Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Poindexter on <06-29-14/2218:52>
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[Jacksonville, Florida, Friday July 14th, 3:05PM]
It's another in a long line of 90 degree+ days in the city where the ocean meets the swamp. Like every day, it started raining about 5 minutes ago, and if the pattern holds, it should stop by about 4ish. Unless you're at the beach, there's no wind, and if you ARE at the beach, that wind is constant, forceful, and saturated with sand and salt. It's the sort of wind that mummifies shipwrecked sailors before the rescue boats can find them. If you're outside, you are sweaty. It's as simple as that. Jacksonville is relentlessly humid, and the reek created by the paper mill, the St John's river, and the swamp only makes it worse. Your hair sticks to your body constantly and everything you are carrying that can get wet, is wet, even when it isn't raining.
@Samuel, You're on foot, headed west on park street after dropping off a package downtown. It takes about 45 minutes to walk downtown from Daves shop on park and stockton, so you've been out in the sun for damn near two hours. You can almost feel the soles of your shoes melting on the sidewalk before it finally starts to rain, providing a temporary respite from the worst of the heat. You can smell the water instantly vaporizing against the scalding hexagonal pavement and you watch as it makes tiny, low-hanging clouds along the ground.
About 3 blocks east of stockton, your commlink alerts you to a message.
>> Incoming Message
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Wuttup, Sambo? New name new style new commlink wiz? TONIGHT! The CAVE! 580sum N hogan downtown. On the roof! I'm in a battle starts at 11 you should come out and support, SON! Be there early and well smoke some blunts.
@Isaac, It's friday afternoon, and the opportunities for this weekend before you simply boggle the mind. Not only are there two different "mom's outta town" parties here in palm valley, but there's also some kind of magerave thing going on in the westside, and even though you can't see half the show, you've learned that mage chicks party like CRAZY, so you don't really go for the show. Of course, there's the regular 6-8 clubs downtown that are actually worth a shit, but even when those are fun, Lone Star is always up in there, and it's tough to have a LOT of fun. You've also gotten a couple messages from a girl you barely met at a party once who wants to take you out on her parent's yacht for the weekend. There's a lot of shit going on.
Rather than make a decision, you've decided to let the world come to you, so you've been sitting in your bedroom, wearing boxer shorts, eating ice cream, and playing some Tac-shooter called "ERASER SQUAD: Borgoff 3" all day. About 20 minutes ago, you started to hear the thunder, but you didn't care so much, you were on a winning streak. By now, its raining pretty hard and you're busy looking for a server that isn't full of easy kill noobs when you get a message on your comm.
>> Incoming Message
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Ayo this yo boy from Riverside don use my old name on here. You shud come to this rap show tonite ill make it worth yo time say 500 to chill for a couple hours? Rooftop 580ish N Hogan. Battle at TEN!
@Slappendash, The goddamn motorcycles have been roaring past all goddamn day. Since they woke you up at about 7AM doing it, they've blazed past your house every 20 minutes or so, racing or whatever. Fucking Red Fivers and their fucking race day. You've spent the early morning maintaining your drones, cleaning your weapons, tuning up your engines, and when you were done with all that, you still found yourself bored, surfing the matrix, and playing one round of some tac-shooter, then getting bored with it and switching to another, only to play a round before getting bored again and repeating the cycle.
When you hear the rain on the roof, you figure it must be around 3ish. Finally, some peace and quiet. Those crazy bastards always stop for the rain, just enough time for you to catch a quick nap. You lie down on your couch and just as you close your eyes, your commlink lights up. You've got a message.
>> Incoming Message
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Hey girl, this is Sam. How's the new place workin out? You know if it dun work out you can always crash on this couch you know? Anyway, I found work for you. Meet me at that battle at the cave i told you about. The rooftop on Hogan. Be there before 11.
@Francis, You're in a great mood today. Sure, the smell of home-made cram being cooked up downstairs makes your whole apartment, and really the whole floor reek of ungodly chemicals. And yeah, someone is perpetually beating the everloving shit out of someone else somewhere in earshot pretty much all day long, but today, none of that drek is getting to you. Today was visitation day. You woke up bright and early, put on your best suit, and took the train across town to see your boy. Cynthia wasn't there, choosing instead to leave her parents at the house to meet you. Even though it was a bit disappointing, it couldn't hurt your demeanor. The four hours FLEW by like they always do, and you actually thought for a moment that your commlink had been hacked when you looked at the time. You were reluctant to go, but knew that you shouldn't make a fuss out of things. Gotta set a good example.
You're on the train, going though all the pics and video you took of you and Joshua playing while on the way from the glittering paradise you once lived in, back to the shitville you call home now, when the rain starts. As you flip from picture to picture, a notice pops up in the top corner of your screen. It's a message from an unfamiliar contact.
>> Incoming Message
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Hey kid this is Sam. got a new link wiz? I gotta buncha hedz need a brain. i know you need money and brain shit pays. come to cave battle rooftop of 580somethin hogan before 11. Follow the loud music. PEACE KID.
@Johnny, The rain still kinda makes your joints ache a teeny bit. According to those rehab fuckers, that should stop in about a week or so. Today's been a weird day. You were anxious to get out of the house all day, but every time you'd think about that heat and that smell, you sat back down and watched some more trid. You're torn between needing to get out and make that money and really REALLY not wanting to get back behind the wheel and do some crazy shit for that money. Even as you tell yourself you hate doing it, you know it's a lie. That rush you get from deciding your fate, second by second is better than the rush from the gambling, from the drugs, from anything you've ever tried. Maybe you should get crammed...
Checking your stash spot, you realize you're all out. Oh yeah, that party you were at on tuesday. You ended up bringin those two girls home and they ate up the last of what you had before things started to get really weird. You fire off a quick message to One, seeing what he's upto today, but not mentioning dope, as per the code. Within 30 seconds, he responds.
>> Reply
>> Sender: One
>> Message: Meet at the cave tonight. rooftop on hogan. starts at eight.
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Isaac liked a good rap battle, wasn't ever the most skillful participant, but he enjoyed watching them. He wasn't planning on doing anything for the rest of the day anyway, so he shut off the system, put on the cleanest pair of pants from under the heaping pile of dirty clothes, and unwrapped a hard candy from the ceramic bowl on the counter. He clicked it around on his teeth, Pineapple, so good he thought with a smile. He looked up at the clock mounted on the wall, Well, I guess I could ride go karts for a few hours.
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[Friday 1505 - 14th July | Homebound train/Francis’ apartment | Jacksonville]
<<To: Jeighk>>
<<I’ll be there buddy. Anything I should know about this place beforehand? Or these folk I’m supposed to be thinking for? I’m guessing this is not the suit+tie crowd ;)>>
Jacksonville Area: "580ish" Hogan (http://orokos.com/roll/204011): 8d6t5 2
Jacksonville Street Gangs; around Hogan (http://orokos.com/roll/204012): 6d6t5 2
Jacksonville Org Crimes; around Hogan (http://orokos.com/roll/204013): 6d6t5 4
As Francis gets home he starts getting ready for the night, only to get distracted midway through each task and starting doing something else. Fuck! You would think I’m getting too old to have these first time jitters. Hah! Hope I don’t puke on the way there like before my first time in court. Best take a quick shower and try to get my head on straight.
After washing off some of his nervous energy Francis proceeds to lay out his clothes and gear for the night. Jeans, nice casual shirt, good shoes that you could turn around in without being worried about slipping and falling on your ass and the newest addition to his wardrobe, a dark blue lined coat. Cost him a fair bit of what money he got out of the split with Cynthia but would probably prove its worth before all was said and done. Better to be alive and worry about not having money than dying with a full credstick. Lets see, the colt goes into the arm slide, spare clips in the left pocket, knife is on my right hip. Better leave the baton at home, no reason to be gauche. Oh, noisebox might come in handy, better bring that as well. Avalon set to stop broadcasting his SIN and running silent and his MetaLink broadcasting his fake SIN Francis leaves with the intent of being on site at before 10:30.
I need to buy a believable link for walking around with, no nosey matrix jockey will stop at finding this piece of crap. Alright Francis, lets get this show on the road.
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<<To: Jeighk>>
<<I’ll be there buddy. Anything I should know about this place beforehand? Or these folk I’m supposed to be thinking for? I’m guessing this is not the suit+tie crowd ;)>>
>> Reply
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: place is fulla some real hedz. don't pull out if you aint go buss kid. People you thinkin on bes some solid mugs. no hate.
Jacksonville Area: "580ish" Hogan (http://orokos.com/roll/204011): 8d6t5 2
https://www.google.com/maps/@30.330964,-81.659431,3a,74.3y,297.67h,100.92t/data=!3m4!1e1!3m2!1sU3eRV5OKAUZ30KdXzmspcQ!2e0?hl=en
It's a place called the cave. Not a legal venue, and not the sorta place you'd like to get caught alone. mostly Ork/troll hangout.
Jacksonville Street Gangs; around Hogan (http://orokos.com/roll/204012): 6d6t5 2
Hogan street is downtown, but the 500 block is JUST too far north to be a big priority for Lone Star. But, since it's still too far south for it to be in gang territory, it makes a great venue for underground performers; hardcore rap, goblinrock, etc.
Jacksonville Org Crimes; around Hogan (http://orokos.com/roll/204013): 6d6t5 4
Just the standard panhandling, parking violations, vandalism, purse snatching, that sort of thing. Lone Star keeps the more hardcore crime out of the downtown area for the most part.
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Samuel's face scrunches up a bit as he reads the message. Ugh, drekhead's never gonna stop calling me that. He steps into the doorway of a random building for a moment and fires off a quick response.
>>Outgoing message:
>>To: Jeighk
>>Check. Be there.
Enjoying the slightly cooler air inside the building, he lingers for a minute trying to tell himself that he doesn't really want to go. He ignores the part of him that knows it's a lie, that knows it's been a while since he was in a fight and was a little bit glad to be invited somewhere with the possibility to get rough, that knows he has the scratch the itch at some point. Seeing somebody coming down the hall towards the door he steps back out into the rain and continues back towards the shop to report. Wish Dave'd get over his fear of comms. Too fuckin' hot for this shit.
He couldn't say how many times he had thought that if his life depended on it. Every summer it almost becomes a mantra. He knew that Dave was right, the extra distance to check back in person was worth the extra security. If only that made a difference to the heat.
Better hurry my ass up. Need to get home and get ready after I check in with Dave, and these preps ain't got much left in them.
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@Slappendash, The goddamn motorcycles have been roaring past all goddamn day. Since they woke you up at about 7AM doing it, they've blazed past your house every 20 minutes or so, racing or whatever. Fucking Red Fivers and their fucking race day. You've spent the early morning maintaining your drones, cleaning your weapons, tuning up your engines, and when you were done with all that, you still found yourself bored, surfing the matrix, and playing one round of some tac-shooter, then getting bored with it and switching to another, only to play a round before getting bored again and repeating the cycle.
When you hear the rain on the roof, you figure it must be around 3ish. Finally, some peace and quiet. Those crazy bastards always stop for the rain, just enough time for you to catch a quick nap. You lie down on your couch and just as you close your eyes, your commlink lights up. You've got a message.
>> Incoming Message
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Hey girl, this is Sam. How's the new place workin out? You know if it dun work out you can always crash on this couch you know? Anyway, I found work for you. Meet me at that battle at the cave i told you about. The rooftop on Hogan. Be there before 11.
Slappendash let out an annoyed growl and sat up, then sighed. She grabbed her link off the nightstand and looked at it, then set it aside for the moment. She slipped out of bed to grab a shower and redress, planning on addressing the link later.
Once in clean clothes (or, at least, as clean as anything could get in this environment), she picked up the link again and read the message. She set the link down a moment as she considered what he said, sipped a cup of old soykaf that made her gag, went over to the sink to pour it out, and returned back to the link.
>>Sender: Slappendash
To: Jeighk
On my way. Just had to freshen up.
She then grabbed her jacket and headed out the door, seeking out her rides. As she sat in the driver's seat and closed her eyes, she could feel it as her mind merged with the vehicle; she let out a soft gasp as the two bodies, the flesh and the machine, became a single entity. Her mind sought out the other vehicle, commanding it to start and follow her. Both were kept loaded with drones; she was never certain when a job would come and her time with Ares had taught her to always be prepared.
As the vehicles rolled down the street, she mentally connected with her RCC, using it to check the status of each drone, making certain all of them were ready. She had no intention of causing trouble... but that did not mean trouble would not seek her out. While she was doing this, she kept part of her mind on the driving, enjoying how the road felt against her tires as her metal-and-plastic body continued its path. She even directed herself to take a bit of a scenic route, just to enjoy the drive and take extra time. Plus, she just wanted people to think she was out for a drive, not that she had to be anywhere.
And then something occurred to her.
Sender: Slappendash
To: Jeighk
Omae, is there anything I should bring to this besides myself and some wheels?
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Better hurry my ass up. Need to get home and get ready after I check in with Dave, and these preps ain't got much left in them.
Back in the cramped little front area of Dave's shop, the smell of jerksoy pies being cooked next door permeates the place. Dave is talking on his comm, an old throwaway Meta Link, speaking tagalog in a very animated fashion. When he sees you walk in, he ducks down behind the counter for a brief moment, comes up with a guitar case, and slides it across the counter toward you before you've even made it across the store. As you near the counter, he's still talking (yelling?) on the phone, but with a few quick strokes of his bony fingers, he's popped up an ARO above the case. It's just blue text in an old timey sort of font.
2809 Commonwealth ave
Without looking at you or pausing in his conversation, he waves you away with one hand and an irritated expression on his face.
>>Sender: Slappendash
To: Jeighk
On my way. Just had to freshen up.
Sender: Slappendash
To: Jeighk
Omae, is there anything I should bring to this besides myself and some wheels?
>> Reply
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Yo i just woke up girl won't be out at the spot for a minute still but GOOD lookin out. you hungry. BIG RESPEK for the hustle wiz? I aint doin shit at the crib if you jus wanna meet up here though. A mug could actually use a ride.
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Shit, another? Killing me here, Dave. Before grabbing the case, Samuel heads to the bathroom sink and turns the cold water on. He gulps down a few handfuls and splashes another couple over his head, further drenching his largely unkempt hair. Scooping the case up on the way out he steps back into the wet heat and starts walking north along Stockton. The lingering smell of "meat" pies makes his stomach grumble a bit. Really need to eat if that shit's making me hungry. Lessee, which way. Edison to Duff to Commonwealth, been a while since I used that route. Might even have some fraggin shade for part of it and be back by 5.
Tucking the case under an arm and using it as a rain shield, he taps out a message on his comm with the other hand as he walks.
>>Outgoing message:
>>To: Rock
>>Sup bud, any chance the old lady's cooking tonight? Long hot day and may be a long night, could use something good. Plus the company or whatev.
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>>Outgoing message:
>>To: Rock
>>Sup bud, any chance the old lady's cooking tonight? Long hot day and may be a long night, could use something good. Plus the company or whatev.
The walk takes about half an hour to get there and it's as nasty as you feared it'd be, but the dropoff is clean and simple, just the way you like it. A pock marked ork in the passenger seat of a GMC bulldog idling across the street from the library hollers at you when he sees the case under your arm. After he shows you proof of his transaction with Dave, you hand the case through the window, and the driver, a younger ork than the first, looks you over. With a grin, she passes you an already lit, half burned, hand-rolled cigarette containing mystery contents, then waits for you to pass it back before nodding and driving off.
About halfway back, your commlink lights up again
>> Reply
>> Sender: Rock
>> Message: Shit, its good to hear from a friend, man. Things haven't been going so well on my end, to be honest. Rather not talk about the old lady, but i guess i do need some food and i could use the company. I'm fixing the AC at Midnight Sun in five points right now, But if you wanna come meet me there, i can take a break and eat lunch with you. What do you say, Omae?
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>>Outgoing Message
>>To: Jeighk
>>Wiz, I'll be there at 9:30. Hope you don't mind if I bring some heat, can never be too careful, dig? Anyway, good to hear from you, was looking at doing shit-all today but you came through.
Isaac smiled, his schedule has been choked to near death by parties and social events of the like, but it didn't bother him one bit, he enjoyed having a break. He strolled through the house humming the theme song from some trid show he was currently binge watching and made his way to his room. Let's see here, what to wear? he thought as he rummaged through his closet, determined to locate a piece of clothing to cover the top half of his body that wasn't dirty or outdated. Ehh whatever, this'll do he selected a leather jacket that was a nice gift from his aunt Kelly and a SKUNK LASER t-shirt that he got from their last concert. He let out a reminiscent sigh, That was a good concert. Satisfied with his outfit, he decided to see who he could bum a ride off of, as his personal mode of transportation was in the shop. The paint will be worth the wait, Nymph hasn't let me down yet he kept telling himself, he always could rely on her to fix his ride up for a discount.
>>Outgoing Message
>>To: Marcus
>>Yo Marc, some shit's goin' down that I got invited to, so I figured that since my whip's getting a makeover and you owe me, im fishing for a ride. I'll give you the deats when you pick me up.
Marc's a good guy, maybe he slaps too much bliss, but he knows what's up, been friends for a few months now, met him on one of the many jobs he's been taking this past year. Nothing high level, nothing medium level at that, just small time stuff, running prestolen paydata to whomever was paying, disabling alarms and such for burglars, that sort of drek.
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>>Outgoing Message
>>To: Jeighk
>>Wiz, I'll be there at 9:30. Hope you don't mind if I bring some heat, can never be too careful, dig? Anyway, good to hear from you, was looking at doing shit-all today but you came through.
He responds almost instantly
>> Reply
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: You fraid to loose a tooth son? :) Leave that shit in the trunk word.
>>Outgoing Message
>>To: Marcus
>>Yo Marc, some shit's goin' down that I got invited to, so I figured that since my whip's getting a makeover and you owe me, im fishing for a ride. I'll give you the deats when you pick me up.
Marc takes about 5 minutes to respond and when he does, the first thing you get is a picture of his penis with a tiny sombrero on it and the caption OLE' in bright yellow letters near the base. His face and upper body are clearly visible in the picture, and he's giving the "thumbs up" sign to the camera.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: Hellz 2 da frakkin YEAH, muchacho! Gonna be chicks there? What time should me and "El Guapo" come scoop ya up, huh?
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>>Outgoing Message
>>To: Jeighk
>>Wiz, I'll be there at 9:30. Hope you don't mind if I bring some heat, can never be too careful, dig? Anyway, good to hear from you, was looking at doing shit-all today but you came through.
He responds almost instantly
>> Reply
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: You fraid to loose a tooth son? :) Leave that shit in the trunk word.
>>Outgoing Message
>>To: Marcus
>>Yo Marc, some shit's goin' down that I got invited to, so I figured that since my whip's getting a makeover and you owe me, im fishing for a ride. I'll give you the deats when you pick me up.
Marc takes about 5 minutes to respond and when he does, the first thing you get is a picture of his penis with a tiny sombrero on it and the caption OLE' in bright yellow letters near the base. His face and upper body are clearly visible in the picture, and he's giving the "thumbs up" sign to the camera.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: Hellz 2 da frakkin YEAH, muchacho! Gonna be chicks there? What time should me and "El Guapo" come scoop ya up, huh?
Isaac thought about the gun, and then decided against it in the end, he threw out a response to Jeighk while placing his pistol back onto the table. Isaac wasn't ever worried about anyone stumbling onto it, he lived alone and his neighbors were busy doing their own rich thing to give a shit about some kid.
>>Reply
>>To: Jeighk
>>Yeah, guess you're right, how much action is there gonna be while two dudes yell at each other? Anyway, I'll be there.
Now onto Marc and his... friend.
>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>What the hell man? Are you high? I get that we've become great pals and shit but that's a part of you I'd prefer to not see, dig? Thanks for this though, and who knows, maybe El Guapo will meet some friends?
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Johnny stands, his large, sweaty back peeling from the cheap, piece of drek chair he'd been lounging on. Rolling his shoulders back he stretches, limbs aching slightly. just bout no nuyen, no cram "Drek, a hit be good now" he frowns, rummaging around his worn down, apartment, searching in vein for a forgotten hit. Johnny sighs reading One's reply, frowning at the long wait 5 hours too long time to roll, hit the street corner? Nawh, frak it time for a beer.
Johnny fires off a couple messages from his Sony Emperor, grabbing the few credsticks he has, throwing on a jacket before heading out the door.
>>Outgoing message:
>>Recipient: Jay
>>Message:yo brotha whats happenin? brew? hit me up down the local man headin down now
>>Outgoing message:
>>Recipient: One
>>Message:null sheen catch you later
Damn One always slow as drek
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>>Outgoing message:
>>Recipient: Jay
>>Message:yo brotha whats happenin? brew? hit me up down the local man headin down now
The reply you get is a picture of a high end bike, taken behind a strip mall. It's been mostly disassembled and your boy Jay crouches next to it with no shirt on. He's covered in dirt, grime, grease, sweat, rain, and a teeny bitta blood here and there. His face wears a scowl.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Jay
>> Message: Gonna be a LONG fuckin day bro. If you wanna come through five points and help me fix this fucker, we can have a couple brews while we work, though.
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>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>What the hell man? Are you high? I get that we've become great pals and shit but that's a part of you I'd prefer to not see, dig? Thanks for this though, and who knows, maybe El Guapo will meet some friends?
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: FUCK YEAH CHUMMER!!! What time i should be there?
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>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>What the hell man? Are you high? I get that we've become great pals and shit but that's a part of you I'd prefer to not see, dig? Thanks for this though, and who knows, maybe El Guapo will meet some friends?
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: FUCK YEAH CHUMMER!!! What time i should be there?
>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>Come around 8:30, want to stop for tacos on the way, feelin' like tacos.
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>> Reply
>> Sender: Jeighk
>> Message: Yo i just woke up girl won't be out at the spot for a minute still but GOOD lookin out. you hungry. BIG RESPEK for the hustle wiz? I aint doin shit at the crib if you jus wanna meet up here though. A mug could actually use a ride.
>>Reply
>>To: Jeighk
>>On my way. Keep an eye out for two vehicles.
Slappendash's mind then slipped from the Matrix message back to her vehicle. She automatically adjusted the direction, intending to stop by and pick him up. The feel of the road beneath her tires was just heavenly, so she didn't mind the extra trip. She just hoped it would not get too rough; that always left her feeling queasy.
She then tried to pull up a Grid Guide map, just to see which roads she would be taking to her two destinations.
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She then tried to pull up a Grid Guide map, just to see which roads she would be taking to her two destinations.
If he's talking about the same place you used to crash at, its a tiny little garage apt at 29371 Willow Branch Avenue although you know he keeps several places on different sides of town.
https://www.google.com/maps/@30.312742,-81.703237,3a,48.4y,118.35h,83.48t/data=!3m4!1e1!3m2!1sxwQcoT_E0sJ9yi0Ft68E7w!2e0?hl=en
From there, its probably just east down post, then north on riverside ave, over the Acosta bridge before you're downtown. After that, good luck parking one vehicle, let alone two. Sam has a history of having more going on than he lets you know at first, so who knows where the two of you might be headed before this meeting. It's always an interesting night with One.
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@ Isaac
>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>Come around 8:30, want to stop for tacos on the way, feelin' like tacos.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: WIZ
@Slappendash
[One's place, Friday July 14th, 6:45PM]
Sam's place is a nightmare, far worse than it was just a few weeks ago when you were staying here. The couch in the living room where you're sitting right now was never a picnic, but there was never a large burnmark covering half of it like there is now. The floor is covered with empty paint cans, the air is thick with the smell of aerosol and the walls are adorned with countless layers of graffitti pieces, denoting years of practice by innumerable artists. Right now, there are at least 5 other men here, three humans, an elf, and an ork. None of them introduced themselves, and only one of them, the elf, is giving you "the look". When you first showed up, it was just the ork and Sam here, but dudes just keep filtering in, as time goes by. They and Sam have been painting the walls, writing raps, and smoking enough zen to paralyze a horse since you got here at 4:30. You move the old, yellowed blinds out of the way and look outside to check on your rides. Except for a couple stray cats on the hood of the Americar, there's nothing but the rain moving out there. Instead of dying down around 4, like it usually does, the rain actually picked up a little bit and hasn't backed down since.
Sam is finishing the 3D effects on a big purple and yellow ONE67 in bubble letters when his paint cap begins to sputter. He staggers across the room and flops down next to you on the couch. After fishing a small safety pin out of his pocket, he talks to you as he tries to use it to unclog his cap, his voice slightly muffled by the respirator on his face.
"So, we rollin' in the family truckster or the frakkin Millenium Falcon out there? Personally, a mug that rolled up in a stylin ass luxury vehicle like that Ares out there might just leave a few jaws at this battle kinda slack, y'know? Make em think twice about steppin to the original, right? We should take that one. Is that cool with you, Slap?"
He looks up from his mini-project and even though his mouth is covered, you can tell he's wearing his trademark goofy ass grin when he makes eye-contact with you and adds, "Plus I kinda told a bunch a mugs they could ride with me."
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>>Outgoing message:
>>To: Rock
>>Sounds good omae. Heading to check in at the shop, hope I'm done for today. Head that way and find you after.
Samuel puts his comm away and ducks into an office that he knows has a water fountain in the front. This is his favorite part of this particular route- ever since the first time the guards threw him out he has gotten a strange joy from figuratively tweaking their noses. He quickly slurps up a few mouthfuls and waits to head back to the door until the guard at the front desk has had to stand up and is starting to head his way. Customers only my ass, greedy sons a bitches. With a smile and a wave he is out the door, the sound of the guard cursing at him cutting off as it closes.
Wanting to meet Rock and get back home before the less desirable elements rouse from their late nights, Samuel starts to jog the last part of the trip back to the shop.
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>>Outgoing message:
>>To: Rock
>>Sounds good omae. Heading to check in at the shop, hope I'm done for today. Head that way and find you after.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Rock
>> Message: Let me know if you're gonna be delayed. I'm starting to get really hungry.
Wanting to meet Rock and get back home before the less desirable elements rouse from their late nights, Samuel starts to jog the last part of the trip back to the shop.
[Jacksonville, Florida, Friday July 14th, 4:10PM]
The rain still hasn't let up. In fact, you're starting to hear the distant rumble of thunder over the regular hum of the city. This might not be one of the regular "three o'clock" storms you're used to. Being a local, you're well aware that if it ain't done by four, it might just last a few days.
You've finally arrived at the shop, drenched. Times like these are when Dave's near obsession with air conditioning really starts to get to you. You can almost feel the rainwater freezing into the more exposed bits of your clothing as soon as you walk in the front door, making the irritating electronic "DING" noise. Dave is seated behind the counter in his sweat stained "Who Farted?" baseball cap, reading a book in an ARO carefully made up to look like an old leather bound tome. It hovers in front of him as he lazily flips through the pages with one finger. Hearing the "DING", he looks up and smiles before speaking in his old school, swamp-billy sort of dialect.
"Dun good today, boah. Pendin' on the way some drek do or don't wind up goin, i might needjya later on tonight, say round one in the mornin', but that'll be extra jing for that. here's what i owe ya fer today." He slides a standard credstick across the counter to you. "Three deliveries at 25 a piece. Now go out and getchya some pussy or sumthin', and stop drippin' all over my store!"
[OOC] The credstick has 75 on it. woo hoo!
-
Aint worked on nothin since the accident...damn drek aint bad for a 2 wheeler, wonder if it's hot.. Johnny nods in approval, itching to to work on something mechanical. It'd been too long, the hospital keeping him in lockdown for months. Shoulda smashed those fools and left, damn sis, anyone else...
Outgoing message:
>>Recipient: Jay
>>dreeeeek now we talkin! on my way. peace!
Johnny pulls a cheap pair of glasses from his head, covering his eyes. Ignoring the weather, he locks the door to his cheap room, faded paint, barred windows and a nasty smell the greet Johnny on his way out. Drek better not let this crap get wet Johnny pockets his comm. It wasn't a long walk to Jay's, though Johnny still jumped in to his Bulldog, a well worn, dented step van. She was painted black, with black tints, though the paint had started to chip. She'd DEFINITELY been in an accident recently, a lot of body work to get her right.
Johnny frowns at the condition of the van, jumping in, stretching out in the adjusted drivers seat. Wouldn't trade ya in for anything baby he thinks, tapping the steering wheel. He Considering putting on his helmet, though decides against it No need to the image link and no need for the attention... Firing her up, he drives off, heading in the direction of Five Points. Winding down the window, Johnny rests his arm on the door, a light rain coating his left side as he drives. Drek if it that bike is hot Jay best be giving me a cut, bet he's got some cram...
-
Firing her up, he drives off, heading in the direction of Five Points.
[Out behind Five Points, Friday July 14th, 7:45PM]
It's been a shitty time since you left the house. Not only was traffic a nightmare, getting from the beach out to riverside in rush hour, but the rain made it even worse. You never got why people are MORE likely to turn the autopilot off in shitty weather, when that's precisely the time they need it the most. When you finally get to the the front of the jam, of course, it's some asshole corp on manual, trying to pass where everyone knew there was no damn room and crunchin into someone. At least he looks hurt, you think to yourself as you give him the finger while passing.
Took ya about an hour to make the drive, and since you got there, you've been trying to help Jay put this bike together. He bought it sight unseen and assembly-required, and he's far too drunk to be of any use assembling any damn thing today. It's not that he's sloppy, it's just that he has no focus when he's like this. While you've had your head down working, downing the occasional beer, he's been splitting his time between helping, examining the graffitti on the walls, pounding beers, doing pushups, texting chicks, and striking up awkward conversations with the odd store employee that comes out into the back area where yall are working to empty garbage. Not only is he damn near useless drunk, but he's outta cram.
The bike is almost roadworthy, and with another hour or two of work, you're sure you can get it there, with or without his help. It is getting close to 8:00 though. Jay looks like he's on his last legs and is about to fall asleep standing up, and it's just BARELY starting to get dark. Dude's been partying too hard lately. He notices you checking your link for the time and slurs out, "Yougahshhhumwhere you needta be, shhhummer?" before burping loudly and frightening several nearby pigeons into flight. Just behind him, your eyes focus on a salmon and teal colored ONE67 in twisted block letters, painted on the wall.
-
Samuel pockets the credstick and waves as he hurries back towards the door, talking over his shoulder as he heads out. "Lemme know, probably be out and about. Thanks boss man."
Once outside he stretches for a moment and heads down Park, working back up to a quick jog by the end of the block.
-
@Slappendash
[One's place, Friday July 14th, 6:45PM]
Sam's place is a nightmare, far worse than it was just a few weeks ago when you were staying here. The couch in the living room where you're sitting right now was never a picnic, but there was never a large burnmark covering half of it like there is now. The floor is covered with empty paint cans, the air is thick with the smell of aerosol and the walls are adorned with countless layers of graffitti pieces, denoting years of practice by innumerable artists. Right now, there are at least 5 other men here, three humans, an elf, and an ork. None of them introduced themselves, and only one of them, the elf, is giving you "the look". When you first showed up, it was just the ork and Sam here, but dudes just keep filtering in, as time goes by. They and Sam have been painting the walls, writing raps, and smoking enough zen to paralyze a horse since you got here at 4:30. You move the old, yellowed blinds out of the way and look outside to check on your rides. Except for a couple stray cats on the hood of the Americar, there's nothing but the rain moving out there. Instead of dying down around 4, like it usually does, the rain actually picked up a little bit and hasn't backed down since.
Sam is finishing the 3D effects on a big purple and yellow ONE67 in bubble letters when his paint cap begins to sputter. He staggers across the room and flops down next to you on the couch. After fishing a small safety pin out of his pocket, he talks to you as he tries to use it to unclog his cap, his voice slightly muffled by the respirator on his face.
"So, we rollin' in the family truckster or the frakkin Millenium Falcon out there? Personally, a mug that rolled up in a stylin ass luxury vehicle like that Ares out there might just leave a few jaws at this battle kinda slack, y'know? Make em think twice about steppin to the original, right? We should take that one. Is that cool with you, Slap?"
He looks up from his mini-project and even though his mouth is covered, you can tell he's wearing his trademark goofy ass grin when he makes eye-contact with you and adds, "Plus I kinda told a bunch a mugs they could ride with me."
Slappendash wrinkles her nose a moment in mirth outside the building; his place wasn't any cleaner than her's, but at least it didn't smell like the inside of a automechanic. She grinned to herself just a moment and then disengaged. There was a moment of disorientation as she lost the body of tires and metal and found herself trapped within the flesh again. Her eyes blinked open, then she reached up to rub them; it was always rough to adapt to reality after spending some time inside a machine. Then it was time to slip out of the car and head inside.
Once inside, she looked around a bit, then turned her eyes to the man she came to see.
"Falcon's loaded with drones. I brought some security just in case something happened. I figured you would want everyone paying attention to the mobile tank launching pure death instead of the getaway car if things went south. But, we can ride in it; it'll take a couple minutes to transfer the drones."
She grinned, hand on her hip as she spoke. Don't trust you entirely, but you're good enough. Don't trust your friends at all. But if they mean the difference between me getting out alive and not getting out at all, I'll gladly put them in the Ares.
"Wanna watch while I transfer? I made certain to bring party favors for any crashers."
I think I spent more on grenades than my parents did on every single birthday I ever had.
-
@Samuel
[Itali's Pizza and Pasta, Five Points, Friday July 14th, 6:40PM]
You've always loved Itali's. Clean, local, hand made, and priced for the lower class sprawl dweller. Sure, there's no more actual meat in any of the sauce, but the seasoning is so good, you can fool yourself if you're drunk enough. Too bad they don't serve alcohol. You and Rock have been here for about an hour and half, after having arrived in five points around a quarter to 5 and keeping him company while he fixed the AC next door. It was so ridiculously hot and muggy in there, you thought you'd pass out a few times, but Rock obviously needed a friend, so you stuck it out.
When you first got to the tiny little retro clothing shop for rich city girls, you found him up on a ladder, singing along with an old song on the intercom. "...be no one unless that someone is youuuuuuuuuu. I intend to be independently-" He notices you listening and stops abruptly. "Oh, Hoi chummer." he stammers out, looking a bit embarrassed. He seems relieved when you don't mention anything about it. You know he's kind of a sensitive guy, despite his outer shell and he seems especially fragile today.
You spent most of the time there nodding, handing him tools, and saying "oh damn" at the correct times in his story. Things aren't going well with him and Annabelle. They got in a big fight a few days ago and she went to stay with her mother. He knows he was wrong and he feels horrible, but she still needs some time to think about stuff. All throughout the job and dinner, you play the good friend and good listener.
After paying the bill whether you like it or not, he looks up at you and says, "So, what do you got goin' on tonight, Omae?"
@Slappendash
She grinned, hand on her hip as she spoke. Don't trust you entirely, but you're good enough. Don't trust your friends at all. But if they mean the difference between me getting out alive and not getting out at all, I'll gladly put them in the Ares.
Sam chuckles out loud, the sound bouncing off the bare walls and concrete floor of the little place, causing the five men already there and the two young dwarves who just walked in to turn and look. When he's certain he has the attention of the group, he pulls the respirator off his mouth and addresses the room.
"How many of yall hardcore-ass mugs came strapped for this battle, YO?!"
Most of the men look around confused at eachother with a distinct "what the fuck?" sort of look on their faces. One of the humans, a short skinny white boy with a backwards visor, puts on his best gangster pose and pulls up his shirt, to reveal a battered Ares Lightfire 70 tucked into the waistband of his sagging pants. He cocks his head back and says "Whaddup Six Seven? If we bangin, you KNOW im deyown!" a statement which brings everyone else in the house except Sam into a hysterical fit of laughter before they slowly turn and get back to whatever they were doing. Sam slowly turns his head back to you with that goofy grin you knew would be there.
"These mugs aint no fuckin G's. The fuck you think i called YOU for, word? I mean, i know you cute and all, but girl you COLD. So naw girl, these heads aint the difference tween life and death or no kinda shit like that. They just comin along to the show, like, show some love, wiz? BUT-" He raises his volume to be heard over the clatter of paint cans and the Boom-Bap of hip hop beats. "I don't trust a lot of these mugs not to be stealing shit NEITHER, so maybe just you and me take the falcon and this buncha' breeders can sardine they asses into the Clark Griswald out there?
-
While Rock vents about his lady troubles, Samuel takes the opportunity to soak in some AC and take his mind off of things. The wet heat of the long day fades away and the anticipation of the night with a rougher crowd is mostly overshadowed by concern for his friend. Poor guy, just can't catch a break. Shit, who can around here. Gotta remember to see if I can do something to help make Anna happy, big man has enough on his shoulders. Noting the time, Samuel finishes up his dinner and casually interrupts the flow of Rock's mostly one-sided conversation.
"So, what do you got goin' on tonight, Omae?"
"Some rap thing I'm supposed to go to. Shit'll probably be ridiculous but I need to stretch my legs, if you know what I mean. Maybe some work later on." He runs his hand through his hair and checks the time again. "Look chum, I need to run. Sure I'll see you around the crib soon."
In short order Samuel walks into his somewhat run down apartment. After throwing all three bolts and giving the door a hard tug he heads to the shower, eager to rinse off the day's sweat. A quick scrub and dry later he is laying out some of his baggiest clothes, a pair of cargo pants about four sizes too large and a plain grey t-shirt that reaches almost to his knees. Next to the clothes he lays out his medkit, subvocal mic, chameleon suit and bike helmet.
Finished with that, Samuel moves out to his workbench in the living room and has a seat. From under the bench he pulls out a large tackle box, setting it on the bench and opening it up. Ok, what to use tonight. Rummaging around for a few moments he ends up with a large plastic bottle cap, a small jar of glitter, a plain copper bracelet, and two stickers - green and red. Using a marker he draws the proper designs on them and prepares to channel his energies.
About 25 minutes later, Samuel is sits back in his chair and lets out a long sigh. Fuck me, that was rough. He runs his hand through his hair and tilts the chair back enough to see the clock in his kitchen. 7:40, couple hours to rest at least. One better put on a show tonight. He packs his supplies and stashes them back under the workbench, leaving out a single blue sticker and one of his markers which he grabs as he heads into his bedroom. He only stops long enough to put them with his other supplies and set an alarm on his comm before he falls face down in his bed and is asleep.
It is several minutes after his alarm started going off before Samuel's eyes snap open. After hopping out of bed and shutting it off he spends a couple of minutes stretching out the last of the soreness and begins preparing to leave. He makes sure that his chameleon suit is shut off and pulls it most of the way on. When it is up to his chest he folds the rest over and crosses the sleeves on his abdomen, taping the wrists against his sides. He puts on the cargo pants and t-shirt over top and checks himself over to make sure no bulges are too obvious before slipping on his boots. He sticks his supplies in the various pockets on his pants and grabs his keys and helmet. On the way out he pulls a screamer arrowhead tied to a string off of a peg by the door and, after making sure the hallway is clear, heads out to meet One.
-
@Slappendash
She grinned, hand on her hip as she spoke. Don't trust you entirely, but you're good enough. Don't trust your friends at all. But if they mean the difference between me getting out alive and not getting out at all, I'll gladly put them in the Ares.
Sam chuckles out loud, the sound bouncing off the bare walls and concrete floor of the little place, causing the five men already there and the two young dwarves who just walked in to turn and look. When he's certain he has the attention of the group, he pulls the respirator off his mouth and addresses the room.
"How many of yall hardcore-ass mugs came strapped for this battle, YO?!"
Most of the men look around confused at eachother with a distinct "what the fuck?" sort of look on their faces. One of the humans, a short skinny white boy with a backwards visor, puts on his best gangster pose and pulls up his shirt, to reveal a battered Ares Lightfire 70 tucked into the waistband of his sagging pants. He cocks his head back and says "Whaddup Six Seven? If we bangin, you KNOW im deyown!" a statement which brings everyone else in the house except Sam into a hysterical fit of laughter before they slowly turn and get back to whatever they were doing. Sam slowly turns his head back to you with that goofy grin you knew would be there.
"These mugs aint no fuckin G's. The fuck you think i called YOU for, word? I mean, i know you cute and all, but girl you COLD. So naw girl, these heads aint the difference tween life and death or no kinda shit like that. They just comin along to the show, like, show some love, wiz? BUT-" He raises his volume to be heard over the clatter of paint cans and the Boom-Bap of hip hop beats. "I don't trust a lot of these mugs not to be stealing shit NEITHER, so maybe just you and me take the falcon and this buncha' breeders can sardine they asses into the Clark Griswald out there?
Slappendash laughed and grinned. "You called me because I won't hesitate to turn troublemakers into fine mists and I sure as fuck have your back."
She then looked at the one who spoke up and thought, Hmm. Ready for if things go south. Probably too brave for his own good, but I like his attitude. I hope things don't go south.
She chuckled more, turning and motioning for them to follow. "And I may be cold, but the drek I've been through? You learn to have ice in your veins. And that arrangement works for me. It also should make people nervous. Make them wonder what else we're packing."
If they follow, she leads them down to the vehicles, making it a point to direct the others to the other vehicle while she led Sam to the Ares. Of course, she climbed into the driver's seat, making it a point to settle and let out a happy sigh as her mind connected with the machine. She liked this one; it made her feel powerful to be part of that much steel. She then took a moment, checking the vehicle's various displays to see how weapons were and running another check on her drones. It was so standard, she didn't even really think before doing it immediately.
She also turned her attention to the other car, calling up a display of its readings. Once everyone was buckled in, she would begin to drive both, having the other vehicle follow the Ares as it rolled down the street.
"Straight to the meeting, or do we have a stop first?" came her voice from a speaker in the Ares as she spoke.
-
Slappendash laughed and grinned. "You called me because I won't hesitate to turn troublemakers into fine mists and I sure as fuck have your back."
She then looked at the one who spoke up and thought, Hmm. Ready for if things go south. Probably too brave for his own good, but I like his attitude. I hope things don't go south.
It's about another two and a half hours of painting, rapping, smoking, drinking, debate about which beat making software is best, and even a small fistfight between the the elf and one of the humans before they're all ready to leave. Nothing serious, but the human got his pride hurt pretty bad and stormed out. That puts two dwarves, an ork, an elf, and two humans riding in the Ford.
She chuckled more, turning and motioning for them to follow. "And I may be cold, but the drek I've been through? You learn to have ice in your veins. And that arrangement works for me. It also should make people nervous. Make them wonder what else we're packing."
If they follow, she leads them down to the vehicles, making it a point to direct the others to the other vehicle while she led Sam to the Ares. Of course, she climbed into the driver's seat, making it a point to settle and let out a happy sigh as her mind connected with the machine. She liked this one; it made her feel powerful to be part of that much steel. She then took a moment, checking the vehicle's various displays to see how weapons were and running another check on her drones. It was so standard, she didn't even really think before doing it immediately.
She also turned her attention to the other car, calling up a display of its readings. Once everyone was buckled in, she would begin to drive both, having the other vehicle follow the Ares as it rolled down the street.
"Straight to the meeting, or do we have a stop first?" came her voice from a speaker in the Ares as she spoke.
You can't help but notice just how little preperation Sam is putting into looking presentable for this thing. For one thing, he's got that psuedo-fro that white guys get when they shave their hair off and then dont touch it for 6 months. But the front and center of it has been recently buzzed again, making him look simply crazy. Not only that, but he's still wearing the same torn and paint stained oversized yellow t-shirt he was wearing when you got here, some teal and yellow basketball shorts, and a pair of flip flops missing the toe holder on one side. He's replaced it with duct tape. He's clearly unarmed, unarmored, and unchromed, save a rather nice datajack. No jewelry, no chain, and a meta link. What the hell kinda rapper IS this guy, anyways?
Outside, his crew briefly argues over who's riding where, but it's understood that the ork is riding driver's seat. While the rest of them argue, the ork approaches you. Up close, you can tell this kid can't be any older than 15, which by ork standards is still well into adulthood. He's got a strong chin, a wide nose, blue eyes, and is actually rather attractive for an ork. With no hint of emotion of his face whatsoever, he looks you straight in the eyes and says, "I promise I will drive your car with respect, ma'am."
Once you're loaded in, Sam looks uncomfortable and you know what he's gonna say before he says it. "I know you got better reflexes and shit when you're jumped in like that, but it's just fuckin creepy, y'know? You all slumped over there, lookin' all dead and shit, and your voice all comin out a speaker? It just freaks me out. You mind just sorta chillin with me for the ride..." Here comes that grin again. "...at least till we pick Zane up? He stays just down Willowbranch off St Johns."
You check the time to find it's about twenty after nine.
-
[Isaac's place, Palm Valley, Friday July 14th, 9:03PM]
>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>Come around 8:30, want to stop for tacos on the way, feelin' like tacos.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: SRY BRO! Got caught up wit sum bullshit. On my way right now. C U in 15!
[Isaac's place, Palm Valley, Friday July 14th, 9:45PM]
The super high end halogen headlights come dancing through your windows and you immediately rush outside to meet Marcus. He's pulling up in his ice blue Diabolus. This thing is his baby. His parents bought him one just like it for his 16th birthday, but he got drunk and obliterated it in a month, so they got him another one. It met the same fate. He's on his third one now and he's had it for almost 2 years. He actually believes his folks when they say they wont get him another one, so he treats it like a baby deer.
From the look of his hair and clothes, you can tell he doesn't really know what he's getting into tonight. He's all super flashy, shiney, and hair gelly like yall are about to go to some nice place with drink specials and shit. You debate whether you should tell him or not. You worry that if you did, he'd just take more time to get ready and you're already worrying about being late. With no traffic or bullshit, you're looking at about a 30-40 minute drive to get there.
He rolls down his window and lowers his high end gucci shades before saying all smooth like, "Let's go get us some bitches." with a shit eating grin on his face.
-
"Bitch get out the way!" Johnny rides his horn, clearly frustrated with the traffic Goddamn as soon as the rain starts people get stupid he nudges along, making his way to Five Points, the ugly woman he'd yelled at flips Johnny the bird before turning down a side road.
Arriving at Jay's, Johnny sees him struggling with his new toy, clearly too hammered to finish the bike. "Jay! Brother" Johnny smiles, walking over "Daymn nice ride man, where you score this? Be mint troll sized" Jay reaches in to a cooler at his side, throwing a brew to Johnny laughing "Omaeee help me finish I owe ya mannn, bitch won't start" Jay's slurring his words, taking a look Johnny can already see several issues with the bike.
Cracking the top off his beer, Johnny gets stuck in, the work picking up Johnny's mood, the beer's also helping. Feels good to be fixin something, missed this, limbs don't seem too bad that familiar craving returns "Yo Jay, this drek be faster with a lil pick me up, you packin?" Jay 's shakes his head, missing the disappointment on Johnny's face. "Drek, everyone seem to be out, got a lil carries away with a couple chicks, drek they bled me dry"
Shooting the shit for several hours, Johnny works on the bike. Jay becomes less and less useful as time goes on, eventually leaning against a bench, talking drek as Johnny works. Pulling out his commlink, Johnny fires a message to Lucy
Outgoing Message
>>Recipient: Lucy
>>Message: Sis! We still on for dinner Sunday? I know you be makin my fav
As the message is sent, Johnny checks the time Drek will be latif I don't boost "Yo Jay! I'm off omae, need ta shoot, bike looks good, ya owe me one" Johnny looks at Jay, seems to be in bad shape, drek they'd gone through at least a box since he'd been there. He carries Jay over to a chair in the workshop, slumping him down before heading off. Jumping in to the Bulldog he's off One best have some good shit...
-
[Isaac's place, Palm Valley, Friday July 14th, 9:03PM]
>>Reply
>>To: Marcus
>>Come around 8:30, want to stop for tacos on the way, feelin' like tacos.
>> Reply
>> Sender: Marcus
>> Message: SRY BRO! Got caught up wit sum bullshit. On my way right now. C U in 15!
[Isaac's place, Palm Valley, Friday July 14th, 9:45PM]
The super high end halogen headlights come dancing through your windows and you immediately rush outside to meet Marcus. He's pulling up in his ice blue Diabolus. This thing is his baby. His parents bought him one just like it for his 16th birthday, but he got drunk and obliterated it in a month, so they got him another one. It met the same fate. He's on his third one now and he's had it for almost 2 years. He actually believes his folks when they say they wont get him another one, so he treats it like a baby deer.
From the look of his hair and clothes, you can tell he doesn't really know what he's getting into tonight. He's all super flashy, shiney, and hair gelly like yall are about to go to some nice place with drink specials and shit. You debate whether you should tell him or not. You worry that if you did, he'd just take more time to get ready and you're already worrying about being late. With no traffic or bullshit, you're looking at about a 30-40 minute drive to get there.
He rolls down his window and lowers his high end gucci shades before saying all smooth like, "Let's go get us some bitches." with a shit eating grin on his face.
Isaac smirked, Marcus always had some way of making Isaac laugh, either at him or with him. He leaned his head down into the window, Damn son, which boy band threw up on you?. Marcus took a swipe at him and he ducked back laughing. Isaac pulled the door open and plopped himself inside, his body settling into the expensive leather.
He pulled two suckers from his jacket pocket and motioned one toward Marcus, who shook his head, No thanks chummer, I'm already dining on some sweets. He chuckled, pulling his shirt sleeve up to reveal a bliss patch on his wrist. Isaac sighed as he unwrapped one of the candies and stuck it into his mouth. Traffic my ass he muttered to himself. He wondered if it was the best idea to be riding with his friend while part of him was off in some fantasy world, but Marcus had survived two other car wrecks, both most likely the result of being high as a kite, so Isaac saw his chances of living about as high as Marcus is. Isaac kicked his feet up on the dashboard and motioned forward, and Marcus happily obliged.
-
@Johnny
[The Cave, Friday, July 14th, 8:15]
This place sucks. Maybe if it weren't over 90 degrees and mildly raining, it'd be different, but it is and it aint. The walk up the 8 flights of stairs to get up to the roof where the show is going down was horrible. The entire building is poorly maintained and several squatters and animals obviously make their homes on the first seven floors, you could tell from the smell. When you reached the top, you were greeted by two slightly overweight elf women, a brunette and a redhead sitting behind a card table between the stairwell and and the main rooftop area. They're both playing games on their comms and when you approach, the brunette looks up at you and arches one eyebrow before speaking. "You here for the emcee battle?"
She shrugs at your response and says, "Whatever, omae. Ten bucks."
On the rooftop, there's maybe 4 couches, all of which are older than you are, a bar with a sleepy troll with dreds standing behind it, looking around bored, and a small stage with a DJ set up near the back of it. There's tarps over the stage, the money table, and the bar to keep the important people dry, but everyone else is on their own. And by everyone else, i mean you, the two elves, the bartender, an ork DJ texting on his comm, and 2 big chromed human bouncers.
You're the first person here. Fuckin' One.
The view of the skyline is kind of amazing from up here though.
-
[Parking lot of The Cave, Friday, July 14th, 10:15]
Only about half the streetlights that ought to be working actually are once you get this far north of downtown. Not that there's much to see around here anyways. Just the light drizzle and the tiny rivers of rainwater, winding their way through the gutters. The building this show/meet/whatever is supposed to be on top of is really run down and dilapidated. It looks like it'd make a decent squat if things really went south. Far enough south from Northside proper to be free from any serious gang violence, but just too far north to be part of any serious police patrols, it's an ideal area for panhandlers, looking to hit up rich kids on their way to their cars at the end of the night. At least 4 or 5 such people are clearly visible, roaming about looking for a score, and it's obvious that there's really nothing one can do on the street without being observed by SOMEONE. The parking lot is almost full and you can hear the thump of far away bass, most likely coming from the roof.
@Slackjaw
Marcus has been on auto-pilot for the whole drive and thank god. Between the bliss and the sleep deprivation, he's barely able to remember where you guys are going. He tells you all about how fucked up he got last night and no matter how much he tries to make it sound interesting, it just sounds like every other story about how fucked up someone got. He also spends about half the drive switching back and forth between "Dude, I'm SO SORRY i got here late! I know you wanted those tacos and I fucked it all up man!" and "Man, FUCK you and your fuckin' tacos, man! Think you're all hot shit, fuck YOU, man." This has been one of the longer half hour drives of your life.
Once you're in the parking lot, he looks confused. "The fuck kinda bullshit is THIS? You never told me we were going to some drekhole in the fuckin' northside!" Despite all your reassurances that you DID indeed tell him multiple times, he refuses to believe it, and just keeps getting angrier and angrier. He even pushes you at one point and dares you to do something about it. You can tell he's absolutely obliterated, so you go easy on him, but eventually, no matter how cool you are about it, he calls you a faggot, jumps back in his car, and drives off in a huff. You can hear his tires squealing around the block.
As you turn to look around, you realize everyone in this parking lot has been watching you. Not only the panhandlers, but also two others. One is a rather large and muscular human who's just gotten off a dirtbike. He's got shaggy brown hair and a face covered in stubble, which gives him a very slackerish look with the grey faded t shirt, big baggy khaki pants, and dark brown combat boots.
The other is a human male and you swear you recognize him from somewhere. He's standing at the far edge of the parking lot near a crappy little beat down yellow Peugeot, watching the action between you and Marcus from afar. He's got the collar of his dark blue knee length coat popped up to help keep the rain out, but still, something about this guy seems familiar. At the moment, you can't quite see him well enough to be sure though.
@Samuel
It's never fun riding the dirtbike in the rain, but you've gotten used to it over the years. You're pretty much guaranteed to get soaked to the bone, but the helmet at least keeps the worst of it off your head and out of your eyes. Just a quick jaunt through riverside and over the bridge put you smack in the middle of downtown. Being careful to stay away from the nicer parts where you'd be almost guaranteed to get SIN checked, you wind your way north until you find yourself in the right place. Shit, you went right past here today on a route. Looks way different at night.
As you park the bike, you can see a little bit of foot traffic in the parking lot. What really draws your eye though are the two young guys in nice clothes screaming at eachother near a gorgeous ice blue Ferrari. What the hell these rich kids thought they were getting into is beyond you, but it looks like one of them is having second thoughts about it.
By the time you get your alarm and everything settled, the car is gone in a cloud of smoke and the ork in the expensive clothes is standing alone in the parking lot, looking around.
@Francis
You pulled up quietly and parked the car in an easy to get out of spot, then waited and watched for a little bit, just to get a lay of the land. So far, it looks like your standard low grade social sort of event. None of the people you've seen enter have looked particularly dangerous, although some of them are obviously trying to. You've seen enough killers in your day to know who's real and who's playing a role. You get a little nervous when you see the Diabolus pull up, thinking maybe there ARE gonna be some real players at this thing. Could this be bigger than you were told? Then you see the two rich kids get out and your nerves are settled. You wouldn't have looked twice at either of them until they started screaming at each other, but now that you have you're pretty sure you know the kid who just got ditched. It looks like this decker named Slackjaw that you used to get information on the sly from every now and then back in your old life.
Checking the time, you notice it's getting close to 10:30. Don't wanna keep people waiting.
-
[Friday 22:25 - 14.07 | The Cave’s parking lot | North of Downtown]
Hmm, unless the heavyweights haven’t bothered to show up yet it seems like I was getting all worked up over nothing. Leave the gun in the car or take it with? Nah, too much fucking bother getting the slide off.
Getting out of the car Francis settles his jacket and squares his shoulders. The fuck is Richie there doing in this part of town?
As Francis draws near Slackjaw he calls out, "Hey Chico, fuck you doing in the slums? Brothers here will cut you if you gonna try to dazzle their girls with them designer threads!" Once he’s gotten Slackjaw’s attention he gives him a quick grin, “Are you coming up and buying an old, unemployed man a drink or were you planning on staring forlornly after your buddy for a while longer?”
-
Isaac crunched the last of his lolipop at the fading dust trail Marcus had left in his angry exit,He'll come around, always does. he reassured himself before turning to the human who was shouting at him over the even staccato of raindrops. He looked familiar, Isaac just couldn't place him. He trudged over with a sigh and flicked the lolipop stick onto the concrete, before looking up to the man with a smirk.
You asking me out on a date, chummer? he sneered while unwrapping his last candy. Just fuckin' with ya, I think I know you from somewhere.Tell you what, I'll buy you that drink and you brief me on where I know you from, yeah?
-
Slappendash laughed and grinned. "You called me because I won't hesitate to turn troublemakers into fine mists and I sure as fuck have your back."
She then looked at the one who spoke up and thought, Hmm. Ready for if things go south. Probably too brave for his own good, but I like his attitude. I hope things don't go south.
It's about another two and a half hours of painting, rapping, smoking, drinking, debate about which beat making software is best, and even a small fistfight between the the elf and one of the humans before they're all ready to leave. Nothing serious, but the human got his pride hurt pretty bad and stormed out. That puts two dwarves, an ork, an elf, and two humans riding in the Ford.
She chuckled more, turning and motioning for them to follow. "And I may be cold, but the drek I've been through? You learn to have ice in your veins. And that arrangement works for me. It also should make people nervous. Make them wonder what else we're packing."
If they follow, she leads them down to the vehicles, making it a point to direct the others to the other vehicle while she led Sam to the Ares. Of course, she climbed into the driver's seat, making it a point to settle and let out a happy sigh as her mind connected with the machine. She liked this one; it made her feel powerful to be part of that much steel. She then took a moment, checking the vehicle's various displays to see how weapons were and running another check on her drones. It was so standard, she didn't even really think before doing it immediately.
She also turned her attention to the other car, calling up a display of its readings. Once everyone was buckled in, she would begin to drive both, having the other vehicle follow the Ares as it rolled down the street.
"Straight to the meeting, or do we have a stop first?" came her voice from a speaker in the Ares as she spoke.
You can't help but notice just how little preperation Sam is putting into looking presentable for this thing. For one thing, he's got that psuedo-fro that white guys get when they shave their hair off and then dont touch it for 6 months. But the front and center of it has been recently buzzed again, making him look simply crazy. Not only that, but he's still wearing the same torn and paint stained oversized yellow t-shirt he was wearing when you got here, some teal and yellow basketball shorts, and a pair of flip flops missing the toe holder on one side. He's replaced it with duct tape. He's clearly unarmed, unarmored, and unchromed, save a rather nice datajack. No jewelry, no chain, and a meta link. What the hell kinda rapper IS this guy, anyways?
Outside, his crew briefly argues over who's riding where, but it's understood that the ork is riding driver's seat. While the rest of them argue, the ork approaches you. Up close, you can tell this kid can't be any older than 15, which by ork standards is still well into adulthood. He's got a strong chin, a wide nose, blue eyes, and is actually rather attractive for an ork. With no hint of emotion of his face whatsoever, he looks you straight in the eyes and says, "I promise I will drive your car with respect, ma'am."
Once you're loaded in, Sam looks uncomfortable and you know what he's gonna say before he says it. "I know you got better reflexes and shit when you're jumped in like that, but it's just fuckin creepy, y'know? You all slumped over there, lookin' all dead and shit, and your voice all comin out a speaker? It just freaks me out. You mind just sorta chillin with me for the ride..." Here comes that grin again. "...at least till we pick Zane up? He stays just down Willowbranch off St Johns."
You check the time to find it's about twenty after nine.
Slappendash merely watched the fight, smiling. Boys will be boys, men will be men.
She nodded to the one who said he'd drive carefully and smiled. She also decided to give him the benefit of the doubt; after all, she was in the heavily armored vehicle.
And then came Sam's request, once she was on the road. She silently engaged the autopilot, then shifted back to reality. She blinked as she came out and yawned, then reached up to pull the wire out of her head before taking the wheel and flicking the dogbrain back to sleep. "Sure, I can chill. Just love being inside the machine. You have no idea how it feels."
She grinned to herself, thinking. I wonder how often people see someone slumped over and assume they're rigging.
She made it a point to change direction, pulling up a map as she tapped the dashboard so she could change direction before sending a signal to the other vehicle. "I let the others know. I figured it would stop any trouble if both of us showed up. Make people look twice at the vehicles."
Her eyes then turned to him, even as she called up an ARO to keep a display of the van's front. "Chillin's good. Better than running the drone diagnostics over and over. I think I need to do a tune-up on one."
She smiled. "If I dive back in, means I think there's trouble."
And I hope it's not disconcerting that I'm not looking at the road...
-
Isaac crunched the last of his lolipop at the fading dust trail Marcus had left in his angry exit,He'll come around, always does. he reassured himself before turning to the human who was shouting at him over the even staccato of raindrops. He looked familiar, Isaac just couldn't place him. He trudged over with a sigh and flicked the lolipop stick onto the concrete, before looking up to the man with a smirk.
You asking me out on a date, chummer? he sneered while unwrapping his last candy. Just fuckin' with ya, I think I know you from somewhere.Tell you what, I'll buy you that drink and you brief me on where I know you from, yeah?
"Shake on it?", Francis offers Slackjaw his hand before heading inside, "Well, I might actually be getting the better end of this deal as it’s not much of a story. How ’bout you buy the drinks and I’ll add in shots?”
"See, I used to work at the DA’s and unless I’m mistaken, and I have an excellent mind for faces, you came in and did some ‘private’ work for us now and again.” You can hear the quotation marks fall in place around private. "You here on biz? In which case I’ll make sure not to cramp your style or is this show I done got dragged to actually something worth seeing?"
-
Isaac crunched the last of his lolipop at the fading dust trail Marcus had left in his angry exit,He'll come around, always does. he reassured himself before turning to the human who was shouting at him over the even staccato of raindrops. He looked familiar, Isaac just couldn't place him. He trudged over with a sigh and flicked the lolipop stick onto the concrete, before looking up to the man with a smirk.
You asking me out on a date, chummer? he sneered while unwrapping his last candy. Just fuckin' with ya, I think I know you from somewhere.Tell you what, I'll buy you that drink and you brief me on where I know you from, yeah?
"Shake on it?", Francis offers Slackjaw his hand before heading inside, "Well, I might actually be getting the better end of this deal as it’s not much of a story. How ’bout you buy the drinks and I’ll add in shots?”
"See, I used to work at the DA’s and unless I’m mistaken, and I have an excellent mind for faces, you came in and did some ‘private’ work for us now and again.” You can hear the quotation marks fall in place around private. "You here on biz? In which case I’ll make sure not to cramp your style or is this show I done got dragged to actually something worth seeing?"
They seated themselves and ordered their drinks while the human relayed his tale to Isaac. He clicked the sweet around on his teeth loudly and looked around before answering, DA's office huh? Yeah I remember that, decent pay, you're Frank right? No, Fred? Ah fuck it, starts with an F, and nah, no business tonight, just pleasure. You'd know if I was here for work, I'd be luggin' my shit with me like a mule.
Isaac kicked his feet up on the table before one of the staff gave him a look that shot daggers, and he quickly placed them back onto the floor.
So what are you doing in a dive like this? I can't image it's for the atmosphere, doesn't look like your kind of friday night getaway, but I could be wrong, I can't even remember your name. The drinks were set down on the table by the same waiter that threatened to murder him and end his family name with just a glare. Isaac winked at him with a grin and picked up the glass with his left hand while flexing his chrome fingers in the other. Damn thing is in need of a checkup.
-
They seated themselves and ordered their drinks while the human relayed his tale to Isaac. He clicked the sweet around on his teeth loudly and looked around before answering, DA's office huh? Yeah I remember that, decent pay, you're Frank right? No, Fred? Ah fuck it, starts with an F, and nah, no business tonight, just pleasure. You'd know if I was here for work, I'd be luggin' my shit with me like a mule.
Isaac kicked his feet up on the table before one of the staff gave him a look that shot daggers, and he quickly placed them back onto the floor.
So what are you doing in a dive like this? I can't image it's for the atmosphere, doesn't look like your kind of friday night getaway, but I could be wrong, I can't even remember your name. The drinks were set down on the table by the same waiter that threatened to murder him and end his family name with just a glare. Isaac winked at him with a grin and picked up the glass with his left hand while flexing his chrome fingers in the other. Damn thing is in need of a checkup.
Francis starts with the shot of Stoli before raising his glass to Slackjaw, "Salud", and taking a small sip of his rum. "Name’s Francis, weren’t far off at all. Heh, yeah, at least you matrix wranglers aren’t hoofing it around with gear the size of this table like they used to back in the day."
Francis settles back in his seat, drink in hand and takes in the crowd, "Nah, this ain’t really my scene to be honest. Friend of mine asked me to be here tonight, name of One. He’s all down with this underground shit, grown ass man should know better."
-
[The Cave, Rooftop, July 14th 10:35]
@Samuel, Slackjaw, and Francis
The three of you make your way up the dark, rickety, and foul smelling seven flights of stairs. Samuel, being much more accustomed to physical labor and not really connected to the other two, is already at the top, paying his 10 bucks to the two heavy elf women by the time Slack and Francis reach the 5th floor. This place is actually kinda jumpin' now. There's maybe 80 people, mostly orks, mostly men, all drenched from the rain and packed onto a tiny little rooftop.
The DJ, who was lonely and bored 2 hours ago, is now working his ass off in a whirlwind of sound and charisma. He's wearing AR gloves, and operating several ARO turntables at once, creating a brand new song you actually kind of like out of bits and pieces of 6 other hugely popular and overplayed songs you hated the first time you heard them. This tall skinny ork is actually really impressive. Off to the side of the DJ booth, stands a line of about 6 hopeful looking young men of varying races. You assume they're waiting for their turn on the tables, but mostly they're just watching this guy's style and trying to learn new tricks from a true master.
The music is set at an ear splitting level, the bass far higher than it needs to be to reach everyone on the rooftop, and you'd be wise to not linger too close to the speakers for too long.
The troll with dreds behind the bar is working his ass off and it takes a few minutes to get a drink, shouldering though the sea of aggressive dudes just to reach the bar. And the volume you've got to holler at to be heard over the music is almost throat splitting. The drinks are overpriced, too; 5 for a beer, 10 for anything else, and it's all well liquor, nothing top shelf at all. Not that it matters to this crowd. Jesus, you already spent 10 to get in here!
They seated themselves and ordered their drinks while the human relayed his tale to Isaac. He clicked the sweet around on his teeth loudly and looked around before answering, DA's office huh? Yeah I remember that, decent pay, you're Frank right? No, Fred? Ah fuck it, starts with an F, and nah, no business tonight, just pleasure. You'd know if I was here for work, I'd be luggin' my shit with me like a mule.
Isaac kicked his feet up on the table before one of the staff gave him a look that shot daggers, and he quickly placed them back onto the floor.
So what are you doing in a dive like this? I can't image it's for the atmosphere, doesn't look like your kind of friday night getaway, but I could be wrong, I can't even remember your name. The drinks were set down on the table by the same waiter that threatened to murder him and end his family name with just a glare. Isaac winked at him with a grin and picked up the glass with his left hand while flexing his chrome fingers in the other. Damn thing is in need of a checkup.
Francis starts with the shot of Stoli before raising his glass to Slackjaw, "Salud", and taking a small sip of his rum. "Name’s Francis, weren’t far off at all. Heh, yeah, at least you matrix wranglers aren’t hoofing it around with gear the size of this table like they used to back in the day."
Francis settles back in his seat, drink in hand and takes in the crowd, "Nah, this ain’t really my scene to be honest. Friend of mine asked me to be here tonight, name of One. He’s all down with this underground shit, grown ass man should know better."
@Johnny
Two Frakking Hours. That's how long you've been sitting on this horrible smelling couch in the rain, waiting for One, watching these assholes pose and strut to see who's the most bad-ass. The joint has started jumpin a lot more in that time, but the whole thing is just getting on your damn nerves. There's actually a couple heads in here you recognize, minor players in the game, gang affiliates, no one big, but a couple people who actually know a thing or two. You're considering striking up a conversation with a dwarf you used to smoke zen with back in the day, but then your eyes focus on a couple of people that don't belong here. A young rich kid ork with a really nice suit, nicer chromed arm, and a lollipop hangin out his mouth, probably fancies himself some kind of Johnson in the making, walks in with a grubby looking human wearing a dark blue coat with a wide collar, dark blue jeans, a maroon button down shirt, and a knife in it's holster on his hip, easily visible under the jacket. He looks more like a high school teacher than anything else, and you wonder what he's doing when he sits down and starts chatting with shiney suit man at one of the other couches.
-
@ Slappendash
It only took about 5 minutes before you pulled up out front of a tiny, yet quaint little house near the river. Once you pulled into the drive, One told you to wait here, then jogged up to the door, knocked, and entered when a gorgeous dark skinned dwarf woman opened it for him. That was about twenty minutes ago. You were just about to send Sam a message to make sure everything was still cool, when he and a short, grumpy looking male dwarf with a crazy beard growing in every direction at once exit the house together and load up into your battle wagon.
It takes about 2 blocks before Zane is done rolling one up and looking around for a lighter. That's when his eyes go wide and his jaw drops. He gives Sam an accusatory stare and says, "Yo, what the fuck is all these drones and ammo and whatnot doin back here? I thought we was goin' to a jam! I aint down for none of that gangster shit, Sam. You KNOW that, man!" One leans over to light his joint for him, staying cool as ever. "Naw, son. This Slap, right here. That rigger I told you about? This her ride." Zane does not look calmed by that information at all. "Ok, so why is some bad-ass shadow runner chick comin to this jam then, huh?" One sort of quiets down a bit. Maybe he thinks you can't hear him, but he's gotta know that you hear every single sound in this truck, jumped in or not. "Jill hit me up this morning. It's about Ellis." At that name, all the irritation and grumpy drains out of the little dwarf's face, replaced by a vague sense of melancholy. He only responds with a nod and an "Oh."
For the rest of the ride, the two of them smoke the joint that Zane rolled as well as another that Sam brought with him and talk about song lyrics from new rap songs that Zane finds irresponsible.
"Naw, dude! How the fuck you just gonna say, Bitch, i know you want it. and that song NOT be about rape?!"
"Fuck that shit son. Alls i know is when they play that song in the club, bitches go crazy."
"Bitches go crazy? See Sam? That right there is why I got Tina and YOUR girl just threw you out."
By the time you three pull up in the parking lot downtown, you're starting to like Zane.
After another god knows how long in the car while they finish off their smoke and practice throwing some battle raps at each other, the three of you are finally ready to enter the Cave. It's about five till eleven as you walk in the front door and begin the exhausting seven story climb to the rooftop.
-
@ Slappendash
It only took about 5 minutes before you pulled up out front of a tiny, yet quaint little house near the river. Once you pulled into the drive, One told you to wait here, then jogged up to the door, knocked, and entered when a gorgeous dark skinned dwarf woman opened it for him. That was about twenty minutes ago. You were just about to send Sam a message to make sure everything was still cool, when he and a short, grumpy looking male dwarf with a crazy beard growing in every direction at once exit the house together and load up into your battle wagon.
It takes about 2 blocks before Zane is done rolling one up and looking around for a lighter. That's when his eyes go wide and his jaw drops. He gives Sam an accusatory stare and says, "Yo, what the fuck is all these drones and ammo and whatnot doin back here? I thought we was goin' to a jam! I aint down for none of that gangster shit, Sam. You KNOW that, man!" One leans over to light his joint for him, staying cool as ever. "Naw, son. This Slap, right here. That rigger I told you about? This her ride." Zane does not look calmed by that information at all. "Ok, so why is some bad-ass shadow runner chick comin to this jam then, huh?" One sort of quiets down a bit. Maybe he thinks you can't hear him, but he's gotta know that you hear every single sound in this truck, jumped in or not. "Jill hit me up this morning. It's about Ellis." At that name, all the irritation and grumpy drains out of the little dwarf's face, replaced by a vague sense of melancholy. He only responds with a nod and an "Oh."
For the rest of the ride, the two of them smoke the joint that Zane rolled as well as another that Sam brought with him and talk about song lyrics from new rap songs that Zane finds irresponsible.
"Naw, dude! How the fuck you just gonna say, Bitch, i know you want it. and that song NOT be about rape?!"
"Fuck that shit son. Alls i know is when they play that song in the club, bitches go crazy."
"Bitches go crazy? See Sam? That right there is why I got Tina and YOUR girl just threw you out."
By the time you three pull up in the parking lot downtown, you're starting to like Zane.
After another god knows how long in the car while they finish off their smoke and practice throwing some battle raps at each other, the three of you are finally ready to enter the Cave. It's about five till eleven as you walk in the front door and begin the exhausting seven story climb to the rooftop.
For the most part, Slappendash found the wait boring; she used the opportunity to repeatedly check her drones, running status checks on each. Wasn't necessary, but it was better than doing nothing. Plus, the drones couldn't get annoyed... well, except the Fly-Spy drone, but she was certain that one was perpetually annoyed about its lot in life. And the Flying Eye was just a psycho! Always talking about how it loved to spy on people and would like to slip in and detonate itself...
Slappendash silently reflected that she needs to get out more and stop assigning personalities and words to her drones.
And then their latest passenger was inside and they were moving again, with her mostly keeping silent. It wasn't until he reacted that she broke her silence, laughing at his reaction and trying her best to keep the vehicle driving straight. She gave a wave hello as she was introduced, grinning with mirth. The rest of the conversation she followed as best as she could, though she had to silently wonder who Ellis was.
Once they arrived, she stopped to open the backdoor of her van, sending commands through her RCC to activate the Fly-Spy, Flying Eye, and Roto Drone. "Sam, what's the policy on drones in this place? I don't feel comfortable walking in without at least some insurance, but I don't want to draw too much attention." Meanwhile, she thought, But I would be crazy not to be prepared to shoot the place up if things go badly.
If he says they blend in, she orders all three drones to dispatch from the van, with the Roto-Drone following while the others fly ahead. If he says they don't, only the Fly-Spy is sent ahead while she keeps the Flying Eye close to her. Either way. she keeps feeds from all three drones and the van in her eyesight as she makes her way up the stairs.
Once she emerged up-top, she winced a moment at the music, then looked around for the people she was supposed to be meeting. If Sam led the way, she followed him to the group, just to meet up with them. I bet the music covers conversation. Creates an air of privacy.
-
Once they arrived, she stopped to open the backdoor of her van, sending commands through her RCC to activate the Fly-Spy, Flying Eye, and Roto Drone. "Sam, what's the policy on drones in this place? I don't feel comfortable walking in without at least some insurance, but I don't want to draw too much attention." Meanwhile, she thought, But I would be crazy not to be prepared to shoot the place up if things go badly.
"Lots a mugs got fly spies, thinkin' they gonna be the next trid star or some shit, but lets keep the hardware to a minimum, word? These are MY people. We're safe in here, girl.
C'mon, lets go."
Zane gives you one of those, "for real?" kind of looks before following One toward the building.
-
The Cave 8:15pm
Damn this place worse than my hood, the fuck holds shit here Glancing around Johnny heads upstars, stepping over broken bottles, rubbish, drek even a needle, heading up the stairs of the delpiated building.
Drek these ladies at the top of the stairs definitely not worth the trouble...hope that smell aint them... Johnny frowns, having to pay 10 bucks for some bullshit MC Man aint my style, nothin like the double kicks pumping behind the wheel. I See One get some shit n shoot... Easy... Whipping out his comm, Johnny transfers the 10 bucks, heading inside to look around.
Fucker's late, damn dealers, never on time Johnny scowls, looking at the few inhabitants Fuck it, might as well get a beer Johnny heads over to the troll bartender motioning him over."Omae, a beer for a thirsy Troll? Drek, one for yaself?" Johnny takes his brew, tipping the bartender shooting the shit a little before moving on Best keep on his good side Johnny walks over to the edge of the rooftop, leaning over the railing, taking the the scenery. Now this a little better.... Johnny stares out over Downtown, glancing behind him once in a while to check for One.
The Cave 10:35pm
Motherfucker I be about ready to punch One in the face Johnny's several beers down, having waited a couple hours already. Damn music giving me a headache, drek, maybe hit that dwarf up for a hit... nah, not feeling the down buzz as Johnny looks around, scanning the room, he notices the newcomers Drek that ork dressed like a pretty boy and that lollipop? Johnny chuckles, downing the rest of his beer Wonder what these fools are up to Johnny wanders over to the bar, ordering another beer from the troll barkeep. "Yo, check them out what's with the lollipop, some kind of pop star wannabe? Looks lost, how long before someone tries to start shit with that one? Johnny smiles, sipping on his cheap beer, looking over at the latest arrivals
-
Isaac broke away from the music and strode towards the bar, he'd been here for a little while, making small talk with some of the other patrons, seeing what he could see. He stepped up to the counter next to a hulking troll with a broken horn. He ordered a beer from the troll behind the counter and turned, resting his back on the counter casually, scanning the crowd. He slipped the sucker from his mouth and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger, it had shrunk to the size of a corn kernel now, almost comically small.
He turned to the behemoth beside him, Jesus man, what's your secret? No matter how many workout trids I watch I could only dream of achieving your size. He snickered and flicked his lolipop stick out onto the ground. He reached back and grabbed his drink, feeling the glare of the troll.
-
[The Cave, Rooftop, July 14th, 11:02pm]
One67 walks up in the joint like a celebrity, stopping only briefly to kiss the two heavy elf ladies on the cheek. Neither he, the pink mohawk sporting human woman on his left, or the fuzzy bearded little red eyed dwarf coming up behind them are charged admission. At least a quarter of the people on this rooftop recognize him and are happy to see him, giving hand slaps and fist pounds left and right. The woman with him is under six foot, wearing a tank top with a peace sign on it and a synthleather skirt with leggings beneath. She covers the whole thing up with a trenchcoat, and there's probably some hardware of some sort hidden inside. One is wearing a torn and paint stained oversized yellow t-shirt over some teal and yellow basketball shorts along with a pair of flip flops. He's clearly unarmed, unarmored, and has no jewelry, chain, or anything obvious of value. What the hell kinda rapper is this guy supposed to be anyway?
He and the dwarf exchange a few quick words with each other before they split up. One and the mohawk weave through the throng of club goers over toward the bar, while the dwarf heads over toward the DJ booth.
@Johnny
You were considering getting into it with the little ork rich boy for a moment, but his senses must have finally got the better of him. Once he heads back to his chummer on the couch, you take another look around the rooftop and notice a familiar shape at the entrance. FINALLY! Fuckin ONE! You're about to make your way toward him, when he sees you and waves. "JOHNNAY!" He and his lady friend make a beeline straight for you. As soon as he gets in arms reach, he slaps hands with you, quietly passing you 2 pills in the process. Leaning his head down close to your ear, he says "Sorry I took so long, homie. That's on me, right there. Like, as an apology, cool?"
After slapping his hand again, you open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off before you can. "This my girl, Slap right here." He motions toward mohawk next to him. "Play the same sorta game YOU play, word? Now, you can get movin' if you want. I know i done kept ya out late and all, BUT- I got a lead on a job, like, tonight, if you need some jing. Jus follow me if you're down, otherwise, holler at me tomorrow and we can do some bidness, word?" A quick exchange, then back into the whirlwind of people.
@Slackjaw and Francis
You two are catching up on old times, having a drink or two, and generally starting to wonder if One is gonna show up. Slackjaw is contemplating whether he should have another shot or lay off it for a minute when he feels a large hand come down on his left shoulder. One, with is goofy white boy fro, shaved down the center stands at about 6 ft 4 behind him with that big silly grin on his face. Cocking his head to the side before speaking, he says "Yall two know eachother?" He shakes his head. "Dun matter. Yall down to work?" He's got the broken horned troll and the pink mohawk woman with him.
"Good. Slack, see that mug over there?" He points out the human you saw getting off the dirtbike earlier. Currently, he's dancing with an ork woman in baggy blue jeans and a red tank top. "That's my homie, Sam. Go get that dude, and bring him to those two girls at the door. I'll meetchyall in a minute. You three," he motions to Slap, Francis, and Johnny. "come with me."
Sam turns and starts leading the three of you through the crowd, slapping hands with people, saying hi, pounding fists, and just generally letting the party know he's here and things are about to get started for real. After a few minutes of mingling, he finally heads back toward the entrance, to meet up with the rest of the group.
@Samuel
At first, you weren't really into this whole thing, but the longer you've been here, the more people you recognize and the more fun you start to have. There's a LOT of riverside locals here. In fact, you'd guess that about a third of the heads on this rooftop live within 20 blocks of you. Needless to say, most of the people are friendly once they realize you belong there, even if you dont exactly dress the part. About half an hour ago, an ork woman bought you a drink and started flirting with you. At least you think she was flirting. You're not sure how it works with orks. After a few minutes of talking with her, you realize that she's the same ork woman you made the drop off with earlier in the day! She must have thought you were cute and remembered you. By now, the two of you are dancing, and things have started to look like they might actually get serious. That's when the the young ork in the expensive jacket taps you on the shoulder with his shiny chrome cyber-hand. Uh oh. Boyfriend?
-
Francis can’t help but marvel at how Sam works the room, Fuck that rap shit, THIS is watching an artist at work. I wonder what the hell he has planned here.
As Francis gets up he gives a nod to the mohawk girl and the big troll, finishes his drink, settles his clothes and follows after One.
-
Isaac broke Samuel's attention to the cute Ork girl with a tap to the shoulder and flashed a quick smile to both of them as a brief greeting. He brought his head close to Samuel's and yelled in an attempt to fight against the pounding of the bass against their eardrums, Hey there, Samuel, yeah? You can call me Slackjaw, we have a mutual friend who ordered me to direct you to the large elves over there he gestures to the elves with a quick hand motion, Sorry for being the cockblock, but don't shoot the messenger, huh? he brings his arm behind Samuel's and gives it a friendly smack, pulling him away from the Ork and towards the two elves. Isaac looked back over Samuel's shoulder and shot an apologetic smile at the Ork girl.
-
Grinning, Johnny replies to the well dressed Ork "Healthy diet of pretty boy Orks, that sucker aint gunna help ya grow, son" he laughs as the ork walks back to his table, Johnny glaring a little as he hits back down.
After introductions, Johnny takes the pills, shoving em both in his pockets, considering walking to a bathroom then and there Drek, take it easy Johnny, can wait a few minutes Johnny slaps One's hand "Was about to think you a no show brother, cheers for comin through, fuck seems everyone a little dry today"
At the mention of work Johnny considers What happened to score and out Johnny? Hmm the nuyen IS a little low… could use a decent job… "What are the deets man?" he looks Slap up and down, extending a hand "Name's Johnny sweetheart, how you doin?" Smooth, Johnny, real smooth…
Fuck it, hit these pills, do a job, make some cash… could be a good night Johnny puts a fist toward One "Sure thing brother, drek, had nothing else on tonight… following after One, Johnny wonders what the fuck he's getting himself in to, the pills burning a hole in his pocket.
-
Slappendash grinned as she saw how people reacted, but quickly smoothed her face; she was here on business, after all. She sent a quick command to the Fly-Spy to just circle the room and keep an eye on things while ordering the Flying Eye to follow her closely. The Roto Drone was ordered to just remain where it was outside and scan for anyone causing trouble. The commands left as quick as they were thought, with her turning her attention toward the group. If Francis makes no effort to be stealthy in how he follows, she nods to him in acknowledgement; if he is, he catches her not paying attention.
Once close, she gives a quick wave to Johnny, before grinning as Johnny introduces himself. "Slappendash. Named for my favorite way of using plastic explosives." It's an obvious lie and she doesn't even try to hide it; instead, she grins as though it was a joke. "Just here to learn about the job and hope no pretender tries to make their fantasies real. I don't like the whiny sobbing."
She follows Sam and Johnny down, while ordering the Flying Eye to park near the door into private and keep an eye out for anyone following. Mostly, to avoid surprises.
-
After everyone has assembled near the entryway, One leads you all back down a single flight of stairs to the seventh floor. Once on the landing, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a paint stained safety pin. After removing the piece of gum from his mouth, he sticks it to the point of the safety pin and begins fishing around in a crack in the wall with it, quickly bringing out an old bronze key. He turns his head to look at the group. "Gotta pay attention out there. Never know what's in arms reach, word?"
He uses the little key to unlock the old rusted metal door on the landing, leading the group into a somewhat unused section of the building. It doesn't smell like squatters live up here. A left turn, 10,12 steps and you're through another door, this one wooden and with a peephole in it. Perhaps it's an apartment or something, but One opens it without checking the lock.
[The Cave, RCA suite, July 14, 11:25pm]
Inside are 2 semi-nice couches, a coffee table, a few lamps, and a beat up lazyboy recliner. It's in the up position right now and sitting in it is a human woman. She's wearing simple brown sneakers, blue sweatpants, and a giant baggy red sweatshirt that says "Fletcher H.S." in gold letters. Her long, curly black hair hangs over her red, puffy eyes when she looks up at everyone entering the room, and she hurriedly starts trying to make herself look presentable. It's obvious to even the most callous and unobservant among you that she's been crying all day. She looks relieved to see One, but as she looks over the rest of the group, a look of confusion creeps it's way across her face.
(@Francis and Slackjaw, You both recognize this woman.)
"Francis? Isaac? What are YOU TWO doing here?" It seems as though, for the first time all day, her misery has been replaced with some other emotion, and even though confusion isn't a great one, her body is happy for the respite, if even for a moment.
One67 snaps back at her quickly "YO! No names here, Mrs Johnson. I don't know who the fuck those two guys YOU just said are, but these are my boys, Slackjaw and uh-" He looks quickly over at Francis, sizing him up in an instant. "- Professor. Slack and Proff, the matrix wizard and the super brain. This is Sambo, toughest mug in Riverside. This here my girl Slappendash, and that there is Nitty, couple a grid masters, y'know? Nothing gets by these two and no one gets away from em neither." After introducing you all to the Johnson, One moves to the kitchen area, opens the fridge and pulls out a can of beer. "Anyone else thirsty before we get started?"
(@Slappendash, On hearing the name "Nitty", you look back at Johnny. You know Nitty and that troll AIN'T Nitty.)
(@Johnny, who the fuck is Nitty? You aint never heard a no Nitty.)
After tossing beers to whoever wants one, One moves back into the living room, stands next to the woman, and rests his hand on her shoulder. "It's ok, girl. You got this." She steels herself and looks you all over, judging you more crtically than you've ever been judged. Finally, she clears her throat and says very slowly and with a steady, deadpan tone, "I need you to find Ellis Marques." She closes her eyes for a few seconds and takes a deep breath before opening them again and continuing. "I believe he is dead. If that is the case, his body must be-" the words catch in her throat, "destroyed in it's entirety and proof of said destruction must be provided." She looks like she can't keep going much further, being utterly exhausted by grief. One picks up the conversation for her. "Alright, there's two ways this job pays. Yall can either do 4 with 2 upfront straight, or else ya can do 3 with 1 and a half upfront, plus half off all medical care from a skilled and reputable street doc here in riverside for the next year. You can each pick and choose which payment plan yall wanna go with. Now, no fuckin round here? This here some real shit, like, for real. That's why i dug deep for the PROS like yall. You MIGHT be fuckin wit some real G's on this one, so i figured i'd be up front about it. No more info till you say if you're in.
So what the dilly, huh?"
-
Oh, god. Is that the best you can do Sam? That drek had better not stick.
When Sam leaves to fetch drinks Francis approaches Jill Marques, gives her a reassuring smile and a handshake, "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Johnson, apparently I’m Professor. I’m sure we’ll be able to assist you with whatever your problem is."
As Sam asks if anyone wants a drink Francis releases her hand and takes a few steps away, "One, any chance of you having any bottled water in there?"
He then settles back and listens to Dr. Marques explain the job. Ellis? Who is Ellis? Son? Brother? Doc never did talk about her family, don't even know if she is married.
When Marques finishes her spiel and Sam asks if they’re taking the job, Francis makes sure to get his voice in first. "Just to clarify. The discount from the doctor is of all general medicine and her surgical fees, it does not include ware, drugs or other such materials?"
Francis waits for an answer and then gives his own, "Good. I’m in on the 3k. I’ve heard good things about Mrs. Johnson’s work."
-
Isaac bit his tongue to prevent himself from calling out to Jill, he knew the rules. Instead he gave a small smile and plopped himself down onto one of the couches and caught a beer from One. He cracked it open and sipped, letting the cool liquid splash onto his tongue. He listened intently to Jill, never looking away from her as she stuttered between words.
When she and Sam had finished speaking, Isaac spoke up I'll take the 3k aswell, I could use a tune up anyway, and for a reduced price? Count me in. he flexed his cyberarm. He looked at Francis with a confused expression, flicking his head towards Jill with raised eyebrows.
-
Not really knowing what Isaac was asking him, Francis gives him a small nod. We’ll talk this out at a more convenient time. Didn’t realize our social circles overlapped, probably speaks well of the kid, doc is good people.
-
When Sam leaves to fetch drinks Francis approaches Jill Marques, gives her a reassuring smile and a handshake, "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Johnson, apparently I’m Professor. I’m sure we’ll be able to assist you with whatever your problem is."
When she puts her hand in yours, it feels cold and frail. She has no strength left. She nods and works up the best fake smile she can, but even than doesn't last more than a moment.
As Sam asks if anyone wants a drink Francis releases her hand and takes a few steps away, "One, any chance of you having any bottled water in there?"
"Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbt" He makes a farting noise while doing the jerking off motion with his hand.
When Marques finishes her spiel and Sam asks if they’re taking the job, Francis makes sure to get his voice in first. "Just to clarify. The discount from the doctor is of all general medicine and her surgical fees, it does not include ware, drugs or other such materials?"
One nods his head. "Word."
-
Slappendash tried her best not to react to the name as soon as she heard it, but she couldn't help it. Her eyes turned to Johnny.
"You're a lot healthier than the last time I saw you," Slap whispered. She did not feel the need to elaborate on that.
She shook her head to the drink offer. "I may be afterward. Gotta know how much I need to drink."
But her eyes did turn to Francis, eyebrow raised. Bottled water? Seriously?
She frowned as she listened to what the woman said. This could be trouble.
At the end, she finally spoke. "I'll take the four and two. Got expenses. And would a recording from a drone work?"
She frowned a bit, shifting weight. Please tell me this isn't the kind of mission where we have to do something insane... like slip past a dragon security guard.
-
"Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbt" He makes a farting noise while doing the jerking off motion with his hand.
Francis just smiles and shakes his head at Sam's reaction. He should know by now that I don't drink that fucking piss.
-
At the end, she finally spoke. "I'll take the four and two. Got expenses. And would a recording from a drone work?"
Sam shakes his head. "Nah girl. It's gonna have to be a sim recording. I can loan ya a rig if ya need one."
-
Sam shakes his head. "Nah girl. It's gonna have to be a sim recording. I can loan ya a rig if ya need one."
Slap nodded. "That'll work. I don't keep one of my own. It would be a hundred-fifty beetles of someone tuning up an engine or changing oil or some drek like that."
-
Sam shakes his head. "Nah girl. It's gonna have to be a sim recording. I can loan ya a rig if ya need one."
Slap nodded. "That'll work. I don't keep one of my own. It would be a hundred-fifty beetles of someone tuning up an engine or changing oil or some drek like that."
One turns and heads back to the kitchen before opening a cupboard near the ground and removing a brown motorcycle helmet with a dark visor. He comes back into the living room and tosses it to you.
Upon closer inspection, you find the helmet is equipped with audio enhancement lvl 2, low light, flare compensation, and a lvl 4 respirator in addition to the sim rig.
"Take care of it. I need it back. Use it for hittin trains at night, word?"
-
Samuel grits his teeth when One introduces him as Sambo. This motherfucker's going to have people all over the damn city calling me that. He shakes his head to the drink and focuses his attention on Mrs. Johnson. She really looks shaken up. And I can't believe anybody knows One well enough to get him to pull us together hasn't seen some shit. Destroy the body? The fuck?
"You know I'm down to bang One, long as it's banging on people that earned it. You're really sure they earned it, I'm in for the 3. Boss man just laughs when I ask about medical."
-
Samuel grits his teeth when One introduces him as Sambo. This motherfucker's going to have people all over the damn city calling me that. He shakes his head to the drink and focuses his attention on Mrs. Johnson. She really looks shaken up. And I can't believe anybody knows One well enough to get him to pull us together hasn't seen some shit. Destroy the body? The fuck?
"You know I'm down to bang One, long as it's banging on people that earned it. You're really sure they earned it, I'm in for the 3. Boss man just laughs when I ask about medical."
The woman looks up at you with a look of horror on her face, but before she can speak, One jumps in.
"Now, now. This aint exactly bangin' now. Least, if yall do it right, it won't be. Lets call this an extraction, only we don't know where the target is or if he's alive. Now IF he's gone, AND he's been picked up already, THEN there might be some bangin', word?"
-
Samuel puts a hand up in a placating gesture. "I got you, omae. Track him down, bang only as needed." He runs the hand through his hair. "Still, I'm in."
As long as shit adds up right, at least. Hope you really know who you're working with chum.
-
The broken horned troll has been standing in the corner with his arms folded, nursing a scowl since he came in. After hearing One lay down the whole spiel, he only seems to be more angry. Finally, he can't hold it down anymore. He explodes with "Nope! Nope! Fuck this! I dunno what kinda bullshit you're tryin to pull here, Sixseven, but I'm OUT!"
He looks over the group quickly, turns and heads for the door, swinging it open in a huff. Before leaving, he turns around in the doorway and says, "And the rest a yall? Yall best be careful. I don't know WHO the fuck Nitty is, but i aint him, and i don't know WHY the fuck this cat would tell you i am." Finally, he jabs his finger at One and says, "This type a shit right here is why i don't fuck with yall riverside motherfuckers," before storming out the door, his huge footsteps pounding all the way down the stairs, actually competing in volume with the bass from upstairs.
One looks angry and embarrassed for a moment, then jogs out of the room to chase after the troll, leaving you four alone in the room with "Mrs Johnson". She wears an expression betraying such a mix of emotions, not even she can process them all right now. After a few moments of silence, she stands up, walks to the other side of the room and plugs her commlink into the soundsystem for the room, makes a few movements with various AROs, and a song comes on. The younger among you don't recognize it, but it was a big hit about 20 years ago when fake cowboy yodeling came back for about six months in the pop scene. She closes her eyes and leans forward against the wall with both hands as the melody struggles to be heard above the thundering beats from above. She takes a deep breath and blasts it all out of her mouth before standing up straight and turning to face the group. With a clear voice and a near pleading tenor she says, "My name is Jill. Jill Marques. Our contact has proven to be a liar, but i want- no, i NEED you four to know that my intentions are pure, and that I can be trusted. Professor and Slackjaw can vouch for me. I have history with them. Please stay. I can answer any questions you might have about the situation."
-
The broken horned troll has been standing in the corner with his arms folded, nursing a scowl since he came in. After hearing One lay down the whole spiel, he only seems to be more angry. Finally, he can't hold it down anymore. He explodes with "Nope! Nope! Fuck this! I dunno what kinda bullshit you're tryin to pull here, Sixseven, but I'm OUT!"
He looks over the group quickly, turns and heads for the door, swinging it open in a huff. Before leaving, he turns around in the doorway and says, "And the rest a yall? Yall best be careful. I don't know WHO the fuck Nitty is, but i aint him, and i don't know WHY the fuck this cat would tell you i am." Finally, he jabs his finger at One and says, "This type a shit right here is why i don't fuck with yall riverside motherfuckers," before storming out the door, his huge footsteps pounding all the way down the stairs, actually competing in volume with the bass from upstairs.
One looks angry and embarrassed for a moment, then jogs out of the room to chase after the troll, leaving you four alone in the room with "Mrs Johnson". She wears an expression betraying such a mix of emotions, not even she can process them all right now. After a few moments of silence, she stands up, walks to the other side of the room and plugs her commlink into the soundsystem for the room, makes a few movements with various AROs, and a song comes on. The younger among you don't recognize it, but it was a big hit about 20 years ago when fake cowboy yodeling came back for about six months in the pop scene. She closes her eyes and leans forward against the wall with both hands as the melody struggles to be heard above the thundering beats from above. She takes a deep breath and blasts it all out of her mouth before standing up straight and turning to face the group. With a clear voice and a near pleading tenor she says, "My name is Jill. Jill Marques. Our contact has proven to be a liar, but i want- no, i NEED you four to know that my intentions are pure, and that I can be trusted. Professor and Slackjaw can vouch for me. I have history with them. Please stay. I can answer any questions you might have about the situation."
Is she serious? No name basis, that's how this game is played. Isaac sighed, pushing himself off of the couch. He crushed the beer can between his palms with little resistance, and tossed the flat disc of aluminum behind him with a clatter. He steps forward, making eye contact with Jill, raising his eyebrows and flashing a quick smile. Dunno about you all, but I'm in till the end. But doc, who's this Ellis? You ain't ever talk about an Ellis when, well, you know. he raises his cyberarm and waves the comment off dismissively. Isaac turns to Francis, You know the doc? he asks, face scrunched in confusion.
-
Francis tenses a bit up when Jill introduces herself to everyone, more so when she paints Sam as an untrustworthy liar, "OK, to start off. One and I go way back, I don’t know what kind of game he was playing with that troll fella’, but I would trust him with my life. There are a lot of things I wouldn’t trust him with, My baby sister being one, but my life is definitely not one of them. He’s solid."
Francis looks the group over to see if anyone has any protests before going on.
"Now with regards to the good doctor here, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of going through her meatgrinder a few times. Never known her to be anything other than a decent person worthy of trust, that said I don’t really know anything about her from a non-professional standpoint. Seems we have the same questions Slack, who is Ellis and more importantly what kind of shit has he gotten himself involved in?"
-
Francis tenses a bit up when Jill introduces herself to everyone, more so when she paints Sam as an untrustworthy liar, "OK, to start off. One and I go way back, I don’t know what kind of game he was playing with that troll fella’, but I would trust him with my life. There are a lot of things I wouldn’t trust him with, My baby sister being one, but my life is definitely not one of them. He’s solid."
"Oh, that's simple enough. I don't know anything about how to drum up shadowrunners, and Sam-er, One said he could get some high power prime runner types. The only name i knew that would qualify for such a title was Nitty. I'd never met him, but I'd heard that the troll does good work, so i requested him. One said he could get him, no problem. Then he shows up and tries to pass off some cramhead as the genuine article. Sad part is, I'd have never known if whoever that troll was hadn't spilled the beans. It makes me wonder what else I've been misled about."
Francis looks the group over to see if anyone has any protests before going on.
"Now with regards to the good doctor here, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of going through her meatgrinder a few times. Never known her to be anything other than a decent person worthy of trust, that said I don’t really know anything about her from a non-professional standpoint. Seems we have the same questions Slack, who is Ellis and more importantly what kind of shit has he gotten himself involved in?"
"Ellis is my son. He's always had his problems with drugs and stealing, but we never stopped loving eachother, no matter what. This afternoon, around 2pm, he sent me a message. I'll forward it you you four."
@Everyone,
>> Incoming Message
>> Sender: Jill: fwd from: luvpig
>> Message: hi mom. im truly sorry for everything i ever put you through. youll never have to deal with my bullshit ever again. i love you.
-Ellis.
Her eyes begin to tear up again as you each read the message. "I'm afraid he may have done something foolish."
-
Slap nodded as she accepted the helmet. "It comes back or I buy you a new one."
To her, it was a simple statement of agreement and a stating of the implied terms.
Then she looks over as the troll says he's not doing this and leaves. Interesting... I need the money too bad to not do this job. Guess he doesn't.
She then turns her attention back as a woman starts talking. She considers for a bit, then sighs. "Nitty isn't coming. He got geeked awhile back. Corporate hit got him. One got you the best people he could get. And he lied to you to protect you... Imagine if we get caught and they get us to talk. Then they ask you if you know us... but because you don't know my name, you can honestly say you don't. So it saves your hoop. And if a hit comes after us, they'll work on the wrong names... which protects us."
She smiled. "So, as far as you're concerned, that was Nitty that just walked out the door. Because while you are being lied to partially, those lies are as much to keep you alive as they are to keep us alive."
She then turned to her commlink and read the message, then frowned. "I can see why you're worried. I would be too."
-
"That veil seems to have been parted somewhat already. However Mrs. Johnson”, Francis made a point of stressing the nom de guerre, ”Slappendash is quite right that this anonymity has a very real purpose and we should try to keep to it. I understand that this is highly personal for you, but it is very important to try and be somewhat... clinical about this process."
”Now regarding Ellis. What further information can you offer us?” At this point Francis starts counting on his fingers with each question asked. ”Did he have a preferred drug of choice? Do you know whereabouts he usually spent his time? Dealers? People he might owe money to? Having a starting point to our search would be highly advantageous.”
-
She smiled. "So, as far as you're concerned, that was Nitty that just walked out the door. Because while you are being lied to partially, those lies are as much to keep you alive as they are to keep us alive."
She seems a little embarrassed, looking down at her shoes a bit while you talk, but she nods when you're finished, adding "Yes of course, you're right. I'm so sorry. Thank you for your patience, miss. I mean, Wiz, Slap." in a quite sheepish tone.
”Now regarding Ellis. What further information can you offer us?” At this point Francis starts counting on his fingers with each question asked. ”Did he have a preferred drug of choice? Do you know whereabouts he usually spent his time? Dealers? People he might owe money to? Having a starting point to our search would be highly advantageous.”
She listens to all your questions carefully before answering.
"With Ellis, cram was always the thing, but really? It was whatever he could get his hands on. Wasn't his fault, he had a predisposition for the stuff since he was a baby. Genetic abnormality was what the doctors had said. As for whereabouts, dealers, or people he may owe money to? Well, he owes money to everyone he knows, so he can't really maintain a steady drug dealer or a steady place to hangout. Ellis spent his whole life on the run. It was my fault. We spent so much of his childhood running, he got good at it."
She takes another deep breath and exhales from her mouth again, flopping back down on the chair and putting her head in her hands for a moment. After a beat, she comes back up and leans back in the seat before continuing.
"The last time I saw my son, it was two weeks ago. He had been living with me for the past month, and really seemed like he was going to get clean this time. Then, one morning, I woke up, and he had cleaned out my entire pharmaceutical bin. Next I heard from his was the text today."
-
Hands in his pockets, Samuel listens as Ellis' story is laid out. A wild cramhead hunt? That's damn sure not what I was expecting. After hearing that Ellis robbed Jill, he lets out a derisive grunt and shakes his head.
Taking his hands out of his pockets he moves a couple of steps closer to Jill, crossing his arms across his chest. "Ok, so I get you want to find your son. What I don't get so far is why you're prepared to hand out five paydays when you could get questions asked with one or two." Realizing he has fallen into an aggressive posture, he leans back and drops his arms to his sides. "What are you expecting here? I count too many heads for something this basic."
-
Taking his hands out of his pockets he moves a couple of steps closer to Jill, crossing his arms across his chess. "Ok, so I get you want to find your son. What I don't get so far is why you're prepared to hand out five paydays when you could get questions asked with one or two." Realizing he has fallen into an aggressive posture, he leans back and drops his arms to his sides and looking at One. "What are you expecting here? I count too many heads in here for something this basic."
"Ok, everything's on the table now. Here we go. In my younger days, I was an accredited, respectable doc, working for EVO. Born into it, y'know? Had myself a happy little life with a nice place to live and a good enough man to share it with. Ellis was my only child, so when he was born, I made sure to get him every test, every checkup, every examination I could. I wanted to make sure he'd have the chance to have the best things in life. Well, one of these tests showed that, due to a unique genetic abnormailty, he had a strange reaction to most addictive substances, but cram especially. They told me to make sure to keep an eye on him during his formative pre-teen years, as any drug use could lead to terrifying long term addiction for him."
She takes another long pause before interrupting herself. "Jesus frakkin CHRIST, i need a beer! One of yall mind grabbing me one? Thank you so much." After taking a long chug from it, she stifles a small breathy burp with one hand before continuing.
"I was only 22 and I hadn't had but 2 hours sleep in the 5 days since I'd given birth when they brought me the papers to sign. They were offering me a sizable bonus in exchange for the legal rights over Ellis's remains upon his death. I signed them. And it wasn't just because i was young and foolish and wanted the money, but also because i truly trusted them at the time. You have no idea what being raised and brainwashed by their propaganda for your entire life does to you.
Anyway, it was only about 6 years later, when Ellis first started going to school that strange things started happening. In a nutshell, without getting into details, I slowly began to believe that people were trying to kill my son. And gradually, i came to believe that those people were the very people I'd signed that contract with. The bastards weren't content to wait until he died on his own. They wanted to collect on their investment early. So, i fled. I packed up everything I had, took my son and we ran, moving from city to city for the course of his whole childhood.
The point is, if my son is dead, and he's been picked up by the city, he WILL be identified and EVO's people WILL come to pick him up. Not only do I shudder to think about the advances in addictive drug manufacture they can achieve after studying him, but I simply can't stand the thought of what they'll do to him if they get him. But he'll be hard to get back from them and that's where the five paychecks come in. If my boy is still out there and all you have to do is ask a few questions, then fuck it. Easy payday for you, right? But if he's not..."
She looks each one of you in the eye before finishing.
"I want my boy back at home with his mother, even if's he's only ashes in an urn. Can you do this for me?"
The brief emotional moment is shattered when the door swings open and One bursts back into the room, full of energy and nursing a black eye and a busted lip. "WHADDUP YALL?! Everything still poppin' up in here?"
-
A corp trying to tighten the grip a little bit more. Color me fuckin' shocked. Kid doesn't seem worth the effort but hitting EVO's checkbook a little is a hell of a bonus. Samuel looks at One as he comes back in. I need to get that fool a padded mask for his birthday, he's never going to learn to duck.
He crouches down and rests his left elbow on his knee. "This is some shit, One. Here's hoping for the easy payday, but we all know how that usually works out." He looks back to Jill. "I can't make promises about how it'll turn out, but I can promise I'll look. How long have you been in the city? Junkies have to have somebody already in the loop to make connections, any names he's mentioned before? Damn near as many drug spots as there are city blocks, we could spend a month and find nothing without some trail to follow."
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He looks back to Jill. "I can't make promises about how it'll turn out, but I can promise I'll look. How long have you been in the city? Junkies have to have somebody already in the loop to make connections, any names he's mentioned before? Damn near as many drug spots as there are city blocks, we could spend a month and find nothing without some trail to follow."
"We've been in jacksonville for about 15 years now. I figured it was a podunk enough place that maybe they wouldn't look for us here. It worked too, but as soon as a coroner runs his bio data through the database, it's gonna come up. The only real starting place i can give you, and it aint much, is a rumor i heard. Something about a huge drug party going on off emerson highway about 2 weeks ago. Apparently, some junkie hit the payday and wanted to share his good fortune with others. That sounds like the kind of thing Ellis would do and it matches the timeline. Speaking of timelines, Here's something you might not know about morgue procedure, They don't do shit on the weekends. There's very little chance that he'll be shipped out before monday morning, so I suppose that's the closest thing to a deadline you've got."
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As soon as Jill mentions one of the big ten Francis just manages to check himself before giving away how much he doesn’t like the sound of that. Fraggin’ corps, fraggin’ corpzombies, fraggin’ One. This could turn all sorts of bad real fast.
Francis waits for Samuel to get his response before asking his next question. "Have you already contacted the local hospitals to see if he turned up there? If not we can cover that for you, we just need the most recent pic you got of him, a physical description and his SIN. Actually, even if you’ve already checked the hospitals those are things that we could use anyway. I'm assuming that Ellis had a valid SIN during his most recent stay with you."
Monday morning deadline, not much time with this faint a trail.
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Francis waits for Samuel to get his response before asking his next question. "Have you already contacted the local hospitals to see if he turned up there? If not we can cover that for you, we just need the most recent pic you got of him, a physical description and his SIN. Actually, even if you’ve already checked the hospitals those are things that we could use anyway. I'm assuming that Ellis had a valid SIN during his most recent stay with you."
One pipes up before she has a chance to answer. "Word, we hit up all the local spots already and spread some jing round that way, too. If he turns up at a hospital, I'll get a call and then i guess it's just a matter of yall mugs gettin in to that spot, wiz? I'm finda' send yall each a file with all that other mess you said, physical description, pics, video, voice, whatnot. But no SIN. Burned years ago."
A few moments later, you each receive a file containing all the aforementioned info.
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One pipes up before she has a chance to answer. "Word, we hit up all the local spots already and spread some jing round that way, too. If he turns up at a hospital, I'll get a call and then i guess it's just a matter of yall mugs gettin in to that spot, wiz? I'm finda' send yall each a file with all that other mess you said, physical description, pics, video, voice, whatnot. But no SIN. Burned years ago."
A few moments later, you each receive a file containing all the aforementioned info.
"He wasn't using a fake one while he was staying at home? Even if he's sold it off for drugs it might help to find out who he sold it to. Am I missing something here?
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One pipes up before she has a chance to answer. "Word, we hit up all the local spots already and spread some jing round that way, too. If he turns up at a hospital, I'll get a call and then i guess it's just a matter of yall mugs gettin in to that spot, wiz? I'm finda' send yall each a file with all that other mess you said, physical description, pics, video, voice, whatnot. But no SIN. Burned years ago."
A few moments later, you each receive a file containing all the aforementioned info.
"He wasn't using a fake one while he was staying at home? Even if he's sold it off for drugs it might help to find out who he sold it to. Am I missing something here?
"Naw, you aint missin any more than the rest of us. Maybe he did have a fake, maybe not, but if he did it wan sum he shared with us."
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Samuel rests his chin in his hand. "Two weeks is damn near a lifetime ago in junkie terms. But if that's all we've got, it's what we've got. It's enough to start turning over a few rocks. You asked around any about the party yet, One?"
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Slap remained quiet, though she had to nod at the mention of being brainwashed by propaganda.
I know perfectly well. You grow up thinking the corp is good and decent and kind. That it has your best interests at heart and is looking out for you every single second. Then something happens when you're a liability or just in the way and you're garbage. Called me a Slap And Dash... evil fuckers, every last one.
She shook her head. I can't let corps get him.
"I'm still in. Corp fuckers can go slot themselves if they think this shit's acceptable."
She then looks Jill in the eyes. "I will do what I can to get your son back. Even if all I can bring back are ashes from a destroyed transport. He is not going to a corp lab."
She then looked to One. "I'm glad you called me in on this. I wouldn't turn this down."
Her eyes then turned to Samuel. "Think he's with a gang? If he's still getting supplied, finding out who may lead straight to him. If we spot him, I can send in drones to spy and follow."
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Samuel rests his chin in his hand. "Two weeks is damn near a lifetime ago in junkie terms. But if that's all we've got, it's what we've got. It's enough to start turning over a few rocks. You asked around any about the party yet, One?"
"Naw, first I'm hearin a that."
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Her eyes then turned to Samuel. "Think he's with a gang? If he's still getting supplied, finding out who may lead straight to him. If we spot him, I can send in drones to spy and follow."
Standing back up, Samuel shrugs. "Could be. Could be he just knows some people." He paces around for a moment before coming to a stop near the door and turning to face everyone. "Well chums, seems we have two places to start. Morgue and party. Morgue we will want to check on through the weekend, not being there today means drek all. Might be a day or two before somebody bothers to bring his body in." Catching a glimpse of Jill's face, he mutters sorry before moving on. "Far as the party, we start at the beginning. Find out exactly where, what's nearby, any security cameras on the street with a view. We find one person we know was there and we got a trail to start...sniffing at." He instinctively balls his hands into fists and squeezes until those close enough hear a few knuckles popping.
"Didn't plan on spending my weekend knee deep in junkies but I got no better place to start. Unless one of you has a better idea..." He glances around at the people gathered in the room.
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Her eyes then turned to Samuel. "Think he's with a gang? If he's still getting supplied, finding out who may lead straight to him. If we spot him, I can send in drones to spy and follow."
Standing back up, Samuel shrugs. "Could be. Could be he just knows some people." He paces around for a moment before coming to a stop near the door and turning to face everyone. "Well chums, seems we have two places to start. Morgue and party. Morgue we will want to check on through the weekend, not being there today means drek all. Might be a day or two before somebody bothers to bring his body in." Catching a glimpse of Jill's face, he mutters sorry before moving on. "Far as the party, we start at the beginning. Find out exactly where, what's nearby, any security cameras on the street with a view. We find one person we know was there and we got a trail to start...sniffing at." He instinctively balls his hands into fists and squeezes until those close enough hear a few knuckles popping.
"Didn't plan on spending my weekend knee deep in junkies but I got no better place to start. Unless one of you has a better idea..." He glances around at the people gathered in the room.
Isaac broke his silence, looking over at Samuel, Sounds solid to me boss, I'd rather start with the latter option. he looked around the room at his fellow soon-to-be compatriots and smiled.
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Her eyes then turned to Samuel. "Think he's with a gang? If he's still getting supplied, finding out who may lead straight to him. If we spot him, I can send in drones to spy and follow."
Standing back up, Samuel shrugs. "Could be. Could be he just knows some people." He paces around for a moment before coming to a stop near the door and turning to face everyone. "Well chums, seems we have two places to start. Morgue and party. Morgue we will want to check on through the weekend, not being there today means drek all. Might be a day or two before somebody bothers to bring his body in." Catching a glimpse of Jill's face, he mutters sorry before moving on. "Far as the party, we start at the beginning. Find out exactly where, what's nearby, any security cameras on the street with a view. We find one person we know was there and we got a trail to start...sniffing at." He instinctively balls his hands into fists and squeezes until those close enough hear a few knuckles popping.
"Didn't plan on spending my weekend knee deep in junkies but I got no better place to start. Unless one of you has a better idea..." He glances around at the people gathered in the room.
Isaac broke his silence, looking over at Samuel, Sounds solid to me boss, I'd rather start with the latter option. he looked around the room at his fellow soon-to-be compatriots and smiled.
Slap nodded her agreement. "Better that way. And we can use drones to interrogate if we need to." She left out her thought of, Because, really, staring down the barrel of an assault rifle attached to a combat drone should make anyone talk.
-
"One, how sure are you about your contacts at the hospitals? Can we concentrate on the party angle and trust you to handle the other one?" Francis maintains eye contact with Sam trying to gauge if he is on point again after the Nitty fiasco.
"I like where you’re at… Sambo(?), the party is our best lead. As far as interrogations go I have yet to meet the junkie who doesn’t want to talk when I ask nicely, although extra incentive never hurts." The last is said with a grin to Slappendash. Francis then straightens himself and gets ready to leave. "Well, I think we’re just about done here folks. One, is there anyplace where we can speak in relative privacy amongst ourselves? The less you two know the better."
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"One, how sure are you about your contacts at the hospitals? Can we concentrate on the party angle and trust you to handle the other one?" Francis maintains eye contact with Sam trying to gauge if he is on point again after the Nitty fiasco.
One seems distracted. He was hoping the meet would go quicker, and he could head back upstairs for this battle. You can see him subtly mouthing the words to rhymes he intends to use and nodding his head to the bass from upstairs, obviously not in time with the pop-yodeling playing in this room. He's eager to wrap this whole thing up and be on with his day. It's kinda disrespectful and more than a little unprofessional. On top of everything else, he seems positively giddy about how the meeting went, despite having been made to look the fool and having the crap kicked out of him.
"Yo, i paid em and told em there'd be more if I got a call. Told em there's be more than THAT if i got the call before anyone else."
"Well, I think we’re just about done here folks. One, is there anyplace where we can speak in relative privacy amongst ourselves? The less you two know the better."
They both nod in agreement before One says, "Seem like that'd be on yall buncha hardcore ass Jack City locals, right?" with his big goofy grin and what you swear is almost a wink. Jill stands up from the chair, kills the music, and addresses the group one last time. "Thank you all for doing this. Contact me with any new developments, please?" She then walks to the door, opens it slowly, and leaves, looking frail enough that the rain outside might wash her away. One moves to the still open door, leans his right hand on it and says, "So, we all good?"
-
Francis grits his teeth when Sam keeps trying to fluff them up as some kind of superstars, What the fuck is his game? This is getting ridiculous. He then nods to Dr. Marques as she leaves.
"Yeah, One. We’re good." Francis cocks his eyebrow to the rest of Sam’s “Prime nova runners” and then leaves, as he walks past Sam he claps him on the shoulder wishing him good luck in the nights battle but it doesn’t take great insight to figure out there is no real conviction behind his words.
When Francis gets outside he turns to the rest of the group and asks, "Any of you know of a place where we can talk, doesn’t need to be fancy. Booths with tall dividers can do wonders if people take care to keep their voices down."
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Samuel follows Francis out of the room, not bothering to say anything to One. Really hope these guys can handle their shit. Going into Krubb turf on a Friday night asking about drug parties, what could go wrong? Just fuckin' everything, that's all.
"Any of you know of a place where we can talk, doesn’t need to be fancy. Booths with tall dividers can do wonders if people take care to keep their voices down."[/color]
"Not really my area over here, chum. You all have rides? Not leaving my bike here and I damn sure can't take the three of you with me."
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[Thursday 14. July 23:47 | Outside the Cave | North Downtown, Jacksonville]
"I’ve got wheels, got room for one more if needed. Dash, I’m assuming you’ve your own transport?"
"Hell, now that I think about it I do know bout a place where we could have a little chat, nothing that would satisfy the secret service but people tend to mind their own business and it fairly close by. Place is called The Milk Bar, it’s at [address tbd]. Any objections to just going there?"
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[Thursday 14. July 23:47 | Outside the Cave | North Downtown, Jacksonville]
"I’ve got wheels, got room for one more if needed. Dash, I’m assuming you’ve your own transport?"
"Hell, now that I think about it I do know bout a place where we could have a little chat, nothing that would satisfy the secret service but people tend to mind their own business and it fairly close by. Place is called The Milk Bar, it’s at [address tbd]. Any objections to just going there?"
Isaac raised his hand at the offer, I'll take you up on that seat, I'm a bit short on transportation at the moment. All the information that was brought up in the conversation was spinning in his mind, trying to pick it apart and analyze it all. My first real job, huh? None of that small time shit.
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[The Milk Bar, Jacksonville Florida, July 14, 11:52pm]
This place is just the way Francis said it would be; packed full of college kids, mostly elves and humans, drinking expensive drinks and trying to look like their expensive clothes are on accident. The music is bland and whiney, and you suspect it matches the personalities of most of the patrons. The four of you have found a table near the front. A small crowd of club-goers is gathered around 2 vintage pinball machines about 20 feet away, keeping most of the attention away from the group. Not only that, but the ringing bells and sounding of sirens from the ancient machines combined with the music and humm of conversation is more than enough to thwart any eavesdroppers. Should be a good place to talk.
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Francis settles in his seat and just to be on the safe side he puts his buzzbox on the table. "OK, first thing we need to decide, do we trust One to hold down the fort on the morgue front? I don’t like having to ask that question but he has been acting even more bizarrely tonight than usual. On a related matter, please don’t pick up that drek ass nick One tried to stick me with. For now, among ourselves, you can call me Francis."
Francis inhales the aroma of his rum, then takes a sip before continuing, "Anyone have any people who might have been at that party? Or a guy that knows a guy. Personally most of my contacts are on the other end of the income bracket but I know some folks in the Star who might’ve heard something about this party, worth a shot at least."
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@Francis
>> Incoming Message
>> Contact: Dr M
>> Message: Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for doing this for me one more time. I never would have asked you to get involved with something like this, but now that you are, I feel better already. I'm not really sure how to put this, but there's one or two more things I didn't wanna get into in front of One.
First, he shortchanged you on the money. It was supposed to be five a head, not four. The other deal was for 3.5 and the medical care, not three. I guess he thinks he's going to skim off the top or something, and with some strangers off the street, I might not have cared, but with you... I just wouldn't feel right about it. I'll make good on the intended offer for you and Slackjaw, as well as any of the other team you decide to tell.
Second, there's one more member of the team. A man named Gideon I hired about a week ago to try and find Ellis. It wasn't as urgent as it is now, so he's been taking his time. I've given him your commcode and told him to meet up with you four tonight, so don't be alarmed when he contacts you.
Again, Thank you so much for doing this.
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Gideon reads over the docs message again as he enjoys his beer.
Nice of the good doctor to get some backup, but I guess that means it's time to step it up a notch. Still an hour and a half before the meet, and I don't think it's a good idea to go alone. Time to meet the neighbors...
Shithead, I have no idea where you parked, so be it front in 5. Seraphim, get some altitude, we're leaving soon and I'd like eyes on.
Good evening Professor...
A mutual employer put me in touch with you. I've got a meeting at 1:30 at Iggy Wanna's where Or'Zet would be an asset. Interested?
Flicking off payment, he stands up and straightens his coat so the slot runs center for riding and makes his way out side waiting for the familiar rumble signaling the arrival of his ride. He checks the load on the case on the side of the motorcycle for new tamper marks.
Nah, you drive, I've been drinking... Anywhere, as long as we're moving...
Gideon answered the pilot programs requests subvocally while thinking to himself.
How bad could it be... I'm sure everyone will be great...
Fuck.
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@Francis
About 2 minutes after the last message, you get another, this one from a "Gideon"
Good evening Professor...
A mutual employer put me in touch with you. I've got a meeting at 1:30 at Iggy Wanna's where Or'Zet would be an asset. Interested?
Iggy Wanna's is one of a million crappy corporate sports bars near the beach. Not a place you'd think Or'Zet would be a necessity.