[Poindexter]

Once back inside the cozy confines of Arcs warm dry americar, Duck answers her.

"Girl, chill. Lupo's your boy cause you're the one with the hookup. In this case, Lil Mik was my boy. Pfffffft! And you see how well that bullshit worked out. Alls i told dude was I needed a simple ass loanshark and he hollers at the most paranoid keeb in the sprawl talkin some "Dead niece and family business" bullshit. Motherfucker coulda got me capped if I hadn't played it cool back there. Fuckin DUMBASS!" He says, shaking his head in disgust. "Oh yeah, that elf with the sax was a stone cold killer. Piece of brass like that cost more than a midrange assault rifle and you don't go flashin it in the hood less you can defend it. You and me both been to that market a hundred times. You ever see any saxophone player there? Yeah, me neither. Trust, that squish was muscle. If we had fucked up back there, she woulda been the one pullin the trigger, not razorgirl that looked like she had his back. And for real? Fuck their mojo. We aint even need that shit, we jus needed the jing, wiz? But we did learn some important shit from that meet. One, we learned that Blindside think he better than the streets. That means he aint gon last long in em, so really? Fuck him. Two, we learned that he was the one behind the screamjob that set all this bullshit off in the firstplace. Think about it..." Duck takes one last long hit off the tiny spliffling left over and chucks the remainder out the window, blowing the smokes out with it before rolling it back up. "Why else would he be so paranoid about a simple ass loan request? Alls he knows is that my niece is dead, I got "family business" and I wanna meet with him. In his paranoid bloodthirsty head, he's thinkin I found out about the screamjob, figured out that was how all this bullshit started, put his name behind it, then come here to kill him and get revenge for it. That's why he wanted my info so bad. Shit, if we had told him what we knew, we wouldn't a walked outta there. Man like that don't want that kinda word on the streets, y'know?

Oh yeah, and I aint got shit else I need to do today less I hear from someone. If you need help with somethin, I gotcha. But if ya don't, I guess you can drop me off wherever."

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena takes the sax from her mouth as the Ork and human stop.  She smiles and says, "Thank you, Mister Duckdown.  That is quite a compliment coming from you.  I may be in Seattle for a short time longer.  Would you be interested in a jam session some time?"  She looks over at the human girl.  Arc?  Can I call you to see about my bike?  I will need to have it looked at before I leave.  What would be the best time to call?"

She watches the pair leave, part of her mind still wondering how they got together in the first place.  The rest of her mind is still on the job.  She keeps checking the sensors until the other Keebs are gone then bends down to put her sax in its case.  Picking up the money she earned in tips she is reminded that this sort of life sucks for anyone who really needs it.  She walks about and picks up the sensors she put out, then sends a message.  <Blindside.  Wanderer.  Please transfer the credits to my account.  Are we finished?  Please let Virtual Goddess know what you thought of my level of service.  She will know how to reach me if you need my particular skill set again.>

Her last task is to take a rag from the case and go over the stool and the parts of the shelter that she may have touched.  She checks her internal clock and sees that she has plenty of time to get home and change into her one good dress and call Sam about the date tonight. *I will delay the call until I get home to give the Ancient Keeb a chance to contact me and let me know if he needs me for anything.*

She puts her coat on, picks up her cases, and leaves the Market, heading to her bike.  She climbs on it and flicks it on, listening to the roar of the engine.  She shakes her head at the slight noise.  *I really hope that Arc can take care of that.*  Shifting into gear, she heads back to her apartment, wondering if the Keeb will call or if she will be free to see Sam this evening.

[Poindexter]

"Thank you, Mister Duckdown.  That is quite a compliment coming from you.  I may be in Seattle for a short time longer.  Would you be interested in a jam session some time?"

Again with the Mister bullshit. He looks down at his feet before speaking as he walks away. "I got a bad feeling that session is gonna happen whether I'm interested or not. Budda da budda da, right?"

[SgtBoomCloud]

Arc gave a simple nod to the elf with the sax, flitting a little smirk.  "My time's gon' be tight for the next coupla days, but bring it around.  I'll take a look at it, holla~"  She let out a breath as she entered into her sleek Americar, firing up the engine to get some heat going, listening to the purring of the car to calm her down as she listened to the ork give his spiel.  Taking a deep breath, she shook her head.

"Man, bull's drek be drek whatever drek all, no matter the hoop it comes from.  Meh, can't focus on the drek right now.  We gots a job to fraggin' do."  Shifting into gear, the human tore into the streets, sliding into the midday/early afternoon traffic and making her way home.  "I could actually use your help for a bit, omae.  Soon as I can get these sensor boxes up to jing, I'm gonna need to plant them around the Barrens.  While I'm riggin' them up, you think you can do some digging and find some good spots?  Work with our chummers in on this if ya got to, but I can't do two things at once, wiz?"  She let out a laugh, veering around a corner sharply to avoid a semi tearing through.


Later, back at the garage, Arc popped the main door open, flicking on the lights and then checking out back.  There, as predicted, was the crate Hrock promised her with the parts.  You're too good to me, Uncle.  Should send him something...oil change kit, maybe  Shoving the parts into her garage, she pulled them out and placed them on her workbench, slipping into some coveralls.  The bench was loaded with what looked to the untrained eye as a jumble of mismatched parts, but to Arc...they were pigments, and by the way she slipped her goggles on and clapped her hands together, it was clear she was gonna mass produce art...

[Csjarrat]

Feathers rubbed his forehead in frustration, it was barely lunchtime and this was turning into a shitstorm of a day.
He shrugged it off and smiled back at the slightly-less teary ork, nodding gently to help reassure her.
The only way to permanently destroy a spirit is to visit it's home plane and find it's true name. Unless our enemy has gone to those lengths, and I don't see why it would, Tsunamee should be ok in time. Give her a few days to rest up and see if she responds to your call.
He wandered to the window and looked out at the grey shithole listlessly, pondering his next move as he remembered back to his favourite science teacher at school.
Facts boy...always get the facts...
He mentally dictated a message to the detective and Bcc'd Nbungu in.
//Hey detective, hope you're having a less shitty day. apologies if so because I think our mate has struck again. Have your boys responded?

[Triskavanski]

Masquarade suddenly realizes that attempting this particular course of action was going to eat up the rest of her afternoon. Rain was coming down and she barely even left her house, let alone accomplished any of the tasks she was needing in order to beat this monster, such as developing or buying or obtaining quick and dirty poison and UV grenades, amassing her own personal army, getting this new troll body guard or even finding the pizza joint that she was going to pretend to be the owner of in order to hire the troll.


Abandoning any attempt to actually watch this person from a distance, in order to try and use him somehow, besides it was probally a  highly poison resistant dwarf, she tries to find a pizza place.. hopefully one with a more Brooklyn faire to it.

[SgtBoomCloud]

Moments into her work, and the rest of the world was gone for all Arc would be aware, her purple cybereyes unblinking as she stared as her hands worked, handling the disparate components placed before her.  Her mission: make a suite of sensor boxes to watch over the Barrens for signs of Smiley or his slitch using what scrapings the hood could give her.  Cracking her knuckles, she flipped open an ARO to broadcast some power metal to keep her focused.  "Time to do this..."

Head bobbing to the dark rhythms and beats as she went to work, she pulled up her design, grabbing a sensor tag, microcamera, and a microtransceiver.  Twirling the camera on one finger, she set them next to each other before starting to set up a splicing network, using a couple paper clips as framework while she snipped and ran the bits of universal connector, linking the camera and tag to the transceiver.  Rubberbanding the button rig to the transceiver, she spliced a few power wires to run the whole thing, the flash of a soldering iron going to work fusing the wires together.  Finally, she grabbed and flipped a metal box into the air, catching it and popping it open with a smack against the table as a particularly nasty riff on guitar echoed in the garage.  Popping open a pack of gum, she tossed several pieces into her mouth, chewing for a few minutes as she pulled up her blowtorch, cutting a few holes into the metal.  Spitting on the gum, she affixed the sensor tag, the transceiver's mic, and the camera to the holes she set up, using it as an epoxy to hold it all in place as she welded the paper clip framework to the box.

Satisfied with the design after several moments, she pulled out her commlink, turning the rig on and connecting it to her link.  She may not be a hacker, but it doesn't take a genius to program the camera and tag to transmit their info through the microtransceiver, and then to set up a ping alert sytstem, should any notable shift in conditions occur around the box.  She made not of the transceiver's commcode, starting a list of them for those she would make.  Taking a step back, she thrashed a few times in a definite metalhead dancing ritual before linking up the camera's feed, adjusting the UI to list all the conditions she would need...visual and audio feed, temperature, pressure...anything that might result from bad mojo or little witches.  "...Perfect...sometimes I surprise myself..."  She cackled, playing air guitar as she flipped herself back to the front, closing the box and sealing it.

"One down!" Was what she said before diving back into her work, singing when appropriate, even the guitar parts at times as she replicated her initial design, the one box soon being joined by another, and another, and so on and so forth.  Her list of transceiver commcodes grew as time passed on, and eventually she had a whole network of these things ready to be linked to a single commlink for constant, short term surveillance, the boxes just lacking in a proper home to snoop.  As the playlist ended, she was actually breathing heavily, flipping her goggles up, surveying her handiwork with a euphoric grin and a hand on her hip.  Frag drugs: it was obvious to any observer she was getting high on making this drek.

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena drives to her apartment and parks the rig in her assigned spot.  Once it is secured, she goes up to her rooms to change.  She leaves her clothes in a neat pile and steps into the shower to use up her allotment of hot water.  Stepping out of the shower, she examines her body in the mirror.  She twists her body to try to look at as many of her Vory and other prison tats as she can.  *I hope these do not turn him off.  Oh well, it is what it is.*

Having received no calls from Blindside, she sends a note to Sam.  <Sam Webster.  Olena.  From Market, in case you missed name.  I am home and changed.  I hope the best I have is good enough.  Address ARO is attached and I will be ready at 1900 as asked.  See you here.>  After sending the message, Yelena slinks into the best dress she owns.  She admires the way it accentuates her figure in all the ways men seem to approve of.  It also comes off quickly if that becomes an option after dinner.  She dabs a small amount of perfume on her wrists, neck, and cleavage then picks up her clutch and waits for Sam.  She considers using the small Light Fire pistol in the thigh holster, but the dress she is wearing does not leave much thigh available for concealment so she discards the idea.

She spends the wait time reviewing the images from her sensor cameras, looking for anything that might stand out now that she can focus all her time on the job.  She isolates stills of everyone present at the meet, to include the Ork and the human.  Her cameras had been positioned to also pick up people that might have shown an interest in the meet and she examines every frame to see if anyone stands out as especially interesting.  Her earlier frames should have caught Sam Webster as he approached her booth and talked to her and she examines those in minute detail to see if he is part of some set up or if it appears that he is legit.  Also of importance to her are the two cameras she had aimed at the ranged over watch sites,  She looks at both of them to see if anyone had been up in either spot.

[Poindexter]

"I could actually use your help for a bit, omae.  Soon as I can get these sensor boxes up to jing, I'm gonna need to plant them around the Barrens.  While I'm riggin' them up, you think you can do some digging and find some good spots?  Work with our chummers in on this if ya got to, but I can't do two things at once, wiz?" 

Duck gives her a friendly smirk from the passenger seat. "Good spots? You mean like, sewer pipes that look like good spots for it to move through? I thought Feathers had a map of those or some shit. Speakin of Feathers... That your boy or was he one of Big Loops people? Either way, besides him, who exactly is our chummers right now, any damn way? Girl, I think this shit is you, me, and the squish vs the world. Oh wait! You got that other elf too, aint ya? The one that was pukin in your car the other night, right? What was her name? Is she down?"

[Mercy Merchant]

As Yelena isolates faces she sets her commlink to searching matrix records for any information on the person.  She stores the faces and names that she knows in her file index, which is quite large by now.  Any information she digs up will be added to the index for that person.  Many of the files in the index are marked "Deceased".

She sends off a quick note to Virtual Goddess.  <Goddess.  Wanderer.  Looks like my Seattle gig is winding down.  I am going to take a small holiday for a few days.  I will contact you when I come up again.  As always, thanks for the connection here.>

[ismilealot]

@ Masquerade  Finding a pizza place was easy, and it must have been her subconscious dictating the New York accent because 'Rao's' was practically on top of the site, just 2 blocks down. It's night shift manager, Jimma, was even close to your size.
You've been so focused on your matrix activities that you hadn't noticed a message notification. From your mentor it said,  >>It's not like you to give up a line of inquiry so easily. Especially when it offers you the opportunity to learn a very different technique in poison delivery. Is it something you no longer wish to pursue? Or is it something that you simply wish me to procur for you?<<

@ Feathers  Detective Fallon answers you fairly quickly.  >>The muck it with magic boys have evidently had a fire lit under them by some retired big wig that used to be in Fiends and Foul Majics. They were actually down at the scene and conducted some tests I've never seen them do. Every damn one of them was puking their guts up by the time they were in 10 m. of there. But, they stayed, ran the tests. And by the time they were done they were closed lipped and grim. Guy must still have some kinda pull 'cause Quauhtli was even out there and that is the laziest mother-drekker that ever rode a desk. I don't know whether to be glad or afraid. FFM will destroy this thing whatever it is. But they don't have a reputation for precision.<<
Nbungu's response is  a few hours later.  >>I closed the shop early to check it out. It has the same foul sense. And killing at daybreak like this. I fear it is getting stronger, even if it was only 1 this time.<<

@ Yelena   >>The name of a beautiful woman is never forgotten Olena. I'll be there. I've chosen the Toulouse Petit for dinner. I thought the spicy food would be the perfect appetizer for our time together.<< 

[Triskavanski]

<< No I do wish to expand my tools and weapons. Especially for something like this.. I need to get access to this pizza shop though as well, for another target to help me against this monster. He wants Pizza, so I'll give him pizza.>>  She replies to her master, moving towards the Pizza shop to find the guy she was going to use the face of.

[ismilealot]

@Masquerade   >>Use a carrot & stick. Good luck<<

@ Johnny  When you wake up sweating it's much darker. For a moment it seems late. But the clock says it's just past four. Hmmm, Tommy should be home from lessons soon. Nobody expects trolls to be anything but big dumb brutes. But, an education would change that for Tommy. Give him the future your drunken father never gave you. And The Barrens are full of trolls. It's not unusual to find one as a foreman. True it's easier to find them as gang muscle. But nothing changes unless you change it. You're buying Johnny that chance. But still, Johnny should be home by now. He's almost an hour late...........And not answering his comm. It was just a cheap model, maybe he dropped it. Still, maybe he should meet him half-way. By the time Johnny gets to the tenement Tommy's teacher is in, a woman who everyone calls Two-Bit it's an hour and a half later than he should have been home. And Tommy's never liked his lessons, always trying to cut them short, but today, he hears a troll shout of laughter, "Do it again! With the bear this time!" When Johnny rounds the corner it's to find Tommy fighting off a bear and an eagle.

[SgtBoomCloud]

Duck gives her a friendly smirk from the passenger seat. "Good spots? You mean like, sewer pipes that look like good spots for it to move through? I thought Feathers had a map of those or some shit. Speakin of Feathers... That your boy or was he one of Big Loops people? Either way, besides him, who exactly is our chummers right now, any damn way? Girl, I think this shit is you, me, and the squish vs the world. Oh wait! You got that other elf too, aint ya? The one that was pukin in your car the other night, right? What was her name? Is she down?"

Arc gave a nod, returning the smirk as she processed his inquiries, taking a breath.  "yeah no, Feathers is with us.  I met him with Red at the one prof's place, and his job is to do some ritually mojo stuff to bind big Smiley so the combat mages can work him over.  Also to keep him out of the hair of those taking on the knife-eared witch.  I wouldn't count on one of Lupo's mojos to be down with the whole fragging ritual biz.  Raven?  Yeah she's with us.    I owe her a bit, hence why I'm helping her, but she got marked by Smiley.  She's good at getting intel, and I think got the locale of the witch as well.  Haven't heard nothing from Rack, Red, or Khaki, so ima assume they ain't drek use to us right now.  Point is, we gon need these rigs up ASAFP, and we only got so much daylight to  set up.". She breathed a sigh, pulling up an ARO.  "Here, let a slitch get some chummers on the horn..."

<<Group Message, initiated 12:47 PM.
<<Participants: Arc, Duckdown, Feathers, Raven
<<So, I'm gonna have surveillance rigs ready to go by tonight.  I'm gkn a need locations go hook up, which I know y'all got, and some help.  Duck is with me to coordinate.  Care to help a slitch out?

[Triskavanski]

Masq continues on her way to the pizza shop to watch and observe the owner of that pizza shop while she can, and see if there is an opening to knock him out.