Revenge is Best Served Purple [Saint's Row] (Lucid & AlphaZero)

[Lucid]

Shaundi was sitting in her ex-boyfriend's apartment, the Saints first headquarters when they arrived in Steelport. It was where they started, and it also seemed to be where things were coming to an end. Killbane escaped their clutches, and Shaundi was livid with rage. She would normally rant openly about the Saints incompetence, but this was a special case. If the boss had gone after Killbane, she would have been dead. To think that she of all people would get captured at the worst possible moment... It made her sick just remembering it. No one blamed her but herself, but she wished someone would. Ever since Johnny died she hadn't been the same. Actually, her personality was shifting before that, but that was the moment that really made her abandon her fun-loving persona. If only she hadn't let him fight on his own, if only she were stronger, if only she convinced him that she could pilot the plane... If only, if only.

Part of her wanted to drink her troubles away, but she couldn't afford to be anything but sober. The boss needed her. They needed to come up with a plan, whether it was going after Killbane or taking care of loose ends in Steelport. She had her TEK Z-10 loaded and ready to kill whoever got in her way. It wasn't as flashy as a grenade launcher, but it was reliable, a weapon she could always depend on.

"Boss, I'm ready for whatever you need me for. Who are we killing today? I'm really itching to put gun wounds in someone."

 

[AlphaZero]

He had been spending a lot of time in the shit hole apartment in Salander, more then he had been in the penthouse or any of the other flashy safe houses The Saints had in Steelport.

Maybe it was quieter, maybe it was because it reminded him of his first place in Still Water. Eather way it was where he had spent most of his time.

He glanced up from the book he had been reading to kill time, tilting his sneakered feet to one side and fixing his steely blue gaze on Shaundi. She had been with him from damn near the start and wile he appreciated that she had grown up and become more serious minded since then, there where times her inability to relax wore on him. This was one of those times.

A hand ran over the short, dark goatee he wore and spoke, Shaundi, do us both a favor. Go score some dope, smoke up, find some dude you like the look of, get laid and calm the fuck down. Any syndicate punks left in this city are going to be dug in deep and if we want to find them we need to be patient and let Kinzee work her magic."

He understood her frustration, wanting to get out there snd try to settle things but constantly being tense wasn't going to solve anything.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "on second thought, forget the dope. If we walk into a shoot out I'd rather you be sober."

 

[Lucid]

Her grip on her gun tightened, provoked by the boss's comments. She placed it down, mature enough to realize that having a loaded gun in hand while aggravated in a place with no enemies was asking for an accident to happen. Still, that didn't stop her frustrations from spilling forth,

"Get some dope? This isn't the fucking time to smoke up. Like I'm in the mood to fuck some stranger either. That might help you get your rocks off, but I'm different than that."

A harsh sigh escaped her lips as she held her head. She knew he was just trying to help, but it seemed that anything that was said to her that didn't involve doing dirty work just angered her further. It wasn't that she didn't want to be calm. In fact, she was jealous of how at ease Pierce and the boss could be after all that's happened. But seriously, in what sort of universe could she just roll over and wait like some kind of trained bitch? On top of that, they had to sit around and wait for Kinzie of all people. Kinzie never rubbed Shaundi the right way, especially when taking Kinzie's former history with the FBI into consideration. In a way, it felt like the boss was favoring Kinzie over her.

She wished she there was a punching bag in the loft. All of the weapons around them made her want to take out her anger in a very inappropriate way. She settled on grabbing the manicure set that was sitting on the table, polishing her already sparkling nails. It wasn't that she was into keeping her nails pretty, it was simply that there was very little to do when the Saints were stuck waiting around. It was more constructive than repeating the same song and dance of getting upset. Even she was getting sick of it.

 

[AlphaZero]

Another sigh of irritation passed from his lips and he tossed the paper back down onto the table and sat upright, swinging his feet back down to the floor. They where an odd pair to say the least, wile Shaundi had only gotten more tightly wound and angry over the years he had somehow mellowed out.

"I get it, you're pissed off, Killbane got away because I had to make a choice. And now we're sitting around with our collective thumbs up our asses until we hear something about them. But being all tightly wound and bitchy isn't gonna help us at all" As if on que his phone began to chatter loudly at him from the coffee table, vibrating so angerly that it nearly fell right off the edge of the table before he snatched it up, answering in a less than polite manner, "Yeah, what is it?"

He listened intently for several moments adding only the occasional "uh huh" a scowl playing across his lips before finally relaying instructions into the phone, "Alright Kinzie, get that transport ship from STAG we repainted air born and have them pick up me and Shaundi from the safe out in Salander in five then we'll head out over the bay, see what we can do about this thing." then just as abruptly as he had started, he ended the call.

"So it looks like there's a yacht sitting out in the harbor. Registered to one of the Syndicates shell companies. Wanna go kill everyone on board and sink the fucker?"

 

[Lucid]

"Damn right I do!" Shaundi tossed the nail buffering stick on the table, happily replacing girly crap with her well used gun, "I'm ready when you are, boss."

Without bothering to wait for his reply, she made her way out of the apartment and onto the streets. None of the passerbyers gave her a second glance, used to seeing the Saints on patrol, even when they were armed. It showed just how much things changed in Steelport. Areas that were under the control of other gangs were now swimming in purple cladded members. The Saints left their mark on the cities in numerous ways, the resulting gang war leaving casualties and 'creative' changes to the surrounding architecture. It was their way of life, nothing more, nothing less.

She needed people to kill. It was her fucked up version of therapy. One might think she was a sociopath, finding murder calming instead of horrifying. Maybe she was, she didn't know nor care. Her priorities were herself and the Saints. If she needed to become a sociopath to protect those things, so be it. Strangely, her violence didn't seem to throw off her suitors. In fact, it seemed like that's why people wanted to bone her in the first place. She didn't have time these days to contemplate why people would go after someone who was as unstable as a thrown grenade. She'd rather kill them then fuck them. Again, it was just the way things were.

She waited for their ride to come, briefly looking at her reflection in the suppressor of her submachine gun. She still kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was easier to engage in combat that way. Her eyes were made to standout with a touch of eyeliner and eye shadow. She didn't do it to impress anyone, rather it was a routine she had since she was a teenager that she had no reason to break. The makeup distracted from the stress in her eyes, hiding the bags underneath and drawing attention away from the red lines within her whites. Some people in her position may have wished for a relaxing life, riches without worries. Not Shaundi. Action is what kept her occupied and happy. So what if her body had a few imperfections here and there? It's what kept her alive. She smirked and held her gun against her shoulder, ready to make the best of their active lifestyle.

 

[AlphaZero]

Outside in the mid afternoon sun the high pitched whine of the former STAG transport drowned out the sounds of the street as it descended. He could help but smirk at the pearlesent purple paint job that it had been given, the STAG logo now replaced with the golden Flur that marked it as the Saints craft now. They had recovered more the a few of STAG's old vehicles, tanks, VTOLs, transport gunships, and APCs all taken in and given new paint jobs, stowed in different places around the city in case they where ever needed.

And right now they where paying off.

From the pilot's seat Pierce flashed a thumbs up before the transport coasted smoothly into the air with its passengers and veered out towards the bay, staying low enough to skim the top of the water. On the horizon the ship came into view, "Take us up and circle 'round!" he shouted towards Perice over the road of the engine before pulling a pair of binoculars from a storage locker and peering into them. Getting a closer look at it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand straight up. Fifteen years later the very thought of setting foot on a boat made him uneasy. At least he knew he was going to be the one making this one explode and he would be well away from it when it did.

From his vantage point above the ship he could make out armed goons of some sort. They didn't look like Luchadores but they where defiantly up to something. They passed over the back deck, over the pool, "well, atleast there's no assholes in my pool this time." he said dryly before tossing the binoculars aside.

"You want me take her down boss?" Perice asked from the front.

"Oh please" he replied, picking up a parachute and tugging it on over, "Where's the fun in that?" and with those last words he threw himself from the moving craft, sailing towards the ship below with a triumphant shout before pulling the cord and sailing gently to the deck below. The parachute was discarded and a pair of KA-1 Kobra's came out from under his jacket. A wicked grin on his face, "Alright, who's first?"