Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: StarManta on <09-21-11/1000:42>
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Monday February 15, 2072; 10:00, Seattle, UCAS
On a chilly February morning, seven people around the city received the same message. Seven people who appeared to be connected by nothing, no one person, not a unifying factor, save one: they all hailed from the underworld of Seattle.
The message might not have stood out from all the spam, but each of the seven was on the lookout for a job - for anyone calling themselves Mr. Johnson. None of them had had a team to fall back on for a little while, and without a team it was difficult to find work in the shadows.
When the messenger's face appeared in AR, it was almost laughable. The man in the message was wearing a latex mask, but it was so poorly made that it would be hard to mistake it for a face at any angle, let alone a convincing disguise. Most of those seeing the message had been in the shadows long enough to recognize that that, in itself, was a message - a message that this person intended to stay anonymous.
"I'm sure you are wondering who I am," the mask began, "But that is a habit you should break now. Come up with a name to give me if it makes you feel better, but I will not give you one.
"I know that you've not had a lot in the way of work lately. I'm aware of your talents, and I believe they're being wasted. I'd like you to meet your new team at the Edge at 5:00 this afternoon. This will come with an opportunity for profit, so be sure to act professionally."
He lowered his face, and even through the mask his deathly glare was apparent.
"And lest there is any ambiguity, no, you do not have an option."
Besides the "what you're doing that day" sort of stuff, everyone give me an Etiquette test with your reply, as well, describing your manner and dress when you enter the restaurant. Leigh Stark gets +2 to this test for being an elf.
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Monday, February 15, 2072: 10:01, Beckman Mine/Luminous Coal Co., Carbonado, Puyallup district
Ironclad; PAN=Hidden SIN; Henry Fitzgerald, rt. 4
The message dinged in Ironclad's mail box, the annoying sound that he had set long ago waking him from a sound sleep. He rolled onto his side and grabbed for the commlink next to his, only succeeding on knocking it to the floor. It rolled under his bed, and he let out a loud groan that could only say, "For fucks sake, why am I awake!"
Ironclad sat up in his bed, his eyes slowly coming into focus. He blinked a couple of times to focus the AR displays that showed up in his vision. His morning cup of coffee had been brewed... three hours ago (Damn it, I've gotta get that thing fixed.) and a message was waiting in his inbox.
A voice sounded out, "Good morning. How did you sleep?" moments before an AR window opened, showing the smiling face of Sam.
"Not bad, Sam, not bad. How was the evening? Uneventful, I assume?" He popped open the message and started reading it.
"There were a couple of vagrants that passed by, but no one of real note."
"Alright, thanks for keeping an eye out." Ironclad furrowed his brow.
"Something wrong?"
"Looks like I've got a job, but the bastard's being really pushy. Threatening, even. Oh well, I'd rather not have someone come knocking, so I'll have to be going." He rubbed his chin and looked around again, actually seeing the room for the first time. "Well, I've got a bit of time to kill before I have to go. Anything interesting online today, Sam?"
Ironclad laid back down and dropped into VR.
Monday, February 15, 2072: 4:52 pm, Outside the Edge, Ninth Ave & Denny Way, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN=Active SIN; Henry Fitzgerald, rt. 4
Ironclad tugged at the slightly wrinkled sleeves of the button down shirt he now wore. The feel of the fabric always bugged him. It was too soft, too yielding, and too thin. Same with the slacks he now wore. God, do I hate these clothes. He brushed a bit of the ash that clung to him that he had missed earlier.
Ironclad nervously tapped one of his capped tusks and looked down the road at the lot that he had parked his cycle, sighed, and walked into the restaurant.
I hope this kook already has a table reserved for us or is gonna have someone show us to the business site inside. It'd be kinda wierd to still be wearin' that mask inside this kinda establishment.
Charisma(3) + Etiquette(2)= (5d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3191971/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 10:00, International District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb; PAN=Passive broadcasting SIN rt. 4 Ada Byron. (Meta Link in passive mode slaved to "Major" commlink in Hidden mode)
Walking down the street, Eliza demeanor has not been affected the slightest while she processed the message. Even though it was a little disturbing that it seemed threatening, and that, by the time being, Eliza had no idea how the man in the mask had access to her commcode, she just continued strolling down the street with her shopping bag in hand. The way the message was delivered, there was no need to answer it yet.
The rest of the day, she wondered if it would be interesting to call some back-up to monitor her well-being during the meeting, but eventually she decided not to. Chances are that she was being monitored, and if that is really a job offer, this would sign her as a "not-confident person". And, after all, the meeting place was close to home and a place not suited for an ambush.
So she prepared herself for the meeting: The Edge being a fine restaurant (and an elven run one), there was a need to fit into it's standards. The meeting would be at early evening, so a fine dress would be appropriate. It's going to be a little cold, but a good first impression is worth the assumed discomfort, and the clothing would allow for some flexibility should it be needed. The black Moonsilver dress was in order. A light make-up (both the actual - real - one and the AR one) is also required; a measure of good taste, but not overly outstanding. She left her hair in the most natural look she found possible - the intricate braids her mother favored would be seen as a sign of good ancestry at The Edge, but it never really was among Eliza's preferences.
No jewelry this time; she does not have even one appropriate enough to use with the prepared garment. The only other visible accessory that accompanies the woman are her glasses.
Monday February 15, 2072; 17:00, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb; PAN=Passive broadcasting SIN rt. 4 Ada Byron. (Meta Link in passive mode slaved to "Major" commlink in Hidden mode)
At five in the afternoon, the woman porting Ada Byron's SIN enters the appointed restaurant with a confident and graceful gait. With a soft voice she salutes the receptionist in Sperethiel, waiting to see if she is going to be direct to some place or asked something.
5 (Charisma) + Etiquette 4 = 9 dice = 1 hit, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192049/)
I'm not adding Vocal Range Enhancer bonus, neither Empathy software (since I'm thinking the Etiquette test in question is more about the way one behaves himself in arriving at the place than any conversation, and there's no "other social responses" to evaluate at the time) . If some of this is requested, I may roll it again (or just the extra dices)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 10:00, Redmond Barrens, Dirk's Rooftop Apartment
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Johnny Renter Rt.1
Dirk had been up since dawn, and was working on his latest woodworking project when his commlink sent an image to his cybereye imagelink. Message waiting.
He opened the message and scanned its contents. Shit. This didn't sound like the kind of job that he was used to. The Edge? That fancy elven restaurant downtown? The only reason he ever went downtown was to hit up the Ork Underground, either to buy from the local underground market or to sell loot to the Trogs. There was just too much security for his taste. He hated to use his best fake SIN just for a meet with a Johnson, but it sounded like he didn't have a choice on this one. The fact that he was hiding his face didn't bother him in the slightest, as Dirk's own reconstructed face and permanently mounted sunglasses didn't exactly allow him to be holier-than-thou.
Dirk put down the oversized wooden baton he was tweaking and decided that getting an early lunch and then some sleep would be a good idea. Sometimes these things can take all night, and the last thing he was going to do was let a Johnson hear his stomach rumble or god forbid see him yawn. That would just be unprofessional. He needed to be frosty tonight.
Monday February 15, 2072; 16:00, Ork Underground, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Johnny Renter Rt.1
Dirk stashes the cases containing his heavy assault crossbow and his sniper bow in a high-security locker in the Ork Underground near the entrance to The Edge. While he was on the way via the dreadfully slow (and dirty) public transportation, he ordered 50 nuyen worth of pizzas for the Trogs. This was their standard arrangement, which served two purposes. First, it let the Trogs know that he would be in the area tonight and might want their assistance, and second, it helped keep his stuff safe. Nobody messes with the Trogs in the Underground, and that includes their chummers.
(subtracts 50 nuyen from starting money account)
Ork Underground area knowledge (7d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192059/)
Monday February 15, 2072; 16:55, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Broadcasting SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.3
etiquette test (4d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192044/)
Dirk arrives at The Edge right before the meet. He has sent his six Dragonfly drones out to do surveillance on the area, and has them running Covert Ops and Adaptability. He has a window open in his image link that is directly linking him to their optical sensors. Dirk himself is running Stealth and Encrypt to keep both the drones and his connection to them hidden.
Dirk is wearing his stylish matte black armored duster, buttoned to the top. He hopes it comes across as crisp and professional, like someone who is avoiding a fight, and not like the apparel of a street urchin, who might be specifically looking for a fight. Dirk is armed with both his heavy baton and his ceramic pistol crossbow, loaded with stick-n-shock ammo. He isn't enthused about meeting an anonymous "somebody" who is asking for his services while threatening him at the same time. Makes him very nervous. He's certainly made his fair share of enemies over the years, and there are probably a whole bunch that he doesn't even know about yet.
He'll hand over his heavy baton at the security checkpoint if they ask for it, but will only give up the ceramic pistol crossbow in the concealed back holster if they find it on the scanner and ask for it.
He's trying to look cold and frosty, as professional as he can, like a corpsec bodyguard from the trideo.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 10:00, Everette, Seattle, UCAS
Jackson Hart; PAN=Passive broadcasting SIN rt. 4 Roan Linth
Jackson blinked at the message, swerving between cars as he drove an early morning package, a legal one. "Is this guy for real? No options my ass." he growled, Weaving between some more vehicles, he decided it probably would be for the best. The Triad liked their members being a little aggressive when persuing personal goals. Afterall, side business can profit the group as well as the individual. Setting an alarm for 3 PM, he remote assigned the extra possible deliveries to others at the home base. Glad he had just enough pull to do so, hoping this opportunity pays out. Pulling off the highway, he pulled into a small suburb, dropping the package off at a house before taking off for his next delivery.
Monday February 15, 2072; 4:59, Downtown, Elven District, Seattle, UCAS
Jackson Hart; PAN = Passive broadcasting SIN rt. 4 Roan Linth
The delivery boy soon pulled up on his Contrail, parking. He showed up early to the meet to scope the place a bit, doing his best to get in early, wondering where the meeting spot was going to be inside. He was wearing his nicer armored clothes over his armored jacket, having left his shock gloves at home.
Etiquette, using Influence Group (3) + Charisma (5) (8d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192253/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 10:00, Renton, J's Apartment.
Conrad Johnson; PAN=Passive SIN: Conrad Johnson, Real.
A mask? Really? What is he a comic book villain? Or is Leather face hiring me for my first run?
J wasn't impressed, if he wanted anonymity why not just go voice only?
"She shadows are weird.. Soycaf, Black." Getting dressed he pondered his first run, he didn't want to be doing this but he had no choice.
"I'd better get some back up."
He waved his hand for a few seconds, willing forces to gather.
Summoning F.4 Spirit of Man: Summoning 3 + Magic 5 (8d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192349/)
Resist: Force 4 (4d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192350/)
Buy hits on drain.
F.4 Spirit of Man w/ Psychokinesis 1 Service.
"Ah Hatchi, it's you again." The man in front of J had features twisting into many many faces.
"This is not your place of work. What is going on Conrad?"
Monday February 15, 2072; 16:55, Downtown, Elven District.
Conrad Johnson; PAN=Passive SIN: Arthur Jones, R. 3.
Explaining had been awkward.
Standing in front of Edge wearing this suit over his Armour was awkward.
Becoming a runner was awkward.
At least even with no weapons he wasn't unarmed.
He entered slowly and turned to the greeter, "I'm meeting someone at 17:00?"
How the hell does his work?
Etiquette (Cha-1) (4d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3192331/)
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Monday, Febuary 15, 2072; 12:00. Apartment of 'Jenna McIntyre', Auburn District.
Dancer; PAN=Hidden; SIN Leigh Stark
Note: Using bold for speech, italic dialogue for 'under the breath' or subvocal speech, straight italics for thoughts, purple for comlink IMs and such.
A tired moan escapes the youthful-appearing elf as she rolls over in the king-sized bed, her lithe form hidden by a cream coloured silk sheet. Blindly, the elf reaches for an old-fashion (circa 2020) style alarm-clock blaring music loudly: Dragonfire Run, one of the new hit-singles by Sylkwurm. Abruptly, the sound is cut off as she finds the 'snooze' button, though the silence is broken by another moan as she slowly pushes herself upright.
"Too fraging early." she swears, rubbing her face a little as she eyes the clock with disgust.
'12:00p' it replies, silently.
Sounds from beyond the room, however, draw a tired smile to the elf, her thoughts briefly darting back to the previous evening. With a little laugh she shakes her head, then turns on the bed, swinging her legs around so that she can settle them on the hardwood floor.
Arching, the elf stretches, arms over her head first, then pressing at the small of her back, until a soft 'crick' could be heard. Another moan, this one of satisfaction, as she reaches for a small metal container on the night-table.
Opening it reveals a half-dozen small green tablets, one of which is fished out and popped into an open mouth. The elf smiles, eyes closing... after a moment, a shiver of delight rolls through her slender form.
"Leigh! Breakfast is ready!" comes a female voice from beyond the open door, which draws a little giggles from the elf. Rubbing her face once more, she stands, reaching for a robe.
"I'll be down in a few, Ter... just going to take a quick shower." she calls back, turning towards the large bathroom. Ter, short for Terista; confidante, friend and lover, contact. Employer. How strange relationships mix these days, the elf muses as she steps into the shower.
Monday, Febuary 15, 2072; 13:05. Auburn district.
Dancer; PAN=Passive; SIN Leigh Stark
An hour later, hands tucked into the pockets of her custom-fitted Mortimer of London greatcoat and head ducked against the light drizzle, Leigh heads towards the nearby monorail station, intent on heading into the Downtown core. As she walks, she takes a quick mental checklist of her on-person gear: Fichetti Security 600 tucked into a concealed holster, two clips of extra ammunition in hidden internal pockets, combat knife also in a concealed sheath, and of course her comlink, transmitting to wireless contacts.
A grim look as she briefly goes through the news-cast in one window, while checking the status of her Everquest V guild in another window. A third window with her email, sorted by sender rather than date, sits just at the edge of her vision.
"Mm... Knight Errant has the Olympic contract.. that should make Morgan happy... and I better let Daniel know I'm going to want some event tickets.."[/i] she murmurs to herself after deleteing the message, then giving her head a shake at the next link. "And I think I better sell my Screamers season tickets.." the elf adds with a low growl of disgust.
Stopping at a ticket terminal, the graceful elf woman pauses in her reading to purchase a ticket via her comlink, a day pass specifically - though she owns a vehicle, she prefers not to drive it in this weather. With a sigh, she ducks into the station proper, out of the rain, and moves to stand near a group of businessmen on lunch, waiting for the next monorail.
"Mm.. whats this... a new presidential candidate?"[/i] the elf then murmurs almost subvocally, eyeing this story curiously. "Mark Hanson... I'm not familiar with him. I'll have to ask around."[/i] Leigh then finishes, with a little nod. Glancing up, she frowns as she catches a tall human male staring at her, then quickly looking away. "Hope he's a fan." she sighs, half-turning away.. yet keeping her awareness open, in case he wasn't.
Once on the monorail, and settled into one of the uncomfortable, worn plastic seats that fill the individule cars, Leigh accesses her email. Mostly spam, as usual, along with an offer from a 'client' to entertain at a party. That one gets shunted into a seperate email box for later reply. Checking the time, and realizing she's running late, the elf then remits a quick message of her own.
-- Lyon, running late... don't ask. Long night. Where are we all meeting today?-- before settling back for the ride.
A new message, however, pops almost immediately. The man in the mask, with his offer. And threats. Leigh curses softly to herself... could this be some sort of trap? the elf thinks to herself, frowning. I might be the black sheep, but I know my family wouldn't leave me to hang... Unfortunately, the message did not give her nearly enough information to trace or to pass on to one of her contacts for identification. Feeling a little trapped, yet at the same time curiously elated, the elf decides to make the meeting, implied threat or not.
Monday, Febuary 15, 2072; 16:55. The Edge, Downtown district
Dancer; PAN=Passive; SIN Leigh Stark
Gear On-hand: armored clothing, Fichetti Security 600 Light Pistol, comlink
Dressed to the nines in her best 'upper-management' style skirtsuit, Leigh walks smoothly into the resteraunt. Although she hadn't been here in at least a year, it remained as familiar as ever, as if it rarely if ever changed. Offering a smile to the hostess, she looks past her towards the interior of the restaraunt, then turns back to the elf.
"Table for two, please... I'll be meeting a friend shortly." she suggests politely to the hostess, figuring her own table will give her a chance to scope out the patrons.
Etiquette Test: 5 successes
Link to Dice roll
http://www.palladiumknights.com/forums/showthread.php?336-Generic-Dice-Roll-Thread&p=3451&posted=1#post3451
Note: invisible castle has been really buggy for me the last few weeks, so the dice roll was done on another PbP website I play on, called Palladium Knights
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:00, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Although it was hardly what one would call a regular occurence, more than one of those invited had been to The Edge at least once before. The marble facades of the building framed an immaculately maintained garden and a number of terrariums scattered throughout. Although the open atmosphere meant that most of the patrons could see most of the others from any given position - albeit slightly obscured by plant life - the vibration-neutralizing structure of the building and clever acoustics made audio eavesdropping nigh impossible, unless you were within a few feet of the table.
One by one, the strangers entered the restaurant to be judged by the wait staff. Only one of them truly passed the muster - the elven woman, of course - but at least the rest got by without anything worse than deriding sneers. In a bistro this picky about its clientele, that was accomplishment enough. Especially for the orks.
As Ironclad approached the front of the restaurant, the maitre'd glanced at him, then glanced just off to the side, viewing something in AR. Momentarily he snapped back to the real world. "We're expecting you. Right this way, sir." He was clearly less than thrilled about the lack of almond-shaped eyes and pointed ears on this customer, but such was the cost of doing business - sometimes, of course, you had to deal with the lower rungs to climb to the higher ones. The maitre'd led the ork to an empty table in the corner. Unlike every other table in the restaurant, this one was obscured by a considerable amount of plant life. Only one other table could even be seen from this vantage point, and the well-dressed elven couple there was just finishing a course of crème brûlée. This, though, was a table just for the ones they wanted to hide. Eight place settings were waiting there.
One by one, each stranger entered the restaurant and was led with varying degrees of acceptance to the same out-of-the-way table, each getting their respective "We've been expecting you" as they entered. All except Leigh and Sharp, that is, who each had their own respective tables elsewhere, along the path the others took to get to the table. Sharp kept one eye on the door for the duration of the meal, seeing nothing that seemed out of the ordinary comings and goings of elves on dates and business meetings. Ten minutes before five, however, the first clear sign of his 'team' arrived: an ork was an unusual sight here, and even with a button-down shirt and slacks he came off as being a little underdressed for a place like this.
Leigh wasn't picked out of the crowd by Sharp, and as she sat and pretended to read the menu, she also watched as the others passed her, one by one, on the way to the table. An ork in a black duster. A human in a suit that looked like its bulk was hiding a little more than chubbiness. A few minutes later, another human in another overly bulky suit. Was this her so-called 'team'? She probably wasn't the only one who'd felt more than a little threatened by the message. Finally, a girl in glasses and a black dress who could barely be called an adult passed by. Surely she was going to an unrelated table. Leigh glanced at the time: 5:00 PM.
At the table for eight, their messenger was yet to be seen. The first course - an anemic salad of field greens and sprouts, topped with some sort of vinaigrette even connoisseurs would have a hard time identifying for certain - was brought to the table a few minutes after five, just as the strangers were settling in and exchanging names (fake names, no doubt).
Talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes, and everybody roll a Perception test (any sense; if you have bonuses to different senses, note them and use whichever is higher)
lwcoyote, be sure to note when/whether Leigh joins the others at the table.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 10:00, Seattle, UCAS Downtown District
Sharp, PAN=Passive SIN; Nicholas Spikings, rt.4
Note: Using bold for speech, italic dialogue for 'under the breath' or subvocal speech, straight italics for thoughts, purple for comlink IMs and such.
Walking down the streets of downtown Seattle Talon is glancing into the storefront windows as he matches pace with a well dressed man with a attache case across the street. Suddenly in his peripherals a message pops up. Time to break off the shadowing practice...
Talon seamlessly moves through the door of a stuffer shack at the end of the block and brings the new message to the front of his AR while nonchalantly browsing for a late breakfast. Its a man, in a mask, with a threatening job offer. A new job with a twist. I don't like this, but it doesn't sound like I have a choice, yet. The Edge, higher end Elven club. Should be my kind of place. Talon left the stuffer shop, still hungry, but more curious. Jumped on the nearest public transport and continued his day. Need to stop by the apartment to pick up my nice clothes before the meeting. Thankfully its a restaurant, plenty of weapons to be had if needed.
Monday, Febuary 15, 2072; 16:00. The Edge, Downtown district
Sharp; PAN=Passive; SIN Nicholas Spikings, rt.4
Gear On-hand: comlink, Form-Fitting Full-Body Suit
Walked through the door with a beautiful elven woman on his arm. Nothing better to keep eyes off me than the best arm candy Stepping up to the hostess Talon leans in and whispers into her perfectly pointed ears, Hey there gorgeous, can I get a small table with a view of the door? There will be a nice tip in it for you The hostess nods, and takes Talon to his table for two. Talon pulls the chair out for his date, and sits in the chair facing the entrance. Now I will get a peek at this "team" as they enter.
Etiquette Test: Etiquette 2 + Cha(5) + Elf Bonus (2) (9d6.hits(5)=4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3193536/)
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Monday, Febuary 15, 2072; 5:00 PM. The Edge, International District.
Jackson; PAN=Passive; SIN Rt 4: Roan Linth
Sitting down, the smuggler nods at the others, not really yet striking up conversation, though he did glance at the menu, wondering how truely expensive this place was. "Anyone else ever eat here?" he asked politely. "Wondering what I should try. Not in this district that often." he said with a little grin. "I usually only pass through on my way to dinner."
perception (4d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3193544/)
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4 (Intuition) + 2 (Perception) + 1 (Hearing Enhancement) + 3 (Earbuds: Audio Enhancement 3) - 1 (AIPS 1) = dice pool of 9
9 dice = 4 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3193637/)
Monday, February 15, 5:00PM. The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb; PAN=Passive, broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt. 4
The girl in black was interested: things are peculiar, at least.
There is quite a long time since she came here last. Of course, then she had a legit SIN, and then she was well-treated. Well, she was with an elf at the time, and maybe that was the real deal. Probably they are not just very good not showing their prejudice when there is no other opinion they really care about at earshot. Even though she got quite angry with the maitre, there is truly no way to tell from her expression: she is still as adequate as possible.
The table to where she was directed was another surprise. No one seemed like the host she was expecting. But none of them also seemed like the people she usually worked with. She sits with them, cautious, but acting very resolute. She is the first to introduce herself.
"Hello, gentlemen. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like we will need to wait for our host." She is quite certain they all received the same (or at least a very similar) message. "You would please me a lot by addressing myself by the name of Ada. Even though I can see the profiles you are broadcasting, I think it would be nice with everyone could say how they prefer to be called for this little meeting, if this is not a problem." She browses through the AROs showing the public profiles of the ones who broadcast them, and connect to the place public node to have a look at the wine menu. A rapid thought cross her mind: I hope this freak with the mask really appears; paying this would be too debilitating with my current credit.
All the time, she keeps analyzing the behavior of everyone around her. There's no way to tell yet this is not a trap, and the best way of being secure is by having the greatest amount of information she can get.
As soon as the one broadcasting the SIN designed for one Roan Linth asks about the food, she answer:
"I have come here sometimes, at better times, when the waitress at least tried to be polite. Well, if you would care for my advice, this would depend mostly on your preferences for the main course. It's not truly a good place if you have a need for beef, but if you like some veggie food, their channa massala is fantastic."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:03, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.3
Dirk slowly scans the restaurant as he follows the hostess to the private table in the corner. An obviously drunk (and obviously fabulously wealthy) human sets down a wine bottle with a loud bang. Dirk's wired reflexes kick in, and he turns to identify the noise with inhuman speed. The drunk man nearly jumps out of his chair at the sudden glance. Great, this is going wonderfully so far.
Perception(2)+Int(4)+cybereyes(2)=8d visual (8d6.hits(5)=6) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3193678/)
He identifies a seat with its back to the wall, but with a view over the foliage of both the terrace and the main entrance. Sitting down, his matte black cybershades don't give much away of what he's looking at, but he gives the impression of someone who isn't looking at anything but still somehow manages to see everything. He nods at everyone at the table in turn, finally resting his apparent gaze at a spot in space between two people, as though he's preoccupied looking at something in AR. (Checks the status of his Dragonfly drones, seeing if anything out of the ordinary is happening outside)
After a few seconds he snaps his attention back to the present, slowly scanning the people at the table again with cold scrutiny. Finally, he speaks in a gravelly voice with a slight British accent: "Name's Blackjack. I assume we're all here under the same dubious circumstances."
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"Yeh.. Um, I'm J.... look..." He shuffled nearer and hunched slightly, lowering his voice. "Before Leather Face gets here I just want to be honest about something... I'm completely new at this... I'm very out of my element, I'm surprised I got that call at all."
This was all too posh for Conrad, it made him uneasy.
Visual Then Audio (Perception 3 + Int 4 + Enhancement 3) (10d6.hits(5)=2, 10d6.hits(5)=7) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3193835/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:03, The Edge, Downtown
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings
Smiling, laughing, and flirting with his date Talon continues to scan the room. Looks like five so far... Talon pours the last of the bottle of wine, trying to squeeze every drop out of it. This job better pay, this is going to burn a hole in my cred Talon leans back, crosses his right leg over his left and takes a sip while telling stories and listening to his date.
Perception 1 + Int (4) + Audio Enhancement (3) (8d6.hits(5)=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3194113/)
Perception 1 + Int(4) + Vision Enhancement(3) (8d6.hits(5)=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3194475/)
((Really trying to figure out this whole rolling system thing egh...))
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Monday, Febuary 15, 2072; 17:05. The Edge, Downtown district
Dancer; PAN=Passive; SIN switched to Jenna McIntyre
Gear On-hand: armored clothing, Fichetti Security 600 Light Pistol, comlink
Leight settles back into her chair, studying the menu with passing interest; Nothing new.. the same old cuisine.. she muses to herself, giving a slight headshake. It's not surprising that the reputation of the kitchen has taken a beating late.. the elf adds to herself, before setting the menu itself down.
Turning her attentions back to the spacious yet cunningly designed dining room, Leigh studies each of the newcomers briefly, enough to try and gather some measure of them. Mm.. none of them really seem to fit in... they're probably this 'team' that was mentioned in the message. But no sign of Mask. she ponders, before slowly standing. Briefly, she gives her skirt a careful brush, then moves towards the larger table, taking a slightly round-about route to see if there were any other eyes on her, or the gathering. Briefly, she checks each PAN at the table, enough to get a name, nothing more.
Finally, the elf gracefully eases up to the table, offering a cursory smile before settling into the seat next to the woman identified as Ada. "It seems like we are waiting on our host." Leigh comments, tone even. "I do hope he decides to leave the mask at home... there *is* a dress code here, afterall."
As the salad is brought to the table, Leigh politely thanked the server, then eyes the food rather dubiously. Although an elf, she prefered a more robust diet, one of the reasons why she did not frequent The Edge. Looking back up to the others, she smiles again, carefully yet genuinely. "I'm sorry if I missed introductions. I generally go by Dancer." the elf offers.
Leigh is about five foot and nine inches, and perhaps one hundred and thirty five pounds, giving her a figure that is a little more curvaceous than is normal for an elf. Wavey, light honey blonde hair tumbles down past the half way point of her back, framing her finely boned face, the bangs occasionally hiding her dark turquioise gaze. Currently, "Jenna" is clad in a sharp skirtsuit; navy blue blazer and skirt with gold buttons, a white blouse with the top two buttons undone and comfortable, conservative heels. A hint of makeup, enough to draw out her natural features and highlight her eyes. Lastly, a simple chain with a pendant can be seen just past the collar of the blouse. No rings or other jewelry is noted.
http://www.palladiumknights.com/forums/showthread.php?336-Generic-Dice-Roll-Thread&p=3453#post3453
Visual Perception -> 4 successes (damn, 3 sixes!)
other Perception -> 2 successes
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 5:05 pm, Inside The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
As he's shown to the reserved table, Ironclad takes a moment to nod and a small smile at the sneering elves he passes by. Ahh, the glares of racial contention and stupidy. So terribly wonderful. Always nice to mess with them a bit. Afterall, we orks can't all be idiotic savages who solve problems by bashing things. He grins to himself as he sits down at the secluded table.
Visual Perception Test:
Intuition 5 + Perception 1 + Vision Enhancement 3 = (9d6.hits(5)=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3194562/)
Matrix Perception Test:
Computer 1 + Analyze 6 + Technomancer 2 = (9d6.hits(5)=4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3194564/)
Looking around The Edge, Ironclad snorts. "By the looks of this place, I probably should've dressed up a bit more. Oh well, gotta live with it now." He chuckles to himself for a moment before looking at the people arrayed around the table with him. "Right. Next time, I wear a suit."
He watches the AR floating around the room, getting a feel of the lay of the electronic land, and genuinely admiring the rather fancy decor, when the first bit of speech from the others breaks him out of his reverie. Listening to the others, he waits for them to finish before chiming in. "Don't worry about it. We've all got our first time. Just don't do anything stupid." He gives J a big, almost stupid grin. "Helpful advice, eh?"
He turns back to face the group as a whole, "Well, since everyone's sharing, I go by Ironclad. And yes, I love my veggies. You learn to love 'em when you're growing 'em." He just grins to himself again and falls back into that soothing buzz of information flowing around him.
Ironclad was obviously the runt of the litter. He’s a bit shorter and significantly skinnier than most orks. Even so, he’s bigger than many humans. He’s keeps his head shaved bald, although his hair would be a thick mop of curly, sandy brown hair if he let it grow out. His eyes are grey, although the trait wasn’t carried by either of his parents. He’s got several piercings in his ears, two studs in the left side of his nose, a ring through his lower lip on the left, and both tusks are capped in metal. He's wearing a blue button down shrit and a pair of khacki slacks. Honestly, he kinda looks like a ganger trying to be all "business-like."
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 17:05, The Edge, Downtown district
Sharp; PAN = Passive; SIN = Nicholas Spikings rt.4
Talon watches as another person enters the secluded table. Ahh, I see another one. Cute, a little pretentious. An Elf naturally. I have this sneaking suspicion that we are being watched... I doubt our ring master will show his face until we are all at the table. Talon shrugs, closes out his bill with a sizable tip [Remove 150 nuyen for the wine and the tip]. Talon leans across the table and whispers a goodnight to his date, waves his hand to the maitre de to make sure she gets home safe.
Talon stands up, and walks to the table in the back, moving around the table he stops behind the short pretty elf girl and leans down to her ear saying something flirty and confident in Sperethiel smiling ending up in one of the last two empty chairs. "So, do we have any hint of who our host might be? You can all call me Sharp, everyone does. At least he is paying for dinner." With fantastic table manners, Talon begins to eat his salad.
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 17:05, The Edge, Downtown
Jackson; PAN = Passive; SIN = Roan LInth rt 4
Gear: Armored Clothing, AR contacts, AR glove
"You all can call me Jack. Don't really have a name like some of you, but I know how things work. My specialty is routes through the city, and being fast on a bike." he said, smiling, still perusing his menu. "And no, I don't think any of us know who our mysterious host is. Hope he's got some nuyen on him, my salary at the delivery company doesn't cover these kinds of prices." he murmured, closing the AR for now, glad he remembered to keep his AR contacts on, and a glove in his pocket. "What other talents do we have here?"
-
"What other talents do we have here?"
Monday February 15, 2072; 17:05, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.3
Dirk taps his hands, palms down, on the fancy inlaid wood tabletop. The sound is similar to a metal mallet thunking against a workbench. Dirk gives the slightest hint of a smile.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:05, The Edge, Seattle Downtown
Eliza Gebb; PAN=Passive, Broadcasting SIN: Ada Lovelace
Eliza is a beautiful human girl in her earlier twenties. She has a thin face, framed by curly and well-treated dark hair, which when let loose go a little below her shoulders. She is a little shorter than most people, but this is hardly noticeable, since her slender structure hides this. Her green eyes are usually a little distant, as if she is constantly daydreaming or looking at something in AR. In fact, she loses focus somewhat easily due to AIPS.
At this time she is wearing a quite expensive and beautiful cocktail dress, a little more at the glamorous side than the formal one; still, it does not seem inadequate for the place. Her makeup is very simple, but well-made; nothing too noticeable, just correcting the occasional imperfection and improving her natural features.
The only accessory she is visually wearing are her glasses, which are of a light frame and compose well with the rest of the image.
As the other two come to the table, the girl is already inspecting them all. Both by her own skill and by the data input provided by her glasses, she reads the behavior of her table-mates and guess the emotional state of each one. Most seem apprehensive, and she deems it a good sign: they are most likely not part of an ambush, and if there is one, some probably have already taken precautions.
"Ada" smiles at J: "Don't worry about it. If you got the call, our host probably deemed you valuable. Eventually, you get the hang of it. For some of us, though, it always seems like first time."
She goes for the first course. Her movements are truly graceful, if a bit too much precise.
"I tend to think I work well around some... systems. Some say I'm good at word fencing." She says, in reply to Jack's question.
-
PAN Status: Passive
SIN Status: Jenna McIntyre
Brows raise as the tall elf male leans down to murmur in her ear; she glances up to him with a smile that is both amused and curious, before responding with a greeting in sperethiel. Leigh's eyes follow as he sits, studying his features quietly for a long moment before letting her gaze travel to the rest of the group, catching the tail end of what seemed like cautious, semi-comfortable conversation. Turning her attention to the one called J, she offers a kind and confident smile.
"The hardest part is probably the first firefight. Confusion, anarchy, loud noises and flashes of light. Not to mention blood. But if you make it through that, you'll do fine." she offers, then shrugs alittle. "If you're worried and uncertain, stick close to someone, cover their back, and play to your strengths. Thats all you can really do." Leigh offers, tone melodius yet silky. To the others, she offers a professional sort of grin. "Mostly, my talent is looking good and talking sweetly... but I'm a pretty good shot, and I can keep myself out of trouble."
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 5:06 pm, Inside The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
"Codeslinger and friend to machines, small or large." Ironclad sits up from his slumped position and blinks a couple of times, his eyes again focusing on the reality in front of him. "I'm a decent pilot, but I'm terrible with firearms... in meatspace."
-
"Thanks, I'm a mage... Well Shaman... I've never touched a firearm but I've been in combat. I'm better with illusions."
He relaxed slightly, he'd never busted any of these guys before, it was a start.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:07, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Ironclad, Dirk, and Talon caught a hint in the corner of their eye as the appetizer was eaten - was that guy at the next table watching them? It was hard to say for sure. He may have just been curious about the odd assortment of folk at the table. J was pretty sure he heard a familiar voice, but with the acoustics in this place it was hard to say for certain. Before any of them had a real chance to check him out, he and his date stood up. As the woman left, though, the man came over to the table to join the group.
"Enjoying your salad, I trust?" the elf inquired as he slid gracefully into his seat. One seat still remained empty. "I'm sure it's not quite the fare most of you are accustomed to, but a change in pace is often welcome, I find." Not everyone's face agreed.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Leather Face." He paused as if expecting laughter. "Well, like I said, I wasn't going to give you a name, so I just borrowed one."
Ironclad noted his ARO. The name it was broadcasting was Mister Johnson - with "Mister" actually being his first name. Brass ones on this guy. He doubted any of the information on the link would be helpful.
"Sorry to eavesdrop, but I do like to have as many advantages as I can," he continued. The more he talked, the more certain each of them became: this was the voice that had invited them here. No mask this time? Interesting. "And I'm sorry about sounding so….shall we call it forceful?…. on the message. I'm in quite a hurry, and team-building the nice way can take weeks. And yet…" he glanced at the empty chair, "One decided not to show up anyway. I'll deal with him later."
The group glared at him, pondering the implications of what "deal with him" meant. "Please, I don't mean like that. I'm not a monster." The glares continued. "Fine, if you must know, I'm going to mark him off on our runner registry so we know he's not a reliable asset. Despite your misgivings, you all seem to be trusting enough. The truly paranoid wouldn't have touched that salad."
The group stopped mid-chew as if on command. Leather Face laughed. "Christ, lighten up guys. I didn't have your damn salads poisoned. I told you, I've got a job for you. Besides, this place has a reputation to uphold. Have you ever tried bribing them to poison someone? That gets expensive."
The elf brushed his hair aside. Medium length, dark, and well groomed, it almost covered his elven ears - and probably could cover them if he didn't specifically try not to. It curved gently to meet his angular chin at the jawline. Par for the course for the Edge, he was wearing a slickly tailored pinstripe suit and dark gray sweater underneath. He looked young, but then again, he was an elf. They looked young at sixty.
The waitress appeared around the corner, ready to take orders from everyone. "Ah, here we are. I'd like the herbed risotto with sun dried tomatoes, and I'll have a glass… no, a bottle of the 2061 Tairngire Vineyards Merlot." The waitress noted it and moved around the table, taking the order of each in turn.
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"Erm.. The channa massala please and just water to drink?.."
Conrad didn't know what to say to the Johnson, he'd all ready finished the salad before poison was ever mentioned.
Better take a look at him..
Opening his mind to the astral he scrutinised the Elf's colours.
Int 4 + Assensing 4 + Actively Looking 2 (10d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3195689/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:07, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.3
I'm assuming this chummer is footing the bill.. he'd better be, because it'd be rude to dine and dash when they find out I have 200 nuyen to my name. He might be plotting to kill me, but that just means that I should make sure I have a nice expensive dinner first. This is the first dinner that I've had in weeks that didn't consist of 97% soy.
"I'll take a liter of Guinness Ancestral Lager, wild mushroom risotto, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and bakery bread with cream butter"
Holy crap, this is going to cost a fortune.. let's go for gold
"And I'll take a cup of real coffee with cream and cane sugar"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:07, The Edge, Downtown
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings Rt.4
Talon looks at Leatherface and raises an eyebrow, noticeably. "An interesting choice that, merlot is not a traditional pairing with a sun dried tomato rissoto. Might want to switch that to a Chianti or a Pinot Noir. Anyway, I'll have the rissotto with sun dried tomatoes, that asparagus sounds great, and I'll also take the bakery bread with a saucer with olive oil and balsamic vinegar and pepper please. And your best Chianti, bottle please." Talon leans back and winks at the pretty elf girl, balancing his dinner fork by a single prong on the tip of his finger.
Well if he was going to kill us, he wouldn't do it here. I just hope that woman will wink back. Bet should could wrap these boys around her fingers.
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 5:07 pm, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown
Eliza Gebb; PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); SIN = Ada Byron rt. 4
An interesting assortment of talents we have gathered here. Eliza does not know what kind of job Leather Face has in mind, but it does not seem the most simplistic one; he needs almost every ability there is in the shadows, and with backups, it seems.
When the waitress approaches Eliza, she orders a panner palak. In Sperethiel, she also adds: "And ask the cook not to save in the spices." Looking at the host meta type Eliza refrains herself from paying the restaurant snobbishness in it's own coin, and does not ask for an Amazonian wine since she can't stand this elven all-too important and commercial wines (which in fact, she also admires); but asks for a Viognier, since a robust white will harmonize greatly with her meal.
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 17:07, Inside The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
Yup, this kind of food isn't my cut of tea, so to speak.
Ironclad flicks the AR menu in the corner of his vision up into his primary field of view. Hmmm.... I no idea what in the hell most of this stuff is. He looks over the menu for a couple of seconds before closing it. Well, I guess I'll just go with the flow on this one.
"Right... I'll have the... channa massala and bakery bread with cream butter. For drinks... I'll take a water and a cup of coffee, black." He smiles at the waitress. "Thanks."
-
Leatherface's astral form revealed only one surprise - that he was Awakened. His magical talents didn't appear to be particularly strong, though. Besides that, his aura seemed to be that of your average Johnson - healthy, alert, perhaps the slightest hint of anxiousness.
As Conrad watched, he suddenly noticed Leatherface looking back at him. "It's rude to stare, you know," he said calmly.
-
Same time, same place
PAN Status: Passive
SIN Status: Jenna McIntyre
Leigh listened to 'Leatherface' quietly, her features carefully neutral, although brows do raise a little at his apparent knowledge on the expense of bribing the resteraunt to poison someone. Keeping those thoughts to herself, the elf leaned forward a little, but then smiled slightly as their host proceeded to order dinner. Negotiations on a full stomach tend to be easier, though if he's footing the bill, I wouldn't be surprised if it came out of our contract.. she muses, perhaps pessimistically.
As each of the others orders in turn, Leigh cataloged the information, admiring their tastes - particularly Ada's, having a soft spot for spicy heat herself. When it comes around to her, however, she decides to break from the indian cuisine.
"I'll have the kaeng khua het fang and khanom chin sao nam..." the elf requests, her Thai seeming rote more than natural. "Ask your chef to add extra chillies to the latter." Leigh adds with a slight grin. "And I'll have cha yen and a Guinness Ancestral as well." she finishes, flashing Talon a quick a little smile in response to his wink.
Once finished ordering, Leigh settles back in her chair comfortably, taking another casual look around the table at those that she will apparently be working with. Interesting bunch... some of them seem a little rough around the edges, but that could just be my world view biasing me..
Focusing back on 'Leatherface', Leigh studies him for a long moment, trying to determine if there anything about his features or voice that would be familiar from anywhere. Once the waitress departs, she'll lean forward slightly, reaching for a glass of water. "I understand your point about team-building, and it leads me to wonder why your employeer would not have you contact an established team." she comments, gaze questioning, before taking a sip from her glass.
-
"My employer sprung this on me as a test," he answered without missing a beat. "I'm up for a promotion. But I'm reminded of gift horses and mouths. After all, if I'd gone out to hire an established team, you all would still be unemployed right now, am I correct?"
Make a judge intentions test if you don't trust him :)
"Now, shall we get down to business?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:09, The Edge, Downtown
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings Rt.4
Talon watches Leatherface carefully, if not nonchalantly. "Yes, we may have still been unemployed. But we also wouldn't be suspecting each other of suspicious intentions"
Judge intentions: Int (4) + Cha (5) (9d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3196538/)
"So when do we start talking business? I don't wish to interrupt my meal with... negotiations... But I have no problem waiting until after the meal if you wish to procrastinate. In the interim, these chairs are quite comfortable, I wonder where they get them... Definitely like not having arms on them, makes them faaar more versatile Flashes a grin at Dancer and resumes his relaxed pose.
"Also I hope you are prepared to front some cred for expenses. Since I don't know any of my team mates here, I will want to be picking up a few things in case of contingencies."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:09, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.3
Something about this whole situation definitely doesn't scan.. sounds like he's looking for a bunch of nobodies that are 100% expendable; otherwise, he'd have at least one or two established (and trusted) runners in the group, if nothing else so he can keep tabs on the rest of the "talent".
This is either amateur hour, or we're being set up to take the fall for something.
Judge Intentions roll (Int 4+Cha 3) 7d6.hits(5)=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3196722/)
Blackjack fixes the Johnson with a steely glare through his matte black cybershades.
"I pick my employers, and I pick my work. My employment is none of your business unless I choose to make it so. This had better be good."
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Nothing changed here
Jackson, SIN = Passive Broadcast of Roan Linth, RT 4
"Well, Mister Johnson, or Leatherface, which ever you prefer, what IS the work you're hiring us for?" Jackson asked, ordering a simple beer.
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5 (Charisma) + 4 (Intuition) + 6 (Glasses Empathy software) = 15 dice pool
15 dice roll = 5 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3197622/)
Eliza does not looks as if she is staring, but she evaluates the so called Leather Face with caution. Her natural perspective glances enhanced by the cues her glasses sensors give her on the physiological hints of their host are usually her best weapon on a battle of wits, and she had learned to trust her impressions.
"Usually I don't like negotiating during a meal... It never feels appropriate, and can spoil the experience." Ada seems quite polite, and is saying nothing but the true. As far as she perceived based on the orders, they could all had a more than decent gastronomic experience before the end of the day. "But if you are interested in starting the business talk, I wouldn't be contrary to that. The stage you set let me quite curious, Mr. Johnson."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:10, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Talon, Blackjack, and Eliza scrutinized their potential employer. Only Eliza - and her empathy software - could get a hint of what Leatherface was spinning. She was sure that what he was saying wasn't true, but probably only just - and perhaps more telling, her empathy software picked up on signals, body language and vocal cues, that he was actually invested in the relationships he was cultivating here. Perhaps he was more concerned about what someone else might get wind of than what the actual team knew. Seeing through the lie put her at the advantage, and paradoxically made her feel like she could trust him. With a hint of something she might in the future be able to hold over him, Eliza might be able to pull that thread and actually trust him. What better trust is there than blackmail?
"If you'd rather wait until after the meal," he was saying, "I'm in no rush. It certainly makes sense that you'd want to savor a meal of this caliber." He turned to Talon. "As for expenses, they'll probably be coming out of your cut, but I suppose depending on the nature I might be persuaded to expense some gear for you."
Monday February 15, 2072; 17:15, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
A few minutes later - faster than expected, even - their entrees began arriving.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:15, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
"Ah wonderful! Either the kitchen is slow tonight, or someone likes us." Grins devilishly at Leatherface. Talon digs in after everyone is served, savoring every bite and lavishing in the mixture of pleasant flavors. "Meals like this make me wish I was married to a chef, Mmmmm"
Monday February 15, 2072; 17:45, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
"... And then I wanted as this dancer just gassed this trog with this huge grin on his face. So I said 'You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face or things might escalate!' " Talon laughs heartily and takes a drink of wine and sighs heavily. "Haha hah... anyway, it seems like everyone has finished their meal now. Lets move the conversation toward the serious."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:45, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
"Ada"'s plate is completely clean before her. The girl holds her glass and looks at the remains of the meal. With a meditative look at nowhere in particular, she adds: "It was quite good, I give you that, but it's not that difficult to know why the movement here is dwindling. Seems like the chef is having a hard time trying to be innovative."
She sips some wine, smiles widely, and scans a brief glaze through all her table-mates. You can learn more in a dispretentious conversation during a dinner than most would imagine. I was a good time - and that is really something when it comes to knowing a Johnson with a forced through team.
"So, Mr. Johnson, I think you could brief us in about the job you will request. It seems like you got everybody's attention."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:45, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Jackson Hart, PAN = Passive, SIN RT4: Roan Linth
Jack had just ordered a salad, not really caring about the sophisticated food, and it showed. "It's alright..I'm saving my appetite for somewhere else." he said, finishing it quickly and pushing it aside. "I'll be honest, I came here for business, not fancy food. If we could follow her suggestion and get on with exactly that."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:46, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
"Down to business it is. So here's the rub. I need some data planted in the right place, which in this case means the NeoNET communications nexus in Tacoma. If it's planted there, the amount of data passing through that fiber will mask its origin. This will involve sneaking into the facility - undetected, of course - and linking a datastick I'll provide into one of the core routers. The software on the stick should take care of the rest from there. It's important that this is done on Wednesday before 11AM. I can offer 2000 nuyen for each of you - half up front, of course."
The waitress returned, bringing a bottle of moscato and a number of wine glasses on a tray wine glasses. "Will this be shared with everyone today, sir?"
As she poured wine into his glass, he smiled. "I took the liberty of ordering us a dessert wine. Wine is always on me for any of my business partners. With that in mind, I will let each of them decide if they would like some wine."
Who would accept a job readily with so little information? The dubious looks he got back from the more experienced of the group said enough. "Just leave the glasses, please, miss. I'll pour for those who want it." As she complied, he returned his attention to the table. "What can I tell you to get you to let me pour you a glass?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:46, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
Talon glances at Leatherface. "Well, do you have more information? Security protocols, systems, response times, number of personnel at different times of day? Also, 2000 seems a little low to risk my life with people I've never met. So I would like to request a little more for me, I have bills to pay after all."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:45, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Eliza appreciated the way LeatherFace drove the negotiation: not that it would facilitate any one accepting the job, but it was done with style. What she really, really didn't like was hearing the word NeoNET.
She puts down the glass she was drinking before, now emptied, and with a soft voice, says:
"I believe this wine will need to take some air before we partake of it, Mr. Johnson. It will enhance it's bouquet and give us time to decide if we'll be business partners or not."
Toying a little with her hair, the girl continues:
"I believe you could share with us a little more info on the practicalities of the task. I'm wondering why should you assemble a team like ourselves - you certainly believe there's a need for each of our talents, and it would be useful for us to know into what you base this assumptions. Also, I'd like to know a little more about the facility where this little tampering should be staged: what kind of security should we expect, and within which parameters should we act there. May you enlighten us as to it?"
-
Same place, slightly later time
Jackson, PAN passive, SIN Roan
"2k? Either there is something wrong, or you're not expecting us to come back." he said, enjoying his Guinness brew. "II'm sorry, but I could go to my normal...employer and make that in a day or two, minimal risk, no team required. You either need to up the price, or explain real well why it's so cheap to sneak into a likely highly guarded building to find this info." he said, keeping his cool.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:46, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Dirk finished his meal, acting as though he ate like this on a regular basis, but knowing full well that his meal had probably cost 250 nuyen.
I know it's tradition to give the condemned a last meal of their choosing, but I didn't think it would be washed down with a whole liter of Guinness Ancestral Lager!
Dirk considered what Leatherface was offering.
Two thousand nuyen isn't bad pay, assuming it's a milk run.. Hopefully one of these guys can talk him up a bit. It'd be nice to have the rent a few weeks in advance.
"If things go sideways, somehow I get the feeling that I'm on the 'muscle' side of the equation. I might be able to bluff my way in, but getting my gear inside is going to be a whole different story. Might be better to use my chameleon suit and let some of these slick chummers here create a diversion. There might be rooftop access, and I've got my grappling gun, but we'd need a wiz hacker to disable the security."
Dirk reaches for the wine and pours himself a glass, but makes a point to put the glass in front of him without taking a sip
Just pouring wine never settles things, it's the toast that seals the deal
He nods to Eliza and Talon in agreement concerning the need for more information
"I assume you can tell us more about the security, both getting in and getting back out, right? As for insurance, well, I can assume that if we get pinched, they'll figure out pretty quickly what happened and the data plant will be useless. Seems like full disclosure is in both of our best interests. So what exactly are we getting into here?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:47, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
"Well, Mr. Linth, if I wasn't expecting you to come back, I'd be offering a much higher amount. I'd never have to pay it, after all."
"As for the security on the facility, most of what I can tell you are the things that are easily found through other channels, and you may in fact have better channels than I do. The only thing I know for sure is that the front door is not an option, which I why I put together a team so diverse. I'm not sure which of your talents will be the one that makes or breaks this job."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:48, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Eliza is uncomfortable with they ways her new motley tries to solve things. Two things that she thought were amateur acts were just now done by her teammates: negotiation the pay before knowing the full details and bringing solutions before the problems were evaluated. They can be good at whey they do, but they are entering into her turf and making it a little worse. At least Leather Face doesn't seem to make it a issue, for the time being.
Not a time to disagree, though. Beginning in the right stance is the least she can hope for.
"Well, Mr. Johnson, we have asked about the details of the job not because we could get them on our own - and what I say is specially true about the local security. The question at hand is that, as professionals, we need to know as much as we can right now to better appraise your proposal: 2000 nuyen can be both too much or nothing at all regarding this job; it all depends on the details we have yet to clarify."
She takes some time appreciating the wine bottle. She was in need of the credit, but working with people you don't know the MO, and specially when you will not have time to familiarize with... that means trouble. Still...
The girl continues:
"Also, I would like to know what is the effects you expect from our actions. I can understand if you don't want to share this, for your own anonymity sake, but understand that there are reasons why we would be more effective in knowing that: if things goes not initially as intended, the way we improvise things can influence the outcome of this deal; both positively as negatively, and knowing the intended results of our actions may determine if we will be working toward your goal intentionally or unawarely sabotaging it."
The voice tone she chooses indicates that she trust her judgments, but that she really think she can work not just inside the mission parameters, but towards and intended goal, if she knows which goal that is.
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Same time and place
PAN Status = Passive
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
Leigh found the dinner enjoyable; the food was decent, if a little uninspired, and her companions interesting and seeming very honest, if that could be said about shadowrunners that is. The elf let her drink linger, wanting to make sure she was clear-headed when dealing with an unknown Johnson, but relished the spice of the Thai dishes.
A brief flash of a smile to Ada, along with a nod. "Agreed... I think the kitchen has gotten a little too comfortable." she adds, then shrugs. "Although the resteraunts choice of theme might hurt them a little too." the elf adds. "As always, though, their wine-list remains one of the best in the city."
When the others ask about the job, Leigh leans back in her chair, relaxing but attentive. And when Leatherface goes over the basics, she studies him, hoping to 'read between the lines' as it were. The rather low offer however, took her aback.
"I do have to agree with my companions... particularly given that the job you offer *is* time sensative. I don't feel comfortable rushing into a job, and breaking into a communication nexus is challenging and dangerous." the elf starts, looking to the others briefly before turning her attentions back to their host. "I can understand the desire to maximize the use of your assets for minimum cost, believe me... but two thousand is far too low for what you ask, even for a non-established group." Leigh adds.
As she speaks, she uses her commlink to send a terse message to Ada and the others, a simple 'Start High. 6k?'
Reaching for her mug of cha, Leigh drains the last few sips before re-addressing Leatherface. "I can also understand your not wanting to reveal too many of details on the job before the preliminary negotiations are complet." she adds, briefly winking to Talon.
As Ada continues with Leatherface, Leigh turns her attention to the other female of the group, nodding carefully in agreement, enjoying listening to her speak.'Well put' she messages to her.
"I cannot help but agree, sir." she starts, offering a tip of respect to their potential employer. "As I am sure you understand, plans rarely remain intact once put into action; especially in situations where time is of essence. Rushing without enough intel can be disasterous to the final objective."
Negotiation (SENSE MOTIVE) -> 6 successes
http://www.palladiumknights.com/forums/showthread.php?336-Generic-Dice-Roll-Thread&p=3473#post3473
Note: Maroon text indicates intstant message-like thingys.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:48, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
"All reasonable enough points. The basics of the security, so far as my limited search has found, are not out of the ordinary for a facility of this kind. Which is to say, they have just over a dozen security guards on their payroll, I assume divided into three shifts, so I'd expect four to six at any given time. I've driven past a few times and I've seen two around the front each time, so I think they focus their attention mostly on that. Matrix security is obviously intense. I haven't had a chance to check their astral security, but typical NeoNET involves some token astral security and, if you're unlucky, there's a chance a mage will be on duty." Despite his initial objections, his smooth delivery of the dossier made it clear was expecting such questions. Like I said, some of you may have access to channels I do not."
He turned to Eliza. "The datastick I'll give you will contain a commlink ID and an encrypted message. Those are the only details I can give that have even a chance of helping you adjust to circumstances. If the automated program on the stick fails for whatever reason, your second option is simply to get that message to that recipient."
"Now, understand one thing. I can go up to 3000 apiece without much difficulty. However, if you're looking for more than that, it will come with further expectations. I expect my team-building efforts to be rewarded. Specifically, in the future, I would expect preferential treatment with regard to taking work I ask of you."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:48, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
The hair falling over her face hides it a little, but "Ada" expression hints of a smile. She holds the offered glass, but takes her time without letting it be served.
She streams a message to the commcodes of the others:
"Well, guys, this is getting interesting. As far as I can tell, this guy is a smooth negotiator, and has been playing nice. Even though the pay seems cheap; remember that the team is a huge one. So far he is tossing twenty-one grand at the table!
The sum of variables with which we are working:
I calculate we got two edges over him (although one can be interpreted as a double-edge): 1)the team assembling exercise he is putting on here, even though not necessarily a "test from his employers", as he stated, is something that he is valuing. It was a great wok of his part and I don't think he will like it not working, so we can count on his effort; 2) time; the job must be done before 11AM, Wednesday. A quite short time frame for us, but even shorter for the next team if the situation come to it, and he will have a hard time dealing with finding another one. Still, he is the one calling the shots, as we clearly don't know each other and can't coordinate well, at least for a first meeting.
My evaluation: 6k would be too much to ask (it would signify 42 grand at his expenses, and we don't know how much he may already have payed to contact us), but I believe we could raise the offer to something in the house of 4 grand each, specially with what he is talking about the future is for real. Opinions?"
Quite a huge message, but the girl was already working on it before Leather Face made his last offer.
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Conrad remained silent and ate, choosing not to talk back and having no idea what input to give... He pondered the Nexuses security...
IC is down so using http://www.roll-dice-online.com/
Magical Security: Int 4 + Skill 6 = 5 - 3 - 3 - 3 - 2 - 4 - 2 - 3 - 2 - 4 1 Success.
Corporate Knowledge: Int 4 + Skill 3 = 1 - 4 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 1 - 1 fail...almoooost a glitch.
.. he couldn't remember squat about NeoNet.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:49, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Dirk sent back a message in response to Ada's.
"He seems to have deeper pockets but wants some kind of future loyalty out of it. I don't get it.
I'm not familiar with the Tacoma NeoNET facility he's talking about. At least he's not talking about the NeoNET facility downtown. You guys know what I'm talking about? It's those seven uneven skyscrapers that surround the eighth one in the middle that are all covered in flashy AR ads."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:49, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Ada waited for the others, but she knew it was not interesting to let their host waiting. Her voice is assertive, with an alluring effect.
"Mr. Johnson, the job you require is a sensible one: it wouldn't work if any tampering is discovered at the NeoNET communication nexus; time is also of the essence. I believe we have a so short timeframe since you carefully spend some working in assembling this team."
She makes it quite clear that he would waste some valuable time to arrange other group for the task. The girl glances at the others, before going on.
"I feel confidence in this guys, and in your choosing ability. I believe your team-building effort will be rewarded; what we ask from you is just a fair deal: a good pay for a good job. How about four thousand to each of us? One in advance, and three at completion?"
Ada offers the glass to be served:
"I believe you are quite capable of justifying this investment to your employer."
Negotiations dice pool = 5 (Charisma) + 4 (Negotiation) + 1 (Vocal Range Enhancer) + 2 (First impression) + 6 (Glasses Empathy Software) = 18 dice
18 dice = 6 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3198009/)
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 17:49 pm, Inside The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
After eating the meal, Ironclad leaned back in his chair and began to drift a bit, listening to the others talk.
Man, I am thankful for these earplugs. I doubt I'd be able to hear a fuckin' thing without them.
Hearing about the Tacoma nexus, Ironclad thought back to his experiences in the past few years in Seattle.
Intuition 5 + Area Knowledge: Seattle 4 = (9d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3198104/)
Afterwards, his mind drifted to the possibilities of the Nexus' security.
Logic 3 + Security Design 2 = (5d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3198111/)
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 17:50 pm, Inside The Edge, Downtown district
Sharp; PAN = Acitve (Transys Avalon), SIN = Nicholas Spikings rt.4
Listens as the negotiations progress and begins to wonder about the job. What can I remember about this NEOnet nexus thing...
Area knowledge: Seattle (2) + Int (4) (6d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3198404/)
Let me see if I can find a satellite map of this place...
Data search (0) - Defaulting (1) + Log (2) + Browse (4) (5d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3198409/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:48, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Leather Face picked up the wine glass and poured it into Ada's waiting glass. "I believe we have an arrangement," he said. One by one he poured the wine into the glasses of everyone that held up their glass. "One thousand nuyen up front, three thousand upon completion."
Although the group had heard of its existence, none of them could specifically remember much about it. Sharp was pretty sure this was a fairly new building - probably built as part of the WMI half a decade ago - but was only able to find a low-resolution satellite image of the place, not much more than a warehouse by appearances. Because it was built after the Crash, Ironclad had a feeling that it had higher security than communication hubs used to have.
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(( OOC: Got tied up with RL yesterday, sorry! My post will skip over the older posts, as it would be fairly pointless to revist stuff from several game minutes earlier, but I do want to say: great posts! You're all talented writers ^_^ ))
Same time and place, same PAN and SIN status
Leigh smiles to herself at Ada's statements and conclusions towards their host. Reaching idly for a glass of the dessert wine, she takes a brief sip, to sample it, then flashes a little smile to Talon before looking back to their star negotiator first, then Leatherface.
"I'm glad to see we've a deal in place, sir." she comments, once again adding that touch of respect at the end. "Now that we do, is there further information you're willing to share with us? Things you might not have shared with those not in your employ?" the elf then queries, leaning forward a little bit.
While waiting for a response, she sends a quick message to her now-teammates, 'What do we know about this NeoNet nexus? I'm rather in the dark myself.'
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:46, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
[Replying to Leigh's PAN message]
Sounds like we're all a bit in the dark on this place.
I'll do some scouting tonight, try to check out the surrounding buildings as well. It would be good if we can have a full report on this place by tomorrow morning, and that includes checking out astral as well as Matrix security. We don't have much time to plan this.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:46, The Edge, Downtown
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings Rt.4
Well, all the information I have is that the building is quite new. Only about 5 or so years old, so I would assume it was built specifically to house this commsite. Which means the security is going to be pretty high, since it was after well BOTH crashes. Now I don't know much else except its location. I assume one of you is good at hunting down that kind of information and I suggest you get to work soon. We have roughly 24 hours to plan this.
Talon reaches out and takes the wine glass, sipping softly. "Now that we have a deal. If you could pass on any information you have to us, such as if there is something else of value on site, we will be able to get to work. The reason I ask about other valuables is in case we are discovered, it would be advantageous to you for us to make things look like we were after something else. Also is there a way to get in touch with you if we are suddenly in need of your professional capacities? " Grins playfully at Dancer. This could be fun. If we can find a way to disguise our purpose as just seeking access to some paydata that would be great. Then if we bump into security I can make a little extra cred.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:49, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Smiling, the girl sipped from the glass and savored the wine. Now that the negotiations part was mostly over, she could relax a little, and focus on other things than the emotional analysis of the people around the table.
Her only lingering thought was "dawn, why did it have to be NeoNET?". As the ARO messages flashes in her glasses lens, she opens a search program and tries to scan what has been said about the facility in question on the Matrix. Sometimes, even the news can bring you valuable information.
4 (Data Search) + 5 (Browse) + 2 (Analitycal Mind) + 2 (Encephalon 2) = 13 dice
13 dice = 4 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3199037/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:52, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Leather Face savored his wine for a few minutes. As it was nearing emptiness, he pulled out a commlink and a small pile of credsticks. One by one, he slotted each into his commlink, loading them up with cash, then deftly slid each across the table to the group - the team, now - each receiving their due.
He pulled out one more stick, a datastick. "This contains the encrypted message and a low-level Agent. Once inserted into a computer in the nexus, it should automatically send the message where it needs to go. In case that goes wrong, I've included the recipient's commcode on the stick as well, and the few surveillance photos I took a few days ago, In case you find use for those. He placed the datastick on the table near Eliza.
"Now," he looked over to Sharp, "I haven't heard of anything unusually valuable there, but being a communications hub, I suppose there would be logs of data transactions and such. I can imagine someone might be interested in stealing those."
"I think that's all the business I have for you, gentlemen. Ladies."
He looked directly at Blackjack. "You're covering this one, right?" Leather Face paused a moment as Blackjack considered the cost of the meal he was enjoying. He let out another hearty chuckle and signaled the waitress over. "Miss, I'm ready to check out here. Add whatever dessert my friends would like and a seventeen percent tip for yourself, please. Here's my account." He fiddled with his AR a moment. The waitress smiled and thanked him. He stood to leave.
A moment later, Eliza's search results came back. She was able to confirm that it was built as part of the WMI shortly after the Crash. Part of the press release was the phrase "enhanced security measures".... wonderful. It had remained mostly quiet since then as far as the news went. There was one mention of security breach about a year before, but no further details on that incident presented themselves.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:52, The Edge, Downtown, Elven District.
Conrad Johnson; PAN=Passive SIN: Arthur Jones, R. 3.
"Thanks for the job, Leather Face."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:52, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Eliza takes the datastick and holds it at her own eye's level. What can this little thing do? What message does the device carry, and who is it's mysterious recipient? She can't help but wonder what are Leather Face business.
She looks to her team. "So, how well do you think it all went? What are yours considerations?" Then, she stares at J., and in a somewhat professorial manner, say: "I believe you know, J., that it's not unheard of 'runners being set up by their contractors. So here goes your first lesson to survive the shadows: always run a research on them. Always."
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 17:52 pm, Inside The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
[Matrix messages are to everyone's PAN unless otherwise stated.]
Ironclad watched Leather Face get up from his chair. His gaze shifted to the datastick lying on the table. After staring at it for a couple fo seconds, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. Ironclad crossed his arms over his chest.
So, we're being tested? Wonderful. I can't see any reason why he'd just give us the commcode of the recipient. Otherwise, there'd be no reason for this overly complicated arrangement
Ironclad grins.
At least we're getting paid and this'll cover the next month for me.
Ironclad looks at Eliza as she speaks. "Who's gonna be the one to run it? Shall we all, only a couple, or place our faith in the trustworthiness and competence of one person. Ya' know, because we've all just met. Personally, I volunteer to run a search on our friendly neighborhood Mr. Johnson."
However, I'd also like to probe the Nexus' firewalls and get a better idea of what's awaiting us. There's also some help I'd like to be doing some "recruiting".
Ironclad winks.
Another thing I'd caution about this place, though, is to expect the security to be greater than the old Nexi of years past. People are afraid of crazy AIs, technos, and such, especially since the outing a couple of years back.
"Shall we discuss this elsewhere? Personally, I'd like to away from this place. It's too..." He gestures to the plants and decorations of The Edge, "Natural. Plus the sneers are getting annoying."
And of course, the expected bugs.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:53, The Edge, Downtown, Elven District.
Conrad Johnson; PAN=Passive SIN: Arthur Jones, R. 3.
Giving a quizzical look,
"What if they'll be pissed about it?... and yeah let's Buzz."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:52, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp, PAN = Passive; SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
Talon finishes his wine, and sits forward in his chair. "So it looks like we increased our income quite effectively, and we have a little more information. I don't have a lot of contacts in the area, so I will leave the intel gathering to you all. We can get together around mid-day tomorrow to figure out our plan of attack. As far as a test, I agree this is a test, but the 'link code is probably attached to a burner, and the reason he isn't just having us send the message is because he doesn't want it traced back to anyone connected to him. This is why he needs it sent from the nexus link rather than from any individual. If anyone needs any help with anything, let me know, I will be glad to assist in any capacity I can. We have 30 hours to get this planned and prepared. I suggest we get to work"
@Dancer: And I hope to see you again soon Dancer. I would enjoy doing our 'homework' together ;) Maybe I will find out where you got that name.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:53, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
"That's why we do it discreetly." The girl answers J's question. "Also, they expect it, in some way. Most experienced 'runners do it, so most experienced Johnson's have also dealt with it."
With the evening light deeming, Ada's dress illumine itself in a light blue hue; a charming effect. She finishes her wine, and looks over Ironclad: "I believe the one's who have a way to do it, shall do it. I think I haven't got many information on our Johnson to search on him, other than his voice and face. I agree that we also have to get as many information on the facility as necessary."
She stores the datastick.
"I don''t think I will be able to go to the Nexus to evaluate it's complexity and the way they respond to any activity, but it's an important thing to know. Anyway, even though we may meet again tomorrow at noon, I would like to receive news on your findings, and to contact you should I find something also; this way, we all got more time to device a plan. You all can have my commcode." She sends a message to everyone with her commcode number. "If it's more confortable, let's leave. But remember that Leather Face paid for this place, and he must have taken precautions for us not to be spied upon; elsewhere it will be in our hands to arrange the same privacy."
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Monday, February 15, 2072; ~17:54. The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
PAN Status = Passive
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
"I'm with Ada on this... the security at this place has traditionally been solid, since it more often hosts high-class dining." Leigh suggests, looking to the others. "We might as well take advantage of it, decore or otherwise." she continues, reaching once more for her wine and taking another sip.
"Besides, he's also paying for dessert, and the menu here is *quite* good, even if the entree's are not... I understand they recently hired a new baker. Back on proper topic, though, I'll check in with some aquiantences about our host and the location... hopefully whatever I learn will compliment what everyone else finds out, to give us a bigger picture of things." the elf adds.
As she recieves Ada's comcode Leigh files it away, then responds by sending her own out to the rest of the crew.
"Also, in the case of meeting up tommorow, where? I'd rather not here, of course. Any suggestions?"
@Talon: If you want to know, you'll have to come by my work place sometime.. .
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:54, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp, PAN = Passive; SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
@Dancer I was hoping something a little more intimate.
"I am planning to enjoy my dessert before I head out for the night. Maybe Jenna would be kind enough to surprise me with my dessert order? As for meeting up later, we won't decide that now. We will decide just before the meeting and bring everyone together someplace inconspicuous. I was thinking a safe house or an abandoned warehouse or something of that nature. What I do know is I want to be able to start this operation by 10pm tomorrow night."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:55, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
"I know of a much more private place that we can use, but it might not be up to everyone's standards, if you know what I mean. It's a gambling club in the Ork Underground, right outside the tourist area. They don't ask very many questions, and since it's illegal they sure as hell don't bug the place. You get caught cheating, they just shoot you and dump the body."
Street Knowledge - Gambling Dens (2) + Intuition (4) (6d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3200937/)
"The Ork Underground extends a lot further than just Downtown. It goes all the way to Tacoma, Everett, even parts of the Puyallup Barrens. Let me take a look at that address, could be right on top of the Ork Underground..."
Street Knowledge (Seattle) (2) + Specialization (Ork Underground) (+2) + Intuition (4) = 8 dice (8d6.hits(5)=6) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3200942/)
"Whether you folks want to come with or not, I am heading down to the Underground to to go meet with my contacts in the Skraacha Gang, see if they can give me any info on this place. They've got some magically active members, maybe we'll get lucky and one of them knows something. I'll drop you guys off at the club. Ironclad, you'd better come with, we need to have at least one ork in the group. After all, this is the Ork Underground we're talking about."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:55, The Edge, Downtown
Blackjack's memory did not fail him. He pulled up the given address on his mapsoft, mentally overlaying what he knew of the Ork Underground. There was at least one entrance fairly close to that spot. Where exactly did that come out at? It was an area that had some sort of unofficial association with the UCAS army - in Tacoma, that wasn't unusual. There were probably more than a few orks that lived in that area of the Underground and commuted down to Fort Lewis.
He'd been there once with one of his Skraacha buddies, at a bar where he was surrounded by ork soldiers and airmen. Not a lot of room to breathe in that bar, and more than enough sweat and testosterone to make anyone think twice. He'd made a mental note of that exit - if this bar started going sideways, he felt better knowing there was a way to get to the surface in a hurry. It was right around the corner. He never had to take it, though, so he never figured out exactly where it came out.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 17:55, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Blackjack furrows his massive brow, trying to remember details on the furthest points out in the Ork Underground
"Hmm.. there WAS an entrance near that address, I'm sure of it now. There was a bar nearby, full of jacked up army slots, folks that hadn't been laid in way too long and who were just looking for a fight. At least they were mostly orks, hell of a lot less likely to say something stupid than those Humanis shitheads that keep cropping up in surface bars."
Blackjack quickly checks the data logs on the orientation system built into his cyberarm and overlays the coordinates of the bar onto the mapsoft showing the surface structures, namely the NeoNET Nexus Building.
Good thing my orientation system has a built-in gyroscope system to stay accurate even underground.
Navigation (1) + Int (4) + Orientation System (2) = 7 dice (7d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3201577/), no glitch
(via commlink)
I'm sending over the map overlay now
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A few seconds later, everyone got this map.
Ignore most of the labels here, Google Maps doesn't let me turn those off without also turning off all the streets. Also note that this is not a complete and accurate map of that part of the Underground, only the parts that Blackjack went to.
Also, assuming everyone shares the recon photos Leatherface gave you, they were taken from vantage points along 19th Ave and 21st Ave.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~17:55, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Scanning through the dessert menu, Ada files Dancer's commcode and the images. She looks at "Jenna": "Do you recommend something for the dessert? Your enthusiasm oblige me to ask." She let her eyes fixed on the elf for a while, as if appreciating a landscape. Then she turns to Blackjack: "Good that we have a guide to the Underground with us! This will be interesting."
She waits some time before adding: "I'm may have a cue of whom to ask about the security of the place; but maybe my information will not go farthest from the Matrix security procedures and defenses. If someone has a way to evaluate the physical structure, it would be great. If any of you can try the place with a radar, we could get this information and also know how they respond to an unexpected signal. The problem is that the facility is quite close to military area..."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:00, The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
"We will evaluate the physical security of the site tonight. We're too close to the night of the run to test their defensive reactions, they're not staffing very many security guards and if they think they're being probed they might increase their staff. At the least they'll be less likely to fall for a con job if they're expecting trouble.
We might be able to use some of the Army jarheads to our advantage.. if we can get them all revved up and on the street it might provide us some good "cover" (looks pointedly at Dancer)
"I suggest we head out and get this started."
Blackjack stands and walks out the front door.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:00, The Edge, Downtown, Elven District.
Conrad Johnson; PAN=Passive SIN: Arthur Jones, R. 3.
J was having trouble keeping up, as the others formed plans his mind went blank.
Stage Fright.
He finally thought he could do something useful and mentally asked his astral companion to head to the hub and do astral recon and report "his" findings to J before sundown had him return home.
0 Services left.
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((Ugh. RL got a hold of me too.))
Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:00, The Edge, Downtown
Jackson; PAN=Passive SIN: Roan Linth Rt4
Jackson listened in. "If I may, what would my part in all this be?" he asked, looking at those still at the restaurant. "Or should I just get myself in and be backup for everyone else? I guess it doesn't help that I have little ability in firearms." he mentioned. "Don't want to do stuff on my own and screw up the job."
-
Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:00 pm, Leaving The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
Ironclad got up from his seat and moved to follow Blackjack.
"Well, I'll be following your lead on this foray, supposing that we're still heading to there. I may be an ork, but I can't say that I've had extensive contact with the Underground. Also, before we really go anywhere, it'd probably be a good idea to reevaluate our clothing choices. I'd like all hell to get outta this outfit."
Ironclad focused on the flow of the code as he walked. He could hear it calling out to him, and a small voice formed from the buzz. He narrowed his focus towards that voice and reached out. He felt something... special as he reached. He mentally pulled hard back towards himself, willing shape into being, and letting his mind feel the direction that the Resonance wished to flow rather than direct it. In moments a small, mechanical figure with large expressive eyes, thin-framed glasses, and delicate arms formed in one of the AROs displaying information from his link.
He stumbled from the effort of pulling the little creature into being as the buzz seemed to dim to him. His vision swam and he neerly tettered over to the right, but he manged to stay upright, propping himself up with one arm against the wall. As his vision began to return to normal and the buzz reached its typical levels, he blinked and put a hand up to the side of his head, the sudden light throbbing of a headache assaulting him. He instinctually wiped his nose, a bit of blood smearing the side of his index finger.
Compiling a Rating 5 Data Sprite
Compiling Roll vs. Rating of Sprite: Resonance 6 + Compiling 4 = (10d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203738/) vs. Rating 5 = (5d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203746/)
Services Owed = 1
Incoming 4S Fading
Resisted by: Resonance 6 + Intuition 5 = (11d6.hits(5)=0) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203758/)
Ouch, 4S taken.
Fuck, that hurt! That took a lot more outta me than I expected. I'm gonna need to get my kit from my bike. Good thing I need to change before going anywhere.
He righted himself and continued to walk after Blackjack, wiping away the remaining blood from under his nose.
I'm gonna send a sprite out to search for more info on our Johnson while we're going about this. Hopefully, he'll bring back something more useful than what we've found already.
Ironclad looked at the curious little creature he had brought into existence inside his head.
[Only to the sprite]
Little one, would you mind looking for something for me? I need information on a particular person.
Ironclad accesses a still frame prominently featuring the Johnson from the recording. He points to the Johnson.
Look for any information on the Matrix you can find pertaining to this man. Be careful and try not to get caught looking by anyone. Now off you go and thank you.
[Back to Everyone]
So, yeah, I'd like to have time to get some back-up for the Matrix side of things, plus time to probe their defenses. Those both take quite a bit of time, and I'm pretty sure I don't have time for it all.
[OOC: Here's the rolls for the Sprite's Data Search Checks. It's searching the whole Matrix, so the interval is 1 minute. Appling the rule of -1 for each subsequent check, otherwise the Sprite could search the Matrix 8 hours, making a roll every 1 minute. If I'm doing this wrong, let me know, and I'll rework the rolls.
Browse 5 + Data Search 5
10d6.hits(5)=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203783/)
9d6.hits(5)=4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203785/) General or Public Knowledge
8d6.hits(5)=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203788/)
7d6.hits(5)=1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203794/)
6d6.hits(5)=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203796/)
5d6.hits(5)=1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203797/) Limited Interest or Not Publicized
4d6.hits(5)=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203798/)
3d6.hits(5)=1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203799/)
2d6.hits(5)=0 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3203801/) Critical Glitch (Poor thing got et?)
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:02, Outside The Edge, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Dirk turns to look at Ironclad and sees the blood running from his nose and down his chin.
"Holy shit mate, you all right? Usually only see that from riggers who jumped in and got clobbered while running hot. Unless.. ahh, I suppose I should assume that you're Awakened then. Nice."
Blackjack sends out an encrypted message to his fellow runner's PANs:
I'm sure everyone needs to get their gear together, get changed, call your people, do whatever it is you do before starting a run. There's an alleyway that has an entrance to the Underground across from a coffee shop in the downtown district. It's 6 PM now, let's meet there at 10 PM. I'll take you guys down to the club, once we're set up then the forward team can head out and scope out the building.
He sends a quick follow-up message with the address of the coffeeshop, called "Roasted Beans", and a note saying 10:00 Sharp
Dirk heads down to the Underground to meet with the club manager to secure a private room
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:00, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp, PAN = Passive; SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
"Alright boys and girls, head out, get your gear, hit up your contacts for any information you can gain access to, and meet up at the rendezvous, 10pm Roasted Beans."
@Dancer That leaves us about 3 hours. What dessert should we order to-go? I was thinking strawberries and cream.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:00, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
So she was right. Our matrix guy IS a technomancer. That's interesting, and a great advantage.
@Ironclad: Too good that you are one of these with a special way around the 'trix. Don't worry about making all the work yourself; I may not be touched by the Resonance (or whatever you guys call it), but I may help with the technical support.
To Blackjack: "Look, we will decide on each one's part in all this when the time come, and that will be when we get enough information on the target to draw a consistent plan. Not having a good shot may not be a problem: in this operation, if there's a need for wielding a gun, it will probably be a sign we already screwed the mission."
There's still 4 hours 'till the meeting. Ada sure as hell will enjoy a dessert here before going home to prepare herself; it's a good thing living nearby. And after all, she is feeling confident in doing all that she needs in the three hours just before the meeting.
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:01, Outside The Edge, Downtown, Elven District.
Conrad Johnson; PAN=Passive SIN: Arthur Jones, R. 3.
The nosebleed worried J so he proceeded to check Ironclad's aura.
Int 4 + Assensing 4 + Actively Looking 2 (10d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3204223/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:00, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
PAN Status: Still passive
SIN Status: Still Jenna McIntyre
Leigh gives her head a brief little shake, having been lost in thought. Sitting up, she reaches for her glass and downs the last of her dessert-wine, then smiles to Ada. "I've been dying to try the Red Velvet cake... it's definitely not typical asian or elven food, but the baker has brought his own western touches to the dessert menu, for a change." she replies. "Or if you're prefering something lighter, the Mango Sorbet I understand is quite good as well." Leigh adds, setting down her own menu.
At Ada's comment to Blackjack, Leigh nods quickly in agreement. "Can't plan until we have further information. Time will come, hopefully sooner rather than later." the elf adds.
When Talon's instant message comes up, Leigh smirks a little, looking to him across the table. "That sounds like something to discuss *after* the job, don't you think? Our time would be better spent digging up information and preparing ourselves.." comes her careful response, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:01, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp, PAN = Passive; SIN=Nicholas Spikings rt.4
@Dancer I thought that WAS preparing
Talon smirks at Dancer, "Red velvet cake does sound delicious, but do you think it would damage my girlish figure? Personally I don't have a whole lot of contacts, I was just going to case the place a little and see what I could dig up with my own two eyes. Anything beyond that is up to you all. I mostly hurt people, and look good doing it."
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:00, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Examining Sharp and Dancer is being somewhat fun, but Ada had not lost focus on the task at hand. When one of the waiters passes nearby, she asks for the Red Velvet cake. While waiting her order, she comments to Dancer: "I'm not a cake person myself, but the way you painted it, I need to try it."
-
Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:00, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
PAN Status: Still passive
SIN Status: Still Jenna McIntyre
Leigh manages to avoid rolling her eyes at Talons comment about his figure. "I'm sure you'll be fine... if you're worried, you can walk it off." she replies, tone amused and teasing. At Ada's own comment, the elf winks to her. "It might just turn you, with its rich decadence." Leigh adds, before ordering her own.
Turning her attentions back to Talon, the elf shrugs briefly. "Casing it seems like a good idea... having actual eyes-on can't hurt, and might give us information that we can't dig up via other ways. Just try not to get yourself shot up.." Leigh suggests. "I might just join you, although I have a few calls to make first... and I really don't want to head over there without getting changed first." the elf adds, glancing down at her skirtsuit. "I'll straight up say that this is not my usual preference for day to day fashion.."
((OOC: Who is still at the table? I know some peeps left, but I'm loosing track of that >.> ))
-
Eliza, J, Jackson Hart, Leigh, and Talon are still at the table.
I, too, was overwhelmed with stuff to do this weekend. Running a one-off at a small convention, a day with the parents in town, followed by a wedding and two receptions for it...
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:05, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
The desserts ordered by those still there appeared a few minutes later, every bit as rich and decadent as promised; soft, crumbly, and sweet with a combination of flavors you just couldn't get with soy.
J could plainly see that Ironclad had just received a jolt of pain, pretty serious pain but nothing actually damaging. It made him think of the drain he experienced when casting or summoning, but Ironclad was clearly mundane. Where did that come from?
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:10, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Over the next few minutes Ironclad's sprite starting sending back results. Rough matches at first, but eventually it found a picture of him in a press release by Mitsuhama Media from two years ago. He was standing behind a corp exec named Herman Mills, announcing their newest project, some reality trid about Urban Brawl participants. A little more digging unveiled a name: James Marsh. Marsh didn't appear to live in Seattle, though, at least not anymore - he moved to Japan over a year ago.
In the middle of the stream of data, Ironclad winced as it abruptly cut out. His sprite had just switched its search efforts to Japan when something halted the stream. This didn't feel like a coincidence.
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:12, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
With just a few minutes left until sundown, J's Spirit of Man rushed over to the hub. The aura of this place is weak, but not nonexistant. There is some magic here; it has left its mark, but it is weak enough that I cannot discern the original intent. So, there are astral signatures there. No man who knows the breath of magic is on the premises at this time. I see two unawakened men outside. They feel to me to be very disgruntled.
The sun descended past the horizon, and J felt his link with the spirit dissipating. Farewell. I am headed to rejoin my brethren. Perhaps I will join you again in the future.
-
Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:02 pm, Leaving The Edge, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Acitve (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
"Thanks, but I'll be fine. There was more of a kick than I was expecting."
Ironclad walked to the lot that held his bike. Time for work. I gotta go home and get dressed for this. He hopped onto the bike and buckled himself in. With a single command, the bike took off.
Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:10 pm, Waiting at a Traffic Light, Downtown district
Ironclad; PAN = Active (Meta Link), Hidden (Technomancer); SIN = Henry Fitzgerald rt.4 (Meta Link)
Ironclad waited for the light to turn green. The roads were packed this time of day, so the going was slow. Shit, at this rate, I'll only have about an hour, if I'm lucky, at home. The incoming data stream from the data had fed him a couple of details that he was sure he could capitalize upon when the stream cut out.
"What the fuck? Oh shit, it probably got caught." Ironclad sighs. "I'm sorry little one." The traffic light ahead of him turns green and he orders the bike ahead.
[@Everyone]I've got a few results back from the sprite I sent out. A couple of names, Herman Mills and James Marsh. It looks like the latter guy is our man, but he seems to have had a deal with the former around Urban Brawl. They were making a reality trid about it. Anyways, our guy seems to live outta Japan, but I couldn't get anymore info beyond that. My sprite's stopped transmitting, so it may have gotten caught out there.
Ironclad shifted in his seat slightly. It's gonna be a long trip. I hope it isn't gonna get too bumpy.
-
((Red will be Chinese for this post))
Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:10, The Edge, Downtown
Jackson; PAN = Passive; SIN RT4 Roan Linth
Jackson enjoyed his expensive cake slowly, just finishing it when the message from Ironclad came in. Nodding to himself and making a note, he stood up. "Well, ladies and gentleman, I need to go change into my work clothes and make a few calls. I'll see you all at the meeting point." he said, nodding to each before leaving. Once outside, he put a call in to his Triad contact. "Ling, shoot me a call when you're not busy. Looking to trade a favor for a favor." he messaged, sending it and closing the link, in case his superior was busy with other things. Doing the math, he figured he'd be able to get home in about half an hour, and would easily make the meet up at 10. Turning north, he all but raced home, doing his best not to draw any KE attention by speeding.
-
Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:30
After a short delay, Ling returned Jackson's call. "I'm listening, what did you have in mind, my friend?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:10, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
After calmly finishing her dessert, with a contempt face, Ada congratulates Dancer on her taste: "Oh, dear, that was amazing. I need to thank you for the advice."
She raises from her seat, look at the one's who are still at the table, and smile to them: "It was a delightful meeting. I'm glad to meet you all. Now, if you excuse me, there's some work that I shall do." That being said, the woman goes out.
Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:30, Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
The walk home was pleasant, but uneventful. Not even ten blocks separated The Edge from the Wylie's Gala Inn, at 4th Avenue and Pike Street. As soon as she enters her apartment, Eliza's PAN calls all the door bolts to be closed and the windows screens to isolated the place. There's some work to be done.
After changing into some more comfortable clothes (that wouldn't wrinkle as she lays on the sofa), she pulls the retractable cable that is plugged into her datajack and plugs it into Major, her special commlink. Operating through AR, she sends an encrypted message to Danielle's commcode ("If there's nothing impeding you right now, contact me as soon as possible. Send the time and node where we can meet to my dummy commcode, since this one will be unavailable for a few moments. Kisses.") before turning off the wireless feature of the Major commlink. Then she plugs the datafile Leather Face gave her on it.
Time to see what's possible to learn about the goal.
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:30, Jackson's Home, Everette, Seattle
Jackson; PAN = Passive; Broadcasting Roan Linth, RT4
Leaning back in his chair, having eaten a good meaty sandwich, the delivery boy grinned. "Thank you for your timely response, boss. I have been approached with a job, and would like to know if you knew anything about this man..or if you knew anyone who might." he said, nodding to the Triad leader with respect, sending the details to him that Iron sent to him. "One of my teammates said he worked for a Japcorp on some reality show, but I wanted to see if I could get more info on him. Also on the location we're hitting. Don't want ti cause any trouble for my wonderful benefactors, after all." he continued, sending the location on as well, but not the rest of the job info.
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:30
Ling looked off into the distance, as if searching for a memory on the horizon. "James Marsh... No, I don't think I've heard that name before. I can check around, though." He downloaded and saved a copy of the press release photo and the names attached. "What sort of information on the location are you seeking? I don't believe we have any business dealings in that area, if that's what you're asking."
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:30, Wylie's Gala Inn,4th Avenue and Pike Street, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Major reported the contents of the datastick
Autosender [Program (Agent)]
Message [Encrypted]
Message Recipient A [Encrypted]
Surveillance Photo 2.10.72 16:03 [Image]
Surveillance Photo 2.10.72 16:40 [Image]
Surveillance Photo 2.11.72 01:04 [Image]
Surveillance Photo 2.12.72 08:01 [Image]
Surveillance Photo 2.12.72 11:03 [Image]
Surveillance Photo 2.12.72 16:20 [Image]
As it listed the contents, it displayed an alert that a program on the datastick (the agent by the name of Autosender) was requesting permission to run. A lesser commlink would have simply allowed it to run, but Eliza's customized interface was a little less carefree.
All files had been copied to the stick around 11AM the same day. No data bombs were detected. The agent was loaded with a low-level Encrypt program and a high-level Stealth program.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:30, Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Autistic (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
So that's it: for the look of things (surveillance photos?), it smells of blackmail. But why just imagine when you can be sure?
It's not just curiosity; it's the power that comes in knowing what you're doing. Eliza needed to know the contents of the message that someone was paying 28 thousand nuyen to send anonymously. The girl rejected the agent permission, and prepared herself to work.
Assuming a more comfortable position, the girl mentally switches Major to operate from VR. The same mental command also disables the protections that, in legal sim module, would be impossible to put down. Now she dives into Virtual Reality at digital speed, her synapses lighting up due to being so close to raw information. If you needed to work, might as well enjoy it!
Her persona stood next to the message icon. The icon she is using for her own seems like a woman with electronic paths running through her skin. The silicon woman reached for the encrypt message.
Into the lone digital landscape, a voice is heard, just as the woman starts juggling with data. "Initiate Cryptanalysis".
Initiate Cryptanalysis test = 3 (Electronic Warfare) + 5 (Decrypt) + 2 (Hot Sim) + 2 (Encephalon 2) + 2 (Math SPU) = 14 dice
First test: 14 dice = 3 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3206938/)
Second test: 14 dice = 5 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3207738/) - 8 hits so far
Third test: 14 dice = 5 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3207739/) - 13 hits so far
I think that's enough (could have beaten an encryption level 6); if it's not, tell me then I will keep rolling.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:31, Jackson's Home, Everette, Seattle
Jackson; PAN = Passive; Broadcasting Roan Linth, RT4
"A little of both, sir. Wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be screwing with any Triad business. Any information would be wonderful, and I'll pay you back in double the favors. The pay's not great on this one, but I can feel a door opening." Jackson told his underboss, smiling. "If I swing this right, it could mean better business for you and me. So, floorplans, guard rotation, fake entrance IDs, anything you might be able to swing with out getting in to much trouble. Don't want to lose my favorite higher up, neh?" he said with a smirk.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:10, The Edge, Elven District, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
PAN Status=Passive
SIN Status=Jenna McIntyre
With the table breaking up, 'Jenna' decides to make her way home as well. Standing, she offers those still remaining a careful smile. "Good luck, boys and girls. I'll see you all at twenty-two hundred." the elf comments, before easing away from the table, and heading out.
Stepping out of the resteraunt, 'Jenna' gazes around for a moment cautiously. As she does this, she messages the local taxi service for a cab, then briefly reviews Ironclad's e-mail. James Marsh.. Herman Mills. Neither name seems familiar. I'll have to send out a few feelers, I think. she ponders to herself.
After several minutes, the cab she orders arrives, and within another fifteen minutes of struggling through traffic the cab drops her off in front of her apartment building. After paying her bill, and leaving a tip, the elf steps out of the cab and into her building; at the same time, sending a message to her home cpu to increase the temperature and start a pot of coffee.
Monday February 15, 2072; ~19:00, Apartment of Jenna McIntyre, Auburn District.
PAN Status = Passive
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
After a shower and a change of clothes, into something much more comfortable, Leigh settles into the ultra-comfortable beanbag chair that she has in her living room, in front of the plasma television. Commlink in her lap, the elf wears a pair of image-link glasses rather than the contacts, which were begining to strain her eyes.
After a moment of thought, Leigh composes several messages; the first, addressed to Lieutenant Tallows, KE, and signed off with the name Jenna.
Salutations, girly! How're things at Home? Hoping you have some time to chat with an old chummer... looking for some information. @home, you know how to contact me.
(Note: the first referal to Home in the post to Lieutenant Tallows is refering to the Precinct she works at)
The second message goes out to someone named Kasey, this one signed 'Dancer'.
Omae. Looking for some info, will pay the usual rate. NeoNet on 19th. Anything interesting? Also: James Marsh, Herman Mills. Drop me a line.
Finally, the last message, somewhat more familiarly written, to a 'Daniel', from Leigh.
Hey bro, hows home and the little ones? Yeah, I know, you're thinking I usually come to you for information, and I'll admit this time isn't much differant. Sorry! What do you know about a couple of gents, Herman Mills and James Marsh; they were with Mitsuhama a few years back, but looking for more recent. Pass on love and hugs to Grace and Anthony, and say hi to Gloria for me. Will have to do lunch next week, right? Thanks!
(Daniel being her brother Contact, Grace and Anthony being his kids, and Gloria his wife, whom Leigh rather dislikes :D)
Messages sent out, Leigh sighs and settles back, resting her head against the sopha and closing her eyes. Havn't dealt much with NeoNet or Mitsuhama, so I feel like I'm walking around in the dark here. Hope this goes well.. a nexus seems like it would be fairly well guarded. Interesting group, though. That Talon guy is cute, if a little on the flirty side. Ada too.. she thinks, then chuckles softly to herself.
Re-opening the map in her image-link, Leigh frowns to herself in thought as she studies it. "Not familiar with the Ork Underground much, but I think I've been to that military hangout... hopefully I'll run into Blackjack and he'll guide me to the meeting place.." the elf murmurs to herself, thinking outloud as it were.
-
Talon stands from the table and offers a slight bow to those remaining and heads for the door. Time to head home, gotta get changed and ready to work. Talon rings the local cab company and flags down a taxi, waiting on the curb doing a little people watching. As the cab approaches he enters smoothly, and gives his address, its in the seedy part of downtown. As the taxi pulls up, Talon pays his tab, and heads upstairs. One of these days I'll be able to afford a nicer place... if this Leatherface works out, might get me there. Talon enters his apartment, secures the door, and gets ready for the meet before the job. Not much else I can do. I doubt Tony or JT would know anything about a NeoNET facility... But I have plenty of time, I should get a workout in...
-
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:31, Jackson's Home, Everette, Seattle
Ling thought for a moment. "Even if we don't have any business there directly, some of our friends might. I wouldn't normally do this, but I know how good your favors are, so I'll see if I can find anything. I'll get back to you if I do."
Monday, February 15, 2072; 18:33; Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza's cryptanalysis first revealed the recipient of the message, one Jonas Killian. A cursory trace on the commlink ID revealed that it was registered under a well-known Horizon shell company.
A little bit later the message itself was decrypted. The message header indicated that it came from Horizon as well - but this one from the main corporation, not a shell company. Orders from a higher-up? Or at least that's what it was supposed to look like. The message was a video file. A square-jawed man wearing horn-rimmed glasses appeared in front of a full bookcase.
"Jonas, the time is now," he said sternly. "Be ready to receive the shipment tonight at 6PM. Here's the address…" The man proceeded to give an address somewhere in the Snohomish district. "This is the big one, Jonas; don't miss it."
There are more details about the video you might notice; make a Perception check if you'd like to try.
Monday, February 15, 2072; 20:00
Of Dancer's messages, the first to get a response was Kasey. Don't know about the others, she said tersely, But I've seen that Mills guy before. When I saw him, of course, his name was Mr. Johnson… One of my runners did a job for him a couple of years ago. Somewhere around the time of that press release, maybe. I seem to recall him being duplicitous as hell on details, but he did pay off in the end. You can pay me for this next time I see you."
Monday, February 15, 2072; 21:30
Daniel Stark sent back a reply a little later. Hey, I was at a dinner party, sorry it took so long to get back to you. I don't think I've heard the names before, sorry sis. Lunch sounds great, but I'm flying out on business Friday. Unless you happen to be in London next week too, we might have to take a raincheck on that. Week after, maybe? Love from the family!"
-
Monday, February 15, 2072; 18:33; Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
There are more details about the video you might notice; make a Perception check if you'd like to try.
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:33, Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Autistic (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Some names spinned into Eliza's mind as she concentrated on the video: James Marsh (Leather Face), Herman Mills (His partner into doing an Urban Brawl Reality Show, according to Ironclad's research), Jonas Killian, Horizon... A lot of pieces on this jigsaw puzzle...
Without letting her mind wander too far, she kept her attention on the video.
4 (Computer) + 5 (Analyze Program) + 2 (Encephalon 2) + 2 (Hot Sim) = 13 dice
13 dice = 4 hits, no glitch (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3211274/)
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Monday, February 15, 2072; 18:33; Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza replayed the video, looking closely at every detail. The man was middle-aged, with slight traces of crow's feet around his eyes. His hair was a pale brunette, slicked back against his head. He appeared to be sitting at a desk, though the desk itself was out of the view of the camera. The bookshelf he sat in front of was unusual - who still uses books? In most fields they were just obsolete, especially in a new, modern corporation like Horizon. The resolution wasn't high enough to make out most of the titles of the books, but one of them, a huge tome at least two inches wide, was legible: "AAA Corporation Legalities and Precedent, 2010-2050". Sounded like something in a lawyer's arsenal.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~18:34, Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
It was always a pity, but Eliza's persona took a deep breath and the digital world around her faded. The girl opened her eyes: somehow, she was always a bit surprised when she returned looking the world using them again. The horn-rimmed glassed man face was still imprinted into her visual field.
She stores a picture of the supposed Horizon Lawyer into her commlink, and then disconnects the datastick. Only then she allowed Major to reach for the wireless Matrix again.
Digging into a job details could be considered bad form, but it was worth the risk; Eliza now knows that, whatever it is that they are about to do, the repercussions are to be big.
An ARO in her glasses flashes the current hour, and tells her that just four minutes passed since she sent a message to her mother. Eliza instructs the Meta Link to redirect any message to Major. She hopes Danielle would call her soon.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:30, Ork Underground, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Dirk walked down the dirty and slick ferroconcrete steps towards the metal double doors that served as the access point to the Ork Underground. The doors were battered and scratched, easily visible under the bright sodium halide lights mounted overhead. The lights were encased in a thick metal cage to prevent vandalism. It probably wouldn't stand up to a shot from a heavy pistol, but it was more than enough to protect against rocks and bottles. Nobody in their right mind would shoot a firearm outside in the Downtown district, and anyone with a silenced weapon probably had more important targets in mind.
After reading the message about our new Johnson, he mentally checked through his contacts, trying to think if any of them might be helpful. There was always his street doc, who would have been helpful maybe 10 years ago when he was one of the prime docs in town. He was a loser now, and therefore wouldn't know squat. His snake shaman contact, Lafayette, might prove useful, as she was always a broker of secrets. Unfortunately, he didn't trust her enough to run a Johnson. She was the one to call to get dirt on the local Humanis Policlub chapter president, where there was little risk of blow-back. His gang contacts with the Skraachas wouldn't provide anything useful, at least not on the Johnson. However, they might very well know more about the tunnels below the target.
Dirk walked into the Skraacha den, pounding on the doorframe on his way in. It wouldn't really have mattered if he'd fired a Panther assault cannon at that moment due to the volume of the music. Something new from Orkman Thundermetal, if he wasn't mistaken. Sounded like a bunch of cannons fired in a tight sequence to resemble percussion, with a monster truck driving over a mountain of cars for melody. The room was empty. He thumbed the biometric lock on his locker and grabbed his weapons. He noticed the empty pizza boxes on the sofa and laughed, for there was a bitemark on the lid of one of the boxes. Looks like someone arrived late for dinner.
An albino ork ganger named Snowman walked into the room. They met fists in greeting, and he turned off the music. The whole place seemed to thrum with a life of its own even without the music, likely from the constant cars and pedestrian traffic moving mere meters above their heads.
"Oy, Snowman, I need to ask you something about the local topography. You got a couple minutes to go for a walk? Need you to help verify a couple things. There's 25 cred in it for your time, 75 more if you know anything useful."
Snowman had spent nearly his whole life in the Ork Underground, in that his albino skin simply couldn't handle the sun due to the near depletion of the ozone layer, even in Seattle's constantly overcast sky. The acid rain probably didn't help things either. There were few people who knew more about the hidden tunnels, sewers, and access points than him. He showed Snowman the satellite picture of the NeoNET nexus and asked him if he knew anything helpful about that section of the Underground. They headed off in that direction, after Snowman slotted the credstick with the 25 nuyen on it of course.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:35, Public Transportation, Downtown Seattle
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings Rt.4
Talon heads out of his apartment, locks up, and heads downtown on public transportation. Better get some work done
Talon steps off the bus a few blocks away from the NeoNET Nexus and starts walking, scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary, and any increased security presence. Doubt there will be much change this far out, but any security feeds will be checked if we are seen inside... As he comes into view of the actual target he looks for someplace he could take some time to watch and wait. Ahh stake outs... Finding an empty room in an adjacent building Talon sets up shop and starts clocking everything he can see across the street.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~21:30, Apartment of Jenna McIntyre, Auburn District.
PAN Status = Passive
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
After a short nap, Jenna checks her messages; the former, from Kasey, was a bit surprising but potentially usefull. The latter, from her brother, somewhat less so. Dashing off a quick reply of thanks to both (along with mentioning it being unlikely she'd be in London next week), Leigh quickly slips into some comfortably clothing. Buckling on her Savalette Guardian under her greatcoat, the elf tucks a knife into her boot, then loads her SMG and a number of other items into a locking rucksack (list at end) before slinging it across one shoulder.
Knowing that it will take some time to get to the meeting place, the elf books it down the stairs to the parking area beneath the building, mounting up on her Monocycle and pulling out onto the street.
Notable Gear: Survival knife, Savalette Guardian heavy pistol (3 clips regular ammo), Ingram Smartgun X (3 clips regular ammo), Greatcoat and form-fit body armor
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:30, Ork Underground, Downtown
"Been a while, chummer. How've you been?" Snowman greeted Dirk's fist bump. "I'm meeting someone in a bit, but yeah I suppose I could lend my services. What'd ya need?"
Monday February 15, 2072; 18:35, Office building near NeoNET Nexus
Talon's stakeout location was an abandoned office building, an old building once used by a small corporation that was killed by the Crash. Someone had long since gutted anything valuable from the place, and squatters now lived in the basement and first floor. The rest of the four-story building was usually completely empty.
It was located near the a front corner of the NeoNET Nexus. (Where it says "US Post Office" on the map) The security of the place, at least as far as could be discerned, looked to be pretty much as advertised. Two guards out front, concrete wall running all the way around. Talon settled in and watched.
Perception check, please. How long do you plan to stay in that location?
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:45, Wylie's Gala Inn, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
There was yet time, but sitting idle would not accomplish anything. And, after all, it was the Ork Underground that they would be visiting, so Eliza thought a change in her appearance was called for.
The black jumpsuit usually didn't appear out of place: a lot of couriers wore something similar; but with a synthetic leather jacket put on, it seemed even more casual. The jacket also hid the cable who sprung out of her datajack and into Major, tied to her back. Completing the hidden inventory, a holster carrying ECT, her trust taser.
The make-up was toned down a lot, and the AR one was completely dispensed. Into a small bag she put a flashlight, medkit, her shock gloves and her hardware toolkit. The last action is to attach the biomonitor to her wrist, and order it's readings to be constantly fed into her periferic visual field.
Still three hours to spend. Still waiting to see if Danielle will call back. But ready for anything yet.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 18:35, Ork Underground, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Dirk and Snowman walked through the underground tunnels, past various street vendors set up in alcoves, selling everything from sizzling curry soy dogs and cheap synthahol-based scotch knockoffs to ammo and sketchy-looking holdout pistols. All legal, of course, at least according to the hand-made signs posted to the durapane glass shields protecting the proprietors. There were, of course, no RFID tags or cameras anywhere in the area. People down here valued (and protected) their privacy. The lighting was generally very good, if not a little harsh. The Skraacha had done a good job maintaining these systems, especially considering the state they were in after the Night of Rage. Snowman worked as a technician on many of these systems, and had done extensive work on maintaining the tunnels as well.
After a brief 20-minute walk, they arrived at the area near the military bar where several of the tunnels came together. There were abandoned tunnels running throughout the whole area, some containing abandoned utility lines, others collapsed by the military to protect their base, others simply clogged with a light blockage of debris that could be removed in short time should the need arise. The lighting here was dim, nowhere near the illumination of the main tunnel systems downtown.
"We're here. Snowman, I need you to take a look at the coordinates of a surface building and tell me anything you can about what's under it or nearby in the Underground. If there's an access point, it would be greatly helpful. We've been hired to do a security analysis by the building owner, you know, so they can improve their security measures." Blackjack winked at Snowman, who grinned back.
"I'll be tracking location points using my orientation system, just in case we can't tell exactly what's above us. I know how you just love poking your head up to the surface to get some sun, ha ha."
Blackjack sent the satellite map with the navigation overlay to Snowman's PAN. After a brief moment looking at his commlink's display screen, Snowman frowned and started walking into the dim light of the far tunnels, pointing a small flashlight into the darkness to aid his natural low-light vision. Blackjack kept one eye on his map with a little moving dot representing his current location. He'd head to the surface to cross-check coordinates once they found out if there was anything worth looking into.
Skill test for navigation:
Navigation (1) + Orientation System (+2) + Int (4) = 7 dice (7d6.hits(5)=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3220471/)
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Monday February 15, 2072; 19:00, Ork Underground, Tacoma
"Oh, I know where this is. Army bar, Tacoma, near that area... yeah, I'm almost certain that comes up just inside Stonewall. That bar's not the only place packed full of army slots - ton of 'em live in that neighborhood. The landlord there gives 'em some kinda deal on their rent I think."
Dirk checked his mapsoft. "Stonewall" was the name given to the neighborhood just west of the Nexus. The entrance must be a couple blocks further south than the original prediction. What a difference those blocks made - if this was an army neighborhood, that changed the game plan significantly. Better be sure not to cross the neighborhood watch.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 19:00, Public Transportation, Downtown Seattle
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings Rt.4
Perception Test (8d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3220766/)
Talon continues to observe and take notes. This drek sure is boring...
@Dancer So any useful intel? I got a nice cozy office building across the street if you want to keep me company. Watching the security, see if I can find any patterns through which I might be able to infiltrate. I bet you'd work as a great distraction. I doubt I'll be able to get much in the next few hours, but anything can happen.
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Monday, February 15, 2072, 18:31, Jackson's home, Everette, Seattle
Jackson; PAN=Passive SIN: Roan Linth Rt4
He nodded. "How ever you can help would be most apperciated, my dear boss. Just know that I'm on a tight time table for this job." he told him respectfully, bowing his head before saying farewell and closing the conversation, deciding to meditate before he had to leave, making sure he had his armored clothes and shock gloves ready to go as soon as he had to leave.
Jackson would easily make it on time, hoping his boss could come back with something of use.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:00, Office building near NeoNET Nexus
Talon was having a rough time staving off the boredom. Stakeouts had to be done, but there was so much tedium. The two guards at the front had just swapped out for their replacements when he noticed something else: movement in a car a little ways down the street. Wait a second... how long had that car been there? He couldn't quite be sure... had it been there since he set up?
Memory test if you'd like.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:00, Public Transportation, Downtown Seattle
Sharp; PAN=Passive SIN: Nicholas Spikings Rt.4
Memory Test (5d6.hits(5)=0) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3223238/) ((I am evidently not even sure where I am right now ))
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Monday February 15, 2072; 19:00, Ork Underground, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Blackjack had thanked Snowman for his help and slotted him the additional 75 creds.
Hmmm, a residential Army neighborhood? That might be good, and it might be trouble. Gotta think of some way to use that to our advantage. If things get hot and we're making our way to the Underground access point without drawing too much local attention, any security forces will sure as heck think twice before chasing after us with guns blazing. Might buy us enough time to get to the tunnels.
Blackjack walked up to the stairway up to the surface, a set of metal stairs leading to double doors. Opening the doors, he walked out into the small lobby of a former municipal building, probably a pump station at some point in the distant past. He noted the walk-up counter with the shattered glass window, dark and obviously not in use any longer. According to the faded paper signs posted to the inside of the booth this was where people used to pay their utility bills, back when folks used paper money. There was still some worn out furniture in the lobby, a couple plastic molded chairs that were fortunate (unfortunate?) enough to be bolted to the floor. They were covered in what could only be described as.. filth. There was another door into the rest of the facility, but it was completely sealed shut and the handle was removed. The rest of the facility was likely still in use, probably just an equipment station manned by a dog-brain computer.
Walking out the duroplex doors (the glass was long since replaced) into the neighborhood, it was much as he'd expected. Lots of ferroconcrete apartments, built in neat straight rows. Hell, it even looked like it should house military families. The pump station was on the edge of a small park, complete with swings and a playground for the local kids.
This neighborhood shouldn't have a nice playground like this, it should have graffiti and trash everywhere and be full of vagrants. Most neighborhoods in this district have Knight Errand patrols constantly kicking BTL addicts and hookers out of the parks at night. This place is deserted.
Neighborhood watch, indeed.
Blackjack adjusted the settings on his orientation system and overlaid the satellite map onto his tracking map from the Ork Underground below. He now had confidence as to how all the geographical pieces fit together. He walked toward the NeoNET Nexus, checking his map for accuracy and taking notes of landmarks along the way. Once he had the Nexus building in sight, he took his 4 Dragonfly drones out of their protective case and had them circle the area, transmitting location data, landmarks, and optical images back to his PAN. He stepped back into the shadows and gave them several minutes to gather data. Dirk began walking back to the pump station, mapping out their escape route as he walked. He entered the Ork Underground once again, and walked the quarter mile or so to the gambling club that would hopefully act as their safehouse for the next two nights. The route was twisted and convoluted, just as he'd planned. It would be nearly impossible to follow them, assuming they followed the directions he provided.
Int(4) + Street Knowledge(2) + Spec: Ork Underground(+2) (8d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3225199/)
He walked quickly, as he wanted to get the safehouse set up prior to meeting with the rest of the team at Roasted Beans for their rendezvous.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:00, Ork Underground, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Dirk walked through the arch-topped brick entryway into the gambling parlor known as the "Grey Room". It was named partially due to the decor inside, and partially due to the color of the walls. The place was set up as a long, narrow room extending back from the entrance, as though it was built inside a tunnel of sorts. It had a high ceiling dotted with metal ceiling fans. All the furniture was made of brushed metal, as were the card tables. There were a dozen round tables in the narrow room, each with approximately 8 chairs. There was enough room to pass by the tables and chairs on either side, forming two rough walkways. The cinderblock walls were painted in a thick coating of matte grey material, which was extremely sound absorbent, as well as light absorbent.
Along the walls, there were several doorways leading to side rooms. One of them was obviously a kitchen, as there was a waitress hustling drinks and snacks out to the various patrons. Another was the manager's office, which had a heavy metal door next to a window fitted with reinforced duraplex and window blinds. Blackjack knew that this room could be locked down in an instant should there be a need, and that there was a secondary escape route for the manager which would no doubt lead to a disused and well-disguised tunnel elsewhere in the Underground. There were several more rooms further down the hall, their doorways shrouded in darkness. More than one of them had an armed guard standing outside, for groups that wanted both privacy as well as security.
Dirk walked past the bouncer, who gave him a quick scan with a GloWand to check for magic. Finding none, he waved him in. They weren't interested in weapons here, just making sure that they kept an eye on mages who might try to cheat.
He walked into the manager's office, and spoke to Grinder, the owner's son. He was an ork in his early 20's, and was small for being an ork. He had shifty eyes that seemed to appraise everything around him, as though trying to determine how much collateral a customer might have even before it was needed. He knew Dirk on sight, features brightening noticeably. The place was much emptier than usual, indicating that business wasn't going very well.
"Hola chummer Grinder, how goes the biz? I'm looking to book one of your private rooms for the next 36 hours. Needs to have matrix access. There'll be 7 of us. I can guarantee we'll spend 100 nuyen each on food and drink, plus I'll throw in 300 for the table fee. 1000 nuyen total, 300 up front. You game?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:45, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb, PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
Ealier than the meeting time, but drinking a cappucino at a coffeeshop would be better than waiting without a thing to do at home; also, most of her errands (info collection, contacts, etc) could be done there, it was not like she was coding something.
After browsing the cooffee menu, Ada orders throught her PAN a double expresso: she has the time to savour one. The table into which she seats does not seem to be able to hold seven commensals, but it would be strange to stay one entire hour alone at one that could; she planned to move to another one when the others arrive (which she instructed her commlink to detect when their PANs were in close proximity).
Danielle hadn't answered yet. That was a little bit disturbing. Had something happened to her? Unlikely, but not impossible at all; chances are that she was busy at work (and when Danielle was at work, it was never a good idea for the two of them to be communicating - a chance to be tracked? No, thanks!)
When her expresso arrives, there's not much more to do than to wait for an answer or for the others, so Eliza enjoy her time watching the other clients.
Eliza is wearing her Urban Explorer Jumpsuit, a leather jacket and glasses. Even though couriers would normally use the hair tied into a ponytail, she let it loose, as to hide the cable which runs from the datajack at the base of her skull and into the Major commlink, hidden by her jacket.
She carries a bag with a flashlight, her medkit, shock gloves, the datastick Leather Face gave her, some empty RFID tags and her hardware kit. Also in it three micro-drones rest inactive and a loaded taser spare clip can be found. A concealed holster carries her taser.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:55, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
PAN Status = Passive
After parking in a nearby underground lot, Jenna made her way into the Coffee Shop, pausing just inside for a moment to check out the crowd, see if there was anyone she recognized. A slight smile as she spots Ada sitting at one of the smaller tables. After ordering a drink via her PAN (extra-large hot chocolate with a sprinkle of real cinnamon), she approaches the table, lifting her left hand in greeting.
"Mind if I join you?" she inquires, one hand on the back of one of the vacant chairs, while at the same time lowering her rucksack to the floor.
Navy blue synth-wool turtleneck, old-school style black denim jeans, calf-high leather boots (flats), greatcoat. Hair loose, with a synth-wool headband for ear warmth. Looking much less like a corp exec and much more like a typical city dweller.
OOC: Apologies, I've neen caught up with RL the past week... surprisingly busy for someone unemployed :(
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:55, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb("Ada"), PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
"Not at all, Jenna." Ada smiles at Dancer. "Your company pleases me a lot. Please, have a seat."
Eliza takes her time observing Dancer. The difference is remarkable; this woman surely is versatile in her looks. A moment later, Ada remembers her own figure on the mirror, and wonders if someone who had watched they both as they ate some hour ago would recognize them now.
After a sip of coffee, the girl comments: "I believe we will have to wait for the others a little. We are quite ahead of the schedule." She rests her chin on her hands and smile at the other woman. She directs a message to Dancer's PAN: "Do you think this place is secure for we to talk?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:55, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
PAN Status = Passive
A brief, playful wink as Leigh settles into the chair across from Ada and setting her drink down. "I'm glad to hear that, you do as well." she remarks, sinserely. "How are you holding up? I wasn't sure how long we'd be out tonight so I made a point of catching a few zees." Legh adds, seeming decently alert.
"Any good news?" the elf enquires, resting her head against one hand, elbow on the table. "I heard back from one aquaintence.. the news wasn't horrible, but it didn't help boost my confidence any."
In response to the private message, Leigh takes a quickly, brief glance around before responding in kind: "It doesn't seem particularly busy in here, but any serious discussion might want to wait."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:55, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb("Ada"), PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
"I agree. So we will need to just relax a little bit."
The otherwise happy face of Ada takes an almost serious tone just for a moment, as she answers "I can't say I got good news even... I was hoping to get some good info, but my particular angel does not seem to be able to call me back today."
Her girlish face enlightens with a smile once more. "It could be worse. I guess we will need to accept the situation as it is, anyway."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 20:57 Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Jackson Hart PAN= passive "Roan Linth" SIN rt.4
A few minutes after the first two show up, a well tuned motor cycle pulled into the parking lot, it's rider getting off and removing his helmet, showing the other two shadowrunners that it was Jackson. Nodding to them, he casually slid up to the counter, waiting in line to get something to drink before heading over. "Evening, ladies. I see the rest of our group haven't shown yet. Tis a shame to leave such fine women waiting," he says, sitting in a free chair with his simple mocha with whipped cream, using the playfull banter to mask why he was there to anyone curious.
"I do hope they show soon. Wouldn't be a proper party, no?" he asked, taking a sip.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 21:00 Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp PAN= passive "Nicholas Spikings" SIN rt.4
Talon sighs and checks the time, still have an hour before the meeting... @Dancer So what are you up to? Anything new? Do you have ANY idea how bored I am right now? Static surveillance is not my strong suit...
Monday February 15, 2072; 21:45 Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp PAN= passive "Nicholas Spikings" SIN rt.4
Talon walks around the corner in view of the coffee shop, jogging across the street and entering nonchalantly, quickly offering his order, and walking over to the table, smiling cheerfully. "Finally time to do something, was so tired of sitting around waiting. How has the conversation been? Anyone got anything new to share?" Winking at Dancer as he takes a seat.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~21:45, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Eliza Gebb("Ada"), PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
"The talk was quite enjoyable; join us, please. There's nothing really worth mentioning about the businnes, though." At the exact same time in which Ada answers Sharp, a message is sent to his PAN "Job talk will have to wait 'till we got into a more secure place. Even though, it's better to discuss it when everything arrives. We can just relax a little."
"I believe there's some minutes yet until everyone get here; I hope you don't find waiting with me, Roan and Jenna as tiresome as waiting alone." Ada comments, in a kidding tone.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~21:45, Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
PAN Status = Passive
SIN Status = Jenna McIntyre
Dancer nods to Ada, reaching for her own drink and taking a sip, savouring the fake-chocolate taste. "Similar results here; either I'm talking to the wrong people, or I'm asking the wrong questions. Most I got was indications of a lack of reliability." she offers, shrugging a little.
"It indeed could be. Hopefully the others have more to go on. I don't mind going in too blind, but... not my preference." Jenna adds with a little chuckle.
As Roan arrives, she offers him a smile, then shrugs. "I enjoy Ada's company, so no hardship here." she replies, winking to the other female before reaching out to scoop up a finger of the whipped cream from Roans drink and suckling it off of the digit. "Its getting close to ten though, they better not be late."
When Talon joins them, Jenna shifts over a bit to give him space at the smaller table. "Sorry I didn't respond to your messages earlier, Tal, I was napping." she apologizes, her tone amused. "And as Ada mentioned, nothing really new to add. Hopefully the others had better luck."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 21:57 Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Jackson Hart PAN= passive "Roan Linth" SIN rt.4
Jackson blinked, the flirtatious move by Jenna taking him off guard, the smuggler shaking his head a little bit before taking a sip. "So, any ideas as to what's playing tonight? Hoping we'll see a thriller or spy movie over an action mocie myself." he said, doing his best to recover from the slight fluster the tease had caused.
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Monday February 15, 2072; 21:45~ Roasted Beans Coffee Shop, Seattle Downtown, UCAS
Sharp PAN= passive "Nicholas Spikings" SIN rt.4
"Too bad I wasn't invited to enjoy your nap" Talon yawns and sighs heavily, then slyly makes a beautiful flower appear in his hand and offers it to Dancer with a wink and a smile. "I grow them myself, its quite therapeutic. These are the only ones I could convince to live long enough to bloom"
]Monday February 15, 2072; 21:57
Talon finishes his brew, and stands offering his hands to Dancer and Ada, "Shall we ladies?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 22:00, Roasted Beans coffee shop, Downtown
Dirk Blackwater; PAN=Passive SIN: Shin Shoryuken Rt.4
Walking into the coffee shop, Dirk heads directly for the counter and orders a black coffee with an extra shot of expresso. He knows that this isn't real coffee, but is made from a synthetic coffee bean based on soy that's a rude approximation of the real thing. At least it has lots and lots of caffeine.
Dirk walks over to the table where the other runners are seated. Waiting for a break in the conversation, he says in a deep voice:
"Hola chummers.. looks like we're all here. Let's go."
Dirk gives a quick nod towards the door, and walks outside. The entrance to the Underground wasn't far away. Dirk sees the rest of the team get up and follow him. He walks down the stairwell to the double doors, pushes them open, and waves the team inside.
After what seems to be an impossibly long walk through a maze of twists and turns, they arrive at the safehouse known as the "Grey Room." Grinder meets them at the door, and the young ork wordlessly waves off the bouncer and walks them back to the private room. The soundproofed and sound absorbent walls make footfalls die instantly, making dull clicking sounds where an echoing clatter would be expected. The room is small but neat, with a round poker table in the middle set up with 10 chairs around it. Along one wall there was a pair of canvas cots set up. A plastic cooler sat along the adjoining wall, full of ice and bottled water.
Blackjack slotted Grinder's credstick and transferred the promised 300 creds, and gave him another 50 to order some food to get things started. Grinder bowed and left the room Immediately, calling over a waitress and giving her the order before closing the door behind him.
"I paid for the table fee, but I promised him that we'd spend 100 creds each on food and drinks over the next 36 hours. I hope everyone's ok with the arrangements."
Dirk sends everyone the revised map of both the aboveground facility and the underground escape route back to the safehouse, then sits at the table and folds his synthetic hands in front of him, waiting for the others to sit and get comfortable.
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Monday February 15, 2072; ~22:0, The Grey Room, Ork Underground, UCAS
Eliza Gebb("Ada"), PAN = Passive (Meta Link), Hidden (Major); Broadcasting Ada Byron SIN rt.4
"I'm cool with the arrangement; the place is not necessarily my habitat, but it seems appropriate." Ada's gaze scans the room. So far, so good, she thinks. Then, she chooses a sit, and after stretching her arms a little, comments: "But I really hope they have something not synthetic to eat. I can't stand soy-food."
After a little while, she shares some news with the others:
"Well, guys, I was really not lucky in getting any info about the Matrix security of the place; my contact has been strangely quiet all these hours." Ada seems really concerned about that, but when she starts talking again, her more serious demeanor has already given place to a joyful and playful face: "Are you familiar with working with a Tactical Network Software?"
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Monday February 15, 2072; 22:00, The Grey Room, Ork Underground, UCAS
Jackson Hart PAN= passive "Roan Linth" SIN rt.4
"I know I don't. Never had a use for it, and I'm augment free. Had a doctor look at me when I went in for a check up to get an internal 'link, and he strongly advised against it. Apparently my immune system has a bit of a hate for stuff that's not actually me." he said, nodding. "That, and I'm usually working alone. I'm just a simple courier, after all." Jackson told Eliza with a wink. "So either someone's gonna have to loan me the program for my 'link, though I might be better off with out something extra confusing the drek out of me."
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Monday February 15, 2072; 22:01, The Grey Room, Ork Underground, UCAS
Sharp PAN= passive "Nicholas Spikings" SIN rt.4
Talon steps into the room and runs a finger across the table. "Not exactly sanitary... but it will do" Rubbing his fingers together Talon plops his pack on the table, and begins relaying what information he gathered. "I don't have any sources in Seattle... at least none who would have information about my work. But I did spend several hours watching the security on the building. Nothing spectacular happened, just watched a shift change and a patrol. Can't really see much from outside. But if anyone needs a place to sleep, I found a nice empty office building with very few occupants."
Talon takes a seat, and kicks back, feet up on the table. "As far as tacnets, I've used them in the past. Still have the software. Very useful, helps a lot. Requires participation from multiple members of a group, so I hope a few of you have the sensors to provide some information to the tacnet."