IC: The Fix is In, SR4 game IC thread Options

[Oracle]

BBO takes a deep drag from his cigarette and nods slowly. "Me too."

[HeySparky]

"So," Fade looks at the few straggling cigarettes in 'Bird's pack and refrains from asking for another. She shifts her eyes to the disappointingly normal looking Johnson, "How much is our per diem?"

[nick012000]

"So," Razorblade says, leaning forward, "how about some more pay?"

[TinkerGnome]

After a few minutes of discussion with Razorblade, the Johnson finally conceeds to 3k up front and an additional 12k on completion. "So, you in or out now? And any more questions?"

[Silo]

"Still in."

[HeySparky]

Fade follows Razorblade's negotiations with interest. Two-fifty cred more a day...? And 2k on top of that. Frag. Just frag.She looks over the Johnson, trying to gauge if the negotiations have soured him any. His face was inscrutable, maybe a bit impatient to get the proceedings done with.

She nods, "Okay. Give us everything you have on this guy."

After any briefing on their target, Fade is itching to go. There's a bet she'd really like to place. A sure thing.

And a growling stomach to feed. She hadn't eaten all day.

[nick012000]

"Yes, that is fine."

[Oracle]

Possibly Popov would be glad to get a small hint on all this... A brief smile finds its way on BBO's face.

[gobogen]

"Yes, that's fine."

[Oracle]

"Well, I already told you that I'm in. Could you supply us with some additional information on our target? A schedule for the team? Personal relationships? Religious believes? Unusual interests? Some gossip about him? Any weaknesses we could use?"

BBO takes another sip from his beer and waits for an answer.

[TinkerGnome]

The Johnson pulls a data chip from inside his suit and places it on the table. "This is the info we have on him, there's not too much besides a physical profile. The rest you can find on the Matrix easily enough. There's also a schedule for the team for the rest of the week and the three hotels where they are staying. If you have any questions you think I can answer, there's a commcode on the chip that goes to a blind drop. Leave your question there and I'll make contact with you."

When there are no more questions, he unkeys the privacy features of the booth and takes his leave after adding one last warning. "Oh, and one little piece of advice. I don't think it'd be in your best interests to go placing bets on this game. There are certain folks who are going to be upset about things like that in the near future, and you probably don't want them upset at you."

[Silo]

Freebird eyes the chip on the table and dismisses it.

He grabs his pack of smokes and puts them away in his jacket pocket leaving his hand in with it.

“My name’s Freebird. Where to now?”

He looks around the table at each of the other runners trying to surmise which one is going to take the lead.

[HeySparky]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070

The Sports Bar, 21:14:44

The Johnson switches off his gear and Fade feels a welling of relief as the AR environs bleed back into existence. She relaxes as the everpresent and oddly comforting cascade of information resumes - the timer on her locker - the weather ticker - the camera on the curb outside.

She opens a new display for her bank account. Her sadly, pathetically, hopelessly empty bank account.

Fade eyes the lousy little chip. She detaches her commlink from behind a curving horn and puts the chip in a small compartment. Her huge dark hands are calloused and rough, not at all cut out for handling delicate electronics. In a blink the chip is gone and the commlink as well.

"Fade," she says. She bunches her shoulders, tensing them and rolling them back. Loosening up. She looks around the table at the crew, sizing them up. The late-comer is another troll. Two orks, an elf and a human. She takes a deep breath and - in - tries to imagine them all as extensions of one another - out - of herself. In - they are a single mind - out - a single body.

Who am I kidding? A couple of tuskers, a breeder and an 'eater. A mismatched fragging mess. What a picnic. She grits her teeth. Damn, I'm hungry. She looks around the table. We gotta get together. Sort out the pecking order.

"Alright... we should put our heads together," she looks around the table, hoping someone has a place to offer, she certainly doesn't, unless the heating grate at Columbia and 9th counted. "I'm gonna try to line us up a place. Unless someone has a place in mind?" She raises her eyebrows and looks around.

With a flick of thought, she sends an encrypted, secured message to Chok at a pre-arranged address. <<Thanks for the hook up. I need a place for me and 5 of my friends to crash for a week or so. Pronto. Message me with the details.>> She adds a flag to the message that signals some urgency that will, she hopes, cut through some of Chok's filtering.

[Silo]

Freebird stands up from the table, looks at Fade, "Contact me. I got something to do."

He nods to the other assembled runners and leaves the bar.

[Oracle]

BBO seems to be absent minded for a second. After that brief period the whole team gets a subscription request from what is, according to the sent signature, his commlink.

[HeySparky]

Fade's commlink was waiting for the request and automatically accepts the incoming commcode from BBO, offering hers in return. Her commlink flickers through a flurry of commcode requests and acquisitions.

[Silo]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070

Freebird’s Apartment, 21:54:20

After leaving THE Sports Bar, Freebird grabbed a train back to his pad. He figured that getting his stuff in order while the others settled on a place to do some planning would speed things up. He picked out a black bag from his storage bin and began loading it up with whatever gear he thought he might need: shotgun, change of clothes, sub machine gun, toiletries, extra clips, tranq and trauma patches, a couple of snacks from the kitchen, boxes of ammo for his selection of guns, his chameleon suit…the usual fare really.

He threw his armored jacket on top and changed in to his old Actioneer suit. It was a classic style, so it still fit in even though it wasn’t the latest cut, and it provided ample room for his gun arm slides, which he put his Manhunters in to.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he smiled, Feels good to be prepping for a job, better than I thought it would. He adjusts his tie and picked up his bag and his lined coat as he walks out the door. Once down in the foyer, he pauses. Where to now?, he thought.

He pulled up his HUD and sent a one word message for that troll, Fade: <<Location?>>.

He sent another to Chok: <<Thanks.>>.

He walked out in to the drizzle and hailed a cab.

[gobogen]

The Priest introduces himself quickly and agrees that the team needs a place of their own to crash for the week. "I'll also see what I can do about a safe house of some kind for the team." She goes on to exchange commlink permissions with the rest of the team.

"Let's meet later tonight in what will be the most secure place we could find. We should then choose leadership, determine the team's capabilities and start to elaborate plans of action. We can keep in touch by comm."

Since there isn't much more to do for now, the Priest leaves The Sports BAR and walks back to his apartment.

This job is going to be a piece of soycake.

[HeySparky]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070

THE Sports Bar, Seattle, 21:16:12
Fade nods as the commcodes come in. She touches a hand to her brow, sketching a mock salute, "Later 'Bird. I'll call you."

She watches his back as he edges through the crowd. Never one for niceties. She looks over the remainder at the table and reconsiders. Me neither. She stands, pushing her chair back in one motion.

"Let me know if you turn anything up..." Fade says, addressing the human, "Priest." She squints at him, eyes peering at his neck. What? He'd wear a collar? She shakes her head and nods at BBO and Razorblade, "Good to meet all you."

She shoulders her way through the bar and squeezes past the toughs that had been eyeing her earlier. She climbs the stairs and makes her way out onto the sleet. An AR notification chimes as the money comes through and she feels a weight lift from her shoulders. She checks the timer on the U-Lock-It and considers getting a bus. What the hell?

U-Lock-It , Seattle, 21:44:20
After picking up her gear she heads out onto the street, hitching the bulky pack up onto her shoulders. She grabs a bite to eat at a by-the-slice pizza join with a decent take on soy cheese. She wipes her mouth, savoring the hot food and looks up. Fade's mouth goes dry.

Across the street there's a bar. Just a drink. One to settle my nerves. She stands there, sleet ticking all around her. She grits her teeth. A bus pulls up, blocking her view of the place. The doors open and a few passengers step off, jostling past her. She blinks and without thinking steps onto the bus. The transit company debits her account.

Wage slaves and poor folk edge away from her as she makes her way to the back. She stands as the bus makes its way across town. She gets a message from Freebird. << No location yet. Will keep you posted. >> She looks out the window and watches the gray city go by.

AR Meeting, Seattle, 22:16:55
After Chok comes through Fade opens an AR channel with the team. << I have a line on a place. :nuyen: 1,000. I'm going to take it unless someone has something better. >>

After a brief discussion they agree to take the place. Fade wires Chok the payment and a message. << We'll take it. Now what? >> When she has her instructions she wires the address to the others and gets a bus to Everett.

Somewhere north and west of the city center, Everett, 22:48:43
She walks up the street, noting the location of stuffer shacks and other conveniences, the routes of surveillance drones. She grabs a couple of packs of cigarettes for Freebird, and some munchies.

She stops at the flophouse and steps into the alley. Man, a thousand cred doesn't go very far. She chuckles at herself and skips down the steps, uses the passcode to unlock the door and goes inside. It's musty inside. An apartment. Her heart flutters. The place is hers for a week. If nothing else came of the job, there was at least this. Even if she had to share it. She locks the door behind herself and flips on the light looking around, wondering if she's the first to arrive or not.

That sneaky elf could be right in front of me. A stab of paranoia flickers and she switches off the dampers on her reflexes. Everyone always said running wired was like the world going into slow motion all of a sudden. Fade never thought that. Her mind never felt accelerated, more like her like her body caught up to it, responding to the slightest thought. She switched off the light, eyes glimmering in the dim light, cyber compensating for the dim. She pokes her head through the various doors, into closets and finally the bathroom. Hmmm... seems clear. Guess I'll go over this chip.

She unfolds herself onto the couch dumping the chips contents onto her image link and opening her Everett mapsoft. Now... Where are we...? She smiled to herself, it was just like studying up for a game. Only illegal.

[nick012000]

Razorblade sends her commcode to the rest of the team, and popping on her AR display, she reviews the odds on the team, and makes a 1000 :nuyen: bet on the Seattle team. She'll then take the drink she ordered earlier, and informs the bar staff that she'll be going VR for the next few minutes, and for them to not evict her in the meantime.

She then spends the next several minutes searching the Matrix in HotSim VR for information on the player they're after; marital status, contracts; poor personal habits (drugs, BTLs, anything tied into organised crime)... basically, anything that she could possibly contort into blackmail material.

She'll then go and start partying a bit, buying some more drinks (and some water along with it to minimize a hangover), and going for the most attractive person in the bar to seduce until she gets a message from Fade, at which point she'll get his or her commcode before staggering down to a bus, and catching a ride to the safehouse.

[Silo]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070

In a cab, Seattle, 22:22:01

The AR meeting was quick and Freebird only spoke once during the conversation with his agreement on the place. He received the address from Fade and quickly accessed a cached satellite image of the place. The front entrance, alleyway, surrounding flats, and a couple of store fronts were all noted and filed away. He saved the image for speeder access later, embedding a couple of points of interest on it as he did.

Freebird knuckled the glass separating the cabbie from him. The static from the speaker indicated the cabbie was listening. Freebird gave an intersection near the safe house.

He leaned back in his seat and started running background searches on the runners he had met tonight.

Somewhere north and west of the city center, Everett, 22:53:25

The cab pulled the fare from Freebird’s account and he quickly moved out of the light from the streetlamp and in to the shadows. He moved briskly to the alleyway and began making his way down to the safe house, keeping an eye out for anything out of place. Whatever he sees, he notes, and continues on as if he saw nothing.

At the safe house, he walks right up to the door and knocks twice.

[HeySparky]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070

Safehouse, Everett, 22:53:25

Fade has all of five minutes to herself before a knock comes at the door. She's on her feet in an instant, reflex wires humming. She pulls the shotgun from her pack, cracking it and thumbing in shells.

She pings the PAN standing outside the door and when it bounces back as Freebird she relaxes. She leans the shotgun in a corner and tells the door to open. She watches as light slants into the darkness from outside, hand on the shotgun barrel, waiting for the shadow to resolve itself into friend or foe.

[Silo]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070

Safehouse, Everett, 22:53:34

Freebird steps into the safehouse, pushing the door closed with his bag. "Fade," he says. As he looks around the room he takes a few more steps in.

"Alone?," he seemingly asks.

Without waiting for a reply he moves over to the chair facing the door and sets down his bag on the floor. He tosses his coat on top of it,pulls out a cigarette from his pack and lights up.

"Nice place." He pauses briefly for a drag before continuing, "Data?"

[nick012000]

Wednesday, January 22 2070
Bus, Everett, 22:51:23

Razorblade sits on the bus, summoning up the windows of her AR system, and sends Datastream a message.

Hey, could you find me info on [whatever the player's brother's name is]? He seems to have dropped off of the map after '64. Might have lost his identity after the Crash, I dunno. There will be cred in it for you. Here's what I've found so far.

Attached to the text is a datafile containing all of the information she found on him so far.

Safehouse, Everett, 22:53:36
A few seconds after Freebird starts talking to Fade, Razorblade will stagger up to the door from the bus stop, and knocks on the door.

"Hello... anybody home?"

[Oracle]

Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 22:45:16
THE Sports Bar, Seattle

After spending one and a half hour with another 4 glasses of beer BBO decides to pay his appartment a visit to get some stuff. He pays his drinks and leaves.


Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 23:48:05
BBO's apartment, worst area of Tacoma, Seattle

BBO grabs the large traveling bag with his basic equipment from its hiding place in the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment and then reaches for a large bottle of whisky and adds it to the content of his bag. With a sad smile BBO activates his comlink and calls a cab to a location a block away. From under his bed he fetches a very long package wrapped in coloured paper, looking like a gift. I definitely need one of those Ranger Arms Rifles...I hate looking like the ugly brother of Santa Clause while carrying that thing around...

Not five minutes after arriving the huge orc slams the door shut behind himself and leaves again...