[DireRadiant]

The Crossroads, Auburn <<2072.09.27 04:22:16>>

Sitting between the industrial Auburn and devastated Puyallup, The Crossroads is on the rough and tumble side. The exterior of the club is low key, designed to look like a rundown manufacturing plant. The interior looks like a cross between an industrial plant and a biker bar.  The first floor consists of a stage and dance floor at the back, a bar at the center, darts and pool tables to the left, and booths and tables to the right. The second floor consists of rooms intended for private parties and business meetings.

You are in one of these meeting rooms.

The club itself exudes an undertone of cinnamon flavored desolation which contrasts with the clean vanilla mint flavor and mild caffeinated buzz permeating the meeting room. The low level oatmealy curtain ward keep the sensations distinctly apart.

<<AR|VR: The overlay is minimalistic and no-nonsense; the proprietor isn’t one for flash or glitz. The AR menus are bland, but there’s little spam in the club’s AR feeds. The club’s node is themed like the industrial plant the physical building is reminiscent of.>>

Norman Keyes rubs his eye patch absent mindedly and steps forward through the cone of noise. He's followed by a service drone carrying an array of your favored beverages and stimulants. Pausing in front of your table he makes a single nod of acknowledgement and drops a pile of worn credsticks on the table.

The readouts display only zeroes.

Norman grins, he pulls out a single credstick, and places it carefully in the center of the table, along with a cred reader and transfer device.

"Mr. Johnson said you did a good job. So bonus time. And I will say, don't forget to pay your tab before you leave tonight."

Norman leaves the room, leaving behind the single credstick.

It blinks steadily, 20,000....

[Necrogigas]

Malcolm Reed, a.k.a Mr. Smith, nodded to the proprietor as the man entered the room. He sighed internally, What the hell has Keyes gotten me into? I can't believe I actually went on a goddamn shadowrun. Reed picked up his drink, scotch on the rocks, and took a small sip. He casually scanned his partners in crime, he still didn't have a good sense of these people. That usually meant getting killed in negotiations, and in his new line of work it might be literally.

He didn't know what might set these people off, they were shadowrunners after all. I suppose I should stop thinking like that, I'm a shadowrunner now too. Still these "gentlemen" don't seem all that refined. He glanced down at his clothing; a dark grey lined coat, a light grey t-shirt, faded blue jeans and black sneakers with white laces. He wished he'd had a chance to change into his business suit, his current ensemble made him feel lowly.

He stood up, carefully, he didn't want to set off any itchy trigger fingers. He extended out his drink, "Gentlemen, to a successful venture." He took a quick sip, and gave his team the most charming smile he could. He made sure to make eye contact with each member of his team, he'd always been told his baby blues could melt the heart of a bug spirit. He just prayed that his eyes didn't betray his nervousness.

[Ethan]

Calvin grabs the ice water from the tray and swirls it once, conscious of just how unintimidating he looked compared to most of the 'crew'.

In the shadows, they called him 'Saint'. If they only knew... he thought, raising his glass to his team. He swallowed a gulp and chewed on the ice cubes. He smile back awkwardly at the elf, something in his demeanour seemingly familiar.

I really could use this money. But I can always use more... and that means we need to invest.

Lost in his thoughts, Saint will wait for a lull in the conversation before proceeding.

"Gents, let me go ahead and say this was the easiest couple thousand nuyen I've gotten in a while." Saint began, a little nervously. "I'd like to make more," he added with a laugh. "But," he continued, nodding at the blinking credstick, "that there's an even number, and we're an odd group..." He glanced around.

Coughing, "I mean, I suggest we split it eight ways. We can split it eight times-err--ways. It's a few hundred less nuyen for each of us, but uhh-the eighth could go and finance our next run. Might have to bribe someone, get special gear, whatever. That is... if you guys wanna keep doing this?..."

Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his ice water was forgotten in his left hand as he spoke. But he made eye contact with each one.

[bmoham]

As Jack waits for the money to appear, he leans against a wall and absently rests his hand on the assault rifle he carries - a vicious looking weapon made even more so by the customizations he's had done.

Only once the nuyen is confirmed does Jack reach for a beer.  He raises his drink in response to the toast "Nice work with the negotiations, college boy. An extra 5,000 nuyen to not kill anyone? Who ever heard of such a thing?! I'll need to pick up some non-lethal ammo if we do this again."

At Calvin's comment Jack turns and growls, in a low and dangerous sounding voice,  "No. We divide 20,000 by seven people - it's 2,850 each. Then we leave the other credits for the tab."

[WhackedMaki]

Exile grabs a beer as soon as they get brought out, and takes a large drink of it. He sits back, and seems to zone out. He's not used to social situations, and doesn't really know how to handle himself.

It's money, but it's not enough he thinks to himself, knowing that 2,000 won't get him much further in the life he has set up, or advance him towards his goal.

As Mr. Smith looks him in the eyes, he looks away, he knows the others here consider themselves smarter then he is. He'd probably like nothing more then to never see me again.

At Saint's mention of earning more money, he perks up though. "More money is good." He takes another long drink. A man willing to give up his magic for the power of technology. While many of them have embraced the power of technology, he has gone further. Always useful to have those willing to go the extra step.

When Jack makes his comment, he slams his bottle on the table, shattering it. He then turns and looks directly at Jack. "Eight."

[Gaius]

Oh man, how good is this drink? Jenever thinks as he takes a sip of the white russian cocktail in front of him. The drink is almost empty and his face shows the expression of disappointment. <<Keeper, another one please.>>

The money he earned today was easy money, so it looks like moving to Seattle finally paid out. It better should, since Vegas was starting to press on him for the first rate.
On the other hand how easy is money earned when you have to deal with guys like this Jack character. Heavily armed and highly aggressive a very dangerous mixture. At least they were on his side until now and he hopes that this will not change to soon especially not whilst he is outside his van.

When the talk begins he directs his attention to the team. Nodding when Calvin makes his suggestion. “Good idea. I fully agree.”

[sway]

Benny was never one to dwell on a job once it was done, but even he felt that this last run was a bit on the easy side. Once the client left and the bickering started, Benny squinted at the haphazardly arrayed creditsticks and what to him seemed like a clearly antagonizing set-up with the pay. It was like the client wanted them to bicker, maybe even escalate things. Perhaps he was trying to get his loose ends to cut themselves. If so, it was clearly working. Never trust a breeder. 

"There ain't no eight. We each signed on for a fair shake, equal cuts. Ain't nobody here votin' on what happens to other folks money. Unless we hugh-nan-imos... which we clearly ain't... there ain't no way wer reducin' cuts for some joint account. Dats just bad business."

With that, Benny pulls out his own creditstick, not trusting the employer's not to be rigged with a tracker or some other shenanigans.

"So lets just take our cuts and don't do nothin' stupid. An' if anybody has some biz on the hook, feel free to spin the deats. Nobody here seems to be in a rush."

[bmoham]

Goofy looking freak has the nerve to…
Careful thought fades to the background as Jack turns to face Exile squarely. Jack makes no overtly threatening moves. He maintains the same relaxed yet ready posture he displayed when toasting success, but his demeanor shifts from off-putting to intimidating.

At 6’ tall and 225lbs, Jack isn’t large for an Orc, but he carries himself with the attitude that has protected him on the streets. It screams - I don’t mind loosing, but I’m damn sure not going to let you win.

Attitude isn’t everything though. In the barrens Jack has a reputation for being vicious when he feels he’s been crossed.
And there’s his weapon. Everyone is armed, but he carries his like an extension of his body – plus you’ve see first hand that his personal touches make it as much a melee weapon as a firearm. His version of “non-lethal” is beating someone over the head with the butt of his rifle.

Empathy analysis complete.    

“You six can split up your shares however you want. Put it in a pool, give it to charity, snort it up you noses. I don’t care. But I’m taking my two thousand eight hundred and fifty nuyen." with a nod to Benny he adds "Then we can talk about other business.” 

[Ethan]

Saint raises his matte-black right hand in a placating manner. "Okay," he breathed, "that was dumb. And yeah I agree, hope you all brought your own credsticks," he says as he slowly pulls out a credstick of his own and lays it on the table in front of him.

"Let's do this first: we each take our twenty-eight-fifty. Then, let's discuss the future." He takes a sip of water. "We can always chip in from our cut later, if we want."

He nods in appreciation to Exile and Jenever, flashing each a 'worth a shot' grimace.

[WhackedMaki]

Exile continues to face Jack, but turns his vision to Saint as he speaks again. After he finishes, Exile pulls out a credstick and sets in in front of him.

He grabs another beer and sits back, taking a large drink. He never turns his head from Jack. Look at him. He's so weak. He talks big and acts scary, but take away his fancy hack box or gun, and he's nothing.

[DiscoDwarf]

Uncomfortable about the whole situation, the hobgoblin conspicuously rubs the hole in his armoured suit where a lucky bullet had harmlessly flattened itself against him during the job. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the obvious tension in the group, HB drains the remaining synthahol-laced cola from his glass before slamming it joyously on the table. "Well, at least that job was fun!" he explains, "don't see why I wouldn't want to do another one with you guys: Benny, we need to show me some of those fancy karate moves some time." Letting out a burp, he leans to have a look at the bar, not really caring about the use of the AR menu. "Hey! Barkeep! Give us another around, and if ya can, make the drinks stronger and the one serving it sexier".

Lacking social graces and revelling in it, he at least hopes that his light-hearted comments and off-color joke wil deflate some of the situation. "Saving sounds like a real sensible thing, sure, but I'm not sensible, and I thing we should party, so why leave only 50 for the tab? How 'bout we all go have lunch at the Big Rhino after?". Of course, he doesn't really think people will agree to his idea, but it's worth a shot. "Better not bring that gun there though Jack, but you prolly know that already, being an ork and all, you surely know how to handle yourself at the Rhino." The attempt is clumsy and feeble, but it's there: between the Jack, Benny and him, the common bond of Orks (and their variant!) is tentatively kindled, all of them agreeing to some degree on what should be done with the money: split it as fairly as possible, use the rest to celebrate. HB just feels like celebrating a bit more.

[Necrogigas]

Reed made mental note of Saint's forward thinking, Jack and Exile's agressiveness, and HB's uncouthness. He stared nervously between Jack, Exile, and the door,Oh god damn it, this is exactly what I was worried about happening. Those two can shoot the drek out of each other for all I care, but not with me in bullet range. Reed cleared his throat, "Well now that that has been settled, perhaps we should discuss the possibilty of continuing our business partnership. The success of this run has me open to us continuing to operate as a team. Gentlemen, your thoughts? He pulled out his own credstick and took his cut while hearing the replies of the others.

[Ethan]

Saint follow's Mr. Smith's lead and takes his cut, then tosses fifty nuyen into one of the battered credsticks as a tip.

On a whim, he inhales deeply and blinks and peers into the Astral to check the area. He summons a Watcher Spirit to ensure their privacy, with orders to manifest should there be someone who seems to be observing them astrally or physically.

There's a faraway look in his eyes, and he seems more... himself even though he looks like he's admiring the walls. He listens and nods as Mr. Smith talks.

"The last one was a bit last minute for me," Saint began then nodded at the credsticks, "not that I'm complaining. Here's my commcode, in case you didn't catch it the first time."

Taking another sip of his ice water, he continues. "My fixer hooked me up with this run while I was asking for something else. He's a bit... eccentric, and the runs involve magic more often than not. He may have something for me in a few days, but right now I'm open to working with any and all of you."

[WhackedMaki]

Exile finally turns his head away from Jack, and takes the credstick, transferring his share over.

"Here's the commcode. I'm always around. Rarely get anything fancy like this coming my way, so if you find another, I'll join.".

Exile takes another drink from his beer, and looks at HB,"I got nowhere to be. Show me where it is, and I'll come."

I wonder what this Mr. Smith, and Jenever can actually do...Didn't really get to see them in much action. Saint, Benny, and HB did a pretty decent job of taking down some guards, even if it was a bit slow at times. Even Jack took one down, after almost getting caught. Didn't want to have to rescue him, so glad he didn't.

[bmoham]

Jack rolls his eyes as Exile looks away without actually turning his head. Though the move itself is obscured by his mirrored shades the attitude is clear to everyone but Exile [unaware of all social tests?! Jack’s going to have fun with that!]
Freak. Eyes in the back of his head, but still blind to the obvious. If he pushes things I’ll back away and take the nuyen out of his dumb ass later. If I rip his eyes out of his head it would just about cover my cut. Why fight a beast like that up close? Besides, if I spook the college boy at this meeting he’ll probably bolt for good.

Jack offers a re-assuring smile to Mr. Smith “It won’t go down like that.” He explains, before transferring 2850 nuyen onto his credit stick.

With a nod of thanks to HB, Jack grabs a second beer “Allright. Lets talk business. After, Rhino sounds good.” With a quick glance to Benny he adds “I’ll pick up the first round there, for whoever wants to join us.”

To the group he says “I got no work on the hook, but anyone who wants to spend their nuyen on software, drones or a new SIN - I know some folks."
"Like, Jenever, that flyspy was handy, but you might want to install a Covert ops autosoft. Then you could avoid the cameras, instead of me hacking in and shutting them down before we went in."
"And, seriously, I’m gona pick up some stick-n-shock and a stun baton – one of those AZ-150 troll killers. If anyone has a contact, I don’t mind throwing some nuyen their way.”