[gilga]

Solo was fascinated when Al and Nitro fixing the car. Honest labor, not fancy mojo slinging like a mage would approach it. Mages... they solve all their problems with magic....  But these people they actually understand what they are doing. He asked many questions and fetched them tools. He hoped he was not being annoying but every time he learns a new trick he is like that.

Then Nitro decided to bail out - Solo wondered if it was something he said. 
"I'll take this opportunity to grab some beers Al, I should get some sleep also - I am the kind that actually need to sleep at nights. Not like some of the runners here that sleeping during the advertisements in TV is enough sleep for them." Beside that, he probobly had too many of these beers. Hallucination told him she was not going to drink and he sort of drunk more just in spite. This night was confusing The spirit messed up with his emotions, augmenting them and sometimes sending him lusting thoughts that were completely unrelated to the conversation.

This is must be how head cases feel at the beginning. He thought at M.

Distracted a bit he fetches Al the tool. "Quite a fan of body art, aren't you ?" He said. T

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]

Al thanked Solo for the beers and wished him a good rest. Hell, it was no wonder the guy needed some shut-eye - he was a one-man dynamo. Al could barely keep up with all the stuff that guy got up to in one night.

But for this Southern boy - right now was all the rest he needed; it had been a night filled with gunfire, explosions, and more than a little witchcraft. And even since returning to his little Fortress of Solitude, there hadn't been a quiet moment until now. Several of their number were finally sleeping, either in cars or dark corners, one on the boat. Good choice - there was just enough movement on the water to provide a nice rocking motion. Once released from Solo's forced servitude, the Doc had gone back upstairs to his family, and things were at last quiet up there behind the door faithfully guarded by Jackhammer. So now Al worked in peace - which he was certain wouldn't last long - as he sipped his beer and accumulated grease deep among the folds and crevices of the hideous scarring that covered his hands.

Which made him think of the spirit Hallucination had watching his place.

He still needed to talk to her about that.

[obidancer]

In one sharp reflex, the Frenchman caught the beer that was tossed at him. At least it was fresh, thanks to Al's efficient cooler.
He nodded at the small scruffy man, opened the can and let the refreshing beverage run down his throat. He wasn't much of a beer guy, but on the occasion he admitted it was good.

[gilga]

Frenchman... since you need no sleep, you can have my RCC until the morning. It has both my bikes and some recon drones slaved to it. If you can have a look it will be great. I do not trust software that much.

Now where am I going to sleep... This place was clearly not his kind. Solo wanted a bed a real bed to sleep on, preferably with some company - but sleeping on the floor like a squatter was out of the question.  Dammit... I should get myself a trailer that way I can always sleep in my own bed.
He thought as he crushed on a carpet, hugging a cushion.

Good night Solo...

"Good night M... I take it you are not going to be here in the morning..."

"It just make me the perfect girlfriend, now just pretend to be hugging me and I'll make you sleepy in no time... At dawn I return home... you know the drill already."


"You are unlike any other spirit I've ever met... thanks M" He thought and descended into deep sleep.

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]

The van was up on jacks now, and Al stood under it in the pit, reaching up to access the tranny. It was a straightforward but time-consuming phase of the job, and his mind wandered. He thought of the Tattoo Witch. He reckoned he owed her a lot, and pain in the ass she that she was, she'd turned out to be right about at least one thing. But the price of getting there had been their friendship. Hadn't seen her in, what was it now, going on ten months? He'd missed her quite a bit more than he'd thought he would, but hadn't thought of her in a while. He wondered why he thought of her now.

*****

"Quite a fan of body art, aren't you?" Solo had ventured after handing Al one more tool and turning to go find a spot to crash.

Al had glanced down at what was visible on his arms - all old stuff: the hula dancer wearing nothing but a lei and gyrating whenever his paltry right bicep flexed, the Stars and Bars, vivid red on the same shoulder, and further down, on the inside of the forearm, his old Troubleshooters insignia. And then his left arm - all those names, all neatly X-ed out.

He'd chuckled and barked back, "Grow yerself a pair o' tits, baby, an' I'll show ya the good stuff," as the hacker-mage had taken his leave.

*****

He wasn't completely stupid. He knew Isaint and Frenchie were right about how compromised the place probably was. But in all his years he'd found that the disaster you expected was never the one that actually struck, so he didn't figure they'd get hit here. But he did figure they'd get hit again before this thing was done. That stuff in the doc's head, and whatever he'd be able to come up with going forward, he didn't much favor the melodramatic, but this was world-ending stuff, the way he saw it. The kind of stuff people came after.

Frenchie was right - they needed to back it up. Just in case. He'd talk to him once the tranny was done.

He was getting tired. But the idea of the Tattoo Witch having that beautiful brain taken over by some nanite infestation, or of having the folk back home on the mountain subsumed by this godless atrocity of a virus or whatever it was, it was too much to handle.

He kept working on the van.

[ScytheKnight]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]

Nitro was used to working with just a toolbox of kit, having a properly equipped facility he was like a kid in a candy store, withe that mojo buzzing around in his brain he was able to quickly identify a lot of quick simple fixes that would get the swiss-cheezed van back into a drivable state, as well as some longer fixes that would take tome but go a long way to getting it back to road worthy... at least for what they had planned anyway.

He started making plans and calls as he worked, even if they didn't wind up using it, the race meet would add to the general confusion in the area. After a while he started getting more absorbed in the calls than the repairs and misread an AR cue resulting in a discharge, and a lump on the back of his head as he jumped in shock, both literal and metaphorical.

Grumbling and swearing to himself, and rubbing the back of his head he wanders around making calls and checking the rest of his gear, working his connections in the street racing scene to get the short notice meet running. At the mention of getting some sleep he laughs and waves it away "I was aslee when I go tha call to come out here, sure I'mma li'l short but I'll be fine."

Eventually he walks back over to the van, noticing Al working on the transmission he dives back into the job, the two working together almost as flawlessly as before. "Sonnovabitch that hurt! Sorry bou that, but ya seems to 'ave done a pretty goo job if I ken sayso mesself. Done wha I can ta get tha meet uppin runnin, way I figure even if we dinna use it, it's aleas' gonna muddy tha waters roun' ere a bit."

Post count 57

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]

"Well, the waters is sure muddy enough fer us, couldn't hurt none ta muddy 'em up some fer the other side. Nice work."

So much for the peace and quiet. But he'd known it wouldn't last, and this Nitro person was starting to grow on him some.

And anyway, there was a lot of work to be done, so he was glad for the help.

[Jack_Spade]

To Isaint: eTher was probobly the one in command on the team of runners you whacked in oxford ...  Did you get the impression that they wanted the doc alive? 
"   

Isaint thought a moment before he answered:
"Yes. They used him as a shield, but they were playing for time to make their exit. But one thing is for sure: They were aware that another team would turn up and laid a trap accordingly.
Looking back, that whole operation was compromised from the start. Our superior numbers did tip the scales in our favor."

To the Frenchman he said:
" Always remember rule 3: Don't get involved with dragons - for you are crunchy and taste great with ketchup.

But I take you up on your offer. Combat does tire me out. I have to learn that Yogi trick sometime to meditate instead of sleep.
But try not to have our throats cut. That kind of thing makes me grumpy in the morning."

#72

[pistolgrip]

Aaron settled in for some sleep to the sound of whispered family tensions and Al working on his van. It wasn't the first time he'd slept in such poor accommodations, but it was by far the most unusual circumstance. A few meters away was a doctor with a datalock responsible for groundbreaking work into some nanite mindslave zombie virus; Elsewhere scattered around were several apparently professional drivers, mechanics, hackers, mages, soldiers of fortune, and probably even an assassin or two; beyond the walls somewhere, corporations and governments alike were coordinating some kind of imminent strike on their team to either capture or take down the doc, and by this time, probably anyone who could have had access to his datalock. The whole team was in a rough spot. But they sat around drinking beers, working on cars, and swapping old stories like it was a Sunday picnic.

"So much for easy money. These people are insane."

[Aria]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
 

<<@Silk: That job last year for Fairie Twinkle Dragon. Impression was she was more than just a client, more like a friend of yours. Just how much would you trust her? Got a tasty package here, it's the same sort of thing she sent us into that NeoNet data farm after, it's hot like an August day in Georgia, and we're looking for a buyer that'll make the best use of it, while simultaneously not killing us. Pretty sure she's in the mix already anyway - what do you think?>>

<<@Al: You do manage to find the most interesting varieties of trouble!  I presume you mean eTher?  I wouldn’t call her a friend, she’s too damn manipulative for that.  I know I dance to their tune but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.  Aria is close to her though, and she is my friend.  Trust is another thing I wouldn’t extend too far that way, she’s a dragon, well drake, and they don’t think like we do.  But I believe she would deal fairly with you and I suspect that’s the best offer you’re going to get if your package is that hot.  I wouldn’t be surprised if she was involved, reading between the lines NeoNet have their fingerprints all over this thing.  Let me know if I can help any more, I’ll even waive my fee if you give me the details once the dust settles.>>
 
***
And so the night drags on to early morning and there is a vague lightening in the sky overhead, when suddenly the team’s watching spirits begin to cry a warning…  “ritual magic…” the sending is powerful and the astral shimmers with the force of the incoming spell
 
<<@Team [Torrent]: You are compromised, don’t ask me how I know because I ain’t going to tell you.  Get out!  You need to go Underground, don’t worry, I’ll arrange a guide otherwise you’ll never make it back out alive again.>>
 
Almost immediately the power to the block browns-out and the meagre light coming in the begrimed windows grows stronger by contrast…
 
***
_#26

[gilga]

Dammit!... what does torrent mean by going underground? to the sewers?! ... If only we sold the doc  when we still could. Too late for that now, he thought. He looked around, that light was worse than morning coming early. He looked from the window trying to figure out what is going on.
"Everybody up!" He screamed with a slightly high pitched voice that struggled to be loud. The beg with deck and RCC was right in his lap. He rushed to his equipment, and then tried to look in the window to see what is going on.
 


Perception: 12d6t5 4

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint was munching on a nutri bar when the message came. He swallowed and called:

"Damn it to hell! Al, does this place have sewer access? If yes, just open the doors and let the rides out on autopilot. Ritual magic sounds like we need to get behind some very heavy cover - preferably a ward or some place with high background count.

Jackhammer, get the family. Shoes are most important - everything else is secondary."


#73

[gilga]

Solo it is ritual Magic... I am still here.

"Too bad I am not skilled in counter spelling... who would leave something he loves or some of his DNA behind? "


He cried "I think it is the doc! Hallucination can you protect him?"


Solo was not comfortable playing the mage - he still lacked a lot of magical knowledge but his heart and professional focus shifted all the time and he was excited about driving.  I can increase his willpower I bet it will help him resist the spell if it is not too late.

[Crossbow]

*This is why I don't do personal bolt holes...*

"Isaint, Underground is the London subway, not the sewers."

Smiley is awake and hustling the family up and together quickly, he already knew where the nearest subway entrance was from his physical sweep of the area the night before, unless Al pipes up with some hidden access.  As soon as the family is mobile and he has a couple of the group's heavies ready to move them, he prepares to take point and show them the way.

Focusing his power, he uses the Voice to keep the family on track. "Stay together, stay calm, once we move, keep moving."

[gilga]

Getting killed in the subway was way better than in the sewer Solo managed to put a smile on his lips.

"Smiley! Thanks about that... I was a bit worried... can totally do subway"  Solo was ready to leave.
He had his new racing bike, and the growler that could be used for a quick get away.

"Anybody need a ride? I think that even with two riders the Mirage is faster than most wheels.  There is also the growler. "


He found himself going after the family and smile, with his gun ready for action.