Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Lysanderz on <01-09-12/2213:18>
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The gray skies of Seattle were something of a constant, but the heavy downpour that seemed to soak even the most prepared businessmen walking down the sidewalks was something that only occurred occasionally. Thunder claps, lightning flashes, all quite beautiful in their own morose way on the evening. Of course, this evening was about business and not sightseeing for those who got the pings on their comms, signifying that their presence was requested. The call was not entirely unexpected, recent hostilities brewing in the underworld had everyone on edge and work was plenty for people with certain talents. Yakuza and Mafia connections had never been friendly, but now with the tempo surge behind them they had returned their focus to killing each other and disputing old territorial lines. It was a hobby they had returned to eagerly, both seeking to prove dominance over the other like bullies on the playground in a dispute and causing everyone else to become casualties.
Work may have been steady for everyone else, but getting in to that kind of action required some connections of your own on one side of the conflict or the other and calls for help just were not landing on your comm. So while others were busy earning their nuyen in the shadows and enjoying the benefits of a steady paycheck week to week for continuing the problems between the syndicates, you were stuck settling in for another night in the gutter with what you might call ‘friends’. It sounded like a good idea until that chirping alerted you that a second drink at the bar might not be a good idea. A quick peek at the message waiting there
>>>>>[Crime Mall Foodcourt @2300, keep your head low and hang out near the soycaf cart. The Johnson is a professional representing someone else and has been given your contact info. He’ll be in touch.]<<<<
The message came shortly after 6pm, but it seems your fixer pulled through and finally got you in on the action brewing around town. Redmond might not be the safest meeting place, but at least it was a neutral zone and all parties involved would be sharing the same amount of danger. Thunder clapped in the sky once again, like you really needed a reminder of exactly how much of a headache jobs like this could become when power struggles were involved.
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Finley had just finished his first beer of the night when he got the message. "Redmond, huh?" He got up from his stool. "Night, Tobias. Looks like I might have some work to do after all." He'd have to thank Alcon for coming though, assuming this went well. Depositing some nuyen into Tobias' tip jar, Finley left the bar. He pulled up the hood on his jacket, and hailed a cab. Tonight wasn't a night for riding his bike, much as he wanted to. He got lucky, a cab came before he got too wet.
Taking a seat in the back, he gestured to the cabby, "Redmond, 136th Street East, 122nd Avenue East." and sat back. After what seemed like eternity in the rain, the cab stopped. "136th, 122nd. That'll be 23 nuyen." Finley activated his AR and deposited the money into a dropbox in the passengers seat. "Thanks." he said, and got out. He flipped up his hood again and placed his hands in his pockets. It was a cold night, and the rain wasn't helping any. Thunder clapped again as he walked into the Crime Mall.
Finley quickly found his way to the Food Court, and spotted the cart. He ordered some soycaf to warm himself up, and took a seat. Hopefully, the Johnson would arrive soon. He already felt like someone was watching him.
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Jackson sighed, putting down h is rice wine as he thumbed his comnlink, the AR popping up in his contacts. Using subtle eye movements, he opened the message. Giving it a look over, he stood up, paying his tab at the local Chinese place, giving them a solid tip as he walked out. The driver was glad for the four hours he'd have before hand, the drive from the restaurant in Everett to the Barrens going to take a while in the rain. Taking his time, Jackson would arrive at the Crime Mall at about 22:00, an hour before the meet. He was dressed in his armored clothes, goggles up on his forehead, a rain poncho hiding most of his body. Giving a nod to anyone who was already at the mall, he bought a large soycaff, wondering how late he was going to be staying up tonight.
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"I got the job!"
Sinkhole almost jumped off his barstool, two waitresses that were setting up for the night flinching at the sudden noise tearing through the quiet club. The clubs soundproofing made it impossible to know there was a storm out, but everyone inside setting up for business could hear the 2.5 meter hunk of chrome was now running towards his bosses office.
He knocked on the door marked "Security" and entered. "Boss, I got the meeting! It's in Redmond, I guess I'll walk it... Um...I was hoping Boss... That I could take the Pred IV? I mean, I should be armed, right?"
His huge feet shuffled lightly but he didn't break eye contact
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Pyro was doing diagnostics on his cyberarm in what may be the most low quality apartment in downtown, but at least the rent was cheap and the landlady didn't mind him having a dog in the residence. Covering up the prosthetics once he heard a high pitched whine resound in his apartment and the red light come up on his business comm, he knew it was a new contract. Most people like to call it runs, but Pyro liked the clean professional sound of contract...
Pyro read the message. "So ambiguous. It's some real drek sometimes ain't it Rex?", he spoke aloud to his dog, which only tilted it's head in confusion. "Guess it's time to Frag n' Tag I suppose.". Pyro suited up in his usual mission armor, and decided to dress casual over the concealed protection. He topped it off with his favorite leather jacket, of which he changed the color to black leather through AR to match the white shirt and black jeans. He takes the backpack on the counter that holds his collapsed monocycle, tells Rex to 'stay' and heads out to the street.
Putting the address into his monocycles pilot program to drive itself, he starts browsing for the Crime Malls public node to copy down emergency exit route and floorplans of the floor the meet would take place.
Browse Local Nodes 7d6.hits(5)=1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3323693/)
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The crime mall plans aren't exactly super secured, the old blueprints from when it was a legitimate mall. Any questions you ask about those blueprints will be answered in the OOC topic.
The mall is busy, but isn't it always? If there were no gangers dealing BTLs in the hallways and black market shopkeeps offering their goods placed strategically behind hired muscle it would be a creepy burnt out building. The food court is filled with makeshift grills, torn up food stalls turning out questionable meat, even a ghoul is taking in the nightlife here and enjoying a...... burger. The area is littered with tables looked like they've been gathered from everywhere: Some aluminum and some wood, some chairs bolted to the floor still and others seeming salvaged from a local McSoys.
A group of punks hooping and hollering tear through the food court, pedaling bikes to weave in and out of tables, hooligans leaping over chairs and pushing down patrons, it seemed just a mess of chaos temporarily disturbing the meals of other people who had stopped their black market perusing for a meal. As the mass of people passed the food court returned to a seemingly neutral place. People mulled around tables, black leather or ragged business suits, women and males of all shapes and sizes. Cliques already seemed to have formed before any of you arrived and they sit chatting amongst themselves with laughter and the occasional dirty look towards others in the area.
The vendor gladly sells you your drink, if you chose to buy one, but strangely the Fixer that the message spoke of has yet to show up. Something feels off. Very very off.
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The meeting time the message had mentioned was fast approaching, and the Johnson still had yet to show up. That feeling Finley had that someone was watching him only escalated as time went by.
Roll to spot anything strange - Intuition 4: 4d6.hits(5)=4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3324251/)
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Finley would easily spot the loitering Jackson, who was waiting near by in a fashion that quietly said "I'm here on business." The human sipped at his highly caffinated fake coffee, wishing he was at home with his single serve. Noticing that the contact wasn't here yet, he sent a quick message to his Fixer, trying to double check the time and place of the meet up, mentioning that no one was here.
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With no Johnson in sight, and time ticking past the designated point, Pyro decides to boot up his smartlink program off his business comm. Once up and loaded, Pyro takes his smartlinked goggles out of his pocket and put it over his head, whilst loading up his AR over his contacts image link. With everything set, he leans back in his chair, with one hand his Ruger and the other on his goggles. He nonchalantly takes a look around.
Perception(Visual) 9d6.hits(5)=3 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3324814/)
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"Hah... Hoo.....whew... made it."
The metallic Fomori came half way running up to the stand. He waved his hand and apologised to the vendor for scaring him. Taking a deep breath he stood up straight, towering above the stand and looked around.
"Maybe I am late?" He thought. The mall looked pretty dangerous but at least he had an Ares Pred IV tucked neatly into a concealed holster.
Perception 3 + Int 4 (7d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3325027/)
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Your perception test notices that though there are plenty of groups hanging around the food court, two in particular continuously look at each other with a strange sense of tension. One group is dressed in jeans and tee's with crossed switchblades tattooed on their body or printed on their shirt. The other group is mostly filled with black leather clad individuals with a lot of green and spiked rings around large A's. While the first group is full of any meta type normally seen around town, the other seems only elves.
The court seems to quiet slightly as an individual backed by two other steps forward with the heavy thudding of biker boots on the tiled floor. Green streaks split his scalp into three black racing stripes and his mirror sunglasses sit atop a nose broken once or twice recently. A leather jacket matched his boots and tight jeans completed the outfit.
To his right was an elf male with a chromed left arm and a sneer. His eyes were intently staring down the other clique while his pointer finger and thumb rubbed together in small circles. To the man's left was a female dressed more like a dominatrix than anything else, with a leather catsuit tightly hugging her form, leaving little to the imagination.
The man behind the soykaf cart shifts, the wheels of the cart moving as he speaks just loudly enough for the group of you to hear him.
"Keep your heads down and watch, don't get involved. Yet."
The man in the sunglasses smiled as the other clique begins shifting a bit uncomfortably with their attention openly focused on the elves now. Some people on the edges were moving away and nearby shops were lowering grated cage walls out of safety. The man behind the soykaf cart watches unconcerned, a rag making small circles on the top of his cart. Things were about to get interesting.
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Boss mentioned all the gangs around here...
Street Gangs (5d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3325142/)
"Oh.. Thanks Mister.." He smiled down at the vendor. "Um.. I'll have to buy something another time... I'm a bit short................. On cash, obviously."
Looking back at the cliques he wondered which was going to do something first... He'd felt hostility similar to this as a bouncer but this was different.
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From the advice from the soycaf vendor, and the situation unfolding nearby, Finley decided prepare himself, just in case. Slipping his hand under his jacket, he made sure there was a dart loaded into the chamber of his Parashield Dart Pistol, switching off the safety quickly afterwards. Finley also noticed that the one of the groups consisted solely of elves, and decided to bring his hood up, hoping he wouldn't be confused for one of them. He also had the oddest feeling that the vendor was more than just a vendor. Slowly getting up, he sidled next to the soycaf cart.
"I'll have another one, chief. Medium, Black this time." After a pause as the vendor served Finley his drink, Finley spoke up again. "You're the guy I'm supposed to meet, aren't you?"
Roll to talk him into admitting the truth - Charisma 6 + Etiquette 4 : 10d6.hits(5)=7 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3325238/)
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Street: Seattle Gangs skill check. (4d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3325377/)
Jackson studied the two groups for a second or two, moving closer to the stall as they squared off, trying to see if he could place what groups they were. He shook his arms out, one at a time, readying himself for if he needed to defend himself. "Here's hoping we don't have to get involved. I'm quite willing to let two gangs chew each other up." he said quietly as he got closer to the group. He figured at least a good couple of them were in the group he was joining.
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Pyro decides to keep to the tactic of wait and see. And with the advice of the soykaf vendor he decides it's an even better idea. Pyro calmly stands up from the bolted down chair and decides to stand behind the nearest potted plant (or other sizable solid construct that can provide cover) and light a smoke as he watches the mayhem unfold.
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The gangs are easily identified as some of the top tier talent in the ‘plex. The elves obviously The Ancients and the others definitely old time rivals The Cutters. Both rolls to obtain information about the gangs succeeded in remembering this information.
Cabo: Despite your persuasive efforts, the soykaf man seems far more interested in the coming struggles than the truth. He does speak to you softly though, with a simple hand gesture and the word “Watch” whispered.
It all started so fast, a sudden flash of light as a ball of fire was launched over the tabletops away from the elves and into their chosen targets. Three huddled together humans dropped at once, their screams filling the food court with screams of agony as elves burst from their seats and tables and charged the group en masse. Fist met face and crowbar met combat knife in a cacophony of destruction that had elves hurling chairs, humans ripping off ears, and plenty of screaming.
REA+Dodge to avoid being hit by flying debris, damage is 4P
The people continued their brutal assault for roughly three to four minutes before full automatic fire tore through the food court in the direction of the warring factions. Bullets tore through what food and furniture remained and even nicked more than a couple bodies hit the floor as the Crime Mall’s enforcement movement sought to chase the violence outside. Their tactics worked, scattering the combatants and sending them running in opposite directions presumably to obtain transport and head out before the other faction caught up. There were over a dozen wounded or dead laying around the tables now as the soykaf vendor nodded solemnly.
“Well that was far less bloody than I assumed it would turn out, is everyone okay?”
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7d6.hits(5)=4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3326561/)
Picking himself up off the floor, Finley quickly patted himself down and checked his extremities. "Well, aside from some dusted up clothes, nothing out of place and no new holes. I'm good. Now would you care to explain what the hell that was all about?"
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Dodging junk (7d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3326715/)
"Just fine." Jackson replies, taking a moment to mourn his soycaff before ordering another. "And what was up with that? Almost like it was a distraction."
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Dodge: 7d6.hits(5)=1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3326845/)
Do I get any bonuses to my dice pool/enemy penalties for hiding behind cover?
Pyro is taking in the sights of mayhem when one of the knives fly accross the room and almost strikes him. He crouches behind giant potted plant in an attempt to avoid injury.
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"Uh-Oh."
Dodge 3 + Rea 6 (9d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3326993/) I can buy hits to soak 1P
Sinkhole flipped one of the metal tables over and lifted it by the legs to cover him and the soycaf cart. Some drebis hit him in the legs but didn't even scratch his chrome.
After the gangs were chased out he put the table down and turned to the vendor. "You okay, Mister?"
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Pyro, even with the modified numbers you need to resist 4P
With the hubbub now gone and the mall security chasing after the trouble makers, the soykaf vendor smiled as he took a cup of his own brew and sipped at it with a smirk.
"Welcome to the Mall, my name is Halfwit and I believe you four have been sent here by your respected friends and fixers? I cast a rather wide net across the entertainment and street venues. Had to make sure the talent came from places most affected rather than those aloof above the problems of the day to day. My employer, who I'm sure you know I won't talk too much about, is seeking an end to this feud between these factions and those that employ them. Fights like this have been breaking out for the better part of a week."
He stops, pausing to take another sip and give the cart a shove after pulling a briefcase out of the bottom of it. His steps are quick and professional, placing the briefcase atop a table still standing and finds himself a seat to set up.
"My employer has given me the ability to negotiate up to one thousand nuyen per person and up to three thousand in corporate scrip to each person who decides to undertake this task and is... successful. If any of you feel this is unfair, walk away now or I'm sure the interested parties will force you to walk away so that they might learn how to collect this payday."
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Finley pondered on the offer.
"Well, certainly, a thousand isn't all that much, but everyone has to start somewhere." He sighs and mumbles to himself, "and it's not like I couldn't use the money."
"All right, before I accept the deal, I've got a couple questions. Question one: Who are these guys exactly? And I mean the guys who just started that little scuffle, and the guys who apparently employ them. Question two: Why are they being paid to fight each other? And finally, question three: Anyway we can possibly . . . oh I don't know . . . up the payment?"
Roll to increase payment - Charisma 6 + Negotiation 4: 10d6.hits(5)=6 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3327990/)
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Jackson looked at Finley. "I can answer the first part, at least. The elves were the Ancients and the others were the Cutters." he said, giving the Johnson a look.
"I don't deal in Corp Script. In fact, I'd be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't work directly for a corp who does. If you can change it to something more...I dunno, useful to me, like more nuyen or coupons, it'd be for the best." he told him. "And we need more information. Like what exactly the run is." he mentioned.
Cha + Inf Group for negotiations (8d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3328029/) In hopes of either A: more money instead of Script, or B: Store coupons instead.
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"The Ancients and the Cutters, huh. I'm sorry if this sounds stupid, but who are they? I haven't been in Seattle that long. Oh, and the name's Silver Bee, or Bee, for short. Pleasure to meet you. Finley stuck out his hand.
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Jackson reached out to shake. "Call me Card. Ancients are the street elf version of Humanis I guess. Not bad guys if you can get on their good side though, unlike the reference. Cutters I know less about off hand." he said, smiling softly. "I'm practically a Seattle Native by now. Live up north of the City Center."
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"It's a pleasure, Card. I've got a place in the Elven District myself." He looks back to Halfwit. "Well, how 'bout it. Care to explain why these two have been hired to fight each other?"
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Damage soak, converted to stun due to armor: 15d6.hits(5)=3 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3328313/) 1 Stun.
Pyro walking out from behind cover replies, "Damn stray hit me." as he rubs his shoulder but otherwise ignores the bruise. "I'm downtown, you can call me Pyro." he says as he shakes the hand of Card and Bee.
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@pyro. You mean Card and Bee. Jackson is Card's actual name.
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"Oh OH! You're the guy we're meeting?," a roar like chuckled filled the foodcourt, "extra glad I defended you now!"
Still smiling widely after everyone's introductions, he patted his chest. "I'm Sinkhole, pleased to meet you all... I just live on the street right now.." A confused look covered his face after Halfwit's offer, "Corporate what? I don't even know what that is... my Boss says only ever except nuyen... or a Fake SIN if that's possible..?"
Nego 1 + Cha 4 (5d6.hits(5)=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3328637/) Maybe a bonus for protecting him?
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"Look, we all know I've been hired by a third party so it's not like I have a huge amount of wiggle room. I mean this soykaf cart isn't mine, we just paid the owner a couple hundred nuyen for the day to lend it to me. Grumpy old bastard that he was."
Halfwit takes a moment to pause, fingering the stubble of his goatee as he does so. For a human he's pretty tall at close to six feet and has a build that says perhaps he had played baseball or basketball in his past, a wiry body with ropy muscles built for running. Another sip is taken from his cup and he sighs, holding up his left hand in some sign of surrender.
"Fine, best offer I can do: twenty five hundred nuyen and three thousand corp scrip. That is literally the end of my budget and even cuts into MY payday ya greedy little turds. Now if you can't take that, I'm sure I can find some one who will. I may have to wait a while or dip lower into the talent pool but I have my employer's bottom line to protect."
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"Um.. could you explain what corporate... script is, then And what it does?
Sinkhole gave worried glances to his new team members.
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As an OOC note, do we all understand the term "Corporate Scrip"? The best way to think about it is Disney dollars. They act like cash, look like monopoly money, but can only purchase products and services from that particular corporation. I believe they discuss it briefly in Vice and Running the Shadows section of 4E
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OOC I know what it is. Heres the thing, afaik, It's electronic only just like nuyen but can't be used on credsticks (to enforce corporate control and stop wageslaves sharing). So without a SIN/Fake SIN, like sinkhole, you can't even be paid in it.
"Can the scripts stuff go on a credstick?"
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"Hmm, well I don't know about the rest of you, but I think it's a deal. I could definitely use the nuyen, and I could always sell the scrip to someone. Count me in. So what's the job?"
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"Hey, I won't cut into your payday. I'll take the Script if I have to. Just a pain in the ass to use it." Card says, shrugging. "I don't live near enough, or have enough urge to go to an enclave. But hey, if that's what you got, that's what you got."
I understand script well. Just trying to figure out what green corp is trying to trade with RUNNERS with it.
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"Heck, I'd take all my payment in corp scrip, as long as it's not scrip from a coporation we're about to run against. But I'll stick with the nuyen-scrip split for now. What's the details on the run now that we've accepted it." Pyro asks.
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"Glad that we agree on the price. It makes things easier to explain without everyone arguing about the money. Now then, have a seat and I'll tell you exactly what you'll be dealing with. Ever since the Tempo storm has slowed in the city, we've been stuck with the rebirth of the age old Yakuza and Mafia feud. Particularly the Bigio, who landed the first blow a few months ago, are actively working towards the end of Yakuza grips in certain areas to claim as their own. Particularly Renton."
He stops and looks around to assure himself that everyone is following this background before continuing presenting to his captive audience.
"I have been hired to negotiate a deal and act as the middle man for a discretionary team of people to put an end to this struggle. We honestly don't care how, why, and who but we definitely have an idea of when this job needs to be finished. Your job is to make inroads with their chosen couriers and smugglers. The feud between Ancients and Yaks goes back a few years indeed. So it shouldn't be surprising that Ancients support the Mafia in this push for territory while the Cutters move towards the Yakuza side of things. So I guess the question becomes... which side do you think will be easier to infiltrate as useful tools and eventually move up the chain of command with."
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"Well, I'll be honest with you, I don't know much about either of these gangs. The Ancients and the Cutters, I mean. Everybody and their grandma has heard of the Mob and the Yakuza. But I'd bet the Cutter's would be far easier to infilitrate, since it seems they don't have an elf-only membership. Anybody else agree?"
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"Mmph. I might have trouble either way. I'm not an elf, and my...home team we'll call them, don't get along well with the Yaks." the smuggler said, thinking over the situation. "And I'm not sure if my boss wants me getting friendly with them any time soon."
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Finley looks at Card. "Home team, huh? I take it you work for people who aren't on good terms with either the mob or the yaks. But I think the question is. . ." he looks back at Halfwit, "What exactly is our goal, after we manage to rise through the ranks? Sabotage? Wetwork? Informants?"
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"Inside jobs can get pretty nasty real fast. I'd be willing to be the outside support for anyone willing to go under. Someone has to know that you're a runner and not some ganger to be fried if caught. If we're all for ourselves, then I'd be happy to provide competition" Pyro adds
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Card nods in Pyro's direction. "I gotta agree to staying on the outside. I'm not entirely sure if my boss would be happy with me suddenly gaining rank in either group. I'll talk to him though."
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"I'll volunteer to be on the inside then. I don't have connections to any of these groups, so anything they find on me would be worthless. Plus, I've been running a few years, doing small jobs, so I don't have a rep that can be used against me. Only thing after that is to decide which of these groups I go into."
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"I think you misunderstand..." Halfwit interrupts. "You're not infiltrating the gang, you're seeking to get your team hired by them. Work for them and gain a contact in their employer's faction. Becoming a ganger is a long process, long enough that my employers simply can't wait that long for you to gain their trust. We know for a fact that both the Ancients and Cutters are looking to hire outside help for an upcoming job, and we want you to take that spot and impress them enough to gain a contact that hired them."
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"That first part sounds simple enough. In that case, I'll go try and schmoose those Ancients fellas. Bein' an elf and all. Pyro, you want to work with me? Two elves are better than one. Unless Halfwit here would prefer we remain a whole group. In which case, it's better served we try to work with the Cutters."
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"In that case, I'm on board. The Ancients are likely the easier choice, so long as we have the elves in our group do the negotiations."
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"Eh... I don't like going under, but if nobody else wants to, I don't mind. We're only going in long enough to get an inside contact for a crime family anyhow." Pyro replies.
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"Isn't... Isn't it bad to get hired as shadowrunners to get other people to hire us as shadowrunners just to betray the second group? Wouldn't that make people not trust hiring us?"
He looked down at his feet then back up at the group again. "And I still don't know what Corporate scripting is??
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"I never said anything about betraying. You're being paid to pick a side in this feud and guarantee them supremacy in the Renton district over their counterparts. Neither I nor my employers care how you end the feud, who comes up on top, or any other detail. So long as it gets handled. And corporate scrip is money to be spent on a specific corporations goods and services. There will be a credstick drop off arranged at the completion and evaluation of your work."
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"Um okay then.... So I guess we go pick one and say Hi? Ask what they need done? Do we have a final deadline?"
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"We need you to gain a contact on either side of the feud, either Yakuza or Mafia, by the end of the week. Hence why I offered the intel on both sides currently hiring for one job or another. You just need to pick one. Or do it your own way, so long as the job gets done."
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"Let's go with the Ancients, then. since one of our new friends here has a boss that doesn't like the Yakuza."
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Pyro asks, "Who's the one who doesn't like the Yaks?"
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"I've not been here long so I could join the gang. My ears are sorta pointy... Is that good enough?"
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Card sighed. "I don't like the yaks. And in case you didn't notice or hear,' he started, looking over at the ones still trying to get into gangs. "We're just subcontracting ourselves to finish a gang war so this man's company doesn't have to deal with it any more, it seems. This, I can do."
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"Oh, right, yeah. Um let's go then Thanks Mr. Halfwit."
Sinkhole took a clunking step back and looked at the others.
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Halfwit shrugged, dropping a card with a number on the table before walking away from the group.
"Way I understand it, the ancients have a shipment coming in through the ports that Rey gotta get down to Renton. Of course, that's heavy Yak territory so they're looking to hire extra support of all kinds. That number right there is the only one who will talk to you without a reference. Because he knows that number only gets to a select few individuals. If you have a contact from one of the families by the end of the week, then you'll get paid in full. I'm sure you'll discuss your own fees with the ancients."
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Finley picked up the card, snapping a picture of the number with the image link in his cyber eyes and passing the card on to the others. "Sounds good. All right gents, sooner we get started, sooner we get paid. Though I recommend we relocate to a place less likely to have people eavesdropping on us. Any recommendations?"
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Is anybody else gonna post? I've been waiting patiently to be fair and give everyone a chance to respond, but I'd rather move forward with as little delay as possible.
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Sinkhole's waiting on the others
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Card grabs one of the cards, pocketing it with ease. "Indeed. I can't think of anywhere we coudl afford, unless a slightly rowdy bar is alright with you."
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"If it's all right with you, I have an apartment in the Elven District. It's not much, but it's quiet and it's private."
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That'll be near the Ancients too, let's go.
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Finley messages his new team with his address. "Unfortunately, I didn't bring my bike, so unless I could bum a ride off one of you, I'll have to meet you guys there."
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"I've only got a one-seater, I'll meet you guys there though." Pyro replies.
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"I'll be walking too then..."
Sinkhole heads to the address.
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The night is just miserable enough for the lot of you to make it to your destination unburdened by any interlopers.
I figure you all are going to plan, so I'll let you plan and keep an eye on this topic to place the next piece of story when I think you've making some real progress
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Once reaching the apartment Pyro starts asking the others, "So, we should get things straight. Like who's gonna go in, who's going to provide outside support, and what to do with the rest of the runners that don't fit in the first two categories. I think a good place to start would be for everyone to introduce themselves and their skills, I'd rather not send some razorboy in to pretend to be our inside guy" he takes a second to look around for any obvious cyberware users, "No offense."
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Finley stood up, and made a gesture to draw attention. "I'll go first, since we're using my home as our make-shift HQ. My name is Finley Kaufmann, otherwise known as Silver Bee. And I'll say this upfront, I don't kill people, period. With that out of the way, I'd say I'm pretty skilled at conversation. I'd gladly volunteer to be the "inside guy", as it were. Plus, I think talks will go smoother Elf to Elf."
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"Obvious" was an understatement in Sinkhole's case.
"Um.. What's a razorboy?..
Pleased to meed you Silver Bee... I'm Sinkhole... Um... I'm big.. er," he rolls up a sleeve, "I'm metal from the neck down so I'm pretty robust. I'm okay in a fight.. apparently.. right now I've got an Ares Pred IV...
Oh and if you didn't realise, I don't have a fake SIN yet.."
Looking thoughtful for a minute and running a chrome hand through his shaggy black hair, he added, "I don't mind going in, 'The wordsmiths need muscle behind them' is what my Boss said. On that point though, if the agents are looking to hire a runner team... isn't it best we all go?
He absent mindedly starts checking over his pistol, his moments becoming quick and practised.
"Oh are any of you... you know... Magic? That stuff barely works on me apparently. I'm ill or something, I didn't understand."
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"A razorboy is another name for a street sam, or someone with cyber up the ass." Card replied, finding somewhere to sit down. "I'd offer to be a face, but as Bee here said, we have the elf issue. The Ancients aren't big on working with other metatypes." he said, stretching out a little. "Though I'm glad we both agree on the no killing. I'm betting we live by the same tao, Bee." he mentioned with a smile. "Besides, from what I've heard, most places pay more if you do a run with no kills. Less property damage means less chance of being tracked down or something."
"But for introduction, just call me Card. I specialize in hand to hand self defense and driving, but I can strike a deal when needed. No cyber here, because my body has a high sensitivity to such things. So you all know, my primary employer is the Yellow Lotus, which is why I was originally leery about the job, but getting this war over with would be highly beneficial."
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At the mention of the Yellow Lotus, a thought popped into Finley's head. "Yellow Lotus, huh? Think they'd be willing to provide some help? Discretely, of course. Maybe provide some funds for weapons, gear, the like? I mean, since we're decided on the Ancients, we'll be hurting the Yaks, and I'm sure the Triads would appreciate that."
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"Hm... okay, so now we know each other and have a lead, anyone have any contacts with the ancients?" Pyro asks
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"I can try. It'll take a couple of days at best though. I'm hoping we don't need all that much gear, but we do need one of our elven friends to go get a job first." he said, looking over at Bee. "Go see if they won't give us something to start, and we'll work from there."
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"Will do. But that being said, how do we go about introducing ourselves? It's not like we can walk up to an Ancient on the street and say 'Hi, I'm a Runner, and I'd like to work for you.' We're gonna have to find one of the higher ups. Suggestions?"
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"Yeah... we use the number Mr.Halfwit gave us. It's to get us the job."
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If everyone is okay with this tactic, give me a nod so I can post the next piece
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"Right, let's do that then. Where should we set up the meeting?"
Nod
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Go for it
"Where ever, though try to put it in their turf. I'm not sure us non-elves should go. I'm not all THAT familiar with how they hire runners, and I'm not sure how friendly they are with the other types, but if you need the inconspicuous back up, I'm free."
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"Sounds good to me." Pyro states.
I'm good for it.
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The comm takes a moment but finally you can hear someone on the line the sounds both agitated and hung over. "Look, I don't get paid until the first of the month when prospect died hit my pocket and each of the street captains get their cut of the profit. Now what do you fraggin' want?"
There is obvious shuffling in the background and you can hear the tell-tale sounds of other people near the comm being used.
"Hello? Who the fuck is this?"
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"Hello, my schriftstellername is Silver Bee. I understand your boss is looking to hire a team, and I'd like to set up a meeting between us. Us being my team and your boss. That gonna be possible?"
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"You ain't meeting Lucifer, but I do got a job for you if you want it. Just an escort across hostile territories. Tell ya what, I got a headache and I need a drink. Meet me at Powerline tomorrow night just before midnight. If we like you, we might hire you but otherwise you'll at least get some drinks."
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"Wunderbar. Tomorrow night at the Powerline it is. How will I know how to identify you? Do you have a name?"
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"No, trust me... you'll see us."
The line goes dead, leaving the team only to wait for the time to come around for the meeting.
We can skip ahead to when you head there, but I need to know how you are all dressed/equipped, etc before getting to the club.
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Equipped/Dressed the same as now.
"The Powerline? Is that in this district?"
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"I'm not sure, let me run a search." Finley performed a search on his commlink, quickly locating the bar. "It's on Market and 17th, in Bellevue. So no, it's not in this district. We're downtown. So, let's come up with a plan. Obviously, the elves in the group will be attending the actual meeting, but what about the rest of you?"
I'll be wearing an armored jacket over standard clothing. Under my jacket will be my stun baton and my dart pistol in it's quick draw holster. Also, my trusty fedora.
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"Why can't we all go? Like with Mr. Halfwit?" Sinkhole cocked his head.
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"Because Ancients aren't friendly with most non-elves." Card replied. "I'm not even sure if I should go. Don't want to ruin negotiations because of such. Though, at least at Powerline I can sit around nearby and blend in. You, on the other hand Sink," he said, giving him a friendly rap on a metal part, if possible, "are quite obvious and don't blend in well.:
Sure. Also, Armored clothes, Biking goggles on head, AR gloves in pocket.
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"Why wouldn't they li.....? Well never mind, I get what you mean. I'll wait outside."
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"If you insist, Card. And you're right about Sinkhole here. Not as exactly inconspicuous. I think you and he would best serve the plan by waiting outside, providing recon and security. And you'll be in range of comms if things inside go badly, though I doubt they will. Pyro will be my backup inside."
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"See you there then, nice meeting you all." He stepped outside and took in the night air. He was getting used to living on the street, Sinkhole starts looking for somewhere to sleep.
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"I got the impression that I was one of the ones going in, considering I'm an elf and all." Pyro asks.
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Since nobody has responded, I'm moving forward.
The first floor of Powerline is packed, with the latest synthpop and heavy bass thudding in the club as drinks flow freely and people find partners to dance with until taking them to other floors for less savory activities. The bartender, an attractive female elf, smiles at each and every customer at the bar making sure to lean over to help better show off her... drink selection behind her. There are plenty of bodies on the floor, all metatypes and persuasions hooking up as the DJ's full AR station flashes in sync with the music.
It isn't hard at all to notice the group of elves in the corner on velvet couches with girls admiring their tattoos. Mohawks, leather jackets, dreadlocks, greens, blacks, and lots of pointed ears with a crowd and alcohol expensive enough to give most people a headache thinking about the bills. Laughter, hooting, hollering, they aren't afraid to draw attention to themselves and you're almost positive one of these is the contact you're looking for.
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Finley drafts a quick message and sends it to the team. "Stay alert everyone. Card and Sink, stay nearby and keep watch." He glances towards Pyro and asks "Ready?"
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"As ready as I'll ever be." Pyro responds. Giving a final nod after the statement as he heads with Finley to the elves.
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Sinkhole loitered opposite the club, keeping lookout and occasionally watching the line. I wonder if I can barge in if needed...
Perception roll when I get home
Keeping watch, Perception: Percep 3 + Int 4 + Actively looking (9d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3352914/)
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"All right. Follow my lead." Finley calmly walks towards the group of elves. "Gentlemen. Evening. It's a pleasure to meet you. Can I get any of you a drink?" He waits before continuing, ordering any drinks they may have wanted. "Now I understand you have a job for my team. Is that correct?"
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"We have jobs for information, like the information of who the hell gave you my number? My real number." a green Mohawked elf growls while clenching his synthahol. The other look to you and your team like outsiders. And let's face it you are.
There is some movement in the crowd that gives a sense that your answer might well define your ability to walk in the morning. While this bristling is going on inside, outside is rather peaceful with no real commotion on the streets, but a long line of bikes sitting outside just waiting for their riders to hope back on and return to causing mayhem on the main highways of Seattle. Thinga might just end up there, or the club might get real interesting really quick.
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Finley could feel the tension in the air rise. "If you really must know, the number was on a card, given to us by some halfwit at a mall. Does that answer your question? And if it does, can we get down to business? Like gentleman, of course."
While he says this, he sends a quick text message to Pyro. "Be careful. I get the feeling this may not go well."
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Card does his best to melt into the crowd, keeping an eye on his team mates and the gangers while ordering a generic beer.
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Did we lose players or are people just deciding not to post?
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Nothing Sinkhole can do right now
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I think we're just waiting on you. Only two of us have anything to at the moment, and only one of us has a speaking role for the most part.
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"Halfwit is a trustworthy guy, so I assume he gave you my number for a reason. So the question is, do you think you can do what we need you to or are you just hoping for some table scraps to keep your shack for the next month and a half?"
He laughed, the elves around him laughed as well. Like a pack of trained dogs waiting for the order to pounce as the meeting went uninterrupted by those around them. The music thudding, the crowd outside passing by harmlessly, it seemed the elves were atop the food chain in this neck of the woods and everybody knew it.
"Because if you think you're the real deal omae, I say we put it to the test."
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Finley smiled when the elves laughed. "Real deal, huh? What do you have in mind?"
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"Simple, get your little team together and let's go for a ride. Don't worry about your own rides, we can provide them. But we are very eager to see what Halfwit sent us this time. So if you're ready my associates here will escort you to our bikes and cars outside. I assume you didn't come alone, but if your whole team isn't here we can wait for them and share a drink until they get here."
There it was again, one of those jackass smirks that can only come from someone who knows they have all the cards in the game and are in full control of the situation. Those around him cackled, clinking glasses and bottles as their appointed spokesman speaks to this newcomer.
"By the way, the name is Wulfren and if you choose to get... noncompliant, I must warn you that there will most definitely be problems. But follow the rules and there might just be a business arrangement we can make."
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This is clearly a trap, Finley thought. But what could he do? It was either do it or not get the job. "All right, give me a couple seconds to inform my team." He activated his commlink, using the short range comms to contact Card and Sinkhole. "Okay guys, come on in. It seems we're going for a ride."
Finley looked back towards Wulfren. "They'll be here shortly. In the meantime, can I get anyone another drink?"
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"Ah, that's good news!" Sinkhole smiled toothily and walked towrds the bouncers, "Hi! I'm meeting someone inside."
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The adept stood and wound his way through the crowd towards his companions, stopping next to Finley.
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Seeing Sinkhole and Card join him and Pyro, Finley made his introduction. "Gentlemen, may I introduce you to the team. The elf next to me is Pyro. The human is Card. And this rather large gentleman bringing up the rear is Sinkhole."
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"It's a pleasure." Looking down on the group of elves he rocked on the balls of his feet to the clubs music.
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Nothing really changes as the elves leave their seats, keeping that same grin that said they knew more about what was going to happen then their newly hired 'Team'. Wulfren is the last to stand pointing towards the doors with his bottle before his smile breaks into words.
"Come on then, let's see this team of yours in action. I'm can't wait to either be surprised or watch you crash and burn. A car should be pulling up any minute to transport us to our destination. I assume I don't have to tell you its in your best interest to simply get in and don't complain."
The elves move like a pack, careful to keep the team in the middle as they herd themselves out of the club and into the streets where a forest green windowless van waits out front of the club for Wulfren and the others. Immediately many of the elves move towards their bikes, some stumbling enough to make you wonder whether or not they are sober enough to ride, but some still cling to the edges of the makeshift pack to ensure your compliance before finding their own mode of transportation. The driver looks over each of you after rolling down the passenger window. Despite his pointed ears, he looked more the goblin than an elf and his teeth looked like they had been sharpened by hand with some sort of crude tool.
"Hop in, let's go for a ride." he shrieked with a smirk.
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Sinkhole complies and squeezes into the vehicle
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Finley gets in, taking a seat beside Sinkhole.
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Card gives the leader a bit of a nasty grin back as he gets in. 'If it cames to a real race, let me handle it. I doubt they can match my skill.' he told the team over comns, settling into his seat.
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The ride is surprisingly smooth despite the manic pilot, swerving through city streets at breakneck speeds without the slightest hint that he might lose control of the van. The roar of motorcycles are never far behind, or far from the sides or windows of the van for that matter, and seem to almost surround it like a school of fish. Or a pack of wolves. Wulfren is still smiling, rubbing his hands together before he speaks quietly to the group.
"So we're headed to pick up a little package. We get the package where it is going and you're golden. We'll talk about what you want and how we can help each other. If that package doesn't make it, or I'm not there to vouch for you then you'll probably be killed. Or at least shot a few times. Any questions?"
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"Only the obvious 'What's the package?' "
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"So we know what to protect 'sides yourself." Sinkhole pats Wulfren on the shoulder.
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"We're transporting 'Nonyergoddamnbusiness' from one side of Seattle to the other. How does that sound? You get the box, you get me, you get the van and you get an escort of three. You get at least most of that list from Ft. Lewis to Downtown and you get a little payment and a lot of respect. Or you prove you ain't the real deal and end up dead. Did I mention if you show up without me you end up dead?"
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"All right, that's fair enough. But can you at least tell us this: Is the package alive?"
Negotiation 4 + Charisma 6 + First Impressions 2 : 12d6.hits(5)=6 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3376376/)
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"But what's the box look like? Nothing to worry your little head over either, of course you'll turn up."
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"Live cargo is a pain to transport and requires more finesse than I believe you are capable of. The box is roughly three feet long and weighs... A lot. It's wood, it's clunky, and you don't need to open it. Got it or do you have more questions to add to my growing headache?"
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"One last question. We there yet?"
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"I was about to ask the same given how slotting slow your driver is." the delivery driver said with a bit of a smirk. "I mean, damn, if it was me we could've been on the other slotting side of the sprawl by now, even in this hunk o' drek."
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@ cabo setek: +1 karma for epic post. I'll wait for everyone else to post to be sure there are no questions
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"Nope, all done questioning... Wouldn't we 'av stopped if we were there?"
Someone hadn't heard the joke before.
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The car slowed to a stop very smoothly, the doors opening and allowing everyone inside the chance to get out. Wulren is first, stretching his legs and smiling as he approaches a group of men in cheap suits standing beside two wooden crates roughly the length and width of a dwarf with no real signs of what could possibly be inside.
"Gentlemen, we have arrived. I would suggest we get out and chat a while our benefactors load this into the car for us and some of our friends with bikes scout the roadways ahead so we might choose the best path. This is our package, and apparently..." he stops, eying the men in suits with a very agitated look on his face "We'll need to transport them both safely. Think you can manage without my driver or would you prefer we keep the crazy little bastard?"
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"If you'd like to get there before the next year, I'd suggest allowing my friend Card to drive. I have the utmost trust in him to get us there quickly."
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"If you don't mind someone else driving your van that is. I'm quite sure I can get us there in record time." he said, grinning as he pulled on some driving gloves, a bit of a glint in his quite natural eyes.
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Rocking on his feet the big metallic chunk kept n eye out.
Int 4 + perep 3 + active looking 2 (9d6.hits(5)=4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3387934/)
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I am sorry for my lack of posts, I got a stomach virus like no other and have barely been awake.
"Sure you can drive, just load up the crates into the car and we'll be on our way."
He stops to peer around, obviously searching as hard as Chrona was for any sign of trouble as Ancients sat around smoking and chatting quietly amongst themselves. Nothing seemed out of place, but who knows what would happen once the group started moving.
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Don't worry, feel better. That should be Sinkhole in your post too not Chrona. Have we lost Pyro?
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I end up in a hospital and we seem to have lost the whole group. Not fun at all. I was expecting to come back to a lot of "Where the fuck are you" posts
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Sorry about no response. I just got net back. Glad to hear you're alright Ly. Also, can't seem to read a Spoiler with in a spoiler.
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I'm still here, was waiting for others to post. You ok Lysanderz?
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Still here. Was just waitin on you.