@Lumen__________
Oh no, that's not on. That sounds plausible, they tend to use a special knife with a focus for their blood drawing rituals. I fear the worst then. You're making powerful enemies indeed.
You'll need treatment to begin immediately. If you don't, the hallucinations will get worse. A special salve of Lapsang and honeysuckle applied twice daily can stem the tide, but you must come to me as soon as your job is finished. I can bring a few doses of the salve round in a few hours and show you how to apply it if you cannot delay the job for a few days?
Timmy returned with breakfast with a heavy thud on the door. He greeted you with a flash of eyebrows, a takeout tea in each hand and a white paper bag full of the breakfast sarnies held between his teeth.
Grub's up mate, yours is that one with the brown sauce on. Went beserk, got the full fucking works mate!
A layer of sausage was topped with egg, mushrooms and tinned tomato dribbled out of the top of the towering sarnie and your stomach leapt with joy as the smell hit your nostrils. A large size tea to wash it down with sweetened the deal and you both tucked in hungrily, wiping egg yolk and tomato juice out of your stubbly beards and licking it off the back of your grubby hands.
Heaven.
You began to feel more human and Timmy left you after chatting shit for a while about the weather and the Clerkenwell boat raid, he'd dumped your share of the booty in your bedroom and you'd nearly tripped over it as you kicked off your kit and ventured into the shower. You stank, but the hot water running on your aching muscles was amazing.
You emerged a changed man, ready for a cig, salve, footy, pint and then onto the train in the morning.
If you're all done with downtime, make your IC hitting the train and any introductions you wanna do and we'll get rolling on the mission proper. You've got a full condition monitor and full edge refresh
@Profgast___________
The van started smoothly and slid around noisily around the corners on the old A66's snow covered cracked tarmac, protesting loudly as it battled between your throttle commands and its traction control system. Eventually you quit fighting it and jumped in, becoming the van and instinctively kicking it's back end out to maximise power into the corners. It hurt the fuel efficiency somewhat, but it was brilliant fun on the abandoned route.
A herd of deer startled at the unfamiliar noise of engines, running and scattering in all directions into the bracken that lined the lower altitude sections of the pass and you revelled in the glee of the late afternoon sunshine and this utterly stunning part of the world. It was lightyears away from the dim, grey oppressive feel of the Old Smoke, and the stresses of the acid rain and crushing density of population seemed a lifetime away as you opened the throttle and dodged deer on the slippery surfaces.
The suburbs rushed up to meet you as you came down the long downhill stretch of the newly refurbished section of the A66 you'd joined 40 minutes ago and quaint little houses eventually gave way to tenement blocks and recently constructed glass and steel apartments built to house working class families. The city centre was nothing to write home about, the usual selection of chain stores and small-town regional names lined the narrow streets. Though the locals probably thought the city-centre traffic was bad, they'd probably never driven down in the Megaplex of London and found out just how shit traffic can really be.
It wasn't long before gridguide pinged you a choice of lodgings and you'd arrived, dumping an overnight bag onto the bed and stripping off for a decent scrub down and some hearty food before enjoying the rest of what remained of the afternoon and evening walking around the small city centre. A nice pub, the Lion's head, served a decent beer and choice of pie for less than a tenner and you plonked yourself down at a table and idled through your link's newsfeed whilst the locals played pool and listened to the young lass singing her heart out with her acoustic guitar accompaniment. No-one really paid you much attention and you hit the hay early, eager to get sorted out with shopping in the morning.
Bex replied an hour after the upload, having studied the hi-res video.
//Looks like the house is just used for storage or staging of goods. Can't make out what that stuff is, even on the hi-res. Party of three to pick up on monday lunchtime. They're on the Aberdeen service, going by the names of Knives, Mams and Silas. I'll forward on your descriptions and they'll know to meet you by the left luggage department on the concourse. I've set up a private host for a briefing, make sure you're all together when you log in. Jump into the host as soon as you're all in the Van and heading up to the site.[<<meeting invite received>>]//
Left with your instructions, you plodded out of your digs for the night and headed into town, picking up a breakfast roll and a cuppa from the kitchen and out into the freezing cold morning. Sunday brought snow and a light dusting lay on the ungritted surfaces of the pavements and shop frontages.
The town was quiet, a mix of dog-walkers, shop workers and mums with prams making up the light foot-traffic and the quiet town made for an easy day's shopping. You'd passed the station a few times on the shopping trips and knew what to expect come Monday morning. A Sunday roast at the Lion's head and another early night ensued and before you knew it, your early alarm was ringing in your ears.
