The Agency: Fear & Loathing IC Options

[dionysus]

Day 1, 0200 - Seattle Waterfront, UCAS
A thin fog covers the streets; the day had been warm and humid and the night cool, creating drifting, rising wisps of almost-tactile moisture. While light, the mist has a deadening effect on sounds, making the constant whine and rush of traffic seem miles away. A jet passing overhead sounds like a loud breath: someone exhaling forever, thousands of feet above you. Behind you, back downtown, bars are starting to close all over the city, spilling drunk & disorderly wageslaves onto the streets; the noise is detached and distant in the misty night air. Each of you, lost in your own thoughts, all stop at the same time and stare up at your destination.

The Agency never holds a meet in the same place twice. This particular building in front if you has demolition notices plastered on all the street-level windows, and part of the roof is missing. As you walk through the hallways, you see piles of broken acoustic tiles, wires & fiber cables dangling from the ceiling like ivy, tools lying on the floor in untidy heaps. You pass through empty security checkpoints with a smile: the smoothest infiltration you've ever done. The building is silent: the Agency's prep teams made sure that schedules & work orders aligned like the stars, so workers and construction drones have been absent for most of the day.

There's one elevator (mostly) working. One light flickers crazily the whole 4-story ride, and the ventilation blows hot, humid air on you. The doors open onto a hallway. At the opposite end, there's an oak-panel door with two trolls standing on either side: they don't actually have "BODYGUARD" printed on their horns, but it isn't really necessary. You ask for Mr. Johnson, and one of them graciously opens the door.

The room looks like it was once a reception area for some nameless service company, but everything's been carefully stacked on one side, with the standard-issue folding table in the middle. The room smells of bleach, ozone and OCD: a comforting sign that the prep team has been through, sterilizing, organizing and arranging everything just so; giving the meet that obsessive, precise Agency touch. The room is almost oppresively neat. You could eat off the floor and perform surgery on the folding table.

The Johnson sits across the immacualate table from you, with two more bodyguards a polite distance behind him. He's a tall, broad-shouldered ork with the confident, cultured expression that's the business card of an experienced Johnson. He's clearly a pro: suit neatly pressed and well-coordinated, hair carefully trimmed. No tattoos, no jewelry, no facial hair, no identifying marks whatsoever. A tablet-sized commlink sits on the table in front of him, exactly squared to the edges of the table, the stylus arranged exactly parallel.

The Johnson gestures towards chairs facing him and, once you're all seated, makes his pitch.

Johnson: "My clients are in the market for information. Specifically, they have learned of certain shipments crossing the Seattle border into the Cascade mountains, destination unknown. My clients would like you to find out what the shipments contain and where they are headed. The contract would require a short stay in the mountains, lodging provided. The pay is 35,000. Are there any questions?"

[ludomastro]

Grandpa clears his throat and asks, "Will you provide maps of the area? Preferably topographic. Are there any weather issues this time of year that we need to be aware of?"

Want to get him talking at least so the rest of the team can get a feel for what we can expect from him.

[dionysus]

Grandpa clears his throat and asks, "Will you provide maps of the area? Preferably topographic. Are there any weather issues this time of year that we need to be aware of?"

Want to get him talking at least so the rest of the team can get a feel for what we can expect from him.

The Johnson smiles and nods.
"Maps, of course. We'll send the data to the Agency's node, it should be there within the hour. As far as weather," he shrugs slightly, "it's hard to tell. The lodgings are on the side of a fairly high mountain, so the possibility for inclement conditions is always with us. We do not foresee any problems, but cannot guarantee anything, of course. We will also provide transportation to the area in question."
"In all seriousness, we do not intend for the stay in the mountains to be the most challenging part of the assignment. It is simply a necessary beginning."

[BlackHat]

Oracle enters the room silently with his companions. His distant-looking eyes pan around the room as he takes in the auras present. As everyone is seated, and the Johnson begins his pitch, Oracle begins to sway slightly in his seat - eyes closed. When the Johnson stops speaking, Oracle seems to snap out of his trance and turns his attention to AR for a few moments, while Grandpa speaks up. When the Johnson responds, Oracle seems to stare off into space again, stopping to glance at each member of the team, even Ziro's astral form, with the same distant look in his glowing blue eyes, before gasping for breath and returning his attention to the room. Finally, he speaks, softly - in words meant only for his companions, but with no attempt made to keep them from the Johnson. "Our futures are all clouded by fear and darkness - it clings to him," Oracle points towards Johnson, "- but he is not is source. He will not betray us."

"By this very meeting, however, our Paths have crossed, and it wraps its tendrils around us all. A malevolent presence hovers beside Death, our constant companion, but is no immediate threat to us. I sense... protection, safety. I do not believe we are meant to die during this quest, but Ziro should beware. The dark mist has taken an interest in him - and I know not why."

As suddenly as his speech came, it ended, and Oracle sat in quiet contemplation.

[ludomastro]

Grandpa can't help but shiver a little. I don't care how often I get exposed to magic, that is just creepy.

[dionysus]

Johnsons are not easily shocked; no-one who deals with the shadows is. You get the impression, though, that Oracle has come pretty darn close. There's a momentary pause as the Johnson stares across the table at the adept. After the speech subsides, the temperature seems to drop slightly and the Johnson looks deliberately at the rest of you, one eyebrow raised in a polite, silent question.

The ball, he seems to be saying, is in your court.

[ludomastro]

Shaking off his queasiness, Grandpa asks, "Can you tell us who has this shipment, what security it has and where we can pick up the trail? That should be enough information to get me started on a plan." Better not have him think I want to shoot things up unless I have to. "I have no intention of going in guns blazing but you don't get to be my age without knowing what your opposition could have waiting in the wings. On that note, what level of secrecy do you require? I will assume that you would prefer to not leave bodies lying around."

Grandpa keeps his stance open, his hands down and looks into the J's eyes.

[dionysus]

The atmosphere of tension eases somewhat with the return to business as usual.
Johnson: "First, as for 'picking up the trail,' the lodgings we have secured overlook a valley that seems to be a frequent path for this particular shipment. Our hope is that you'll be able to observe the package crossing through the valley, and take your steps from there. Our efforts to determine the contents of the package have been unsuccessful so far: the containers are warded and the anti-theft devices are...melodramatic."
"Regarding the owners of the shipment, that is precisely what we are hoping *you* can find out for us. So far, we haven't seen evidence," with a glance at Oracle, "of any extant threat: it's information we want, not conflict."
"As for the acceptable level of force - we rely on your complete discretion at all times. I repeat, this contract is for information only. Based on your findings, we might require less subtle operations, but rest assured that we will negotiate appropriate terms should the eventuality arise."

[ludomastro]

Grandpa inclines slightly at the waist in his best imitation of the formal bow he has seen used so many times by so many others. Why a handshake won't suffice is beyond me. "I appreciate your forthrightness. Your trust in our judgment shall be rewarded with utmost discretion." He looks to the rest of the assembled team and asks via his comm, <<Does anyone else have any questions for our guest?>>

[BlackHat]

Once again, the Johnson speaks, and once again, Oracle seems to be looking past him - swept away entirely by another vision. Each one has lasted longer than the one before - and this one longest of all. Looking past Oracle's theatrics, Grandpa and the others attempt to continue business, professionally. A scream cuts through the tense room as Oracle grasps his head and falls to the floor.

The sound of his skull cracking against the sterile surface causes some alarm, but his spasming body assures everyone that Oracle is alive, at least. A moment later, with some help, Oracle makes it to his feet - blood dripping from his mouth and nose. He chooses not to return to his chair. Attention seems to be on him, especially the disapproving stare of the unflappable Johnson. It as if everyone is expecting... something, out of him - but Oracle shows a moments hesitation before speaking.

"I have seen... that we will come to some agreement... the details are no longer of interest to me. On good faith... I will tell you of what I see, now... before it is lost... as it is information you will pay for." Oracle, patted his nose with his hand, and stared at the blood in shock, but continued.

"Bodies. In a metal box. Horrible. Deformed. Sown and Reaped. Burnt." No. The bird. It burned, with them inside. "No! A crash?" With a start, he looks up, casting his luminescent blue irises at the Johnson. "It won't work. Not like they think it will. We will find your information where the disciples lie in the water. But, I see... disappointment. Failure, in your future. I will gladly help. You. Them." His voice trails off as he seems to loose consciousness again for a moment, wobbling upright, before snapping back to reality and standing firm.

He speaks again, with more clarity. There is an urgency in his voice. "It is in your best interest to work with us, Mr. Johnson. As of this moment, we are tools, at your disposal. If anything I have said makes sense to you, let us discuss it before we part paths, as we will not meet again until this mission is over." He pauses for a second. "If not, I am sure everything will become clear to all of us, at that time."

Perhaps in response to the message Grandpa sent some time ago, or perhaps in response to this new vision, but as Johnson takes in what was just said, Oracle messages the team. <<I need to talk to Dionysus. Unless someone wants to renegotiate, let's accept and get out of here.>>

[De Badd Ass]

Ziro debates and decides not to put off the inevitable. He will attend the meeting "in the flesh".

Might as well let the clients look me over. It's not like I'm going to come off worse than they might have heard, and if I don't show up they might wonder and imagine. Won't be the first time!

Ziro decides that a little backup might be in order, and conjures an Air Spirit to place "on standby". He negotiates two services from the spirit, and a black eye as well. Ziro manages to treat the eye - barely manages - with his well used Medkit.

[ Spoiler ]

Magic + Conjuring + Mentor + Focus [5 4 5 4 4 5 4 4 5 5 4 1 4 3] = 5 hits
Spirit Resists [6 6 2 3 6 4] = 3 hits
Willpower + Charisma [3 5 3 5 5 5 6 2 1] = 5 hits
Ziro Conjures Force 6 Air Spirit with 2 services. Takes 1 Point of Physical Damage.
Logic -1 + Medkit [4 4 1 2 5 1 3 3 4] = 1 hit.
Ziro heals 1 point of Physical Damage

Not the smoothest beginning, Ziro thinks as he examines himself in the mirror. Best if I keep my shades on. He puts on his trodes, and kisses his fingertips, before patting his reflection and turning out the lights. As he heads out the door, he makes a mental note to stock up on Medkit supplies.

Once at the meeting, Ziro goes into "Overwatch Mode". He circles the meeting place, assencing everyone and everything. Once inside he parks himself in a corner of the room, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. In addition to his astral watch, he tries to monitor both the live conversation, and the private talk on the agency comm channel. He pays particular note when the Johnson describes the warded cargo containers. He also listens with interest to the discussion concerning renumeration. The Agency came through -- thirty-five kay.

Ziro tries his best to show no outward reaction as the Oracle knocks himself out. Nope, not the smoothest beginning, Ziro thinks once more.

Ziro doubles his attention to the astral goings on, hoping to avoid... just what it is he isn't sure - a faux pas, maybe? However, in response to Grandpa's question, Ziro starts wondering about the split.

Concentrate on keeping watch, fool! Worry about the expense account later.

[ludomastro]

Note to self. Oracle gets a bullet with his name on it. He is going to piss someone off at some point in the future.

Grandpa smiles at his own private thoughts.

[dionysus]

The Johnson stood up when Oracle fell over. He sits back down, carefully smoothing his jacket and moving his stylus from one side of the 'link to the other.
"I feel that I have taken up too much of your time already," a flicker of a glance at Oracle, "You have much to discuss. Are the terms acceptable?"

[ludomastro]

"With the understanding that we may need to negotiate further once we have acquired the information in question, yes, I believe we are." Grandpa thought, I normally can't get them to shut up, now they all act like the cat's got their tongue. Ah well. We'll know soon enough.

He bows again.

[DireRadiant]

Cinzia had kept quiet behind her shades, idly and rhythmically swinging her left leg as it lay across her right as she lounged in the too small for her ork frame chair. Alternating her stare from behind her glasses between the two bodyguards in a futile game of stare me down that had been going on, only interrupted by the almost seizure and spastic predictions from the chair beside her. She gave up. She shrugged minutely and eyed the ork across the table.

"Half in advance." with a nod of her head to the side where the earlier pronouncements had come from, "We cannot always depend on him making it through another episode, and he does make mistakes, so we will be conducting our own research, and of course, a trip to the mountains and preparations for unexpected journeys on short notice tend to bump the costs. While I am always prepared to go have adventures alle alpe, not everyone is as prepared."

perhaps I will be able to buy those new aero boots with the smart soles before we go climbing the hills

[De Badd Ass]

<<Cinzia, Please, ask the Johnson if he would like us to employ Bound Spirits on this assignment. Tell him that the use of Bound Spirits is an extra cost option: 8,500 Nuyen each, up front. Tell him that the choice is his, and would be, considering the warded nature of the cargo, a prudent investment.

Alternatively, I suggest that expenses like that be taken off the top, before the split. It would alleviate certain decision making responsibilities. Thing is, I can imagine a scenario where the others might wish to veto certain outlays, especially after having heard the Johnson decline said services.>>

[dionysus]

"Half in advance." with a nod of her head to the side where the earlier pronouncements had come from, "We cannot always depend on him making it through another episode, and he does make mistakes, so we will be conducting our own research, and of course, a trip to the mountains and preparations for unexpected journeys on short notice tend to bump the costs. While I am always prepared to go have adventures alle alpe, not everyone is as prepared."

The Johnson thinks for a moment, looking thoughtfully at Oracle.
"Indeed. However, we have provided many of the necessary preparations: the accommodations are supplied with sufficient food, and we will arrange transportation to the site. Perhaps 10% up front? Or perhaps we could come to an agreement regarding payment in kind? Are there specific, ah, preprations you wish us to provide?"

[DireRadiant]

The ork across from her was an attractive drone. Briefly she contemplated pirouetting on his head as a prelude to a sweeping kick at one of the trolls as a strategy to get them to react, or at least blink, but discarded the thought as impractical. She cocked her head, shifted in the seat, and looked around at the rest of the team inquiringly as she routed all the team's matrix traffic she was receiving in a standard repeater link mode.

<<@team:: Any particular needs besides huge piles of magical gobbledy gook?>>

Private matrix chats reminded Cinzia too much of her old elite prep school.

[dionysus]

The Johnson looks down at his tablet for a moment, then makes a quick gesture in the air over it. Each of your commlinks registers an incoming message; it contains the access ID for an anonymized node and some GPS directions that lead to an out-of-the-way municipal airport in Snohomish.

Johnson "If that's all satisfactory, I'll let you get started. You'll be able to use this node to contact me should anything arise, and to inform me when you have completed your mission. It's there if you need it, but of course the less it is used the safer. Our pilot will pick you up at the indicated location at 700 hours four days from now; I'm sorry that I have to insist upon haste, but we need you to be in place by the time the next package arrives."

There's a click as he snaps his stylus back into its slot and slides the tablet into an attache case. Everything neatly put away, he stands, bodyguards falling into place beside him.

"If there are no further questions, I wish you good luck and look forward to hearing from you as soon as possible."

[BlackHat]

They were not far out of the door before Oracle brought up an AR window, and made a call back to Agency HQ.

"Please put me through to Dionysus," he instructed the operator who handled his call. It wasn't that agency members were not allowed to have one another's contact information - but routing calls through the agency made it more convenient for everyone, and infinitely more secure. It would be clear that this was about business. While he waited for the connection to be established, he paid attention to whatever discussion (or idle chatter) the others were making.

[dionysus]

The agent handling the call says "Excuse me while I locate the party," bows and vanishes. There's a long silence; just as you're wondering if the connection has gone dead the AR window blinks and displays the face of Dionysus, unshaved but otherwise neat and calm. The apartment behind him is deliberately fuzzy, but clearly dark.

The elf cocks an eyebrow once the image resolves. His voice is crisp and clipped, distinctly Speriethiel-accented. "Se'seterin, Oracle. I will not insult your intelligence or prescience by asking if you are aware of the time, but I do hope this will prove to be a fascinating conversation."

[BlackHat]

Oracle had not actually considered the time. It wasn't usually an important detail to him. He nodded, however, and responded. "I apologize for the interruption. The mistake was my fault, as you could not have foreseen that I would call you. I should have, and contacted you, yesterday." He was mostly being facetious - it would have taken convoluted logic and supernatural foresight to have had the idea to check if he would have been consulting with anyone outside of the team on this mission. He made a mental note to try to do so in the future, just to see what comes of it. "I believe the fact that I did not, until just this moment, is strong evidence that my most recent revelations were important, and have changed my path. Yesterday, I did not believe we would be talking, right now. Today, I believe we are." Oracle's nonsensical way of speaking was often confusing - but, at two in the morning, it was even more so.

Fortunately, Dionysus didn't have to think about it long before Oracle went on, making more sense as he did, "I had a series of disturbing, and unusually cloudy visions regarding my most recent mission - and in the last, I clearly saw the goddess Diana, which I understood to be a symbol of protection, but also, itself, having meaning by being interpreted as a Greek goddess - a clue which has lead my analysis here. If I am not mistaken, you are a connoisseur of ancient Greek plays, and I may have overlooked the meaning of some of the other images, if I didn't understand them in the context of Greek mythology - which I know little or nothing about."

"I do not believe that this is a particularly urgent matter, however. When we meet to discuss this, is less important than the fact that we meet and do so. I believe that once such a plan is set into motion, the most important details will become accessible to me." He stopped, and was reminded once more about the Trapped, and the dangers of relying on such dangerous recursive logic to control his actions. He was fascinated by deterministic philosophy, but had seen with his own eyes that it could lead one to complete apathy. He had been having a harder time coming out of Trance, the more he considered this mission, and preferred not to have to rely on it again, so soon. His nose still hurt. "I have found, however, that the outcome of meetings are much clearer in retrospect than in prospect, so, I am eager to move this event to the other side of my temporal horizon prior to the point where I apply my understanding of what I saw. Perhaps, if you are free later today...?"

[dionysus]

The elf ponders for a moment. "I would be the last to deny the value of your visions, I am glad to help you. It would perhaps be more productive for both of us if we were to meet later today, when the sun has risen. Seward Park is a favorite haunt of mine, could your team, for I assume this is business, spare you for an hour around noon? I will do some research on your moon goddess in the meantime."

[OOC: more coming later, when I have a chance]

[dionysus]

Hours later, you're walking along a well-kept lawn overlooking Lake Washington, the beautiful landscaping of Council Island in the background. As you walk, leaving the hum of the sprawl behind, you explain pieces of your visions. Dionysus is silent, nodding from time to time. When you finish, the two of you walk on in silence for a while. After some time, Dionysus stops by a molding statue; with a shock you realize its the figure from your vision, covered in leaves and vegetation. It's a tall, beautiful human woman, stabbing a serpent to death with a broken arrow, her bow lies behind her in pieces. Her quiver is torn open, spilling arrows onto the ground, her flesh is torn and bleeding in several places.

"This is your goddess," Dionysus says, "The only statue of Diana in the city that I know of. It was made years ago to honor the fallen in the battle with the insect spirits in Chicago.

"Diana is not a goddess of the Greeks, but of the Romans. The Greek equivalent is Artemis; you may know her better. The idea of her as a protective figure is interesting: she is primarily a goddess of the hunt, strong, athletic, very beautiful, chaste, and short-tempered. Certainly a valuable ally, but not usually thought of as actively protective.

"Modern cultists sometimes associate her with the Wild Hunt, an army of gods or goddesses or the dead who forever hunt across the sky. Who exactly makes up the Hunt, and indeed what precisely they are hunting, depends on who you ask. Most often, though, it's evil spirits or demons, thus this statue," he carefully picks a dead leaf out of the fanged maw of the serpent.

"It is difficult to be more specific; she is something of a vague figure, and the images from your vision are not clear to me. If she represents a person, that person may be powerful, or they may simply be headstrong and quick to anger. It could mean that those you hunt, or those that hunt you, fear moonlight." Dionysus smiles slightly and turns towards you, "It may be that I have finally outdone you in confusing talk, Delphi."

[BlackHat]

While on the phone with Dionysus, Oracle smiled, and answered his question with "I do not foresee a conflict."



Sure enough, a few hours later, he was able to make the meet, and seemed to rather enjoy the quiet walk outside. His lack of knowledge and misunderstanding of his visions was evident, but Oracle didn't see embarrassed or even surprised. He simply stated what he saw, and soaked up everything Dionysus had to say like a sponge. The conversation was eerily one-sided, once Oracle laid our the fantastic vision - at that point, he was simply interested in hearing how Dionysus would interpret it.

As they came to stop at the statue, Oracle considered what was said about the goddess. "I did warn you that my knowledge of this subject was embarrassingly nonexistent." He turn his luminescent blue eyes to Dionysus, "I would expect the symbolism to be more subjective, than not - but what you have said helps frame my perspective. Protection was the theme, even if uncharacteristic for Diana. She was not offering her protection, but that of the moon - a symbol for which, she fits, and on whose behalf, she can speak. Speech was important, as I needed to ask for assistance, to receive it. I misclassified her origin, but doing so led me to think of you. It was you, who I asked for help, which lead me here, and to this." He looked once again at the statue - very similar to the image in his vision. Although he had never been here before, he had seen it before. He had seen what he would see - what he was seeing, now. He experienced the pleasant feeling he associated with something coming full-circle - the way he felt when he observed one of his predictions come true. "This was the image I saw. I believe I am on the right track."

He reached out one pale hand, and placed it upon the statue, closing his eyes. A few moments of silenced past, where he shuddered as if chilled to the bone by the psychic impressions he was picking up. The majority of strong emotions tied to this memorial were unpleasant ones. When he released his grasp, and opened his eyes, he seemed saddened - all evidence of the pleasant feeling he had had just before, was now gone.

"I believe this meeting was very important. I think I will stay here for a while, and see if anything else comes to me. " He moved closer to the statue. "Is there anything I can offer you, before our paths separate again?"