[adamu]

Al listened to the mini-vamp politely but he never stopped walking - he'd seen her move - he reckoned she could talk and keep up at the same time.

And he stayed close to the family. They were moving more in group now, the four of them, and he was always close.

She was a lot more reasonable to deal with (so far), than her sister, and just as easy to look at.

He was turning over in his mind the best way to phrase his answer when Solo and Isaint said what he was thinking. "Well, li'l darlin', yer points're fair an' well taken. But my two compadres is right - we keep movin', straight fer this hotel place. An' first thing we git in there, we gon' have a powwow, all stakeholders present. Yer sister'll be welcome ta join us, if'n she's well enough. Then, an' only then, is there gon' be any splittin' up, an' then hopefully as little as possible."

He was eager to catch up a bit with Requiem, but he didn't want to be brusque with her. Her sister was crazy enough, and looking cross-eyed at this little blood-sucker would be the surest way to piss her off for once and eternity. "Listen, ya made yer case good, an' once we's sittin' down somewhere's, an' assumin' ya even care, I'll be happy ta lay out my reasonin' for ya. Fer right now, though, I jist ain't got the luxury."

[gilga]

As Requiem steped away for a moment, Solo asked Al "I did not want to say anything inappropriate, but who is that Requiem  guy?"

[adamu]

"Heh heh." Al was careful with his voice - he wasn't sure if Requiem's hearing was enhanced. "The lady I'm hopin' ta use ta broker our deal. She's a top flight fixer an' I trust 'er all the way. Well, reckon she and Requiem here done useta make the two-backed beast. Though how that works with the, well,the extra arm, I am not inclined ta speculate."

[gilga]

Oh ... you work very fast... thats good because I sort of miss working alone without all this emotional drama. This run is very odd... Lets hope we make it out in one piece.  

He is a bit emberessed visualizing what the cyberarm can be used for. He finally say "it add options"

[gilga]

Isaint had just upgraded his map when Al had his little say. "Thanks, that hotel looks good. But I too agree with Al: No more splitting up."
To Solo he said: "As enticing as it sounds, but there will be no alcohol for me before this whole thing is done and under wraps. But feel free to have one for me too."

With a few mental commands he informed his supplier where he should send the ordered equipment by courier drone. When he checked his balance he cursed audibly: "Verdammte Halsabschneider!"
Too a quizzical looking Solo he just said: "My other life catched up with me and the ADL has already taken its cut from my earnings. I'm lucky I kept my balance up, otherwise we could have added tax investigators to our growing number of visitors."

#120

I know how you feel said Solo. I am terrible with money no matter what I make I usually spend it all very quickly... you are paying taxes?!  How can that be?

[Jack_Spade]

"Yes, actually." Victoria says. "If people see an armed group protecting someone, then they will plan to attack once you leave the protection of Nightside. There's two hundred meters of tunnel hetween Nacht and the market. A family and a group of friends wont raise any eyebrows, but a shadowrunner team protecting an extraction certainly will."

She pauses. "Questions are good and feel free to ask them, but if you were using uninformed reasoning- that is, knowing nothing about Below and assuming you are on firm logical ground- on Fee, I can see why she's pissed at you." She shakes her head. "Ditto this putting your foot down thing. Explain. Reason. Ask questions. But the minute she was hired as a guide she became part of the team. If you try to give her orders, she'll frag you harder than a trog on novacoke. She doesnt take orders from anyone since the Vory. Me, Im not part of the operation. Im just a convenient proxy for a few hours so I cant do that, nor am I inclined to. But if you want her to be nice, you cant try to push her around or make her feel like just help, babe. That reminds her of being a joygirl."

<<Yes, I mind. Its nothing personal, but what she does to sustain me is her cross to bear and her story to tell. It involves magic and spirits and is impractical for widespread use. That's all I will say. Sorry.>>

"I am in no way putting my foot down. Despite any other problems this group has had so far we actually never had a situation where we couldn't rely on our self organisation. A group as diverse as this doesn't work with orders.
Mutual respect made everything work quite well - even between me and the Frenchman. And believe me, when we last met we did have a serious clash, being put into opposition through our respective employers.
So let me be clear: I fully respect you and your sister as well as your professional abilities.
But we others aren't exactly new born lambs either. So far every decision outside of combat was made in an utterly democratic fashion. So please don't take this as 'pushing you around'. We simply have a difference in opinion. I'll take full responsibility should our decision to stay together as a large group draw the unwanted attention you have dutifully warned us from."

<<Fair enough.>>

As the group moved towards the hotel and Solo engaged Isaint he just hung his head for a moment:
"Truth be told, my shadow work isn't usually illegal - or rather it's in areas where the powers that be aren't very interested in persecution. This extraction was an exception. More often, I am hired to prevent abduction or help to defend communities against other threats. As such I still have a legal SIN and all my income is subject to taxation. Luckily, the tax authorities don't care if the money came from illegal business. They just want their cut. It also helps that most of my work is done outside the ADL and especially Bavaria. But don't ask me how they know what I earn. I do use the usual shadow channels. Probably has something to do with technomancers and that Foundation thingy they talked about in JackPoint recently."

As they walked, Isaint instructed his Agent: <<Susi: Activate Agent Cluster. Search for feedback from weapons, smartguns, cybereyes etc. that are directed in our groups direction. Protocol Foxtrot.>>

[adamu]

Al was walking close to the family, and probing Requiem for info.

"Reckon I remember ya now, one o' Silk's shindigs - November, December last year. Sorry 'bout the lapse. Ol' Al might have been slightly impaired. An' he might have been wearin' his skivvies on his head and doin' the Dance o' the Flamin' Asshole on some tabletop."

"Yeah, you raised the bar for civilization that night."

"Sort of a callin' o' mine. But what're ya doin' the hell over here?"

"Silk asked me to join up. Maybe she was trying to get rid of me. But what she said was she wanted me to keep an eye on them. Apparently they're pretty high-speed. I mean global big league, in their own local way. Tied up enough in who-knows-what of Silk's machinations they bear monitoring."

"Well, yer monitorin' tell ya why these damn mimes is doggin' us? Hard to think it's coincidence."

"It was though. It was chance that we met you there. Honestly, man. But the thing is, with these guys, I'm not sure there is such a thing as chance. The weave - i thought it was crazy, but Hecate knows things. I won't say she knows the future, but, how can I put it? It's like she is so much into the flow of the present, that the future becomes academic. I don't know - not enough of me left to tap into it myself. Maybe she did know you'd be there. Or maybe after she met you she knew that she'd known you'd be there. But I'm pretty sure her intention really was to help you. For whatever reason. Like she said, a lot of you have roles to play."

Al spit. "Sheee-it. Fergive me fer askin', an' makin' ya even say all that. You know anything about cars...?"

[pistolgrip]

*** Sewer Entrance, several moments late ***

Aaron comes jogging into the sewer, only to see the party already walking away further into the Below. He rolls his eyes, happy to see the corpse that kidnapped the family in his car was apparently on the up & up, but quite annoyed that everyone had left nothing but burnt rubber, exhaust, and the ork archer behind. He jogs up behind them, turning a very few heads, most notably that of Tobbis, the highly-unsettling mutant-child that at very least knew what it was like to be ignored and/or forgotten. Once he caught up, he waved his hands around towards the other runners, the family, and himself, his gestures finding no verbal accompaniment as he simply continued trying to replenish his oxygen-starved blood. His face showed incredulity and questions, but in the end he breathed a huge sigh and simply continued on behind the rest.

*** Catacombs, from the rear ***

Far from the grit and glamour of street fights and car chases, this place was dark and oppressive and just downright life-sucking. The near-violent encounters between their party members was beginning to feel like just another part of the background noise, like the whole place was just a channel of negativity that found a voice in the family and the other runners. Aaron kept his mouth well enough shut, but his hand found a whole lot of comfort on the grip of his pistol as he walked. He wasn't sure exactly who he wanted to shoot, but he wasn't feeling too picky just then. Anyone said anything to piss him off and he'd be doing them a favor with a bullet--most of them would survive a bullet, which is more than could be said if he were to reach out and start throwing punches.

*** Encounter with the Troupe, some distance back ***

While they all walked, Aaron began to fall behind. He told himself it was for tactical reasons, but the truth was, he was just losing motivation. Mel and Hal were walking beside him, at least for a while, but they seemed to drag even further behind before long. He hadn't seen either of them in several minutes. But as the group of performers approached, everything started to feel alright again. He felt calm and just... okay. Maybe this wasn't a scene from a trid, but he'd be back in the action soon enough. And more importantly, this run wasn't about the glory, it was about the money. Yeah, something about these performers just put everything back into perspective. Some people started waving guns or making threats, but none of it really seemed that important. He didn't understand why everyone was getting so wound up over nothing. Then, when the singing began, for the first time he noticed the tour guide. Whoa. Who is that? Suddenly the feelings of peace were at war with an intense anxiety that wrapped around Aaron's throat, causing him to choke up. She'll never talk to me. She probably already married that French guy while I was pounding pavement. Damn him. I bet I could humiliate him in arm wrestling. The rest of what happened was mostly a blur as Aaron thought of ways he might casually introduce himself to this pale enigma. He wasn't even completely sure what kind of metahuman she was, but found it difficult to hold that against her.

*** Second Encounter with the Troupe ***

Any one of the performers was, while impressively agile, hardly an imposing sight. They didn't appear armored or even overly armed, nor did they seem to have any kind of military disciple. But when the large crowd of them all began dancing around the now-relatively-small group of defenders and the otherwise helpless family, Aaron's body went stiff. He could crush a sissy elf with a sissy pocket pistol in a matter of seconds. But that many of them added up to a lot of bullets, and not all the magic or 'ware in the world could make him bullet-proof. Not quite anyway. He instinctively crossed his arms and puffed himself up, as per his bodyguard training, but he never was very good at it. Sometimes it even came off as a bit comical. As the whole situation became somewhat technical--talk about "data" and such--Aaron slowly relaxed. Everything happened around him and he simply watched for the larger part. It wasn't totally clear what was happening, but people began to disperse instead of discharge firearms, so he decided it must all be ending well.

*** Encounter with Banshee ***

Aaron saw something moving in on the incredibly attractive tour guide, and his feet went into motion instantly. However, he'd made it no more than a meter by the time it was too late. He drew his gun and held it pointed up as he slowed, working around the party members between him and her. But then it soon became clear that this was some kind of social encounter, and as such really didn't need a large ork with a gun involved in it. He holstered his Omni, patting it and smiling at his own preparedness. He noticed the new arrival was also pretty easy on the eyes, and his thoughts began wandering. Now here's my chance. But how old is she? Ah, she has to be old enough. Hell, you only live once, and if you're an ork, not for very long. And Frenchie can have one or the other, but he can't have both. Aaron thought smugly. Then his smile changed to a sour, quizzical look. ...can he? For all of that, he failed to notice when things suddenly became less friendly. In a flash, Nitro was all shaken up and the tour guide was out cold. Some crazy woman from the crowd took her away - Damn. Back down to one. - and then everyone was back to bickering, this time about how they should arrange themselves as shoppers when going through the market. Hmm, a market. Maybe they sell books on advanced magic and how it applies to your fists. Surely there's some awakened boxer out there who can teach me how to take it to the next level.

[gilga]

"Yes, actually." Victoria says. "If people see an armed group protecting someone, then they will plan to attack once you leave the protection of Nightside. There's two hundred meters of tunnel hetween Nacht and the market. A family and a group of friends wont raise any eyebrows, but a shadowrunner team protecting an extraction certainly will."

She pauses. "Questions are good and feel free to ask them, but if you were using uninformed reasoning- that is, knowing nothing about Below and assuming you are on firm logical ground- on Fee, I can see why she's pissed at you." She shakes her head. "Ditto this putting your foot down thing. Explain. Reason. Ask questions. But the minute she was hired as a guide she became part of the team. If you try to give her orders, she'll frag you harder than a trog on novacoke. She doesnt take orders from anyone since the Vory. Me, Im not part of the operation. Im just a convenient proxy for a few hours so I cant do that, nor am I inclined to. But if you want her to be nice, you cant try to push her around or make her feel like just help, babe. That reminds her of being a joygirl."

<<Yes, I mind. Its nothing personal, but what she does to sustain me is her cross to bear and her story to tell. It involves magic and spirits and is impractical for widespread use. That's all I will say. Sorry.>>

"I am in no way putting my foot down. Despite any other problems this group has had so far we actually never had a situation where we couldn't rely on our self organisation. A group as diverse as this doesn't work with orders.
Mutual respect made everything work quite well - even between me and the Frenchman. And believe me, when we last met we did have a serious clash, being put into opposition through our respective employers.
So let me be clear: I fully respect you and your sister as well as your professional abilities.
But we others aren't exactly new born lambs either. So far every decision outside of combat was made in an utterly democratic fashion. So please don't take this as 'pushing you around'. We simply have a difference in opinion. I'll take full responsibility should our decision to stay together as a large group draw the unwanted attention you have dutifully warned us from."

<<Fair enough.>>

As the group moved towards the hotel and Solo engaged Isaint he just hung his head for a moment:
"Truth be told, my shadow work isn't usually illegal - or rather it's in areas where the powers that be aren't very interested in persecution. This extraction was an exception. More often, I am hired to prevent abduction or help to defend communities against other threats. As such I still have a legal SIN and all my income is subject to taxation. Luckily, the tax authorities don't care if the money came from illegal business. They just want their cut. It also helps that most of my work is done outside the ADL and especially Bavaria. But don't ask me how they know what I earn. I do use the usual shadow channels. Probably has something to do with technomancers and that Foundation thingy they talked about in JackPoint recently."

As they walked, Isaint instructed his Agent: <<Susi: Activate Agent Cluster. Search for feedback from weapons, smartguns, cybereyes etc. that are directed in our groups direction. Protocol Foxtrot.>>

"This seems healthy. " Said Solo "I usually work alone, typically for matters where you want to limit the number of people involved. Data theft, blackmail and accidents. I do it all and most of the time nobody finds out. I am a bit more limited now as I try to learn how to do things in different ways... I decided to avoid killing. This got me in a lot of problems this is how I ended up here. Looking for new contacts. Killing is bad for my sainity. I am recovering from some dark times. "
...
"About how they find out, where there is money involved the possibilities are endless, I did some jobs for tax authorities. They pay nice finder fee... but it feels dirty."

[Kinkerbell]

Victoria rolls her eyes, and the accompanying sigh and expression are the magnificently put-upon ones that only a teenager can muster. They say that every adult in the world is stupid and clueless and no one can understand her pain at having to deal with them. Shaking her head slowly, she says, "Aaaaaaalllllright," drawing the word out. As Nitro begins to split off, she says, "Clinic's down on one. Go south about fifty meters, take the stairs all the way to the bottom, turn right, then left, then right. Send a couple drones with me and I'll make sure they get charged and secured."

She sets off, the rest of the team falling in around the family as she leads them towards Nacht. Its not a long walk, not really, but in the crowded corridors of Nightside it takes a while. They pass storefronts and stalls hawking commlinks, electronics, programs both legitimate and pirated, and more than a few home-coded. There are clothiers, housewares shops, liquor stores and bars, and everything else one would expect to find in a crowded shopping center. No evidence exists of weapons, magic, or the more exotic or nefarious items, those shops being on other levels. The air is redolent with the smells of food and sweat and metahumanity, and the din of voices raised in arguments, laughter, haggling and talking is almost deafening.

Victoria walks through the crowd like she is born to it. Some people recognize her, or see her aura for what it is. They move, often hurriedly. For everyone else she uses a smile or a kind word or a well-placed elbow to carve a path through the crowded mass, and the two orks with the team are large enough to hold it open for everyone else.

The near-kilometer walk takes them out of the market and back into the tunnels, though these are better-lit and in better repair than the Way. Foot traffic is heavy, and there are other businesses beyond the market proper. Once they leave nightside, however, the raucous demeanour of the metahumanity inside gives way to smaller groups, quieter, often with hunted or hunting looks. The message is clear. Nightside is safe, but beyond it, might entirely makes right, and more than a few of those they pass through challenging looks at Isaint, Aaron, Solo and The Frenchman, and mocking or lascivious leers at everyone else.

Victoria ignores them, and eventually they come to a building that appears to be built into both levels of the old tube tunnels, as well as the access shafts above and below it. From the outside it is a slab of poured black stone with a single frosted door bearing a stylized N. Victoria leads them inside, and the team may be shocked to find that it is actually quite pleasant. Everything is in black and white, the floors tiled in a chessboard pattern, and the imposing front desk is topped by black marble and flanked by columns sheathed in the same polished sable stone. A large, heavily built human with greying hair and a magnificent moustache stands behind it, and four room keycards are on the counter before him. He nods at Victoria and growls, "Miss Flower called ahead. You have the whole of the top floor, all four rooms and the private lounge with Nacht's compliments."

Victoria blinks. That must have cost a fortune. She turns to the team and says, "Three flights up. Two suites, two rooms, and a private lounge. Apparently Goodnight and Flower have already covered it, so sort out who is bunking with who." She nods to one side, where there's several large black armchairs and a polished ash- or reasonable fake- table and says, "I'll wait down here for you."

[adamu]

“Come with, if’n ya want. Next bit’s decision time, an’ yer sister’s got a say. Since she ain’t here, you could be ‘er voice. Your call. Anyhoo, thanks fer pinch-hittin’.”

Then he turned to Requiem. “Nice seein’ ya again, but this next bit’s fer us what’s onna job. You understand. Less o’ course you’re representin’ Silk...”

And with that he headed up the stairs. On the way up, he spoke to Richard Pelletiere. “Now I know you an’ yours is good an’ knackered, but like I promised, first thing we sit down an’ consider a possible exit ol’ Al’s laid out. Then you an’ yer kin can take one o’ the suites an’ put yerselves back together a bit.”

Once they hit the lounge, he took a look around, noting who was still with them. When Nitro had headed for the clinic, Al had suggested he might want to be here, and the man had made his choice.

Now he spoke to the team: “Any o’ you pros wanna do whatever you do ta make a place secure from pryin’ eyes an’ ears, ya best git to it, cuz ol’ Al’s gon’ lay things out.” He got the family seated together on a sofa, and he took an armchair across a coffee table from them, Spike at his feet.

Dammit, he was out of smokes again.

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint looked around approvingly. That was better than he had hoped: Solid walls, clear line of sight, few to no windows and a whole floor for the group. The lounge area especially would come in handy.
He walked over to the man at the counter: "Servus, interessanten Stil habt ihr hier, gefällt mir. Ich erwarte demnächst eine Lieferung, Empfänger Isaint. Geben Sie mir bitte Bescheid sobald sie eintrifft. Danke."
"Hallo, you have an interesting style here, I like it. I'm expecting a delivery shortly, receiver Isaint. Please contact me as soon as it arrives. Thanks.

As Al took the lead, Isaint followed and took a look in every room, recording a layout with his ultrasound sensor. It was always good to have the lay of the land.
On Al's suggestion, he activated the white noise generator and the jammer in his mask - without the wireless function to except their own electronics. He also used the time to reboot his complete gear to get rid of any residual marks. For good measure he turned on his commlink's speakers and let it play a bit of music that would hopefully confuse any recording equipment.

"Now I'm really curious what plan you have hatched there." He had finally taken of the mask as well as the helmet. Beneath those an almost surreal amount of hair became visible that obscured his head and face completely. "And don't make us wait to add tension. I really need a shave..."

#124

[ScytheKnight]

Nitro tilts his head slightly at the instructions and nods, Vicki's comlink pings, notifying her of a pair of marks on the combat drone. "alrigh, soun' goo'. Lissen' I'll hea' 'own 'ere, I cinna hi'e tha fac' Iemma ru'er, so I'll go do sommin a 'unnerwoul' do inna pla'e li'e 'is. I'll senna Bum'leBee wi' ya, ta'e 'are of i' eh? Fra'in' sensor a'ays cos' a for'une." in one thing that might be slightly odd he doesn't ask way is south, even down here he seems to have an unerring sense of direction as he turns to leave.

[adamu]

Watching people settle in, some setting up security precautions, Al really wished Nitro was here.

When the man had left, Al had spoken briefly to him. "We git ta this underdark B&B, amigo, we gon' sit down an' it's gon' be decision time on a way outta this mess. Hate for ya not ta have a say," he'd said.

Now, noting the combat drone hovering on the perimeter, he waved and grinned and hoped the freaky-haired hippy was with them virtually, even if not in the flesh.

[ScytheKnight]

Nitro pauses at Al's comment, looking back, his cybereyes incapable of showing any emotion and his face and voice doing little to compensate. "Loo' Iwas hire' ta 'o a jo', te ge' you lo' from Poin' A te Poin' B... 'his 'ole Un'erworl' drec' ain my worl' an muchas sommoya seemma care allo' abou' those fou' we haulin' aroun'. Ennatha 'ay, they'e no'in' more tha' anna payche' an' su'essful jo' fer us. You sough'ou' where we goin an ge'us topsi'e annill ta'e ca'e o' the res' eh?"