Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: DireRadiant on <08-31-12/1659:10>
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The Crossroads, Auburn <<2072.09.27 04:22:16>>
Sitting between the industrial Auburn and devastated Puyallup, The Crossroads is on the rough and tumble side. The exterior of the club is low key, designed to look like a rundown manufacturing plant. The interior looks like a cross between an industrial plant and a biker bar. The first floor consists of a stage and dance floor at the back, a bar at the center, darts and pool tables to the left, and booths and tables to the right. The second floor consists of rooms intended for private parties and business meetings.
You are in one of these meeting rooms.
The club itself exudes an undertone of cinnamon flavored desolation which contrasts with the clean vanilla mint flavor and mild caffeinated buzz permeating the meeting room. The low level oatmealy curtain ward keep the sensations distinctly apart.
<<AR|VR: The overlay is minimalistic and no-nonsense; the proprietor isn’t one for flash or glitz. The AR menus are bland, but there’s little spam in the club’s AR feeds. The club’s node is themed like the industrial plant the physical building is reminiscent of.>>
Norman Keyes rubs his eye patch absent mindedly and steps forward through the cone of noise. He's followed by a service drone carrying an array of your favored beverages and stimulants. Pausing in front of your table he makes a single nod of acknowledgement and drops a pile of worn credsticks on the table.
The readouts display only zeroes.
Norman grins, he pulls out a single credstick, and places it carefully in the center of the table, along with a cred reader and transfer device.
"Mr. Johnson said you did a good job. So bonus time. And I will say, don't forget to pay your tab before you leave tonight."
Norman leaves the room, leaving behind the single credstick.
It blinks steadily, 20,000....
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Malcolm Reed, a.k.a Mr. Smith, nodded to the proprietor as the man entered the room. He sighed internally, What the hell has Keyes gotten me into? I can't believe I actually went on a goddamn shadowrun. Reed picked up his drink, scotch on the rocks, and took a small sip. He casually scanned his partners in crime, he still didn't have a good sense of these people. That usually meant getting killed in negotiations, and in his new line of work it might be literally.
He didn't know what might set these people off, they were shadowrunners after all. I suppose I should stop thinking like that, I'm a shadowrunner now too. Still these "gentlemen" don't seem all that refined. He glanced down at his clothing; a dark grey lined coat, a light grey t-shirt, faded blue jeans and black sneakers with white laces. He wished he'd had a chance to change into his business suit, his current ensemble made him feel lowly.
He stood up, carefully, he didn't want to set off any itchy trigger fingers. He extended out his drink, "Gentlemen, to a successful venture." He took a quick sip, and gave his team the most charming smile he could. He made sure to make eye contact with each member of his team, he'd always been told his baby blues could melt the heart of a bug spirit. He just prayed that his eyes didn't betray his nervousness.
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Calvin grabs the ice water from the tray and swirls it once, conscious of just how unintimidating he looked compared to most of the 'crew'.
In the shadows, they called him 'Saint'. If they only knew... he thought, raising his glass to his team. He swallowed a gulp and chewed on the ice cubes. He smile back awkwardly at the elf, something in his demeanour seemingly familiar.
I really could use this money. But I can always use more... and that means we need to invest.
Lost in his thoughts, Saint will wait for a lull in the conversation before proceeding.
"Gents, let me go ahead and say this was the easiest couple thousand nuyen I've gotten in a while." Saint began, a little nervously. "I'd like to make more," he added with a laugh. "But," he continued, nodding at the blinking credstick, "that there's an even number, and we're an odd group..." He glanced around.
Coughing, "I mean, I suggest we split it eight ways. We can split it eight times-err--ways. It's a few hundred less nuyen for each of us, but uhh-the eighth could go and finance our next run. Might have to bribe someone, get special gear, whatever. That is... if you guys wanna keep doing this?..."
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his ice water was forgotten in his left hand as he spoke. But he made eye contact with each one.
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As Jack waits for the money to appear, he leans against a wall and absently rests his hand on the assault rifle he carries - a vicious looking weapon made even more so by the customizations he's had done.
Only once the nuyen is confirmed does Jack reach for a beer. He raises his drink in response to the toast "Nice work with the negotiations, college boy. An extra 5,000 nuyen to not kill anyone? Who ever heard of such a thing?! I'll need to pick up some non-lethal ammo if we do this again."
At Calvin's comment Jack turns and growls, in a low and dangerous sounding voice, "No. We divide 20,000 by seven people - it's 2,850 each. Then we leave the other credits for the tab."
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Exile grabs a beer as soon as they get brought out, and takes a large drink of it. He sits back, and seems to zone out. He's not used to social situations, and doesn't really know how to handle himself.
It's money, but it's not enough he thinks to himself, knowing that 2,000 won't get him much further in the life he has set up, or advance him towards his goal.
As Mr. Smith looks him in the eyes, he looks away, he knows the others here consider themselves smarter then he is. He'd probably like nothing more then to never see me again.
At Saint's mention of earning more money, he perks up though. "More money is good." He takes another long drink. A man willing to give up his magic for the power of technology. While many of them have embraced the power of technology, he has gone further. Always useful to have those willing to go the extra step.
When Jack makes his comment, he slams his bottle on the table, shattering it. He then turns and looks directly at Jack. "Eight."
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Oh man, how good is this drink? Jenever thinks as he takes a sip of the white russian cocktail in front of him. The drink is almost empty and his face shows the expression of disappointment. <<Keeper, another one please.>>
The money he earned today was easy money, so it looks like moving to Seattle finally paid out. It better should, since Vegas was starting to press on him for the first rate.
On the other hand how easy is money earned when you have to deal with guys like this Jack character. Heavily armed and highly aggressive a very dangerous mixture. At least they were on his side until now and he hopes that this will not change to soon especially not whilst he is outside his van.
When the talk begins he directs his attention to the team. Nodding when Calvin makes his suggestion. “Good idea. I fully agree.”
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Benny was never one to dwell on a job once it was done, but even he felt that this last run was a bit on the easy side. Once the client left and the bickering started, Benny squinted at the haphazardly arrayed creditsticks and what to him seemed like a clearly antagonizing set-up with the pay. It was like the client wanted them to bicker, maybe even escalate things. Perhaps he was trying to get his loose ends to cut themselves. If so, it was clearly working. Never trust a breeder.
"There ain't no eight. We each signed on for a fair shake, equal cuts. Ain't nobody here votin' on what happens to other folks money. Unless we hugh-nan-imos... which we clearly ain't... there ain't no way wer reducin' cuts for some joint account. Dats just bad business."
With that, Benny pulls out his own creditstick, not trusting the employer's not to be rigged with a tracker or some other shenanigans.
"So lets just take our cuts and don't do nothin' stupid. An' if anybody has some biz on the hook, feel free to spin the deats. Nobody here seems to be in a rush."
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Goofy looking freak has the nerve to…
Careful thought fades to the background as Jack turns to face Exile squarely. Jack makes no overtly threatening moves. He maintains the same relaxed yet ready posture he displayed when toasting success, but his demeanor shifts from off-putting to intimidating.
At 6’ tall and 225lbs, Jack isn’t large for an Orc, but he carries himself with the attitude that has protected him on the streets. It screams - I don’t mind loosing, but I’m damn sure not going to let you win.
Attitude isn’t everything though. In the barrens Jack has a reputation for being vicious when he feels he’s been crossed.
And there’s his weapon. Everyone is armed, but he carries his like an extension of his body – plus you’ve see first hand that his personal touches make it as much a melee weapon as a firearm. His version of “non-lethal” is beating someone over the head with the butt of his rifle.
Empathy analysis complete.
“You six can split up your shares however you want. Put it in a pool, give it to charity, snort it up you noses. I don’t care. But I’m taking my two thousand eight hundred and fifty nuyen." with a nod to Benny he adds "Then we can talk about other business.”
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Saint raises his matte-black right hand in a placating manner. "Okay," he breathed, "that was dumb. And yeah I agree, hope you all brought your own credsticks," he says as he slowly pulls out a credstick of his own and lays it on the table in front of him.
"Let's do this first: we each take our twenty-eight-fifty. Then, let's discuss the future." He takes a sip of water. "We can always chip in from our cut later, if we want."
He nods in appreciation to Exile and Jenever, flashing each a 'worth a shot' grimace.
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Exile continues to face Jack, but turns his vision to Saint as he speaks again. After he finishes, Exile pulls out a credstick and sets in in front of him.
He grabs another beer and sits back, taking a large drink. He never turns his head from Jack. Look at him. He's so weak. He talks big and acts scary, but take away his fancy hack box or gun, and he's nothing.
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Uncomfortable about the whole situation, the hobgoblin conspicuously rubs the hole in his armoured suit where a lucky bullet had harmlessly flattened itself against him during the job. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the obvious tension in the group, HB drains the remaining synthahol-laced cola from his glass before slamming it joyously on the table. "Well, at least that job was fun!" he explains, "don't see why I wouldn't want to do another one with you guys: Benny, we need to show me some of those fancy karate moves some time." Letting out a burp, he leans to have a look at the bar, not really caring about the use of the AR menu. "Hey! Barkeep! Give us another around, and if ya can, make the drinks stronger and the one serving it sexier".
Lacking social graces and revelling in it, he at least hopes that his light-hearted comments and off-color joke wil deflate some of the situation. "Saving sounds like a real sensible thing, sure, but I'm not sensible, and I thing we should party, so why leave only 50 for the tab? How 'bout we all go have lunch at the Big Rhino after?". Of course, he doesn't really think people will agree to his idea, but it's worth a shot. "Better not bring that gun there though Jack, but you prolly know that already, being an ork and all, you surely know how to handle yourself at the Rhino." The attempt is clumsy and feeble, but it's there: between the Jack, Benny and him, the common bond of Orks (and their variant!) is tentatively kindled, all of them agreeing to some degree on what should be done with the money: split it as fairly as possible, use the rest to celebrate. HB just feels like celebrating a bit more.
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Reed made mental note of Saint's forward thinking, Jack and Exile's agressiveness, and HB's uncouthness. He stared nervously between Jack, Exile, and the door,Oh god damn it, this is exactly what I was worried about happening. Those two can shoot the drek out of each other for all I care, but not with me in bullet range. Reed cleared his throat, "Well now that that has been settled, perhaps we should discuss the possibilty of continuing our business partnership. The success of this run has me open to us continuing to operate as a team. Gentlemen, your thoughts? He pulled out his own credstick and took his cut while hearing the replies of the others.
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Saint follow's Mr. Smith's lead and takes his cut, then tosses fifty nuyen into one of the battered credsticks as a tip.
On a whim, he inhales deeply and blinks and peers into the Astral to check the area. He summons a Watcher Spirit to ensure their privacy, with orders to manifest should there be someone who seems to be observing them astrally or physically.
There's a faraway look in his eyes, and he seems more... himself even though he looks like he's admiring the walls. He listens and nods as Mr. Smith talks.
"The last one was a bit last minute for me," Saint began then nodded at the credsticks, "not that I'm complaining. Here's my commcode, in case you didn't catch it the first time."
Taking another sip of his ice water, he continues. "My fixer hooked me up with this run while I was asking for something else. He's a bit... eccentric, and the runs involve magic more often than not. He may have something for me in a few days, but right now I'm open to working with any and all of you."
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Exile finally turns his head away from Jack, and takes the credstick, transferring his share over.
"Here's the commcode. I'm always around. Rarely get anything fancy like this coming my way, so if you find another, I'll join.".
Exile takes another drink from his beer, and looks at HB,"I got nowhere to be. Show me where it is, and I'll come."
I wonder what this Mr. Smith, and Jenever can actually do...Didn't really get to see them in much action. Saint, Benny, and HB did a pretty decent job of taking down some guards, even if it was a bit slow at times. Even Jack took one down, after almost getting caught. Didn't want to have to rescue him, so glad he didn't.
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Jack rolls his eyes as Exile looks away without actually turning his head. Though the move itself is obscured by his mirrored shades the attitude is clear to everyone but Exile [unaware of all social tests?! Jack’s going to have fun with that!]
Freak. Eyes in the back of his head, but still blind to the obvious. If he pushes things I’ll back away and take the nuyen out of his dumb ass later. If I rip his eyes out of his head it would just about cover my cut. Why fight a beast like that up close? Besides, if I spook the college boy at this meeting he’ll probably bolt for good.
Jack offers a re-assuring smile to Mr. Smith “It won’t go down like that.” He explains, before transferring 2850 nuyen onto his credit stick.
With a nod of thanks to HB, Jack grabs a second beer “Allright. Lets talk business. After, Rhino sounds good.” With a quick glance to Benny he adds “I’ll pick up the first round there, for whoever wants to join us.”
To the group he says “I got no work on the hook, but anyone who wants to spend their nuyen on software, drones or a new SIN - I know some folks."
"Like, Jenever, that flyspy was handy, but you might want to install a Covert ops autosoft. Then you could avoid the cameras, instead of me hacking in and shutting them down before we went in."
"And, seriously, I’m gona pick up some stick-n-shock and a stun baton – one of those AZ-150 troll killers. If anyone has a contact, I don’t mind throwing some nuyen their way.”
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Glad to see some of the tension being lifted and confident he must certainly be the unsung hero of the day, HB sits back into his seat with a fleeting smug grin over his face. When Jack's done with 15k credstick, he transfers the 2850 to his own personal "off-shore" account. Turning his attention to Mr. Smith, he nods his assent. The guy's so damn smooth, the young hobgoblin feels almost inadequate when he speaks up. "Well, if you chummers need some heavy muscles and unbreakable bones, ring me up, that kind of job is a lot more fun and certainly more rewarding than my old one" says the ex-merc.
Looking obliquely at Exile, he tries for a moment to understand why someone would agree to look so outlandish that it spooks everyone you meet and makes you so damn memorable for the corps and cops to catch up. Drek, must not be that many minotaurs with eyebands in Seattle. The thought is obvious on his face as he glances worriedly at his "partner", and for a moment he considers the implications. "No offence, omae, but unless you want to chance Jack not having completely rewritten the sec cam's feed - though I'm sure he did an awesome job of it - maybe you should lay low. To put it mildly, you stand out a lot." Coming from the Jewish Hobgoblin, the words are almost ironic, but he clearly means no offence, just stating the obvious. "Wouldn't mind working with you so much though, just not sure about being seen in public with you right after we're done with a job". Again, the attempt is weak, social skills are not his forté, but he does try to make it sound... nicer?
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There are probably two kinds of rigger. Those who believe their drones and vehicles are their companions and the only team they need, and those who consider there vehicles as usefully toys but nothing more.
Jenever is certainly one of the second kind. As a former sailor he knows the value of a good crew. That may misled him to agree to saints´s promising suggestion to fast. He should have thought of the etiquette you have to keep in mind when you deal with complete strangers in the shadows. But it doesn't look like this fault had permanent consequences on their relationship.
While thinking this he casually checks the AR pop up that shows the street in front of the bar filmed by the camera of his van which is parked away a little down the road. After the others took their share he takes the credstick and transfers his share on his shadow account.
“Here is my commcode.”, he says and sends them the commcode of his novatech airware commlink that is in active mode and displays a poor SIN that doesn´t even fit to a dwarf since it displays a male human.
“I'm new in town and could use some money so if there comes something up just let me know and I'm in.”
Turning to Jack,”Tempting idea, but I´m afraid that will have to wait. More urging to me at the moment is a fair stealth program to protect my network. Could you get something like that for a good price?”
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Since everyone in the room had apparently opted not to make a scene over a few hundred nyuen, Benny relaxed and collected his cut onto one of his spare creditsticks. Securely stuffing it away somewhere beneath his vest shortly thereafter. Turning to Jack, Benny relaxes into his native tongue, simply assuming a fellow Ork in Seattle would understand Or'zet.
[spoiler=Or'zet Speech]"If you've got any references as to the quality of you or your people's SIN-work, I might be interested. I had to turn down a Denver job a couple of weeks back because I couldn't get ahold of a decent local cover. The files I got from this two-bit hack out in Redmond damn near got me killed. Biometrics were all wrong. That weaselly little punk has a date with an incinerator. As for your troll-killer, the Scorchers run the guns down below. I know a girl who might be able to hook you up, though she's a bit... eccentric. I'll ask about her crew's current inventory the next time I see her. If the Scorchers don't have it in stock, I could also ask my fixer, but there is always an extra fee when he has run stuff down. He's realy more of a broker than a goofer."[/spoiler]
Glancing over at HB and some of the others, Benny shrugged, "Naught much fer parteeing. But I'm not up'hosed ta stopping by da Rhino fer lunch".
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Reed gave a short nod of acknowledgement to Jack's reassurances. He raised an eyebrow at HB's comment, "Bit of advice, phrases like 'No offense, but' or 'Don't take this the wrong way' have a zero percent chance of success." He turned to Exile, "While it could have been stated in a more eloquent manner, Mr. HB does have a point Mr. Exile. Your visual distinctiveness is highly recognizable and may prove to be a liability, to you, as well as to us." He pulled out his dummy commlink, saved the others' contact info, and then sent his commcode to the others, "Well here's my number, feel free to contact me anytime for business." He briefly made eye contact with everyone, "Well I believe that is everything gentlemen, may our future ventures be prosperous."
With that said, Reed made his exit nodding and smiling to each man as he left. In the hallway he placed his nonprescription glasses on, the club's AR overlay appeared before him. He sent a text to Norman Keyes, <<AR:Norman Keyes:Text:: This experience has been...interesting. We've decided to continue our business partnership, if informally for the time being, so please keep us in mind for future work. I'd also like to contract the compilation of dossiers on my new associates. If you can find any interested parties, you know how to reach me. - Reed>>" He then connected to the club's node and zeroed out his tab before exiting the building. He headed for his car, a dark blue Honda Spirit, yet another visual reminder of his fall in socioeconomic status. He got in and just sat there for a moment.
He allowed a bit of his composure to drop, and started to noticeably shake. On an intellectual level, he knew that shadowruns would involve being shot at, but that in no way prepared him for when it happened. When that guard shot at him, Reed thought he was dead. Luckily the bullet when wide by a few inches, well it was luck for him at least, HB's the one that took the round. At least his armor did its job, Reed doubted he'd have been able to hold it together if he'd watched the guy next to him get shot. "I think I've gotten in over my head. I don't know if I can be Mr. Smith, but what other options do I have?"
He popped open the glove box and pulled his Colt Manhunter, concealable holster and all, out from the small of his back and tossed it in. He also pulled out of the compartment a small baggie of novacoke. He quickly set up and snorted a line on the center console. He let the high wash over him, calming his nerves and placating his doubts. He took a deep breath before placing the coke back in the glove box. He then drove away.
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Seeing as everything seems to be finishing up, and the general attitude about his look, Exile stands up. "Whatever. You know where to reach me." He grabs one last beer, pays for his drinks, and leaves.
He gets a few stares leaving the bar, but he's used to this. He walks off towards the shopping distract, quickly being swallowed by the night. I'll stop by and see if Giovanni has any work for me. This 2k won't last me long.
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Saint stands up and smiles awkwardly at everyone as he rearranges his lined coat with a shrug. He leaves without a word, patting himself down to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything. Gun, money, stuff... The FN 5-7C still sat solidly in its concealed holster hidden at the small of his back, and his various electronics were all stored in his pockets.
He makes his way to his safehouse, summoning a Spirit to keep him Concealed physically and astrally. He asks it to watch over him till dawn.
The bed is lumpy but clean, and he doses off after setting the commlink alarm at daybreak in a few short hours. Suddenly, he straightens up then crawls to the side of his bed.
On his knees, he begins to pray."Yesterday, I helped hurt people. For money. I know it's not how You want me using my Gift, but I don't know what else I can do. You know that already. Today, this week, I'll plan to do the same thing. I... he trails off, staying silent.
He's still on his knees, awake, as the Spirit of Man bids him goodbye as the sun rises.
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Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:22:43>>
It's Sunday.
<<AR:Amy Trinkets:Text|Voice:Distribution=Bounty List:: Check out this report from Lake Steven's. attachments. No one else will give you 2,000 nuyen per whole paranormal animal. Remember I will need to be able to run your Settle Metro Paranormal Hunter license through my license checking system.>>
The attachments consist of Knight Errant property damage reports and resolved insurance claims on various pieces of property in the vicinity of Lundeen Park on the North shore of Lake Stevens. There is also one personal injury claim from Matilda Clemens of 3000 Sandy Beach road.
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Mr. Smith - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:04:56>>
<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: I need you.... shit... you know the place near Grass Lawn. L.. Li.. Linda's place. Can you come right now!?>>
2Fresh does not sound very composed at all. However the name Linda and the place near Grass Lawn do remind you of an address you've sent someone to. Someone in your old life for whom Linda would have sweetened the deal.
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Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:20:11>>
The church was not as full as it should be. Even in the Matrix, viewing the sermon remotely, he could feel the empty seats. It was the story in every church in the Sixth World, though younger churches embraced the matrix wholly and established virtual places of worship that actually had growing congregations.
He tithed two-hundred and five nuyen, transferring it under his Fake SIN as "Rupert Griffin". Instantly, he got a newsletter and several messages about worthy causes.
The AR goggles were already off when Amy's own newsletter came. He was stretching on his couch, in his apartment, and thought twice about reading the message. "Paranormal critters." Saint stifled a laugh, "At least I won't be shooting people. 'Ask, and you shall receive'..."
I hope 'Seek, and you will find' comes true too... Silently, Saint glances up then stretches for his commlink.
<<AR:Search:Map::Lake Stevens, 3000 Sandy Beach Road.>>
Saint stifles a sigh and looks around for a fresh set of clothes.
I'd better call the crew in once I confirm this is legit. Meanwhile, he reads through the attachments to see if anything seems familiar.
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Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.01 22:31:01>>
Saturday Night, and early. When the 405 Hounds had rode in on their speed machines things had gone a bit tense, but settled after the first two rounds of soybeer. Then it all went to hell. Almost all the Armadollos had been jacked in. When the area jammer exploded into action, followed by a power spike and crash, it hurt. It took about two minutes for the 405 to clear out of sight. It was another ten minutes before soemone figured out what had started all the screaming and threats.
Rozalie cleared her throat, she wasn't used to actually using it that much, "I just verified the access logs, and , well, the 405 Hounds are right to be angry. Carson was halfway through backdooring a couple of their machines when their overwatch jumped in and knocked him out of the system." She started crying, "Now they are going to come back and kill us all and burn the place down!"
Rozalie looks around at the gathered Armadillos, "What are we going to do?"
<<AR|VR:Armadillo VPN:The entire scene from Rozalies simcorder is transmitted through the VPN>>
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Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:00>>
Reed was asleep at home, a condominium in Renton, when he got 2Fresh's call. He stared at his caller ID with disdain, Who the hell is calling me at 2 in the damn morning? 2Fresh? What the drek could that bit of human refuse want from me? He signed as he took the call. Reed didn't like the sound in 2Fresh's voice, something very bad must have happened to shake the pimp's composure.
<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: Calm down, Mr. Jones. What is the problem?>>
While carrying on with the conversation, Reed dressed in his black Synergist business suit. It would probably better to go with the low key lined coat, but Reed wasn't willing to be dressed so lowly in front of street trash like 2Fresh. After putting on his long coat, he placed his hold out, a Morrissey Èlan, in the integrated concealable holster, and placed his Manhunter in the small of his back.
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Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<Saturday 2072.10.01 22:31:01 -23:00 >>
When the go-gang first shows up, Jack comes down from his room to make sure the Armadillo doesn’t look like an easy target. He recognizes the gang and knows their rep, but is optimistic that they’re just looking for some drinks.
[intuition 4 +knowledge street gangs 4] 3 hits – I think. No clue what that gets me about the gang.
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682384/
When things go to hell Jack isn’t in VR. He’s unphased by the chaos, but has no way of knowing what went wrong. Maybe one of the students was trying something stupid? Maybe the server crashed on it own? He doesn't know. He follows Rozalie’s directions and sees to closing the bar for the evening as she reviews the logs.
He can tell she’s nervous, but doesn’t want to overstep his bounds. It’s not his bar. He just helps out sometimes. It isn’t until her composure breaks that he realizes just how in over her head Rozalie – and most of the other Armadillo’s - feel. “Don’t worry Rozalie, I’ll take care of it.”
Turning to the rest of the group he just barely stops himself from barking orders like a drill seargent or the leader of some crappy go-gang. Intimidation is not the way to get these people, my friends, to do what’s needed.
Instead Jack gives his empathy software a few seconds to size up the group and then starts giving direction firmly and confidently, but not aggressively.
[ Charisma 2 leadership -1 (defaulting) Empathy software 6 local fame 2, probably plus group loyalty 4, but I didn’t include it] 2 hits – if I’m reading it right. Which is what I’d get if I bought hits without loyalty. I’d be able to buy 3 with a bonus from group contact loyalty.
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682363/
“Someone get me a file on Carlson. Is he one of ours? And can we confirm one of the 405s set off the jammer and caused the crash? I need it in 30 minutes. Send the request out over our network if you need to. I’ll handle the rest.”
Jack stands by the front door, hoping his presence will act as an anchor to help the others focus on their tasks. He’s not sure what else to do.
Ok, now how am I going to ‘handle the rest’? The 405s know most of the Armadillos have no teeth – so threats wouldn’t get me very far with them. I could start picking them off alone, but there’s no way to make sure they come after me and not Rozalie or one of the others. Maybe that new crew can help. I’ve got some nuyen I can throw their way. And if I spoof them some entertainment or maybe score some pirated software that should sweeten the pot.
<<private key encrypted text message from Jack (he would have given an encryption key with his comm code): I’ve got some security work on the hook. 700 nuyen up front. Bonuses and benefits expected. Meet me tomorrow at the Armadillo bar for details. Around noon, if possible.>>
Jack reviews what he knows about the 405s and tries to formulate a plan while he waits for the file on Carlson and confirmation of what, or who caused the crash. He’s no slouch at datasearch, but with the entire crew looking he doubts one more person would matter.
They made Rozalie cry. I don’t care what justification they have. They’re going to pay for that. They have a problem, they tell us. We handle it. Word can’t get out that anything goes around here. Then someone really will burn the place down And then I’ll have to kill someone.
Once he collects his thoughts on who the 405s are, gets confirmation on what caused the crash and who Carlson is, Jack contacts Mr. Smith.
<<2072.10.01 23:00:00 Request for secure VR conference from Jack [if you accept then this is a conversation, otherwise it’s a message]: Hey, uh, Smith. Do you really want me to call you that? I mean if I wanted to track your identity I could. It’s not that hard. But, yeah. Whatever. Smith. I know security work isn’t generally your things, but I think we have some, uh, negotiating to do too. I figure that’s right down your alley. And they might want, like, a neutral third party and you can do that. Jack then explains the entire situation.>>
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Mr. Smith - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:12>>
<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: It's a mess... look, look, right, you know people right? I need help. But you need to come see. I can give you 2 small if... if you can come over and see my problem?>>
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Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:15>>
Reed frowned at being woken up at two in the morning for only 200¥. He damn near hung up on the pimp, but ever the professional Reed merely took a breath and started doing what he did best.
<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: It's very late Mr. Jones and this sounds serious, make it 1,000¥. And you'd had better not make such a weak offer to my business associates if I bring them on board.>>
[spoiler=Negotiation Roll]
Cha 7 + Negotiation(Bargaining) 10 = 17 pool, 11 hits
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682646/ (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682646/)
[/spoiler]
Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01 23:00:00>>
Reed pulled out his dummy commlink, slightly annoyed. He was just about to go to bed, the thing with 2Fresh had left him a bit sleep deprived. He glanced over the text from Jack and deleted it, I'm guessing "security work" is code for "bullet shield", no thank you. He tossed the commlink onto his nightstand and then crashed out, a half hour later the comm started ringing. Reed opened his eyes and yelled out in fustration, "God fucking damn it!" He took a deep breath and picked up his comm. At the request for a VR conference, Reed connected his commlink to the datajack at the base of his skull, and dived into VR.
Reed's icon is a featureless mannequin in a black three piece suit with grey pinstripe. He nodded to Jack, "Good evening Mr. Jack." Reed frowned a bit at how casual Jack was about possibly violating his privacy, but held his tongue, "I believe for the time being it would be best if we continue to use our aliases." He quietly listened to Jack explain his situation, "I am willing to facilitate the cessation of hostilities to your people, I will meet you tomorrow. Your earlier text indicated noon, correct?."
When he was done with the conversation, Reed disconnected and went to bed, shutting off his commlink so that no one else could call him.
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Mr. Smith - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:28>>
<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: .... ok <<1,000 account transfer>> just get here.>>
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Killer-B, Skraacha Control Section Serattle Underground <<2072.10.01 17:48:02>>
The clean dwarf and his immaculate set of gear contrast with the general poverty in the zone. With a nod Dr. Zeke detachs the sensor patch, slaps the tusker on the arm and jovially says, "Couple days rest will give the chems time to do their work. Off you go."
He turns his attention to Killer-B, "Thanks for coming." Dr. Zeke points at the departing skraacha. "There goes the last of my oxymethadopaminitryclin D." He grimaces, "I have a new supplier lined up, the old source dried up. Normally I'd have a couple of the skraacha for backup, but their numbers are down and I think I'll need someone a bit more... accomplished."
The dwarf raises his hand briefly, "Wait... the old source dried up, by getting wiped out. So I think it may not be so simple. I asked to check the sample, but I'll really be checking the lot numbers. If it's the same I think we'll need to respond a little differently. Alvarez was an old friend of mine."
"Are you willing?"
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Mr. Smith's Home (Renton) - Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:05:58>>
Reed smiled to himself when he saw the deposit, Like candy from a baby.
<<AR:2Fresh:Audio only:: On my way.>>
Reed hung up and made his way to 2Fresh.
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HardBoy, Turgans Hole Seattle <<2072.10.01 17:48:02>>
Turgan licked his fingers clean of the sauce from the Big Rhino's super Rack of Ribs. He lent back in his EZ chair and looked across at HardBoy, "So this is the deal. I got a run and need someone to ride shotgun. 5 hour flight each way, 1,000 nuyen for the run, not bad for sitting in the co-pilot chair. Get's you a whole more bunch of ribs. So you got time for it?"
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HardBoy - The Big Rhino, Seattle Downtown <<<<< 2072.10.01 17:49:01 >>>>>
HB tossed his own meat-bared rib back onto his plate, letting out a boisterous burp as he wiped his hands clean before pulling back down the sleeves of his hoodie. "Sounds pretty easy, I'll slot something for flight probably catch up on Chase: Errant Knight! a bit. That series cracks me up." Out of deference and because of where they were, HardBoy had spoken in Or'zet and
done a fairly good job of thrashing its grammar, but still managed to be comprehensible. "When's the flight? And there any possible 'funny business' I want to know about, like why they need a bigguy like me to begin with?"
HardBoy - Seattle Ork Underground <<<<< 2072.10.01 23:03:01 >>>>>
Being Israeli-born, HB has never been on the same "time zone" as everyone else ever since he left. He'd woken up from a quick nap not so long ago and was currently reviewing the latest scores on the Miracle Shooter servers he was playing on - Damn Z3nArch3r got a few more frags while I was sleeping[/color] - when Jack's message managed to get through the local lag. Setting aside his rather uninviting bowl of what was meant to look and taste like oatmeal but managed to do neither, he dug out his 'trodes and set them on his scalp as he reclined into his favorite armchair... you know, the only one he has. A moment later, he was slipping inside the Matrix.
< < VR: Cold Simense : HB's avatar is a monument to puerile gun-toting fantasy, a perfectly muscled man wearing an armored vest over a shirt, sporting black sunglasses and casually holding an assault rifle [reference (http://omen2501.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d1vshg7)]. The effect would probably be better if he didn't lag every 3 or 5 seconds though. "Hey Jack, Smith, what's the job you rang about?" HB listens to Jack's story, nodding and taking mental notes. Lagging, he misses the chance to speak up before Smith does. "Those guys, the 405s, know what they were doin' at the Armadillo to begin with? Puyallup's pretty far from their nice 'n cozt Belevue turf." > >
Dice roll: Intuition 2 + Knowledge: Gangs 3 = 5 dice. 5d6.hits(5)=3 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3682746/) Should be enough to know a major gang crossed pretty much the whole city to trash the Armadillo.
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Killer-B, Skraacha Control Section Seattle Underground <<2072.10.01 17:49:08>>
Benny responded to the Doc's transmission in due course. As he entered the chop shop, Benny was actually surprised to see the Doc finishing up with a patient. Given the short trip from his home to the shop, it basically meant that the crazy old bastard had sent out his request for a drop-in the middle of whatever procedure he'd just been performing. Of course, whatever alarm that may of caused him was quickly superseded by his surprise at the Doc's request. Unless he'd grossly misunderstood the dwarf, he was potentially talking about wetwork. Never in a million years did Benny ever imagine the Doc to the type, but then anger and revenge were strong impulses, something Benny knew all to well.
Slightly stiffening his posture, Benny responded to the Doc in his native tongue,
"You know I've got your back, Doc. But you do understand what you're requesting here isn't exactly the same roughing up some two-bit pimps. If I take your meaning of 'respond differently' correctly, your talking serious business, not just a little favor. You sure your cool with that? Plus, if these guys are Yakuza or something, there will be blow back... and no matter who they are, you'll be out a supplier. Vengeance is often quite bad for business. Never stopped me before, but we're talking about your friend and we're talking about your business... so... its on you Doc."
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Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.01 23:01:16>>
Saint puts down a Chaos Magic theory book and glances at the commlink that's been bothering him for the last half hour.
Finally, he picks it up and decrypt's Jack's message.
<<Reply to Jack's Message: I'm up for it, but I'll be busy till past noon tomorrow. Fill me in on the details, though.>>
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Jenever's Trailer - Seattle <<2072.09.30 11:32:18>>
Vegas shook his head despairingly as the trailer shifted significantly as he stepped inside. He wrinkled his nose, then closed his eyes for a few seconds. He looked at Jenever.
"Since you aren't tied up with anything you can do a little job for me. Just for a few days. While your doing this there won't be any interest building on what you owe me. And maybe it will lead to a bonus."
<<AR|VR:Vegas:: <<AccessID:Billy>> >>
"I'm out of town for a couple days, and I want you to keep an eye on Billy without her knowing about it. You can pipe the surveillance live to me."
"Questions?"
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:58:02>>
2Fresh is sitting on a chair in the entrance way of the studio apartment. Beside is another empty chair and a bucket conveniently sitting on top of it. 2Fresh points to the bucket on the chair and wanly waves for the door to be shut.
Linda is nowhere and everywhere. Modelling holos and wall pics poses show what she once looked like. Before she had been torn apart, shredded, chewed, and thrown across the room in pieces no larger than Nuke It Cola cans. The place smells. The blood is still wet in spots.
"So, you know people who can help?"
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:58:35>>
Reed fought the urge to puke as the sight and smell of the apartment hit him, Jesus Christ. As he surveyed the room, Reed answered 2Fresh, “I have a few people in mind, but before that I’m going to need details. What in the hell happened here? Ghouls? A particularly sadistic rival?”
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Exile - <<2072.10.01 23:15:00>>
Exile wakes up as the sedatives from getting his hardware updated fade, and notices Jack's message.
Reply to Jack: I got nothing better to do. I'll be there. What are the chances of free drinks?
I'd make a role to try and get free drinks, but I don't have a very high chance of many hits off 0 dice.
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 02:59:17>>
2Fresh continued to sit collapsed in the chair, looking like he wasn't ever going to get up out of it again. Without really looking at anything. 2Fresh answered eventually, "I.. I got to do something... Linda was one of my girls, I can't let this happen."
"It was her day off. I ... I was just dropping off some stuff. Restocking. I ... I found this."
2Fresh turns his head and focuses he eyes on Mr Smith, "You know people who can help right?"
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Jenever's Trailer - Seattle <<2072.09.30 11:32:18>>
Jenever offers Vegas a glass of his preferred Dutch-Gin. "Vegas good to see you. I was just thinking of you. Made a couple of Yen the other day and thought you would be glad to see me repaying my debt."
Taking a big sip of his glass. "Surveillance is nothing I´m experienced in, but well, I´m always glad to help a friend like you." [short break] "May I ask why you need her monitored? Just to know how close you need me to watch her and if I need some strong hands to help me serve proper protection if needed." Jenever takes another sip of gin and tries to show a professional expression on his face.
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 03:00:05>>
Reed nodded, "Yes Mr. Jones, I have a few associates that may lend assistance. There is the matter of remuneration..." It occurred to Reed that 2Fresh might not know the definition of the word remuneration, "...that being payment. Some of my associates are a fair bit less professional than I when it comes to low ball offers, so we should finalize the details before I contact them."
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<<Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 03:00:10>>
"I... I don't know what. Look how much do I need to get help?"
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Jenever's Trailer - Seattle <<2072.09.30 11:32:27>>
"I just need her watched, and only watched."
Vegas waves away the gin, curling his lip around in his tusk in a grimace, "You know I don't like that stuff, rots your gut."
The ork resettles his coat on his shoulders and steps out of the trailer, rocking the trailer again, "I have to know, but you don't have to. Let it be, Billy can take care of herself. And get the damned chinaman to fix that trailer."
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<<Armadillo Bar: 2072.10.01 Midnight Saturday - Noon Sunday >>
After the initial panic recedes, Jack encourages Rozalie to re-open the bar for the last few hours of the night. He contacts some of the Armadillo's riggers and asks them to deploy a couple of drones and send the feeds to his comm link. Then he settles himself at the front of the door to keep a lookout for trouble and try to formulate a plan.
Over the next few hours he turns the problem over in his mind and bounces ideas off of a few of the more level headed and seasoned members of the Armadillos. He could retaliate, but honestly Carlson is the one who started things. That's why there's the rule about not hacking people at the bar! Jack's sure everyone knows that, but he's not surprised one of the new kids would try something stupid. Carlson was probably nervous. Why didn't I realize how scared they all were? Some of these folks actual have familes that kept them away from this sort of trouble.
Jack suppresses the stab of envy he feels at the thought of being raised by a family - even in the barrens - and goes back to working the problem. Simple retaliation would be a mistake. There are too many 405s to kill all at once, so that would start a gang war that the Armadillos would loose.
Maybe if I can keep the incident quiet enough, it can end here. Smith has a silver tongue. Maybe I can get him a private talk with the head of this set, and we can call it even.
When the last of the customers leaves Jack raids the bar's stash of longhaul and continues to devote his attention to watching for trouble. As he walks the area around and inside the bar he plays out attacks from every conevable angle and how to move things around to make the place more defensible. A table shifted here, a window redone there. Would make it more impressive looking too. Less likely to have trouble if the place looks like it's ready for trouble.
By noon on Sunday Jack reviews the dossiers on each of the 405s that was in the bar and has formulated the beginnings of a plan. Get the head of the set alone before word spreads up the chain, and convince him to leave things as they stand. We hacked them- they dump-shocked the whole crew - it's done. Jack has a bit of a feel for the guy by now.
Would Intimidate work best? Etiquette? Negotiation? Do I need to kill him quietly and have the next guy in line take over before pitching the deal?
As each person arrives, Jack thanks them for coming and gets them some food and a drink. When the last person he's expecting arrives, Jack shows the group to a private room in the back and explains what he knows about the situation and his idea about how to fix things. "So, I can't give you guys much for this. Anyone who agrees to help I'll give 100 nuyen right now. I can probably swing another hundred once this is wrapped up, but that's about it - at least until I get paid again. I burned through most of what I got from the last run already. But the Armadillos would owe you a favor, and that's not nothing. We run a pirate server, so I could get you some software dirt cheap.* Maybe a tacsoft or something? Would be handy for other jobs." You can already hear his disappointment as he finishes "I know some of you have other work, and the money ain't great. No hard feelings if you're not interested. Lunch is on the house for coming by and I wish you the best. But I need to get this issue settled before I can do anything else." Jack really doesn't seem to expect many people to agree to help, but it's pretty obvious that he'd appreciate it.
intuition 4 +char 2 =1 bought hit (judge intentions) to have gotten a read on the guy in charge based on the interactions Jack saw in the bar
Intuition 4 + Seattle street gang knowledge 4=2 bought hits to know the guys rep or more generally how this sort of things has been done in the past.
Any info the other Armadillos can put together [jack would have data-search 4 + browse 6 + hot sim 2 + feng shui 3 =15 dice on an extended test to dig up information alone, and if his agent assists him it would net another die.- presumably there are others who are at least as good or better and they could cooperate to get 20+ dice easily]
* pirated software is 10% of cost, but its rating degrades over time - Unwired p94.
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Killer-B, Skraacha Control Section Seattle Underground <<2072.10.01 17:49:30>>
The halfer nodded and smirked, "Understood. Save my crudeness for the appropriate people. Don't worry, I have something very sophisticated in mind, cultured even. I just need your attendance in case of crudeness."
"I'll let you know when the face to face will be then?"
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Jenever's Trailer - Seattle <<2072.09.30 11:32:27>>
"It´s Jenever from lovely Leeuwaarden in Friesland you will miss something."
Jenever follows him to the door and leans against the frame still holding his glas. "Listen Vegas the offer sounds good and there is no doubt I will do it. Just let me know when you are back. Will send the feet to you as soon as I started to watch her. Got some nice drones to do this job.” He takes a big sip again and looks at Vegas. “Nice that you came by. Have a nice trip.”
When Vegas left he will go inside and write a message to Jack.
<<AR|VR:Jenever:: <<“Hey man, I could use some help. I need to trace an AccessID. Could you help me out with that? >> >>
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 03:00:15>>
Reed mulled numbers over in his head for a moment before speaking, "25,000¥ with half up front. I know that sounds like a lot, but how much has Linda's death cost you? And how much more do you stand to lose if this is the first of many attacks? Could you really stomach seeing anymore of your girls end up like this?"
[spoiler=Negotiation Roll]
Pool: 17 ( Cha 7 + Negotiation(Bargaining) 10) Hits: 6
Roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3684597/)
[/spoiler]
Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 12:00:00 >>
Reed nearly cringed at Jack's public speaking skills, Good god he's a terrible speaker. If I hadn't accepted this job, I fear what this situation would've devolved into. He'd agreed to the job last night, but it seemed that Jack could use a bit of help convincing the others. He nodded to Jack, "I'm willing to help you Mr. Jack." He turned to the others, "It wouldn't hurt to get on the good side of a cabal of hackers and if we're all going to be working together then we should be willing to go a bit out of our ways for one another, within reason of course."
<<AR - Text: Jack:: You should speak with more assertion. If you aren't confident in what you're saying, then how can we?>>
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Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 12:00:00 >>
"What kind of job are you looking for it to be. Talking ain't really my thing. If you need something dead, I can probably help with that though."
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Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:41:16>>
Saint spent several minutes refreshing his memory about the differences between Barghests and Hell Hounds on any Matrix site that showed up in a generic search. After watching a "viral" video of called "Barghest vs Hell Hound" that showed two sleepy puppies licking each other then barking, he decides to type out a message to the crew.
(He checks his inbox first and reads the lunch meeting's summary.)
<<AR:Saint:Text:The Crew:: Hoi, chummers! Sorry I couldn't make it to lunch, but in exchange I got a lead on a job. What do you guys know of Barghests? Anyway, forwarding the materials to you all. We're going to need a Paranormal Hunter's License to start with, but it's 2,000 for each one we bring in. Mr. Smith might be able to raise that a bit further. Let me know.
Attached Files: Incidence Reports>>
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(@DireRadiant: still waiting on Turgan's answer to my post (http://forums.shadowrun4.com/index.php?topic=8456.msg151108#msg151108))
HardBoy - Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 12:01:00 >>
HB visibly perks up at the mention of a tacsoft. Amongst the things that he'd ditched when he dropped the merc job, that was one of those things he missed the most. Having extra eyes and ears was so convenient, and made coordination that much easier. Drek, that thing would be awesome to have again, especially if I run with a crew[/color]. The idea of having a collection of hackers owing you a favor was not without merit either. He could pick up and decrypt some enemy communications, but real hacking was beyond his ken, and with everything running on the Matrix, there were no doubt about the usefulness of that favor.
"Jack, count me in, and don't worry too much about the money." He grins sudden, showing that discomfiting row of fangs he has for teeth. "The 405s are rich kids, I'm sure we'll find something interesting... 'along the way'."
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HardBoy, Big Rhino Seattle <<2072.10.01 17:49:47>>
Turgan shrugged his shoulders in answer,"Depends on the weather, projections point to maybe Tuesday, Wednesday be good. But I need someone along because the Skraacha boys are a bit low right now. You're about as good as two of them, and lighter, so it works out better too."
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Above the Armadillo - Seattle <<2072.09.30 11:32:27>>
Jack is stretched out on a beat up old mattress immersed in a full VR session of Miracle Shooter when a message scrolls by in his peripheral vision.
<<AR|VR:Jenever:: <<“Hey man, I could use some help. I need to trace an AccessID. Could you help me out with that? >> >>
Jack's VR avatar takes cover behind a large tree as he sends back a quick reply
<<text: I'll take a look. Send me what you've got>>
When the access ID arrives, Jack initiates the trace in the same peripheral screen and keeps Amazonian Hunting Safari front and center. In about a minute, Jack replies with the following
<<text: Easy enough. It's transmitting from Club Vegas in Puyullap. Why?>>
As he sends the message, a poisonous viper drops onto his avatar from a tree. Son of a...
Jack abandons his slain avatar, shifting his focus fully to the access ID for the first time. wonder who this is...
Jack devotes 1 IP to the trace and 2 to the game, but should still accumulate successes quite quickly, since the trace takes initiative passes.
[computer 4 + track 3 + feng shui 3 + hotsim 2 - target's stealth program] (10, 1 IP). Succeeds if the stealth program is 2 or lower, I think.
Then a data-search on the ID: datasearch 4 + browse 6 + hotsim 2 + fengshui 3 =15 dice.
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Killer-B, Skraacha Control Section Seattle Underground <<2072.10.01 17:49:30>>
Benny nodded and responded in his native tongue, "As I said, I've got your back, Doc. Just drop me a line with the when and where of your meet, and I'll be there, assuming I'm not dead or dying elsewhere at that time, of course."
Having already started to turn to leave, Benny paused momentarily at the chop-shop's door, "By the by, I'm thinking about getting some of those wage slave wires. I just did a job with this new crew and it kind of got me thinking I need to expand my horizons a bit. So, if you come into a set or something, let me know."
Unnamed Dive Bar - Ork Underground, Seattle <<2072.10.01 22:33:00>>
The way back to his place from Zeke's chop-shop, Benny had stopped at a local dive bar for drink, when Jack's message came in over his line. Well, that's convenient. Guess this saves me having to call him for a favor.
AR | I'm basically free, so I'll be there tomorrow. However, I'll drop that modest fee offer of yours if you could do me a solid in return. I need information on a dirt-napped drug/biotech smuggler, possibly even an organlegger, who went by the name of 'Alvarez'. I may have dealing with the guys who put him out of business, and I'd really prefer not be flying into that sort of situation blind. Anything you can dig up would probably be useful, and then you could keep your cash and just consider us all squared-up.
Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 12:05:11 >>
Benny rolled up to the Armidillo on his chopper but didn't really say much when he entered, other than shooting Jack and the others present a casaul Or'Zet 'what-up', as it were. However, when Jack spoke up about the pay, Benny perked up a bit, and apparently not too concerned about others present hearing, replied in English. "Like I s'ed to ya yesterday. You can keep da nyuen, if you don' mind pullin' that intel I told you 'bout."
Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:42:09 >>
Benny glanced at the message from Saint. Which one was that again? Oh yeah, Mr. Eight-Ways. Since he figured everyone else present was getting the same message too, Benny didn't feel the need to comment on it, but honestly he was beginning to feel exasperated. Potentially murderous bio-smugglers for Zeke' some richboy, hacking, ganger-wannabes for Jack; and now some vicious paracritters on the line from this Saint guy. In earnest, Benny had never been so flush with job offers. Then again, he'd also never heard of there ever being a recession in the shadows either. Nonetheless, Benny responded.
AR | A bit tied up at the moment with Jack's business, but I do have a general bounty hunting license. It's not paracritter hunting specific, but if your job involves an actual posted bounty on the beasties, I should be able to at the very least have a temporary permit issued on my license. Might have to grease the wheels a bit though. What's the time table on this?
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Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:43:32>>
<<AR:Sway::Soonest. I'm gonna head to the area now, see if I can talk to the lady that got hurt. The message was sent to other people, don't know how many, so we may have competition. Tell everyone there that, will ya? Barghests, or even Hellhounds, operate in pairs usually so it could be 4000 nuyen for the both of them alive.
We're gonna need a "Seattle Metro Paranormal Hunter License", if you can add that to your bounty hunter license I'll split half of the cost.>>
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HardBoy, Big Rhino Seattle <<2072.10.01 17:51:15>>
Skraacha a bit low? Well that's good to know. HB made a show of "consulting his agenda" for a second before answering Turgan. "Tuesday or Wednesday? Because that ain't leaving much time, though I doubt I'll have something keebing me busy for them next four days." He pondered a second more, staring into the remains of his so non-Jewish ribs as an haruspex would peer into entrails in search of a mystical answer. Hell, 1.000 for basically sitting down and being a nanny sure sounds interesting.
"Yanni... alright, color me interested. Don't think anything else should come ub anyhow. Just to be sure though, three questions first: where am I going, where am I embarking from, and what's the name of the guy I'll be working with?"
HardBoy Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:43:11 >>
As they are getting into what they should do about the 405s, HB also receives Saint's message.
AR : Saint :: Omae, we're kind of in a bind here. How 'bout you come to the Armadillo and help us out? Then we can talk about your thing. Besides, we might be dealing with hell hounds, so magic subbort would be good. As for Barghest, don't know much, big dogs, but at least they don't breathe fire.
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Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:44:04>>
AR:HardBoy::Yeah, I think I'll join you guys there after all. Somehow, I feel like things are about to get interesting for us all.
Saint - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:58:32>>
Saint showered and shaved, putting on his body armour then the cleanest t-shirt and jeans he could find. He chooses his lighter lined coat. He stores his trust FN 5-7C in its own concealed holster, carrying a clip of Stick-N-Shock inside and a spare clip of Ex-Ex stored with the holster.
Before leaving for the bar, Saint closes his eyes and slows down his breathing. He decides to call a cab.
He summons a Force 4 Spirit of Man with the Innate Spell Stunball.
Summoning Test (Summon 3, Magic 4) (7d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3686816/) - 2 hits
Force 4 Spirit of Man (4d6.hits(5)=0) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3686817/) - 0 hits
Saint sends the Spirit to the Astral to wait until it's needed.
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 03:00:32>>
2Fresh pales, and waveringly responds, "25 large... I... I can't."
He stands up, rubbing his face once, "Time to leave, thanks. "
Waiting at the door, he holds out a box "Linda won't need these anymore, and you can have this for your trouble."
The box contains 50 doses of eX.
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Jack - Armadillo Bar <<2072.10.01 22:33:00>>
AR | I'm basically free, so I'll be there tomorrow. However, I'll drop that modest fee offer of yours if you could do me a solid in return. I need information on a dirt-napped drug/biotech smuggler, possibly even an organlegger, who went by the name of 'Alvarez'. I may have dealing with the guys who put him out of business, and I'd really prefer not be flying into that sort of situation blind. Anything you can dig up would probably be useful, and then you could keep your cash and just consider us all squared-up.
Since Jack is focused primarily on watching for trouble, it takes most of the night for him to finish a datasearch on Alvarez the Seattle smuggler.
<AR| I’m sending a file with the information I found. See you tomorrow>>
Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:43:11 >>
<<AR – Text: Smith::Thanks for the tip and for the help.>>
Jack isn’t just relieved when everyone agrees – he’s clearly a bit surprised as well “Well, uh, thanks. So what do you guys thing about the plan? I found the home address of the head of the subgroup of 405s that came by here. He goes by Junior "Basset" Delaney, and stays at 11250 Southeast 6th Street in Bellevue. We did a pretty good job with last week’s home invasion, so maybe we try that routine again?
A couple people can go by, all casual like, and scope the place out. Maybe keep an eye out for when he’s there alone. When we’re ready I can shut down any security system the building has. Then we can go in, talk to him, and leave. Either Mr. Smith or I can take care of the talking.
It will go smoothest if we can get in and out without anyone seeing us. We might want to wear masks or something too, just to be sure.
In the meantime, I’ll open up a tab at the bar for you guys. When you’re not busy, you can come by here, hang out and keep an eye out for trouble. The manager’s name is Rozalie. I’ll let her know you guys are available if the 405s show up. I haven’t slept since they came through last night, but eventually I’ll need to.
Datasearch on 'Alvarez' the smuggler:
Browse 6 + datasearch 4 + fengshui 3 +1 die from agent assist=14 dice. Buys 19 hits on the datasearch before I run out of dice.
Agent – browse 3 + agent rating 3 = 1 hit to assist the first 3 rolls – then it runs out of dice.
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Linda's Place, Corner of Old Redmond Road and 148th Ave NE - Redmond, Seattle <<2072.10.01 03:00:45>>
Well, at least this isn't my problem now and I got paid a thousand to see a "tough macho thug" like 2Fresh in a state of breakdown. He took the box, "I'm sorry we couldn't come to an arrangement. You could have made a counter offer, by the way. In any case, good luck with your problem. I hope it works out for you" He made his way down the hall rummaging through the box, Damn, there's got to be a least a couple hundred bucks in here.
Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 13:43:11 >>
<<AR - Text: Saint:: I can make the attempt Mr. Saint, but rates like those tend to be set in stone.>>
"I believe it would be best if you left negotiations to me Mr. Jack, after all that is my role in this joint partnership. Do you have any kind of psych evaluation or personal data on this Delaney? Before we go about breaking and entering his home, it would be helpful for my negotiations to know his temperament and if he has any buttons I can push or should avoid. Also, the team that directly confronts Delaney should be me, Jack, and only one other. We want to put him on the defensive, but not overly so as to make him unreasonable."
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Exile - Armadillo Ba <<2072.10.02 13:43:20 >>
"Like I said, talking ain't my thing. Like you all said, I stand out in a crowd, so watching ain't really my thing either. I'll sit around here for a day, but then I've got to try and find some money. If your need things dead, let me know."
Exile stands up and walks over to the bar, not really interested in the rest of the conversation.
Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 (Whatever time Saint gets there) >>
When Saint arrives at the bar, Exile stands up and walks over to him. This job involving the paranormal thingy-whatzits, are we going to go talk to them, like Jack there wants to do with his problems, or is there actually going to be some action involved?
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Benny kind of furrowed his brow a bit at the continued references to the unusual-ness of eye-banded trolls appearance. Of course, the troll didn't exactly come off as the smartest or most socially adept guy around, and he did look a bit odd, so it was to be expected. "Hey big'un, you know wit' one of dem holo-hoodies an may-bee some colorable threads, you could be walking around lookin' like just anodder trog. Add some eye-catchin' but junkable akcess-or-rees, and you be sup'rised how eee-zee it iz to be skirt positive eye-dees. Stuf ain't even dat expensiff. It ain't perfec't, but den nothin' really is..."
After giving Exile that piece of apparel advise, Benny moves towards Jack, casually commenting to the other Ork on his plans with Mr. Smith.
[spoiler=Or'zet Speech]"I'm actually fairly keen on getting this business settled with swiftly. I didn't sign on for a long-term security gig after all. Haven't worked as a bouncer since I was like twelve, and I don't really intend on backsliding. But you held up your end of the deal, so I'll be holding up mine. That's just good business. So if you two are going in, I'll be tagging along to square things up. Probably best that I hang back out of sight though, if and until things get hairy. Hidden eyes and all that." [/spoiler]
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Jenever's surveillance job (Trailer) - Seattle <<2072.09.30 11:40:15 >>
After Vegas left, Jenever takes a minute to check his gear and drink another glass of his Dutch Gin. Then he receives Jacks answer and responds.
<<AR:Jenever:: <<Thanks, you helped me a lot. It´s just a friend of a friend who needs a second shadow for the weekend. I owe you. Should buy some programms myself someday.>> >>
A couple of minutes later he leaves towards Club Vegas.
Jenever's surveillance job (neighbourhood Club Vegas) - Seattle<<2072.09.30 13:05:01 >>
Jenever knowing that Billy has a room in the upper levels of Club Vegas and her accesID is streaming from inside the building assumes that she might be in her room at this time of day. Despite the closed windows he is able to get a picture of the inside of Billy`s room via his ultrawideband radar. Thanks to the olfactory sensor he is able to verify the body inside as female. He starts to pipe the feed of the ultrawideband radar to his fixer and waits until something inside changes.
Jenever's surveillance job (neighbourhood Club Vegas) - Seattle<<2072.09.30 18:05:01 >>
Almost two hours before club Vegas changes from a pure AR casino to a nightclub, the female body inside the room shows signs of awaking. The typical “morning” preparations like showering and getting dressed begin. Unfortunately for Jenever the image of the ultrawideband radar is not as good as a real camera so he gets a rather abstract view of what is happening inside.
When she leaves the room Jenever leaves his Van and goes inside the club. He just brings the fly-spy inside and leave after a while. The night goes without remarkable occurrences Billy works as waitress and barkeeper for the whole night. She welcomes some regular customers of club Vegas and talks to some guys who try to get her attention. Jenever finds out that the smell of the female body from the room is the same that Billy has.
Jenever spends the night in his van parked in a street close to the Club and gets a more or less constant feed of Billy from his drone. He occupies him self with having some glasses of cheep vodka with orange juice and watching a movie called “From tusk till dawn”. Somewhen during the night he prepares some food with the autochief he has installed in his van. Short before 8 in the morning of the next day he steers the fly-spy out of the club following a customer who was one of the last occupants to leave.
Jenever's surveillance job (neighbourhood Club Vegas) - Seattle<<2072.10.01 8:05:01 >>
According to the smell and the ultrawideband image Billy goes to bed. Jenever as well falls a sleep in the cosy seat of the rigger cocoon.
Jenever's surveillance job (somewhere in Puyallup) - Seattle<<2072.10.01 15:00:33 >>
After 33 seconds constant ringing of the alarm clock inside Billys room also Jenever awakes from the transmitted sound.. He follows the preparations of Billy who leaves the building at almost 5 pm. Since the fly-spy is well equipped but not very fast and Billy is going with her scooter Jenever starts his recon drone a Optic X aerial drone to follow her on her way.
She makes her way through a good part of Puyallup and stops in front of a dingy looking hairdresser's shop. Jenever gets a good picture from the inside of the shop through the clear windows. A gay looking Trog hairstylist is giving her a new haircut.
Jenever's surveillance job (south Auburn) - Seattle<<2072.10.01 19:00:01 >>
After Billy left the hairdresser she wents to meet up with an afro-american dwarf women in a nice restaurant in south Auburn. According to the talk they both are friends and the dwarf women could be some kind of tech. They have a personal chat also including Vegas. Jenever is not polite enough to not record the conversation and will transmit the chat to Vegas as well.
Jenever's surveillance job (somewhere in Puyallup) - Seattle<<2072.10.01 22:31:01 >>
Billy leaves to a party she told her friend about. So Jenever follows her to a club called Indigo Palace where the young lower class of Puyallup parties.
Jenever does the same as already in Club Vegas. Go in and let the fly-spy do the job inside. Thanks to the chameleon coating and it´s capabilities it can stay out of reach of most people and will avoid tall trolls or elves.
Billy parties with her friends a group of gang members and lower class citizen. They appear to consume not just alcohol but also some other substances the olfactory sensor assess as some party drugs.
She talks intensive with some guys at the party but Jenever is not able to hear the whole conversation due to the noisy music. But he has feed the image of her talking to the guys to Vegas. <<VR:Vegas::Jenever <<Don´t you tell anyone that you did this for me!>> >>
When Jenever gets Jacks message he answers.<<VR:Jenever::Jack <<Nahh, forgett the money. But ain´t sure if I can make it for lunch right now. But if you need me I will come somewhen during the afternoon. Still on the job....>> >>
Jenever's surveillance job (somewhere in Puyallup) - Seattle<<2072.10.02 04:37:35 >>
Jenever doze in his van while his drone is still feeding from the Indigo Palace. Eventually he realizes that Billy is gone. Checking with his drone the rooms of the Palace he finds her excessively kissing an Asian human who looks like one of these manga freaks. Kut! Wat een smerige vent.
They both leave the club and take a drone taxi to an apartment building not far from the club. Since Jenever didn´t see how they came in contact he couldn´t say whether or not they knew each other before. But judging by the behavior they most likely knew each other before but he was not one of the group Jenever watched earlier.
When they enter the house Jenever becomes flutter since he has no clue in which apartment they are going. He also doesn't want to lose his fly-spy so he won´t send the drone in after them.
To increase his chance to find them he releases his roto-drone to check the buildings back while the fly-spy is checking the front of the building.
Fortunate for him the light goes on in one of the apartments and he sees Billy and this guy entering the apartment. Since the windows of this old apartment complex are all clear and the guy appears to have no curtains Jenever is able to see inside the flat.
His fly-spy drone feeds the whole events of the rest of the night to Jenever and Vegas. But Jenever is too tired after those two days of constant working so that he nestles himself in the seat and soon falls asleep. He fully relies on the pilotsoft of his drone to manage the audio and video recording.
Jenever's surveillance job (somewhere in Puyallup) - Seattle<<2072.10.02 13:20:15 >>
Billy leaves the apartment building and heads to get her scooter which is parked next to the Indigo Palace. Jenever follows her with his Optic X drone in the air. She looks weary and drives back to Club Vegas.
Still submitting the feed from his drones camera he gets a message from Vegas <<VR:Vegas::Jenever <<Hey man, have you seen this yesterday? Anyway thanks for your while. You can stop watching her when she is securely back at the Vegas. Thanks again. .>> >>
Jenever's – near Club Vegas in Puyallup - Seattle<<2072.10.02 14:03:00 >>
<<VR:Jenever::Jack <<just finished the job. Just let me know if you still need my assistance? Would love to help out if you got a good cup of coffee.>> >>
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Saint - Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:47:32>>
Saint walks in and offers a friendly hello wave with his metallic right hand. He smiles at Exile who walked in closer.
Looking at Exile, "Well, we can try talking to the barghests or hell hounds or dire kittens, and if you can get them to come along quietly it'll save me a headache and us ammo." He grins at Exile. "There'll be action alright, but we need them 'whole' with no extra 'holes'."
He looks around, "Sorry I'm late, what I'd miss?"
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(Presuming we've done some chitchat, drank a few beers and/or made vague attempts at a plan until Saint shows up; Ethan, you can presume HB filled up Saint on what was going on via AR messaging while he was on his way)
Hardboy - Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:32>>
HB choked on his beer at the mention of "dire kittens", bursting out into a short, raucous laugh. "Dire kittens... heh! And I guess we could get shock 'em unconscious, or use narcoject or slab-filled rounds..." Pushing away his empty beer, he swivelled on the bar stool to face everyone.
"So, what're we gonna do 'bout the Hellhounds?" asks the hobgoblin. "I'm thinking a good old shakedown might be in order: take out a few of their guys, though not bermanently, just a few broken bones, then we talk to their boss. He'll be mighty more cooberative if he's feeling alone."
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Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:35>>
"I have a question about this plan of yours Mr. Jack. I'm assuming that since you wish a peaceful resolution and that currently we're planning on breaking into his home, then this Delaney has already declined to attend a sit down, yes?"
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Saint - Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:49>>
Saint shrugs at the guys and smiles. He orders ice water and some food, paying for it before anyone could say anything, and takes a seat and listens.
"Well, you don't have to go in all alone." He leans in conspirtorially, "I can send in a Spirit to obey one of you guys while we hang outside. He'll show up when you call."
Straightening up, Saint cocks his head to the left as a shimmering figure appears. The Spirit's dressed in a nice business suit, with a fedora and a pair of glasses, and a nice pair of shoes that doesn't seem to be touching the ground. His skin is translucent.
"Everyone, this is Paulie--a Spirit of Man. He usually shows up when I beg the astral for help." The Spirit of Man smirks at the assembled group, and makes a gun-shooting gesture with his right hand. He fades into the air moments later, waving casually.
"If one of you takes Paulie along, treat him nice okay? I gotta live with the Spirit." Saint requests, in between chewing his food.
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Jenever's – near Club Vegas in Puyallup - Seattle<<2072.10.02 14:03:00 >>
<<VR:Jenever::Jack <<just finished the job. Just let me know if you still need my assistance? Would love to help out if you got a good cup of coffee.>> >>
<<AR:Jack <<Drinks are on the house, so at least come by for that. We've started planning and would love your input..>> >>
Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:35>>
"I have a question about this plan of yours Mr. Jack. I'm assuming that since you wish a peaceful resolution and that currently we're planning on breaking into his home, then this Delaney has already declined to attend a sit down, yes?"
"You can't just send him a message saying 'lets have a chat over tea'!" Jack replies, sounding frustrated Is this guy that clueless? Does it even make sense to take him? Jack takes a breath to calm himself than continues in a more normal tone "Look, if I send him a message, and he shows up -which he probably wouldn't - he'll show up with half the gang. In a public meeting he /can't/ back down. It basically guarantees I'll have to kill him and probably everyone else that shows up to the meet - and pray he didn't bother to tell anyone where he was going. Maybe we can lure him out if we go through his family, but that's got the potential to get pretty messy. The key point is that any negotiating needs to be done one on one. If you think you can convince him to let things go without every actually meeting him in person then maybe we could try that, but you'd have to be careful not to put him on alert or something."
Saint - Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:49>>
"If one of you takes Paulie along, treat him nice okay? I gotta live with the Spirit." Saint requests, in between chewing his food.
Jack nods acknowledgement to Paulie and tells Saint He'd be perfect. The key point is that we need a small enough group that we can get in without tripping any alerts, but he'd be invisible so that's no problem at all.
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Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:55>>
If there was one thing Reed couldn't stand it was being talked down to, especially by a ruffian like Jack. He construed an exaggerated expression of awe on his face, "So acting in a civil and professional manner will get you a violent outcome, and acting like an uncouth thug will get you a peaceful outcome?" He sarcastically slapped himself in the forehead, "How did I not see it before? I see I can learn much from your people skills." He mocking bowed to Jack in an Eastern fashion. As he rose, Reed's standard neutral expression returned, "Its simple really, I contact him about negotiating a truce, stating a neutral location and terms of the meet, such as number of representatives. Ideally, in this non breaking and entering plan, it would be me and him with, at most, one more each, with you guys nearby for backup of course. If he agrees to the meet, you have a greater chance at a peaceful resolution. As far as I can tell though, you just want to antagonize the guy to create an excuse to kill a bunch of people."
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Jenever – Crazy BUrGer Drive In - Seattle<<2072.10.02 14:30:04 >>
<<AR:Jack <<Drinks are on the house, so at least come by for that. We've started planning and would love your input..>> >>
Jenever just finished his Crazy BUrGer meal when he got Jacks reply. Hey, drinks for free? Honestly?
He starts the engine of his Hermes Van and drives towards the Armadillo. As usual he jumps in the van to feel the street under his wheels and the air flowing over the front shield.
While riding he writes his fixer a short note. <<VR:Jenever::Vegas <<Hey Vegas, glad I could help you. I hope I did as you expected it. We should meet up some time. >> >>
Jenever – Armadillo Bar - Seattle<<2072.10.02 14:50:19 >>
He parks the van on the street close to the Armadillo and releases his Optic X drone to keep an eye on the area.
Then he enters the Armadillo Bar and orders two glasses of vodka with orange juice and a big mug of coffee via AR. Approaching the group of chummers at the table he says:
Hello everyone, nice to see you all back. Thanks Jack for helping me out the other day, that´s not forgotten. (...) You got a plan already? And were is it all about?
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Saint - Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:50:32 >>
"Hoi, Jenever," Saint says glancing up as he keeps both hands on his food, "seems we're going to be trying some gang diplomacy."
Some time later, a visibly stuffed Saint leans back and listens to the conversations before straightening up. "As much as I'd like to believe in the honour of the street, or whatever gangs ascribe to, this fella won't go alone and neither will he take his whole...err gang along." Looking at each one seriously in the eyes, "I don't want to do the same job twice. If it comes to it, I'd like to be able to hit both the leader and his retinue and the rest of the gang at the same time. Or within a reasonable lag time."
"I'm not saying we split up, but that it'd be nice to know where the other gangers are. If it comes to shooting, I prefer to shoot first and last." He adds with a shrug. "I'm not built to take that many bullets. If they have a hideout or den or whatever, I can at least put a watcher spirit there."
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Armadillo Bar - Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:50:35 >>
Reed walked off to find a quieter place. After finding one, Reed made the call to Delaney.
<<AR - Audio Only::Delaney: Good day Mr. Delaney, my name is Mr. Smith. I have been contracted by a member of the Armadillo Bar to act as a conflict mediator. As such, I wish to arrange a meeting in hopes of negotiating a peaceful resolution to the current conflict between your two groups. If you agree to a meet, there are two preconditions. First, the meet takes place on neutral territory, I know of an excellent bar & grill in Renton, my buy of course. Secondly, is the limit of attendees, myself and a single representative of the Armadillo Bar would meet with yourself and one other representative of your group. If we are in agreement, I would like to hold this meeting this evening, at let's say six o'clock.>>
Negotiation 8 + Charisma 7 = Pool 15
Result: 6 hits
Roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3701507/)
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HardBoy, Big Rhino Seattle <<2072.10.01 17:51:21>>
"Yanni... alright, color me interested. Don't think anything else should come ub anyhow. Just to be sure though, three questions first: where am I going, where am I embarking from, and what's the name of the guy I'll be working with?"
Turgan grinned and raised his Soy B 50 can in the air and tapped his own chest, "This tusker here. Got and old Cloud 9 in Pirates Cove we'll be running out. Cover is a Salmon river run up the coast, but we'll be doing a touchdown somewhere out in the big wide open."
"Hope you can swim."
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Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:55:05 >>
Reed smiled at Jack as he rejoined the group, "Delaney has agreed to my terms for a meeting. I've scheduled it for 6 o'clock this evening at Donovan's Bar and Grill. The place isn't high brow by any means, but you're going to need to look a bit more presentable Mr. Jack, as to not draw undue attention onto yourself."
Reed turned to the others, "Mr. Jack and myself are going to be the only ones officially meeting with Mr. Delaney. While I don't expect a confrontation in a crowded restaurant at peak hours, I'd still like to have at least two of you inside the building, acting as patrons, for back up if something goes awry."
Reed checked the time, "Well we have about three hours until the meeting. I'll meet you at the restaurant around 5:30 Mr. Jack. Until then, good day gentlemen."
Reed left to return home to change into his suit, and arm himself with both of his pistols and his extendable baton.
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:25:00 >>
Reed arrived early to get a table with a clear view of the entrance so that he could flag down Delaney when the man arrived. He also ordered for the group so that the food would be ready by the time everyone had arrived. At the moment he was waiting for Jack to show up so that they could go over a few items before beginning negotiations. He idly wondered which of the team would be arriving, if any, as back up.
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Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:57:13 >>
“I´m sorry Mr. Smith but I think I wouldn´t be the right one to come inside the bar with you guys. But I can still help you by staying close and having some drones on the watch. If someone needs a ride I could help out with that too.”
To Saint and Jack: ”Sure, that´s part of my job. I will be outside in the van having a nap we leave 16:45.”
Jenever has some more drinks and leaves when most of the rest leaves. He will have a nap in his van and then leave to Donovan's Bar and Grill.
Jenever's van next to Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 16:45:00 >>
The van is a big blue delivery van. Nothing special but you might think that is intended.
The inside of the van is empty since he has no cargo on board but the few drones he has yet. Two of the drones are even in the respective drone racks so you won't see them.
There are three standard seats plus a rigger cocoon in the back next to the drone rack. He also has a soy-chief and a fridge inside.
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:23:13 >>
Jenever stopped to let Jack out and drove the rest of the way to park his van in a side alley near to the Donovan's he releases his Optic X to have an eye on the area. He also sends the Fly Spy to a position close to the door of the Donovan's to check the entering patrons for weapons, implants and explosives. He makes a list and shares pictures of the patrons and found objects with the rest of the group.
Yes Mr. Saint, I´m a rigger and I might indeed know someone to get such a motorcycle.
But I wouldn't advise a motorcycle. Look at Jack, you always need someone to carry the large gear... I would prefer a nice small car. You could also do your mojo stuff better in a car then on a two wheeler.
I can do a roll if necessary.
The following just if the area allows it.
He also let´s the concealed doberman climb a roof opposite to the Donovan´s to be ready to assist if needed.
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SAINT
Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:57:33 >>
Waving to get Jenever's attention, Saint asks, "Can I get a ride with you then? I can go inside or stay in the van and provide some astral cover. Mr. Smith, Paulie's with you," Saint adds a moment later.
He looks down at the remains of the soyburger. "Hmm, I should've saved this for the stakeout."
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:24:02 >>
"You know, I think it's time I got my own ride. I used to ride a motorcycle back in the day, but it wasn't actually mine." Sainit volunteers to Jenever. "You're a rigger, right? Know anyone selling a cheap bike that won't fall apart?"
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JACK
Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:57:33 >>
"I could use a ride too" Jack says "And someplace to leave my gear, in case I need it quick. Sounds like Smith wants us to go in unarmed."
Jack heads upstairs to his apartment and pulls off the worn jeans and shirt he was wearing - but leaves his body armor on underneath. After a little thought he decides to take Mr. Smith's advice and dress up a bit for the meet. Jack pulls out his best outfit- the one he wears to the club on those rare occasions when he goes. When this goes south, he can't say I didn't take it seriously.
Before the meet, Jack's does a little more digging into Junior.
I want to know two things. First, what is Junior's first name (I'm guessing I already found that). Second, does a data search on his parents and siblings give Jack any idea as to how close Junior is to them? I'm thinking I can pull up things like the court record for the divorce, which parent he shares citizenship with, who lives near him, etc. I don't need you to make up the individual answers to questions really, just what sense I get of which members of his immediate family he's close to and which he doesn't particularly care for. Also, if any of them come up as 'runners, gangers, or anything like that I'd want to know.
file - broadcast encrypted to the team and the Armadillo's: here's what I've dug up on Junior and his family.
Also, I want to put someone in the Armadillos on alert. I let them know that I'm going into the meet. I'd like someone there to be plugged into my comm link and ready to run a quick facial recognition and datasearch on whoever shows up with Junior.
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:25:00 >>
Jack walks the last few blocks to Donovan's alone. On the way in he keeps a eye out for an ambush and notes where the building's exits are. As he pulls up a chair to join Reed, Jack takes a moment to get a feel for its heft - in case he needs to use it as a weapon - before he sit. "So, what's good?"
AR message - broadcast encrypted to Reed and the team: So, what's the play here? Let him know the Armadillos are willing to overlook the fact that he dumpshocked a bunch of us and tell him we make better friends than enemies? If it comes to that, he has a lot to loose if things get ugly.
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:25:10 >>
Reed adjusted his sitting position, the pistol holstered at the small of his back was digging into his skin. He had the heavy pistol there, and the hold out in his jacket's integrated holster. Maybe I should have reversed where I have my guns. I wonder which makes more tactical sense. I should ask one of the others about that later. Reed nodded to Jack as he sat, "Hello."
<<AR - Encrypted Broadcast (Subvocal Microphone)::The Crew: My advise would be to try to get the Armadillo Bar's hack attempt and the Hellhound's subsequent dumpshock chalked up to a wash, and for all parties involved to bury the hatchet and walk away peacefully. I do not, repeat do not, recommend making threats, overt or subtle. From what I can gather from your intel, Delaney has the advantage over us in manpower and firepower. Peace is the only hope for the Armadillo Bar. If Delaney is amiable to a peaceful resolution, he may require some form of restitution though. Ultimately Mr. Jack, its your people that are on the line, so you're the one calling the shots here.>>
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I do not, repeat do not, recommend making threats, overt or subtle. From what I can gather from your intel, Delaney has the advantage over us in manpower and firepower. Peace is the only hope for the Armadillo Bar. If Delaney is amiable to a peaceful resolution, he may require some form of restitution though. Ultimately Mr. Jack, its your people that are on the line, so you're the one calling the shots here.>>
It takes a moment for Jack to puzzle out what restitution means. When he does his eyes widen in surprise and anger
crew: I'm not paying them. They came in and dumpshocked half the gang and made Rozalie cry. This punk is lucky I don't kick his ass from here to Chicago! I'm willing to offer him a pass for messing with us, but if I let him just walk all over us, what's next? Yeah, if the entire 405 goes to war with the Armadillo's, we can't defend the bar, but they would lose a whole lot more than that. More importantly, if Junior goes to war with Jack, Junior loses. And so does his whole damn family. It's in his best interest to make sure things don't ...escalate.
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:25:43 >>
Reed stared exasperated at Jack, "I thought, as the hacker, Jack would be smarter and have more sense than this. It would seem Saint and Jenever are my only hope for intellectual equals in this group."
<<AR - Encrypted Broadcast (Subvocal Microphone)::The Crew: You need to calm down and be reasonable. Your people are the ones who started this, and are the ones most vulnerable. We're negotiating from a weakened position, concessions will probably have to be made. This isn't about what Delaney will lose in a war, its what the Armadillo Bar will. What matters to you more; your pride or your people? Either way this meeting is happening, so don't actively sabotage it. Also if you don't like the terms withdraw in a professional manner, don't storm off like a child.>>
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SAINT
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:26:07 >>
"Hmm," Saint mused, "didn't think that one through, did I? I just wanted to get places fast," he says smiling. "I'd appreciate it if you could ask around, when you have the time."
Adjusting his earbuds to listen more clearly, Saint shrugs at Jenever as he hears the exchange.
<<AR::The Crew::Well, remember, I voted for attacking the gang before they know they're even at war... so... Dirt? I mean, do we have any dirt on this guy? Convincing him to play nice is probably the best play, otherwise we dig up some leverage. Or make our own. Uhh... I guess we're better off as 'friends' than as enemies is what we should go for. Just spitballing here.>>
As he's speaking, not subvocalizing, Saint gestures in the van. He even does air quotes as he says "friends".
<<AR::The Crew::When it gets closer to the time, I'll slip into the astral and look around. Anyone keeping an eye out for this guy so we can get a head's up? Oh, and please don't move me even if something happens. Wait till I get back in the meat.>>
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:25:43 >>
Reed stared exasperated at Jack, "I thought, as the hacker, Jack would be smarter and have more sense than this. It would seem Saint and Jenever are my only hope for intellectual equals in this group."
<<AR - Encrypted Broadcast (Subvocal Microphone)::The Crew: You need to calm down and be reasonable. Your people are the ones who started this, and are the ones most vulnerable. We're negotiating from a weakened position, concessions will probably have to be made. This isn't about what Delaney will lose in a war, its what the Armadillo Bar will. What matters to you more; your pride or your people? Either way this meeting is happening, so don't actively sabotage it. Also if you don't like the terms withdraw in a professional manner, don't storm off like a child.>>
<<the crew: My pride? If this were about me, I would have killed half a dozen of them last night and once they started being careful moved on to their families. I've done it before, and it works fine. I can go to ground and a gang like this really can't. No, this is about what's best for the Armadillos. One of us tried to hack their system. In reply the 405s set of an EMP. That was their payback. That we don't retaliate for that is their concession. If we give more than that we're asking for trouble. The 405s will feel like they can push whenever they want, and so will every other gang in the area. That's why we can't give concessions. You can point out that if they don't cause us any more trouble then we can sell them software and hacking services, but only because that would be mutually beneficial going forward. >>
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:26:52 >>
Reed supressed the urge to roll his eyes at Jack, "Unintelligent, aggressive, and arrogant. Something tells me we're going to need to a replacement hacker in the near future."
<<AR - Encrypted Broadcast (Subvocal Microphone)::The Crew: Perhaps the Armadillo Bar should take this situation as a lesson in cost-benefit analytics. All actions have concequences, they should not have provoke the bigger fish without a plan in place to handle the fallout. As for you, this is obviously about your pride and apparently your arrogance. How else do you justify dragging your people into an esclation of violence only you are equiped to deal with? How is a cabal of hackers suppose to handle a gang war? In any event, this conversation is at an end. Delaney should be here soon, and we need to at least pretend that we're on the same page.>>
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(sorry for long delay, as I mentioned, no matter what I try, the forum no longer notifies me of replies and I kinda forgot to check on it)
HARDBOY
Big Rhino - Downtown, Seattle <<2072.10.01 17:52:12>>
HB arched an eyebrow, his hands hanging in mid-air as he was wiping them clean. "Swimming?" The hobgoblin was clearly not enthralled by the idea of getting himself wet, but then again, maybe he was afraid all the implants would make him sink like a stone. "I thought we were s'pposed to fly, not go on water." He heaved a sigh, dropping his soiled napkin on top of the remains of his non-kosher meal. As if I didn't have enough water leaking into my place, he wants me to go swin in the damn thing.
Pushing away his plate, the Israeli finally nods his assent. "Good thing I didn't sell my artificial gills, though finding a wetsuit my size is going to be a bitch. When are you going to know when we take off?"
Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:32>>
As everyone seemed to agree that a show of force was not the way to go, HB slumped on his barstool and ordered another cold one as everyone started filing out. "Well, if you guys need me, I'll take my bike for a spin somewhere near, so you can just ring me up."
Looking over at the eyebanded troll nearby, he nodded his way. "So... like video games?"
Outside Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:31:59 >>
Given Renton's 20% ork population, fitting was not such a problem for HB. Of course, Israeli hobgoblins riding inside the giant wheel of a Horizon-Doble Revolution were probably a lot less inconspicuous, though at least his body armour and rifle were stuffed in the bike's smuggling compartment. Spotting a coffee shop almost across the street from Donovan's, he went in to get a soycaf and what passed for a pastry before returning to his ride with his "meal", putting his feet up on the inside of the giant wheel and letting the gyrostabilization gizmo keep the whole thing upright. "Damn I love that thing."
<<AR - Encrypted Text (Encrypt 3)::The Crew: Should you guys need me, I'm sitting outside, I'll let you know if something weird comes up.>>
Looking at those passing by, he tries to make note of anyone sporting anything suspicious, like body armour or weapons.
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Armadillo Bar - Puyallup, Seattle <<2072.10.02 14:48:45>>
Exile looks at HB as he starts talking to him. "Never had the money to play. I could always try though. What's your favorite."
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:35:08 >>
The high pitched whine of super revved engines coupled with sonic enhancing pipes screamed through the nearby blocks as a pair of orange and red street bikes blurred across an intersection, cut across a corner and burned up to the Armadillo entrance in a pitch perfect stop. The blazing orange and red polyplast biker suits of armor dismounted, removing helmets to reveal a relatively nondescript human couple, brown hair ordinary next to their blazing bikes.
<<AR|VR: The vehicles display bright animatronic affects, blazing headlight eyes, wagging tail lights, paws cycling in time with the tires, turning watchful tracking noses abotu as the bikes come to a stop. Leasches mad of chains appear and spiral off into the distance.>>
The couple leave their helmets astride the blazing orange fuel tanks, and walk into Donovan's, making straight for the table. Just before sitting, the man nods at his companion, "Ginny. I'm Delaney."
<<AR:VR: The bike armor suits also display prominent animatronic decorations. Chains connect to their bikes, and off into the distance.>>
The subjects are Mundane, and confident.
"Let's Order!"
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:35:15 >>
Reed looked at Jack, "I'm guessing that's them. Remember to stay calm and to stay professional. This is your one chance to secure the Armadillo Bar's safety."Reed took a calming breath, "Time to get started" He rose as Delaney and his companion walked towards the table. Reed extended his hand to the Hellhounds, "Good evening. I am Mr. Smith, and my compatriot here is Mr. Jack." As Reed returned to his seat he brought up a copy of his food order for Delaney to review, "I took the liberty of ordering in advance the four highest rated dishes on the menu. In these kinds of meetings, its best to start with the meal before delving into the heavier aspects of the negotiations. To that end, the food should be out at any moment. But we should get a round of drinks going. I'm feeling the need for a whiskey sour, what will it be for everyone else?"
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SAINT
Outside Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:35:08 >>
Giving a thumb's up to Jenever, Saint makes himself comfortable in his seat then slips into Astral space. He looks around and gives the area a cursory once-over before following the two newcomers in.
He'll stay alert and observe the proceedings.
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Jenever
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:28:17 >>
As he sees them approach he sends a message to the team. He also attaches the feed of the approaching gangers.
<<VR - Encrypted Broadcast ::The Crew : Everyone be advised I just spotted our Date. Approximate time of arrival at Donovan's is 17:34:54. >>
Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:35:08 >>
Jenever checks the two when they pass his fly spy, but he finds nothing.
<<VR - Encrypted Broadcast ::The Crew : Found no weapons on them, they still might carry some well concealed weapons. Anyway I will have an eye out for trouble and their backup.>>
He sends his Optic X to patrol the area and he checks the feed of his various drones and the van to prevent the enemy of sneaking on him.
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:53:13 >>
Upside stacks of Whiskey Sour glasses form a small barrier across the table, saved from the bus drone, seperated the two sides.
"You called the meet." Delaney paused, then continued, "I'm listening."
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:53:16 >>
"Hopefully all that food and liquor have put him in a congenial mood." Reed finished off his current drink before speaking, "To recap the events necessitating this meeting, a member of my associate's group made an attempt on your systems and in response associates of yours fried their systems. This meeting has been called in hopes of preventing an escalation in reprisals and to assess your receptiveness to a peaceful resolution. If you are so inclined, my associate is offering to forge a mutually beneficial business arrangement, the details of which could be discussed at a later date in a more private venue, if you so prefered."
Cha. 7 + Neg. 8 = Pool 15
8 hits
Roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3741303/)
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:54:35 >>
"You've been straight up with us, so let's settle this now." Delaney looks at the woman with him, "Pay attention Ginny.". The 405er smiles and returns his attention across the table focusing his attention on Reed and Jack.
Delaney clears the center of the table, places three empty shot glasses across and then pulls out a small bottle of whiskey, carefully placing it beyond the glasses where Jack and Reed can reach it easily.
"One", Delaney points at a glass, "Open affiliation. We mark the your place. Couple of the Hounds make regular visits, keep order. Your folks can become probationary, apply for membership. Usual 15 percent cut into the Slush fund. Your folks got useful skills, hacking Grid Guide, tracking KE, monitor transport runs, records management on gear."
Delaney slides the glass off to the side, "But your out of the way, new territory, marking it means fights."
"Two", pointing at the center glass, "Preferred business partners. Straight discount on services we ask for from you. From us, muscle, transportation, gear, same discount."
"Three, I send Ginny's bitches."
The woman reaches slowly for the last unbreakable polyplas whisky glass and slowly bites down on the edge shattering it. She stares across the table at Jack and Reed, chewing polyplas shards and a dripping bloody smile.
"So what are we going to drink to?"
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:54:55 >>
"At least this Delaney isn't just a thug through and through, he has a head for business." Reed turned and stared pointedly at Jack.
<<AR - Encrypted Broadcast (Rating 5) (Subvocal Microphone)::Jack: Its a solid deal Mr. Jack, in some aspects better than what we were hoping for.>>
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Donovan's Bar and Grill - Renton, Seattle <<2072.10.02 17:54:55 >>
Jack picks up the bottle and pours into the center glass “They say great minds think alike. I think we can help each-other. You just let me know next time you need something, and I'll take care of it personally.”
<< Jack transmits contact information to Delaney>>
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<<Monday 2072.10.03 - 01:22:35 Armadillo Node>>
Hi Rez sprites exploded into fireworks, sparkling embers falling asymptomatically before gathering into a bubbling fountain of play foam. Rozalie dipped in a hand, the foam transforming at her touch into a Hi Rez 2073 Suzuki Mirage 500. Performance graphs unfolded like wings and peeled off fluttering into the fireworks, igniting and burning. Rozalie grabbed a sheet before it escaped with her other hand and a decision tree flashed into existence, englobing the motorcycle. She shrugged, and pulled it off of the Suzuki icon and threw it over the road. A solitary pathway blinked a bright neon yellow.
"That's the only possible delivery route for that order." Rozalie smiled. Using the two headed dog icon she encrypted the results and sent the data to the drop box.
"That should take care of this week."
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<<Monday 2072.10.03 - 21:22:35 - Club Vegas>>
Vegas surveyed the club, things are slow in the meat world. In VR it's still hopping, unlike the bad old days where the clocks were hidden to remind people of the passage of time, in VR your timezone and diurnal body clock were things you could leave behind.
One final check of the ARO timeclock, and Vegas made a controlled shake of his head and flashed an VR message out.
<<VR/AR@Jenever: Billy's not in or answering me. Can you check on her? You're sure she didn;t see you?>>
Vegas reflected that Billy never was as smart as she thought she was.
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<<Monday 2072.10.03 – 21:24:24 – Jenevers Trailer>>
<<VR/AR@Vegas: Hey, Vegas I´m pretty sure that she didn´t see me. But well I'll try to find her. Do you happen to know a hacker to trace her? That would make my job much easier.>>
Jenever leaves to check the places where he has seen Billy during his surveillance job. And writes a message to Jack.