadowy tendrils, peering off carefully around the corner. Whitetip hadn't the luxury of such an ability, he instead hugged the wall tighter. Curiosity bested him, taking a cautious peek at whomever was patrolling the metallic halls. Normally the rustling of Whitetip's armor would have been more noticeable, luckily the guard was making more noise walking than Whitetip could ever have by simply moving. What the mercenary saw didn't surprise him as much as he thought it would have, it didn't make the sight any less horrifying. A pony body covered head to hoof in cybernetic enhancements, what flesh left was a scarred and disgusting mess. Its head now replaced with a think tank occupied by a brain, the tank resting casually on a missile launcher of the tediore variety. Whitetip's stomach had churned even for the briefest moment, not at the cyborg but at the thought there was something worse yet to be seen. The griffon however quickly regained control of his thoughts and began brainstorming of ways to handle this new threat in the most beneficial manner. Unfortunately, Whitetip didn't know much about this new threats anatomy or combat capability/durability. The griffon stopped peaking and began scratching at his helmet as he tried analyzing his new opponent, overhearing the stallion's sentence in the process. Whitetip had tried thinking of any times in the past he had to face things of a similar caliber to the abomination in front of him. He remembered fighting cyborgs in the past, however they were more flesh than metallic parts. The closest thing the griffon could compare it too was plain old robots or the freaky projects made during the clap-tr4p revolution a while back. It had the body of a pony yet it was mostly metallic, more often than not such a being would be more durable than a standard person. Ignoring the fact such a creation was a hell of a downgrade compared to a well made combat loader it had sluggish movements and Whitetip had no doubt that he had the ability to demolish such a thing into scrap, however he didn't think he could do so quietly. Especially when he put into consideration that the missile launcher head thing was of a tediore variety, well known to explode after running out of ammunition. Whitetip still didn't have the knowledge of its patrol routes nor did he think he had the ability to acquire said information currently, with a sigh he turned to Rose and whispered. "I can take it out easily enough but I don't think I can do so quietly, you got a trick up your sleeve?"

Whitetip looked at the mare's offer and simply couldn't help but let out a quick chuckle. The reasoning for it wasn't particularly malicious it was just that Whitetip had gotten so use to digitizing technology he had forgotten that there was a decent amount of people who didn't know about it or have it in their possession. "Thanks for the offer but you don't got to worry about that one bit," Whitetip had said as his guns seemingly disappeared out of thin air into his backpack. "My main concern was this suit of mine, plates are thick so it might be a tight fit in those tunnels," Whitetip added, giving a light tap to his chest plate. He still didn't know much about the mare but so far she was being fairly civilized and the mercenary couldn't complain about that. "You know what? I'm just gonna go in ahead of ya." The griffon placed his armored talons on the mare's shoulder for a brief moment before stepping in front of her and ducking down into the passageway provided by the stallion. Whitetip grunted as he tried forcing himself into the tunnel, it took a few tries but eventually he managed to squeeze his entire body inside. It was dark, and horrifyingly tight, even more so for the armored bird. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, allowing the griffon to see a few feet ahead of him. With a grunt he began pulling himself forward, the noise from his breathing and contact with the passageways walls ever more prevalent due to the constricting space surrounding his large form. The griffon was making more progress than he'd anticipated earlier, though the height of the passageway forced Whitetip to duck his head and bend his back a bit, keeping his pace at a general slog. Nothing he wasn't used to but it was still a pain to make the effort anyway, luckily for Whitetip the passage started to raise in height allowing the bird to regain his more comfortable posture. There was a noticeable difference at the end of the hallway, and the height of the passageway wasn't the one Whitetip was thinking about. The temperature had gotten drastically lower, a layer of frost proving this to be true. Looking around Whitetip had noticed the black stallion at the end of the passage, black eel like tendrils sprouting from underneath the stallion's coat and a black mist irradiating off his body. So this is what he used when his shields were down, the griffon thought to himself. It was freaky to say the least, but truth be told it honestly just made the stallion more of a scientific curiosity. Whitetip could understand why some people would find him intimidating, but to him the stallion just looked like a walking jellyfish. The griffon's train of thought was interrupted however as the stallion brought up their mission strategy. "Well I don't know what the mare wants exactly, but I'm pretty sure she would want us to stay subtle and out of sight. Avoiding any guards we can and silently killing whoever we can't. I don't know what type of security set ups they have besides the checkpoints, if you can give us any extra information like camera set ups or patrol routes it would help greatly." The griffon had said his piece and began setting himself up for whatever incursions they'd run into. Whitetip had pulled out his pistol and began attaching a silencer to its muzzle on top of the typical observation of its current quality, the silencer wouldn't help dampen the noise in the facilities hallways but it would at least keep the entire facility from hearing him if he absolutely needed to use it. What the griffon had planned to mainly use however was his kabar knife and his own talons. Whitetip considered using his rifle, but he wasn't too sure how wide/large the facilities corridors and halls were and decided to settle with his pistol for a quicker draw and better maneuverability. This was it, one more mission on Pandora and another pay check on its way. It was an unorthodox job but hopefully compensation would be just as unorthodox(more money) Hopefully Rose would be ready too, he didn't exactly like seeing partners die on him.

Whitetip should have expected a common sense answer like that, but if he was going to be honest to himself his career as a gun for hire had been absolutely nothing but. The stallion had pushed a button on his crate which further revealed another hidden entrance to what seemed like an endless black hole. What's next, after a mile underground was there gonna be a treasure chest which lead to the other side of Pandora? The griffon had simply nodded at the stallion's advice and peered down into the hole as he went inside after saying his piece. "I've handled VIP work before, at least this time my VIP can use a gun," the griffon yelled down the hole before the stallion gave off more information to the two still outside of the tunnel. What the griffon heard was a bit troublesome. Quiet? That was something the griffon wasn't too confident he was capable of doing too well with his current equipment, and hell if he was going to ditch it at the entrance. One checkpoint was tough, but four without getting caught was going to be a stretch for the armored mercenary. Even if they met less resistance on the way, they would eventually have to fight every living and nonliving thing inside the facility after they had reached the lab, which according to the stallion might have some huge monsters that could eat trucks. (AKA being forced to go loud) Making the whole endeavor seemingly useless in the griffon's eyes. Even with his equipment the griffon knew he could pull through with some effort, it was more or less the idea of being outpaced by someone that made him uncomfortable. Whitetip had guessed that it was a pride thing, being a marine in DAHL's private military had left him with a competitive side despite it cooling over in the past few years. The griffon had towed away his guns and pulled out his tucked away kabar. The knife was simple and efficient, it even served him longer than his rifle did. It would be enough, it worked on drugged up insurgents it would work on some wacky techno cultist. (He never did like the sword handed out to sergeants) Whitetip had once again took a peak at the tunnel the stallion went into, who was impossible to see in the darkness. Taking a look at his smaller companion the griffon had felt that she would do well with the plan the stallion had created. She had replaced her shield with the one in the crate, even grabbed the pistols as well. Made sense, gal was smart enough to take generosity at face value and adapt to her situations. "I think you should go in before me. I'm gonna be moving at a snails pace inside that tunnel, wouldn't want to slow you guys down too much." Whitetip had said to Rose as he mentally prepared himself for the slog that was moving inside the tight tunnel with his armor.

"Then I guess I have to apologize for assuming and not asking you," Whitetip earnestly said as he paced behind the stallion. Most would of not have cared about the specifics or details about an individuals position in the workforce. Whitetip was different, being a mercenary he understood not wanting to affiliated with whomever he worked with at the time, stay independent, and be considered as such. It was simply common sense to pick sides and leave as soon as the job was done, unfortunately that didn't stop others from bearing grudges and trying to take revenge on behalf of someone killed by the merc. Also, the freedom given to an individual as an independent contractor was pretty favorable compared to being just another number. Then again, everybody working with or for a business is practically a number inside a log. With this information in mind the griffon simply apologized and kept following the stallion to their location. After a bit more walking the stallion came to a stop. In front of the team was a large pile of rocks and metallic scrap, as if the two fused together in an unholy combination of mother nature and some greased covered mechanic who had a crush on his sister. The stallion walked up to it with a sense of familiarity, letting one know that this was a place he had been before, ignoring the fact that he said the group had reached their destination. He poked at the formation seemingly at random, revealing the inside of a hidden compartment inside the junk heap. The stallion had swapped some of his equipment and offered what was left for grabs. Compared to the standard merc arsenal and store bought issued guns: what was inside was impressive. All were custom made and it was very obvious that each piece was created with care. They were in a minor state of disrepair as a consequence of leaving them stuffed inside a hole for a while but they were serviceable. Whitetip would have been persuaded in taking one under his wing if he was a younger griffon-simply to have more weapons to his name-but as of late the griffon had grown accustomed to his current arsenal. Pulling out his dahl rifle he compared it to the vladof tucked cozily in the crate, with a simple snort as a response the griffon walked away from the crate, choosing to keep his trusty scoped rifle and other armaments. "So, where do we go from here?" The dahl rifle would be enough, it had always been enough for the griffon to get by. The stopping power it had was impressive, throw some slag and whatever the merc faced was usually dead within seconds. Plus, it helped that the gun was given to him as a gift by someone very important to Whitetip. Loyalty had always been a griffon thing, and Whitetip has yet to give up his trusty scoped rifle.

"Practically everyone knows about Eridium on Pandora, has a market for it back in New Haven as I'm sure you know. It works wonders as an energy source as Hyperion proved, and weapons using it are powerful and even more powerful. How this group of yours got away with enough Eridium to fuel their experiments without Hyperion sending orbital bombardments on their asses is beyond me. But whatever they got going down there ain't CEO approved and I plan to get some bonus pay from some yellow striped chumps. If these guys got new ways to tinker with Hyperion's favorite mineral I'll see to it that they learn to share." The griffon in had no particular loyalties to Hyperion, they weren't exactly the safest company to work under. But if there was room for more money he'd take it, if Hyperion tried to pull a fast one he'd simply just kill whoever is sent to deal with him and wear some spiffy new yellow armor. Whitetip had gotten over the groups logical existence in the amount of time the group had been walking, but with every tidbit of information given the griffon had more annoying questions come to mind. Like, how the hell did Hyperion let some up start company they owned do unapproved research behind their back and divert precious Eridium resources on Pandora? If one thing could be said about the bastards it'll be that they destroyed anything that could possibly undercut them with brutal efficiency, yet these psychos were sitting pretty eating glue and crayons! Back when he was serving Dahl things were simple. Guard the VIP, control riots, or take out the insurgents before they do too much damage. The reasoning for so were simple and made sense. But as soon as he flew his feathered ass into space and went freelance almost everything he had dealt with afterwards was bizarre or unnecessarily intricate. Truth be told the merc liked that about his job, but sometimes a taste of normalcy was required to keep ones sanity. With a sigh the griffon once again took the information given to him and stored it for future use. He did a quick equipment check as habit permitted as he followed the stallion and Rose. Elemental weapons were a common enough sight, and weren't a problem if the user was killed quickly. The dahl power armor he had on his body was protection enough. His rifle would do well in putting down pony sized threats, and his elemental weapon would help whittle down anything bigger. If things got hairy a rocket launcher and grenades were ready to be digitized and used. The griffon felt a sense of confidence in his arsenal, one had to in order to succeed in these types of missions. What stuck in the griffon's mind however was Rose, what brand what her hat? The griffon simply smirked and kept silent as he followed the stallion, he felt that wherever they were heading was close.

So around his late twenties and an egghead to boot, plus whatever freaky power he used when the drone got involved. This stallion was full of surprises and Whitetip was enjoying every bit of it. The stallion's combat capabilities seemed more developed than one would expect out of a scientist, but Pandora had a way of weeding out the weak in a short period of time. The griffon simply nodded his head in response to the stallion's response. After a bit of walking and silence the stallion spoke up a brought up some new information about the facility and its inhabitants. It was to say the least peculiar, whatever the scientist underground were up to they seemed to have had enough free time to make some wacky stuff. "So these guys like taking menial crap and turning it into weird and dangerous new technologies? Man these guys have got a lot of time on their hands. I honestly expect no less from scientist on a planet like Pandora, everyone here is fricking crazy. Eitherway, I doubt any of us will be using any of their faculties so you don't gotta worry about that one bit." Whitetip would of stayed quiet after saying his peace but Rose's question and look of worry made the griffon feel some doubt about the bravery of his companion, though on second thought a cyborg army would turn many individuals away. "On top of her question do ya mind telling us what type of weaponry these goons are armed with? Judging from what you've told me I have a fair idea of what we'll be facing but if there is anything more you can tell us we'll have a better chance of taking down whatever meets us underground." The most technologically advanced opponents Whitetip had faced were top of the line robots/turrets and agents equipped with expensive gizmos funded by corporations. Considering the fellas underground were cut off from the large sums of money their parent company Whitetip assumed they had nothing too out of this world. Limited resources grew creativity however and whatever they had guarding the base would probably be fairly unorthodox. However, the griffon was not discouraged at the thought, he was more focused on how he'd benefit from the results of the assault.

The clothed stallion's information dump was to say the least very informative. It gave the mercenary a fairly descriptive list of what the three would face inside the research facility. Truth be told the thought of giant cybernetic monstrosities and advanced weaponry would have made the griffon think twice, if it weren't for the fact that he not only fought such freaks of nature but also worked with those who employ them, a la Hyperion corporation and Tediore. But there were a few parts of the stallion's dialogue that had caught the griffon's curiousity. For example, if they were to assault the facility and destroy it why bother with stealth? The initial advantage of an unexpected assault would quickly wither away the deeper the team went down with automated security also in mind. Also, if the freaks were as secluded/paranoid and technologically advanced as they were why wouldn't they be able to track individuals on foot? Even if they couldn't one would assume they would have a good defense set up for just that reason alone, why bother walking and go save time? In the end those were just minor gripes the griffon had and were more personal preference than any in depth tactical thinking on his part. But, the griffon felt a small sense of relief knowing he had weapons for the enemies he'd have to face. However, he wasn't so sure on how long dusk Rose could last considering her lack of any heavy protection. Skill would trump any of his worries, the merc would just have to have fate. Not wanting to ruin a possibly genius plan on the stallion's part the griffon simply kept quiet about the matter entirely. Instead, just finding ways to past the time like he used to back while serving under Dahl. "Alright, walking it is.........how old are you anyway?" The griffon asked the stallion, with the thought of his earlier "kid" phrase during his info dump.

"Of course we have a plan ya little rascal, we follow whatever advice our friend has over here and fill whatever gets in our way with bullets and shrapnel. From what he'd describe I'd say almost almost every room is filled with turrets, cyborgs, and anything out of a science fiction horror! Truth be told I have no knowledge of this facilities layout or defenses, so I'm just gonna follow the stallion's lead and be prepared for anything. Bad plan, but a hasty mission like this is always badly planned, for me anyways." The griffon had said to Rose as he followed the stallion to the outer edges of New Haven. Suddenly, a notification had popped up on Whitetip's HUD, notifying him of the bases coordinates. It was a bit on the far side but it was nothing compared to the treks he had to face when he served under Dahl. "I usually fly to get to places so I don't have a vehicle, does anyone have a ride or am I gonna have to carry two ponies?" The griffon had asked after they got close to the gates of New Haven. The griffon could totally carry his to companions and their gear to their waypoint with a bit of a hassle but if he could avoid it he would. It was the quickest way but if his companions wanted to walking would have kept things simple, if not a bit on the lengthier side. "Or we could walk, a lovely little stroll just the three of us."

The griffon had heard the footsteps(hoof steps?) from behind him as he awaited Dusk Rose. With a sense of confidence he had felt that it was the mare approaching from behind him. With her statement following his own the griffon had been proven correct. "Not at all, it takes a bit to slip on a plate so your timing was quite adequate. Edgelord meet gumshoe and gumshoe meet edgelord. According to our black horse that may or may not be from a cherry tree we'll have to be quite the musketeers to make it out of this one without a scratch. I have confidence that with our skills combined we'll prove triumphant in this little mission." With his statement out of the way the griffon did a double check on his munitions and firearms quality. NOVA grenades, slag pistol, rocket launcher, and dahl rifle were all well loaded and ready for a firefight. The griffon had some idea of what he'd have to face but like any mission there were many uncertainties. Especially a mission the griffon had suddenly taken without hesitation or background knowledge, which funny enough was fairly common for the griffon. Jobs like these were mostly taken to satiate curiosity or for fun, something Whitetip often sought out in order to add some diversity to the monotony of his job.

Whitetip clicked his tongue in annoyance, he had found the whole situation itself quite ridiculous. Not only was this group claiming to be ATLAS, they were doing so with Hyperion around the corner. It wasn't that the company was working under Hyperion, they in their entirety was bought out, assets and all. Taking assets from Hyperion was a quick ticket to a knuckle supper made of metal and lasers. Logically this group shouldn't exist and that frustrated the griffon more than it had made him legitimately angry, if Hyperion weren't gonna do it Whitetip would. The griffon had placed his hand on Dusk's shoulder, "change of plans, we're wiping out a research facility, got you some nice pieces for just this scenario, not that I had planned it. Meet me outside when you're equipped." With that said and done Whitetip had followed the stallion outside of MOXXI'S and heard his explanation of the what he and Rose might face in ATLAS' little hole. "Not just you and I, we got one more to bolster our numbers, she may not look like it but she's quick on her hooves. Your worry is also understandable, but I assure you my skills are genuine, if I'm not as good as I sound feel free to loot my corpse." Whitetip had quickly assured the stallion in a sarcastic tone, Whitetip wasn't particularly impressed from what he heard. Not the first time he had took on a maximum security corporate facility, he'll have to see if the opposition could measure up to high end corporate money. "If you got the location just lead the way," Whitetip had said as he digistructed his dahl rifle and began inspecting it.

Emperor's text to speech device is a god send to the internet, its writing and voice acting is fantastic for what they pull of in the series.

Where and what was Canterlot? More importantly it seemed that this stallion knew a hell of a lot more about things then he'd let on, of course the knowledge was irrelevant to the griffon but info was info. What made the griffon wonder was why would ATLUS bother trying to keep assets on Pandora when their only military/security presence was all but eradicated. " You know something I don't great, I can understand a company not giving up stuff they find but you seem to be forgetting that ATLAS went bankrupt after getting their asses kicked by Hyperion in sales ever since their failures on Pandora. If you think that's some cover up by the company go and ask the thousands of employees laid off by ATLAS. Or even better, ask the corporate heads who sold the company off to Hyperion for chump change. Maybe you want to ask some of the bucket heads here how they feel about being abandoned by ATLAS due to the cost of flying them off?" "Point is ATLAS is old news, Hyperion is the big shot now and the loss of Jack won't change that one bit. But if there is some super duper secret ATLAS project or whatever that they can miraculously fund hidden somewhere in satan's asshole go ahead and prove it. You know what fuck it, the two bounties can wait, lets go check out this place of yours and mop up whatever these idiots can muster with the remnant of their strength. Finding this place is more realistic then finding an ATLAS gun for sale at a vendor." Whitetip had boldly ranted before he got up and ignored the stallion's offer of aid. Grabbing the bag holding Dusk Rose's new gear he had walked up to her and tossed the bag to her hooves. This stallion had gotten Whitetip curiousity and pumped it up full of air, at this rate he had felt that he needed to find out the stupid motherfucker who thought that he could do this under Hyperion's nose, doing so would probably net more money than the bounties anyway.

"Geez, you sure are very expressive. Almost every sentence is followed by a specific body movement, a brief drink here and a body turn there, like you're following a script from some stage play or something," Whitetip said with a chuckle. "But the truth of the matter is yes I am indeed a bounty hunter, and no I'm not after you but the two you got in the way for. I was merely interested in your involvement nothing more nothing less, so you go and save that little tinker box of yours from coming up with any more theories, I prefer to keep things straight anyway. If I tell lies often I might find myself believing them eventually. I noticed Dusk Rose coming in and hastily sitting down at a table, she had obviously spotted the stallion and viewed him as a threat, she was right of course. "Besides, ATLAS high tailed it out of here once the crimson lance got booted and the vault turned out to be a huge mess. With all assets packed up or abandoned on Pandora I highly doubt I'd get my reward anytime soon if at all for killing you, considering the cost of finding a new military organization to protect assets. I'm more interested in the two ponies you ran in to save, the watcher and the psycho if you will. Bunch of loons but someone wants em dead and a lot of money is on the table, I just wanted to know if you were friends with them or something so i didn't have to put effort into fighting ya." Whitetip had explained casually, the griffon hadn't wanted to give off Dusk's position due to the use it might provide, not that he believed he needed it.

Nyx? Wasn't the first time strange name that had greeted Whitetip, not that Whitetip was any more normal anyway. "Well, I only ask when said person obviously has a connection to the goals I currently have or at the very least a possible hint of connection. I think it's best to be straightforward when it comes to business so here I am talking to you Nyx. So tell me, why did you help those two individuals of interest down back on the streets. Why did you take time out of your day and risk your life to go help two wanted individuals. Surely aiding the two would put a target on your head would it not? It isn't the brightest idea making enemies with more than one big player." Whitetip was perplexed, truly curious about the mysterious stallion in front of him. If the stallion was picking a fight it made sense looking for help from skilled people. Even then, helping out wanted people, especially those wanted by a corporation was a risky business venture, one Whitetip had made before. But seriously, loud, reckless, and destructive? Those traits were literally the absolute worst to have when fighting big wigs. But something else had taken his attention, where was Dusk Rose? Surely MOXXI'S wasn't that difficult to find, with it being one of the if not only bars in town.

Whitetip took a moment to swallow the words given to him by the very motionless stallion in front of him. It didn't take the mercenary much time in order to decipher the stallion's meaning, at least the gist of it. So if he wasn't going to cash in on the bounty was he going to ally with the two? That would prove quite counter intuitive to the griffon's goal, but the stallion's actions weren't set in stone, if his overall goal was to strike back at a big wig he might overlook Whitetip's hunt if he proved more useful than the Watcher or the Psycho. The griffon did a scratched a part of his helmet where his cheek would of been before walking over to the bar and slapping down a couple of bills, "hard cider if you don't mind." As soon as a large mug of hard cider appeared in his face Dusk Rose had contacted his ECHO device. Feeling a bit of relief nothing happened he responded, "meet me at MOXXI'S, the only bar in town with a bright neon sign out on the front. I'll give you your equipment there, oh and I'm meeting with a guest so please mind your manners." The griffon cut off his ECHO afterwards and brought the mug to the stallion, "Here, first things first. The names Whitetip, pleasure to meet ya."

The photo Whitetip's drone had took of the stallion wasn't in the best quality, originally he had thought it was merely his drone's camera not being calibrated. Now Whitetip had figured out why the photo looked a bit dim, the stallion's entire outfit was coated in dark colors, black being the one color that stood out. The whole outfit was something Whitetip would expect from an edgy character with a dark backstory that some angst filled teenager would make on an echo sim, it was so surreal of a situation that the mercenary didn't exactly know how to approach the stallion. Though Whitetip appreciated the comedy that came from the scenario he had truly wanted to know the broody pony's take on the situation his drone had captured. Some morale obligation? An outward appearance of aid that would provide an advantage at a later date? The griffon could only guess, and since the pony seemed to be ignoring him asking was the only way to get an answer. "Hello there, now I know you you don't want me talking to you but would you please take some time from your day to answer a quick survey?" Whitetip had asked before taking a seat in front of the stallion. The merc obviously knew the risk that this interaction posed, however presenting himself in a light-hearted fashion was a tradition he tried his best to uphold to and keep alive. "Well not really a survey but a couple of straight forward questions that invade your privacy, I don't expect a truthful answer but I'll ask anyway. What is your reasons for trying to aid the ponies known as the watcher and the psycho?" Whitetip had asked in an outlandish and exaggerated manner, and judging from the stallion's appearance hostile action may just present itself. However, the merc was focused on finding answers, if blows came to blows he'd think about it then.

Whitetip had almost got off his stool until he had heard Dusk Rose's second sentence, "on second thought I'd rather you wait." On second thought? What had caused her to change her mind? The griffon thought to himself as he licked his beak after noticing some left over juice. She didn't seem the type to not call on help when she needed it, to keep things simple for himself the griffon chose not to look to deep into it and accept her request. Slapping down another couple of bills onto the table the griffon order another round of the sugary sweet beverage.(natural sugar of course) A brief moment and another glass was in front of him. With a smile Whitetip quickly gulped down the beverage in an efficient matter, much to his dismay that he couldn't savor the flavor longer. If the mare truly needed him, she would just give him a quick call, he knew her location so getting there wouldn't be too hard in an emergency. The merc decided to past the time by taking a scan of the bar like he did the last time he was there. The mare next to him was still trying to not make direct eye contact, it was understandable yet was still a little insulting. There were two Crimson raiders leaning on walls parallel to each other keeping an eye on the patrons, the merc was pretty sure they knew everyone in the establishment and were just there to look busy. The other patrons were having conversation within their own little circles or were drinking alone. Whitetip was about to order another drink before the corner of his eyes had spotted a particular individual. The merc put on his helmet and began approaching the stallion his drone had taken a picture of, this interaction would surely not result in anything bad happening the merc had thought to himself.

It took what Whitetip considered less than a minute before the bartender placed his drink down in front of him. The mercenary was impressed to say the least, the lady knew her bar and shelves, he expected no less from the mare who ran the only bar in New Haven. Whitetip inspected his drink, a tall glass filled with an thick orange liquid, with ice as a nice added touch. Ice? Who would of expected a death world to be packing such nice commodities? One could argue that guns are sold in mass quantities why not ice? A good question with a very simple answer, Pandora was called a death world for a reason. But then again, Pandora had many locations with snow and glaciers, so maybe his questions were just a waste of time and offered nothing more than a way to past time. The griffon grabbed the glass and quickly downed the sweet beverage, after his incident with Tediore he had began preferring drinks with more sugar than alcohol, or a nice cup of water instead. However, Whitetip had always preferred sugary drinks more than anything before the incident anyhow, the incident had just given him another excuse to avoid the bottle, with alcohol in it of course. After finishing his drink Whitetip had activated his ECHO's comm unit and contacted his new friend, who he now knew as Dusk Rose. "Hey it's Whitetip, got all your gear in a bag, I got a drink to pass the time. Do you want me to deliver your new armaments now or you want me to wait?"

It took Whitetip longer than he'd have liked but after a bit of searching and brow scratching the mercenary had finally found a vendor who sold armored plates. All had a digistruct design not to different from Tediore weapons, meaning after the plate's destruction it would replace itself after a significant amount of time. The plates themselves weren't too flexible but were small enough to be slipped underneath clothing without looking too obvious. With little other options he purchased one and placed it inside a bag he had also stored the pistol and smg he had bought for the mare. "It's like shopping for groceries, except instead of bread I have a 9mm death machine!" He had enthusiastically said to himself in a not so subtle manner, not that it was abnormal on Pandora. With a sense of accomplishment from getting everything on his wishlist he felt like he had to celebrate at least a little bit. After he had stuffed everything in his bag the griffon made his to the best bar in town, if not the only one. A large neon sign with the letters spelling out the name MOXXI in bright pink/purple colors. "Lets not get kicked out a second time me," Whitetip said in a cheerful tone. He walked in and tried not to make direct eye contact with the Crimson raider patrolling the bar. He sat his armored haunches down on one of the seats and ordered without looking at the bartender," A cup of fruit juice if ya got any." After ordering he placed a few bills on the table and began scanning the bar, to his surprise he found the mare from earlier sipping from her cup and trying to look away from his direction.

Whitetip was quickly given an answer to his question, get the ladies gear and make it mobile and subtle got it. He was also told to not go in the inn and investigate with her, not that he would be much use in that endeavor. After receiving all of the necessary information the griffon simply nodded and began heading for the market place, saying a few words before leaving. "Alright, I'll head off to the market and get you something suitable, if you need anything just call me on my echo frequency alright," I say to her as I give her a slip of paper with my echo code on it. She was playing nice as far as he knew, no signs of harmful intent,her goal was a mystery and might prove a fatal hindrance in the future, that was always the risk a griffon had to take in order to get help for a mission, a risk he took more often than not. But a more important question came to mind, who came up with the name inn? Seriously, it sounded way too similar to the more commonly used 'in', did the creator ran out of ideas for words? Whitetip left the inn entrance and made his way to the market in a quick pace, he wasn't in any rush he just liked getting to places quickly. Truth be told there weren't many stalls or individuals selling in person, mostly vending machines. A griffon knew a place was frontier when machines greeted a buyer other than a cashier. It added its own unique flavor to a buyer's experience, one that felt oddly corporate if that was any description. From what the mare told him and his own personal observations, a pistol would be her weapon of choice, an smg if she wanted to throw more bullets down her enemies way. Fuck it, why not get both? Was the simple solution to his problem. The griffon found a maliwan pistol with corrosive rounds and a dahl smg matched with hollow point bullets. Armor was another problem, good armor on Pandora was limited and the only reliable pieces of armor were looted from the Crimson Lance. Unless...Crimson lance assassin armor? No. there were far too few of them for their equipment to circulate a market. Still, it wouldn't hurt taking a look around, these people collect the strangest things.

Aaaand nothing, Whitetip had absolutely no one to rely on Pandora what so ever. The only connection he currently had on Pandora was the Hyperion corporation, and seeing how he was currently in the heart of the Crimson Raider territory Hyperion wasn't exactly someone he wanted to be in contact with. Whitetip simply sighed as he accepted his predicament and was content in knowing he still had all of his usual equipment, as well as a few upgrades to his turret before he jumped ship to Pandora. What Whitetip didn't know was that a trip to Pandora was usually a one way trip, money was no issue but he would probably have to replace his gear eventually. After checking and revising his contact list Whitetip was welcomed to a possible agreement from the mare. Though at the request of getting her equipment while she investigated the inn, or did she want him to get something light for himself and go into the inn with her? The mercenary wasn't ever any good at following orders that weren't up front and simple, to make things easier for himself the griffon simply asked the mare. "Sorry for having to ask but did you want me to get you equipment that was light and not noticeable or did you want me to get something light and not noticeable. Cause, I can help you with the first one, the latter is something I'm not particularly comfortable with," Whitetip said to the mare as he checked his equipment and money supply. Rocket launcher, rifle, elemental pistols. and singularity grenades, all of his gear were all there and accounted for. Armor was in good condition and sturdy, shield was in good condition as well, the mercenary felt that he was well equipped for whatever his bounties had to offer, oh and the mare as well.

Whitetip saw the mare's eyes grew wide as he explained his intention, it was a quick change and would have been easily missed if the mercenary was a less experienced individual. The mare had already regained her posture and was appropriately changing her body language to suit her current question. "It's a fairly simple deal I promise you, you help me with one task and I help you with one task. After we have accomplished both of our tasks no more will be asked of you. Also, if you're worrying about the level of danger we'll face in our tasks I'll personally purchase any weapons and armor you may need, think of it as a bonus." I explained to the mare, in truth the griffon didn't know what to expect out of the mare's favor but he hasn't broken one of his promises yet and hadn't planned to. He had fully planned on completing the mare's tasks, the griffon however was curious in what course of action his new friend would take. His offer now that he thought about it was a bit too gratuitous and dangerously dangerous in another's eyes. The griffon clicked his tongue in minor frustration as he noticed his mistake. The griffon was thinking of a way to make the partnership sound more trustworthy until a notification appeared on his ECHO log, the drone had sent a picture. A pony, well armed and seemingly encased in shadow, seemed like there was another new comer for the mercenary to worry about. The griffon hadn't planned on it, but maybe he had to take this job seriously. Bringing his wrist up Whitetip withdrew his drone and began checking what connections he had on Pandora.

"I can understand your doubt, but to be blunt I don't trust other hired guns when it comes to jobs with large payouts. Similar jobs create similar mindsets, and that makes partnership particularly dangerous. The reason why I came to you is because you don't look like a pony trying to scrounge up a living like the rest, like me. Your focused, I can tell you have something on your mind, a goal that you strive towards, a goal you would do a lot of things for in order to achieve. Truth be told I'm assuming out of my ass right now, but I believe that I can count on you if you accept this job. Of course I doubt you'd accept my job for something as simple as money, that's why I'm offering you something better, a favor. If you help me with my current task, then I'll help you with whatever you need. The order of which we help each other is up to you, but if you accept I expect you to carry through with that promise." The griffon understood full well that he'd just spat out a lot of words. Truth be told the griffon simply wanted more flavor in his life, he didn't mind other mercs but sometimes a bit of variety does well for a griffon's life as his mother had always said. The drone's shields began to falter as it was peppered with multiple high caliber rounds, and its targeting parameters could barely keep up with its target's speed. The first three shots had brought its shields dangerously low, the fourth round had done its job and shattered what remained of its shield. To the drone's luck the last round had only grazed its armored chassis, due to not being recalled by its master and being near death the drone turned to the pony who had first shot it and took a quick photo before opening its missile pods and unleashing a barrage of missiles towards the aggressor in a last ditch attempt to cause damage.