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[IC, SR4A] The Deep Shadows

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Marlowe

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« on: <11-27-13/0200:56> »
It was a cold, clear night in the Seattle Metroplex as wind whipped across Puget sound.  Fog drifted across Outremer, obscuring the rundown neighborhoods and cracked roads that dotted the islands.  Just past midnight Bainbridge Island was quiet, even with the last few ferries dropping wage slaves returning from the Seattle core; middle managers and blue-collar workers drive off towards home, the only disturbance on the otherwise quiet streets.

A lonely hangar stood near an abandoned airstrip when the SUV pulled up and the troll got out to unlock the hangar's main door.  He entered and triggered the lights with his commlink, walking towards a set of stairs that led up into a loft.  He looked around to make sure everything was in place.  He placed the case he'd been given on a small card table for the 'runners per his instructions, then loaded a datachip in a portable trideo projector.  Finally he turned on security measures that would secure the building and warn of any vehicles approaching.

He’d gotten the call to check the location less than 2 hours ago, which meant the offer had gone out to the various ‘runners.  There was a short turnaround on the current project which meant that the new hires had to be sure to move fast.  He wasn’t too certain the project would work but it wasn’t his job to ask questions.  He sat down and waited for the players to arrive.

You receive the following message from your fixer:

>>Job Description: Secure location to be disclosed and prepare goods for retrieval.
>>Payment: 25,000 ¥
>>Timeframe: 1-2 Weeks
>>If you want to hear more about the job visit the following location: *********.  5,000 ¥ provided as good faith money.
>>As always, discretion required.

"Speech"
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avpbott

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« Reply #1 on: <11-27-13/1744:29> »
"damn its cold, almost naturally so" ron thought to himself as he pulled up to the hanger on his bike.  Ron did not like meeting in a hanger like this. "to easy to set up a trap" but that was the cost of being a runner, always danger.  Ron figured he would do a sweep of the area just to make sure no tricks were being played.  He also shut of his comm link for good measure and looked around  [roll visual perception]  (3 succ)

Marlowe

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« Reply #2 on: <11-27-13/2354:21> »
Perception - Ron


The hangar you've pulled up in front of looks decrepit - the metal exterior is covered with patterns of rust.  You do get clues that not all is at seems as there are cameras that seem to cover the entire areas around the hanger discretely tucked underneath the overhangs of the roof, and there aren't any holes in the hangar like you'd expect.

There's a late model, blue Chrysler-Nissan SUV parked in front of the hangar, the engine is cold and no one is in it.
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avpbott

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« Reply #3 on: <11-28-13/0208:43> »
"great second job out and i already don't like this" Ron proceeds closer to the hanger and walks inside whale making sure his enforcer was in his concealable holster
« Last Edit: <11-28-13/1252:43> by avpbott »

Windmill Hunter

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« Reply #4 on: <11-28-13/1141:49> »
A series of quiet tapping was the only announcement of Martin's approach, a faint burn registered in left leg from walking from the bus stop, agitaiting the old bullet wound in his thigh. Martin walked past the motorbike, which was faintly reasuring in that he doubted other people would be invited to his ambush. He paused outside the hanger, leaning on his walking stick as he peered into the astral at the meeting place, the ground was full of runners who ran in before checking, although he knew that Adversary would say that sooner or later the ground is full of everyone. [Roll Assense 7D6(5)=3 hits]
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Marlowe

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« Reply #5 on: <11-29-13/2259:39> »
Assensing - Martin


The area is remarkably low in magical energy - you can sense the faded energy in the airport as the impression of human activity has begun to die.  You do see watcher spirits moving in a pattern around the boundary of the airport but there does not appear to be any spirits or an active magician on site.

You also see two people inside the hangar.  One is magically active and the other is mundane, although you do notice cyberware in both.


As you enter the hangar you see a troll sitting at a table on a second floor platform looking over the small area you've entered into.  He's well dressed, but looks bored.  He rumbles when he sees you.  "Good evening, Mr. Ron.  I'm pleased to see you made it."

The troll stands to his full two hundred ninety centimeters as he waves you up to the top.  He nods when Martin walks in and greets him as well.  "We have a few more people coming but feel free to wait up here."

As you walk upstairs you see that the loft area has an area set aside as a kitchen with a soy dispenser and soykaf machine, along with another area set aside with cots, obviously set up for the 'runners to use during their run.  The troll was sitting at a beat up conference table surrounded by chairs facing a trideo screen that's currently tuned to the latest season of Urban Brawl.

"My name is Mitchell, I'll be happy to answer any questions you have as soon as the rest of the group is here."
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Nobody

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« Reply #6 on: <11-30-13/0042:08> »
"Hey, Vic, ya busy?"

I was, but I knew Digger wasn't going away. I looked at the scrawny ork boy holding his hat in his hands, smiling dopily upward. "What is it, Digger?"

"Zing found a couple of jobs on the wire. Wanted to know if anybody was lookin' for nuyen. I knew you was, so, um, here --" He held out a well worn datastick. I slotted it and spent a moment sorting through data file of job listings. Only one of them paid anything like the cred I owed to DocWagon. 

Open cattle call, eh? I instantly began calculating variables, mostly for something to do on the walk to the bus stop. I stood amongst the derelicts and wageslaves for another few minutes, then picked the seat farthest from the door, directly in view of a camera. I opened myself to the astral and traced a rune in my head, infusing it with enough mana to call a watcher spirit.

"Inform me if anyone approaches my body, and what my body's location is when this occurs."

The rune sparkled its assent and I let go of my physical form. I arced through the manascape over Seattle to get the lay of the astral land at the meeting point, and see who else was checking it out. (5 Assensing hits). (Knowledge 'Runners: Ron (3), Martin (2))

After a half hour of watching, I headed to the bus stop to meet my body. Turning up my collar to the rain, I strode to the hangar.

I remember thinking that the air smelled like Destiny.

avpbott

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« Reply #7 on: <11-30-13/1608:15> »
"So be it ill wait"  ron leans up against the wall in the waiting room

Marlowe

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« Reply #8 on: <11-30-13/2237:42> »
Knowledge - Shadowrunners


You don't recognize the man walking into the hangar, or the big troll standing upstairs.  The other human you recognize as a 'runner named Vincent or Ron, depending on who you're talking to.  He's known mostly as a womanizer and a pistol fanatic, there's rumors that he's an adept.


Mitchell grunts a little as he cocks his head ever so slightly, like he's straining to listen to something in his ear.  He nods as the door opens and Gray limps in, followed a few minutes later by the mage known as Invictus.  Three so far, good.  Now I just need the last few players to arrive and I can get the frag out of her.

"Come up, come up.  You must want to sit, Mr. Gray.  And you...Invictus.  I'm sure you want to relax as well.  There's soykaf for those who want it, or if you're hungry there's a food dispenser.  I must warn you the flavors are rather limited.  I believe there's an Italian and an American setting," his smile is sarcastic, "mostly the difference is the color of the cheese additive."

Mitchell begins to drum his fingers against the table as he waits for the last few people to arrive.
"Speech"
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fourclover

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« Reply #9 on: <12-01-13/1119:05> »
Bullpen shades his eyes and watches the ball he just hit at the batting cages fly toward the fences. It falls just short of what would be a homer, and he snorts irritably. He turns to his former batting coach Leo Mazzone.

"Thanks for the session. It's been too long since I took a swing at some balls ... at least the baseball kind." He chuckles at his own dirty joke, but Leo doesn't. "I'd buy you a few drinks, but I'm already late. Bookies don't pay themselves off, ya know."

Leo smirks. "You'd be in a lot less shit if they did."

With that, Bullpen heads out of the batting cages and gets on his Harley. He hates being late for a business meet, but when your friends are few, you gotta keep 'em happy he thinks as he rounds the corner and makes his way to the meet. When he arrives at the nearly abandoned hangar about 15 minutes later, he checks the time and sees he isn't too late since traffic wasn't an issue. He parks his Harley next to the SUV, heads in the hangar and up to the loft. Once he sees the rest of the lot upstairs, he gives a shit-eating grin and opens in his accented English, "Evening, hombres."

[Perception outside the hangar: 2] [Perception in the loft: 1]
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"The law of gravity would be thrown into dispute were there a commercial interest involved" -- Lord Macaulay

Nobody

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« Reply #10 on: <12-02-13/1831:08> »
[Increase Reflexes, Force 3: 3 sux; +2 IP, 4 drain, all soaked][Knowledge 'Runners: Bullpen 3 sux, Log+Int for fame: 8 sux]

Sipping the soykaf, I shifted the mana subtly around me. As my awareness attenuated the world slowed down, giving me plenty of time to analyze all the angles. I leaned on the rail of the loft and took stock of everyone there. [Assensing : Ron 3, Troll 4; Bullpen 1; Gray 3]

The soykaf was exactly as bad as I expected, but not so bad that I wasn't going to get a refill. Still watching for newcomers, I approach the suited troll.

"How many more heads are we waiting for, omae?"


Nobody

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« Reply #11 on: <12-02-13/1846:17> »
If you observe me in detail:


INT+Perception: Invictus is a mixed ethnicity human somewhere in his mid-30's. His hair is a mass of wild, unmanageable black angles. He is tall and reedy, physically unimposing. A well kept suit from this year's Actioneer Business line seems to hide no concealed items or weapons. You may notice that his right eye's dubious color matching and seams, telltale signs of cyber.

INT+Ettiquette: Every move, gesture, and word belie a confidence of command. This is clearly a man who is used to being followed.
 

RHat

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« Reply #12 on: <12-02-13/2140:18> »
Iris had gotten a cab to drop her a little bit away from the meet, deciding to walk the rest of the way.  She pulled the collar on her trenchcoat up to brace against the wind, and lit a cigarette as she thought about how she'd been convinced to take this job.

At the time, she was between glasses at her main favorite watering hole - the place was a dive, sure, but the band was alright - when Sal had walked in, all bluster and camaraderie like he was her best friend or something.  Wasn't that hard to figure he was having a hard time filling a job that needed doing.  "What's going on, Sal?  Make some sort of promises and have someone cancel on you?"  She gave him a look like she wasn't in the mood for the pleasantries, hoping he'd get said what he needed said and leave her to drink in peace.

"Oh, come on, it's not like that." Sal acted wounded, but she knew it was just part of his game; try to get some sort of sympathy, move on to flattery, and hopefully get her to agree to whatever he needed before she knew what it was.  "Okay, well, maybe it's little like that; you can always see right through me."  It struck her that he was rushing his routine a little this time; of course, he probably still didn't realize he was so predictable.

"Yeah, yeah, read you like a fragging datachip.  So what?"  She knew she had to play along a little bit if she wanted to get this over with.

"So there's this job needs doing, might be sorta in your wheelhouse - figured on getting Frankie to do it, but I can't get ahold of him.  Something about securing the place, getting some sort of package ready to go.  Not sure where, but I figure you go out there, spot the angles, lock 'em down with the other guys that are going, and it's an easy 25 grand.  Meet's tonight, though, so you'd have to get moving pretty quick."

Easy.  It always sounds easy, right up until you actually have to do it...  Still, it wasn't like she was rolling in money, so the idea of an easy payday was hard to turn down.  Besides, this was a lot better than the last couple of things Sal had tried to line her up for - sometimes he seemed to conveniently forget that she wasn't just some magician-for-hire.  "Can't hurt to see what they've got to say when I get there, I guess.  I'll take off after this set."  She got up after that to go find Mac, looking for some soykaf so she'd be halfway in condition for the meet.

Bringing her mind back to the present, she was already regretting coming out here.  Damned cold night; hopefully there's some sort of heat on at the meet.

She took a long drag on her cigarette as the walked into the hanger, noting the various vehicles outside, and gave everyone inside a good looking over, before casting a spell she liked to use as a precaution for these types of meetings.

She took another drag on her cigarette as she sat down.  "I take it I've come to the right place."


Observe in Detail and Assensing: Outside of Hanger, Inside of Hanger, Suited Troll, Ron, Martin, Nobody's character, Bullpen (14d6.hits(5)=4, 5d6.hits(5)=1, 14d6.hits(5)=5, 5d6.hits(5)=1, 14d6.hits(5)=3, 5d6.hits(5)=0, 14d6.hits(5)=3, 5d6.hits(5)=2, 14d6.hits(5)=5, 5d6.hits(5)=1, 14d6.hits(5)=5, 5d6.hits(5)=1, 14d6.hits(5)=8, 5d6.hits(5)=1)

So, that's 4 for OiD and 1 for Assensing outside, 5 and 1 inside, 3 and 0 on the troll, 3 and 2 on Ron, 5 and 1 on Martin, 5 and 1 on Nobody's character, and 8 and 1 on Bullpen.

Force 5 Analyze Truth, Resist Drain DV 2S (11d6.hits(5)=6, 10d6.hits(5)=3)

Only get to count 5 hits, but still; the dice seem to like me tonight.
« Last Edit: <12-02-13/2144:36> by RHat »
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Windmill Hunter

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« Reply #13 on: <12-03-13/1004:06> »
Martin swiveled his chair around, and sipped from his thermos of real coffee, you could never be too careful after all. He watched from a corner of the loft as people filed in,  and as more people arrived he became more and more pessamistic. 25,000 nuyen each, 6 runners already and from the lack of the pasty drek with the million nuyen commlink they still had some to come. He felt the reassuring weight of his combat fetish, an iron inverted cross, hanging around his neck and hoped he wouldn't need it,
Assensing
Assense-7d6(5)-Vic/Isis/Bullpen/Ron-hits=4/2/2/1/
 Observation in Detail

Int+Perception:Gray is a relativly spry 50 year old white male, with watery gray eyes and neatly combed black hair going gray about the temples. He is dressed in a thick black overcoat with a small but noticable bulge suggesting some sort of handgun, as well as a modestly expensive RhineGold suit. The very perceptive may notice some faded scars on his hands and a shifting of his weight onto one leg.
Int+Ettiquette:despite the relativly harmless appearance and kindly sounding voice, his presence after a while seems to bleed malevolence, and he gives the impression that he wouldn't change his expression much from chatting over a beer to tying you to a chair in Glow City and ringing a dinner bell.
« Last Edit: <12-03-13/1613:10> by Windmill Hunter »
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avpbott

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« Reply #14 on: <12-03-13/1448:17> »
and so more pieces come onto the board, well i guess that rules out the trap cant be to sure ron thought to himself

Ron surveyed his surroundings once more although he was the first player to arive he felt a like he should of waited, the feeling in the air was that everybody was observing him and the others, and although this did not bother him initially it gave him a small prickling sensation on the back of his neck.  "least no corporate bullshit i guess"  ron noticed the man standing over the rail and wondered where he had seen him before, the initial glance didn't trigger any recall memories but he felt familer somehow, ron shook off the feeling and did one last perception around the hanger.    (5 hits 5,5,5,6,6)
« Last Edit: <12-03-13/1451:38> by avpbott »

 

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