[gilga]

"Err... I know what you mean this was one wired shit. Very addictive I must say I sort of miss her already.
Still you got to admit, it gives a completely different view on headcases. I mean maybe it is not that terrible not to be alone in your mind if you share it with the right entity. Maybe this is some sort of poorly understood resonance or AI thing.  Don't worry about me tough... I heard you need nanites to sort of get CFD, I sort of stayed away from these things because they interfere with my mojo. It was actually some very odd summoning technique I stumbled upon, it has some potential letting me hot siming while not completely defenseless. If I ever get that rig in my head it may be a good for rigging, if I can repeat the process. Very odd I must say, all my muscles are hurting like hell from this astral combat and jumping and turning. I bet this is how the car feels after you push it to its limits in 300km/h or something" He laughs.

[Kinkerbell]

Its only a few hundred meters of stalking through dark pipe before the runner team, their human cargo, and their guide come to a T junction with a large metal door that looks for all the world like a submarine hatch form an old trid sitting in the middle of it. The door is inscribed with a crude spray-painted spider, and a much better ARO of a red hourglass, one that only pops up when the viewer is within a few meters.

As they approach the makeshift seal that keeps Widow's Way locked away from the sewer annex they're in, Goodnight glances around, doing a quick headcount, then swears softly in French. "Hold tight a sec, 'Tasha." She says quietly. "I need to square something away right quick." Quickly, she grabs a blank matrix data file and inscribes the route they took. Its not difficult, there's nowhere one could branch off and get lost until the hatchway itself. The resulting map is rough but passable, nowhere near what a mapsoft could get but easy enough to read and to scale. She takes a snapshot of the hatchway in front of her  and appends it, then packages the file and distributes it across the team's comm network to Nitro, cc'ing Melisa's host and, after a moment, Al and Isaint as well.

<<Nitro, I am not totally conversant in the makeup of your team, but we appear to have less people than we did a few minutes ago. Could you make sure everyone has a copy of this? You've got the clearest signal and I don't want anyone getting left behind.>>

Turning back to Natasha but pitching her voice loud enough for those nearby to hear, Goodnight says, "We're just going to wait here for a moment so everyone can catch up." She gestures at the door and says, "If you're curious, this was put in a decade ago. Its actually a hatch from an old ship that was rusting in the Docklands. All mechanical and very sturdy, and no one really knows its here because of the lack of power or matrix signature. Funny thing is, no one is sure where it came from. It just popped up overnight. This was a solid wall before then. Just one of the little mysteries of Below." She grins at Natasha and says, "If you liked history in school, you'll love this next part. This door is going to drop us into a Roman processional. Its pretty well weathered these days, but parts of it are still recognizable."

Across the team's channel, Goodnight says, <<Beyond that door is a bloody great tunnel. Its tall, its old, its wide, and its creepy. It is mostly safe, but as we get near the far end we'll be getting close to some old catacombs, and there are rumors about what lives inside so keep your eyes peeled. I don't know of any groups that have been assaulted here, but lone travelers disappear every so often and there's always a first time.>>

[gilga]

Solo receives the message and say to Nitro, "lets get close to the guide.... she seems a little tight but maybe we should just play along we are in her element after all. What is this fancy formation we are doing?"

He is a bit breathless seeing her for the first time or sort of the first time, he was aware of her pale hair and skin, but her appearance did not make such an effect on M,  she was breath taking Solo felt drowning in these big eyes and these thick lips of her... "Quite a looker our guide isn't she? I saw her, but that spirit looks at people very differently then we do." He was afraid that M would be socially awkward but Goodnight was stunning even for a nymph.  He'll get used to it eventually and M just looked at her in the astral where magic and physical appearance were less of an effect.
As they approached her and sort of waited for everyone to catch up, Solo was wondering if she really want everybody close to her or she is trying to mess up Isaints fancy tactical formation just to spite.
A bit hesitant to approach and a still a bit dazzled by her look and his own very unusual experience he approach her and introduced himself. "Hi, I am Solo... nice to meet you. I am usually a decker, but sometime I conjure as well. As you might have noticed."

[Kinkerbell]

Goodnight puts a hand protectively on Natasha's shoulder as she hears footsteps, but relaxes as she sees that it's Melisa's host rather than Isaint, Al, or the Ork with the bow. She favors him with a dazzling, million-nuyen smile that holds near-boundless warmth and apparent joy at Solo's simple introduction, and her cheeks dimple girlishly. She puts a hand to her throat and says in a breathy, throaty voice, "Oh my word! A man of diverse talents as well as striking looks!" There is no mockery in her voice, no humor. She appears to mean what she is saying, and her smile widens as she continues, "I am honored to find myself in such exalted company! A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. Around here, everyone calls me 'Goodnight.'"

Goodnight nods at the door and tells Solo, "This marks the beginning of Below. We're just holding off for a moment so the last of your team can catch up, and then we'll be down the rabbit hole in truth." She glances at Natasha and evaluates something in her head for a moment before looking back at Solo and asking, "So, good sir, have you come up to keep this beautiful young lady-" Goodnight falters a second as Natasha blushes at the sincerity in Goodnight's words, and Goodnight stifles a laugh. I seem to have that effect on people,[/i] she thinks wryly before picking up, "-and I company in the deep darkness of Widow's Way? I'm sure we would both feel better having you near."

[ScytheKnight]

Receiving the message and map the flamboyant rigger grins and nods, moving a few step back up the tunnel he appears to be staring back the way they came, his head making frequent adjustments. This odd display was actually just Nitro trying to get an optimum alignment of his antennae to get a boosted signal out of the tunnels.

Nitro to team. <<Alright, seems someone is lagging behind, our wonderful guide suggests this is bad for continued breathing so whoever it is that's lagging follow the included map double time!>> <File Attachment: Tunnel Directions>

Focused on the task he doesn't catch all of Solo's ramble, but he still gives the runner a look that suggests he's a few twinkies short of a Suffer Shack and shakes his head. "I dunno abou' tha... No' exac'ly my area o exper'ease mine ye, bu' a ma'er of professonal concern. Allsi been abble fine ou' is folks wit ware, spesly nanites, goin strain' an no lonner really 'emselfs, an tha is scarin some folks somtin mighey serus."

[Jack_Spade]

He pauses to watch the scroll of orders before outright bursting into laughter. "Ye kiddin' right? We're headdin inta onr o' the wildes' par's o London an ye wannus te be frogmarchin like sum fuckin corpsec goons? No' ta mention leavin me drone hangin' ass out ta get chewed up ifya winup missin an ambush... I dun normally take me dones allon' li'e this, that an with the wirelass as bad assit might be, I'mma keep 'er close thanyeveryfukinmuchferaskin."

He shakes his head still chuckling and strides down into the sewers, his drone following behind near the roof.

Isaint replied to Nitro:
<<Nitro from Isaint: There is no frog march, only overlapping fields of vision. If you don't want to risk your drones, you should probably not bring them to a place like this. Still, it's just a suggestion. I rely on you then to provide better cover than I can envision.>>

As the question of the missing runners came up, Isaint opened another channel to the Frenchman:
<<Sorry, I was distracted  by a non-mission item. We are already underground. Our guide has provided an allegedly secure parking space for our rides. Send your car per autopilot there (location.map). We are waiting for you at the T-junction. NItro has sent you the details.>>

[obidancer]

The Frenchman gave one last look around. In his mind it was clear someone was playing puppeteer with them all. Nevertheless, if he wanted to see the end of that mission, he had to make sure he'd keep an eye on a good old Doc, even if that included following everyone to the bottom of London or Hell, or whatever they were calling that non welcoming area.
Deep down, however, there was something pulling him back toward the group stronger than simple mission parameters: the single man he'd found in weeks to have any clue about the Frenchman's past was among them, and the Frenchman had no intention to let that lead go away.

He opened the trunk of his car, shoved his essential equipment and clothing inside his sturdy duffle bagpack and send to his car the command to get back to the garage where he lived, after having erased the itinerary he'd traveled to and from since yesterday. He put his coat back on and turned on the electrochromic coating to give it a more rugged and used, dirty look.

A rough map of where the team was heading appeared as an ARO in front of him. The Frenchman grinned. Already then, let see what London Below has to offer. He looked at Hallucination. Wanna come, girl?

It wasn't long before he regrouped with the rest of the team. The Frenchman could be as silent as a Ninja, but he knew it was better not to spook anybody. He texted his imminent arrival and upon joining back with the team acknowledged every one present. He nod at ISaint making sure to make eye contact and was happy to see no one was hurt from the Spirit fight. He grabbed and kissed Mel's hand. The crazy rigger was there too. Sorry for the delay, was making sure no one was behind us and bingo, a Suit shows up and boss around the Fire Marshall! Needless to say I have a bad feeling about this. I got a shot of the Suit, though.
Well, well, what do we have here? He asked upon laying eye on the all white elf girl. Elf? no she was no ordinary elf, could she be one of those infamous Dryad? Seeing her beauty wold only confirm his thoughts. No matter how bad the mission was going, he had been lucky with female side of the team. Hal had a lot of charms, Mel was dropdead gorgeous and this new one - the guide? - was almost too attractive to be real. Maybe some sort of illusion or physical mask. This day did nothing to his dislike of Magic, but more than never, it had its use.
Madame, he said to Goodnight in his perfect French.


 

[ScytheKnight]

Isaint replied to Nitro:
<<Nitro from Isaint: There is no frog march, only overlapping fields of vision. If you don't want to risk your drones, you should probably not bring them to a place like this. Still, it's just a suggestion. I rely on you then to provide better cover than I can envision.>>

The rigger snorts again before replying. Nitro to Isaint <<Until of course anyone realizes what you're doing and exploits it. What is it those UCAS Marines say? "Adapt and overcome motherfucker"? You do things a certain way, you can be easily anticipated, the less you plan out the more you can improvise and adapt to the situation.>>

As the Frenchman finally arrives he does a headcount before nodding with a grin to Goodnight. "Allrigh; lossli'e we're all 'ere. Rea'on time te ma'e ousselfs scares eh?"

[Kinkerbell]

"Bonsoir, mon ami, et bienvenue!" Goodnight replies pleasantly as the Frenchman draws up. Her accent is still colored with a strangely musical polyglot, as befits a UK native learning it from an Italian, but her French is more than passable as she turns her smile on him. Her dimples deepen as she tells The Frenchman, "What you have is a dryad sorceress and a lovely young lady who has consented to be her traveling companion for the moment." She brushes Natasha's shoulder with one hand, making sure to look at her and make her feel included before continuing, "And of course you know our staunch protector, he of the many talents, wandering eye, and singular companion!"

For someone who is hamming it up good and proper, Goodnight does a remarkable job of not sounding like she's poking fun. Her intended effect is actually to fill them with pride, not indignation or anger at being scorned. Her conversations with Al and Isaint not withstanding, her usual modus operandi is to encourage and compliment, and she keeps anything but sincerity and pleasure out of her voice as she tells The Frenchman, "Now Natasha and I are doubly blessed with two skilled, vital, attractive young men to keep us safe from the darkness of Below. Truly, I am thankful for your presence."

Nitro breaks in to urge them on and Goodnight gives a curt nod. Switching back to English she says, "Of course, sir. Let us depart." Her SecondSkin grows brighter, not enough to illuminate the area properly but enough that, like her contacts, it can be used for low-light vision. Swathed in dim violet light, she reaches out and twists the wheel of the door sharply, then throws it open.

On the other side of the door was naught but darkness, but as Goodnight steps through, those who can see in the dark in one form or another can see cyclopean black walls, pitted basalt carved with small, ancient characters. "Welcome to Widow's Way." Goodnight says. "We've got a long walk ahead of us. Those who can't see me, just remember to turn to your left coming through the door. Those with thermal vision, if you see anything that isn't us, speak up fast."

Goodnight sets off down Widow's Way, her boots tapping on the ancient, scarred cobblestones with which it is paved. The processional is wide, some twelve meters at this point, but Goodnight sticks close to the left-hand wall, the black stone- shiny with age- faintly reflecting her glowing purple. "What you are seeing," she says conversationally to Natasha, Solo, and The Frenchman, "Is the remains of the wall of honor, a practice similar to what modern militaries and police departments sometimes do. The characters tell stories, giving names, deeds, and great battles of some of the more august dead in the Catacombs. The white pillars," she points to a broken-off pedestal, its jagged top at about waist level and the rest of it in pieces strewn about the processional, "used to be Triumphal Columns, put up for great victories. Some can still be read, if one is a student of ancient languages."

Over the team's comm, she chats, <<I figure the tour guide impersonation will help the Doctor and his family keep their minds off of their present circumstances. And before anyone points out that I stand out with the purple glow, let me say that anything hunting us down here isn't doing it by visual light alone. Some of it may not even have eyes.>>

[gilga]

To Nitro: "Well if I was completely sane I wouldn't have been here in the first place. I'd find a day job in some double or perhaps even a triple A cooperate, climb high enough on the pyramid and make crap-load of money, but it is safe and boring. It is like being dead already... I frankly do not care much what people think - it is just a gig and I do my job the best I can. Tomorrow when there is no such a grand all star job in town I am back to working alone.  It's good to have another voice in your head when you are alone with the danger, and I never had such a powerful HTR on my tail, downed a copter in a populated area or had my house set on fire until today... So many bad things in a single day, make me think if I should have take this job in the first place or just do Soloing something a bit less ambitious. "

Solo is a bit surprised by his warm welcome, he is handsome, but nothing spectacular.  His dark hair cut short in a fashionable cut and he keep his clothes clean and try to always smell good. Socially aware of his surrounding. 
He remains silent to Goodnight's introduction, finding it hard to speak.  He blushes a little bit being called exalted company but recovers when he thinks of Natasha and her horrible day with gunfires, magic spirits and who knows what else in the future. He makes an effort to make her giggle just a little bit, hoping it will help her digest the events of the day in an healthier manner.
 
He bows and holds Natasha's hand. With a completely serious voice he say"You are indeed a beautiful young lady... my assault rifle, deck and mojo are at your service. I am sorry for the hardships of the road and I hope it will make a good story one day." He give her a warm smile and kisses her hand. 

After a short while he stands up and face both Goodnight and Natasha. "I am still a bit overwhelmed by recent events but I will enjoy your company very much." It is true but he feels that mentioning it will give legitimacy to the teenage emotions, she'll know that even experienced runners do not casually fight spirits, burn buildings, kill armored people and wage mages, levitate cars and driving invisible at extreme speeds... no not every day is like that even in the exciting life of a shadow runner.

[Jack_Spade]

The rigger snorts again before replying. Nitro to Isaint <<Until of course anyone realizes what you're doing and exploits it. What is it those UCAS Marines say? "Adapt and overcome motherfucker"? You do things a certain way, you can be easily anticipated, the less you plan out the more you can improvise and adapt to the situation.>>

<<I had no idea that you were a marine. I can only rely on my training with the KSK. I am still alive and have not yet been bested in the use of these tactics. That's all I can say to endorse my way of doing things. Your drones, your choice.>>

This is really not my day. The only thing missing is the Frenchman remembering he does want to kill me after all.

Resigned he loaded noise reduction on the virtual machine on his link and tried to aim the fresnel fabric of his coat so that he kept contact to the matrix.

#90

[Kinkerbell]

Goodnight takes the opportunity afforded by Solo's charming of Natasha to chant under her breath as they walk. Her aura surges in the astral, and in the physical plain there is a faint cracking sound, like wood in a campfire, coupled with a warml, low laugh. The spirit appears briefly, a gorgeous woman bright white skin, scarlet hair, and luminous orange eyes. Clad in ribbons made of red-tinted smoke that wrap around her chest, waist, and hips, Goodnight can just barely see the horns poking out from her bangs, a more subtle summoning than the vengeful demoness of earlier. She bows to Goodnight and then, with a smile that is almost as dazzling as Goodnight's she bows to Natasha as well at Goodnight's unspoken request. The spirit turns back to Goodnight and says, "I shall await your pleasure, should you need me 'ere long."

Goodnight shakes her head and nods at Natasha. "No. I would ask you protect this girl. Do so until we reach our destination of the moment, and you will have fulfilled any services owed to me."

The spirit nods and, speaks at Goodnight's urging, saying, "Of course, lady conjurer. Anything for such a bright and lovely young thing." She smiles at Natasha and Goodnight, and smirks wickedly at Solo before she blinks out, back to the astral to watch and wait.

Goodnight grins and looks at Natasha. "There, now you are as protected as I can make you. Between myself, these fine and dashing young bravos, and your spiritual guardian, we shall see you and yours safely through this unhappy affair."

To Solo and Nitro she sends, <<I know, I know. I'm a huge drama queen. But she's a kid. Kids should feel safe, should be safe.>>

[gilga]

A drama queen, hell yes but it is not that gorgeous spirit it is the moral debates and slapping she is a very emotional one. Then again - she seems to know mojo rather well. Solo just waited for an opportunity to bind some mid force spirits. They seemed to be heading a world of harm, and while mojo was a powerful force to hide from underground they are in uncharted territory their guide is not an expert in combat and they just might be ambushed again...

It sort of did not bothor him that much but he feared that her true colors would show under pressure can this dazzling smile remain when the swat guys approach? he was not sure. Firing a mental comand form the throdes in his helmet, he answers:
>> You are a drama queen, but it is not just that spirit... *smiles*. M really liked you by the way.

[adamu]

So this was the Kingdom of the Crazies. As much as it was living up to its name so far, it couldn't hold a candle to the unnaturalness and degeneracy he was hearing among his own companions. If it weren't for this family he'd promised to protect, he'd be a memory by now.

Bad enough they were being led by some demon-loving hippy she-Spock, but then Solo, whom Al had really respected, had gone and turned himself into a woman. Al finally realized he'd been mounted, which he had some experience with back in N.O. and Seattle, but he was still disappointed the man had a let the female spirit have its way with him.

And now their guide had not only summoned another demon, but this one had horns too. And why were they all naked? He didn't mind personally, but it did suggest an unacceptable moral laxity, what with children present and all.

At least Isaint had shown his mettle. He was a stand-up tusker who knew his business, but back in Oxford Al had been a bit put-off by the guy's infatuation with gel rounds and so forth. That was a game could get you killed. But hearing him lay his thoughts out more clearly, he could see where he was coming from now. Not that he was about to start loading his shotgun with fake ammo in this lifetime. But when the ork had suggested the bounding overwatch, Al was on board - he'd gone along with the goblin's tactics in the hostage situation and they'd worked well, so he was in. He glanced at his assignment in the formation, grabbed Rachel Pelletiere, and shared a bemused look with Isaint - a "wow, what a ball-busting bitch" moment - before moving off to take up his position.

Now as they walked along, he was quietly reassuring Rachel about how safe she was with him, regaling her with a tale of some archeaologists he'd guided into the ruins of Tehran after some artifacts, but changing a few details so that they all came out alive. As he spoke - he typed out a text. It was to the team only. He probably would have gone ahead and included Goodbye, but he didn't have her code.

<<Soon as practical, we need to have a powwow. I think I've worked out the best buyer for the Doc - best for him, and best for us - along with a conduit to approach said buyer. Let NightNight know we need to stop when appropriate.>>

[Aria]

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

From the Frenchman’s vantage point he sees the timely arrival of London’s finest firefighters…it may not be the nicest part of town but letting fires spread in a light industrial area is asking for trouble.  A single Met cruiser joins them and the officer lounges on his bonnet, there not even being any bystanders to warn off at this hour of the morning on this stretch of the bank.  Moments later an unmarked black sedan pulls up and a sharply dressed individual steps out and strides confidently towards the officer (a detective, here, for this?  Or something else…?).  When spoken to the officer almost looks like he’d doff his cap if he was wearing one, and he sharpens up immediately.  The suited gentleman then proceeds to address the crew fire chief in muted but authoritative tones.  There’s a bit less kowtowing here, and more arm waving by the crew chief, but clearly the suit gets his way, whatever that may be…

***

Inside the Widow’s Way, the team gathered, those that are coming, the group progress with quiet caution…the tunnels echo with little more than the scuff of feet, the whisper of breath and the whine of the Bumblebee and Solo’s Growler, the electric engines sounding loud in the silence.  The family struggle along beside the runners, their resilience surprising considering their comfortable corp upbringing, but they are beginning to flag as adrenaline fades and the lack of sleep begins to bite…  Natasha responds to the attention being lavished on her by the exotic Goodnight, however, and she seems the most alert and responsive…she might just survive this intact (although the odds are stacking increasingly against the family as they descend into Below).

From one moment to the next the group go from dark dank tunnels to light and dank open marsh with no warning beyond the next foot forward.  Despite the early hour they somehow know that it is late evening here.  Each of them is wreathed with a glowing energy pattern, for those in the know an astral signature and Goddnight's succubus is clearly visible once more…it would seem they have stepped into an unrecorded astral shallow…the regimented sound of the tramp of marching feet echo eerily through the mists rising off the water, and somewhere ahead there is the mournful hoot of an owl and its mate’s response call…

***
_#28