Up from the Bottom, Wipe Those Tears and Pass the Ammo Options

[adamu]

Seattle Street
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:27:21

Rocky had hunkered down in a doorway partially screened by a parked truck, watching the suspicious vehicle. After about two minutes, however, it's engine started and it drove away.

[adamu]

Divine Rest
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:30:00

Despite her best efforts to stay awake, Caittie had just fallen asleep when something tickled her consciousness, prompting her to shift her perception to VR. There, standing outside one of the burned houses, was the blond girl in the white tunic.
"I have gathered what data there is on all publicly accessible sources, although I fear this Louie fellow is adept at keeping a relatively low profile. Where would you like this wisdom reposited?"

Caittie held out a scroll - the avatar for her commlink - and said, "Place everything here, but fill me in on the most important things now."

"Very well. He has a SIN, but it is very confusing - the attached data appears to be a mixture of fact and fiction. It seems that much of the biometric data is falsified. He is under intense law enforcement scrutiny from certain quarters, so maybe certain government agencies have more accurate information, but if so, they are not sharing. Most of his birth information, however, I have confirmed through various shadowy sources," the sprite said with a wink. Continuing, "He was born 10 October 2015 here in Seattle. His father, deceased, was Thomas Finnegan, son of Rory and Mary Finnegan. Mary survives and wields considerable influence still in the Finnegan crime family. The subject's mother is Sophia Ciarniello, living, the sister of Vince "Numbers" Ciarniello, head of the Ciarniello crime family.
"Although the subject is considered a nominal member of the Finnegan family, he maintains close ties with the Ciarniellos as well. These family ties make him nearly untouchable as far as Mafia politics go.
"In addition, he seems to have inherited the Ciarniellos' touch with figures - he is considered a genius at calculating gambling odds. Since the Ciarniello family has a near monopoly on this sort of talent, Capa Rowena O'Malley holds onto him fiercely, apparently considering him a balance in the power struggle between the three families. Besides which, his numbers activities are one of the Finnegan family's most profitable ventures.
"It seems, however, that Louie is dissatisfied with his already grand status among the families. He pins his self-respect on being a "real wiseguy," as opposed to a pencil-pusher for the families. As such, he runs his own large crew out of a pasta place called Rudolpho's. They have taken it upon themselves to expand the Finnegan family's territory, and although they have been marginally successful, they are costing the family in terms of enemies made. But because of his close ties to key members of two of the three families, and his money-making prowess, no one has dared do more than gently hint that he is only making trouble, and those hints have apparently fallen on deaf ears.
"The new DA, Myers Rothstein, seems to think the subject's combination of recklessness and personal violence make him a perfect target for prosecution, from which point Rothstein probably hopes to move on to other key family members - few that are speaking doubt the subject could be turned, which would be disastrous to the Seattle families.
"So when some children recently witnessed a murder in which the subject was involved, it is rumored that Capa O'Malley herself ordered that they and their families be killed in order to silence them, and since Rothstein has yet to build a base of loyal officers, it was easy for the mob to suborn the police and target the supposedly 'protected subjects.'"

The girl in the white tunic went on, but Caittie her nothing after that - the sprite's cold assessment of her personal tragedy were enough to bring her to tears once again. She dismissed the creature of the matrix before it had even finished its report, knowing all the data was in her commlink anyway.

[Abbandon]

Cerbers's Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:28:39
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN - passive

With his enhanced hearing Cerberus was easily able to tell that the 3 mafia guys had stopped right outside his door and then came the sound of one of them apparently breaking into the lock on his door. A second later and the doorknob slowly began to turn. Good the dumb shits are gonna try to sneak up on me, well the jokes on you mother #^$&&#%^

The door swung open and Cerberus silently cursed as the light from the hallway began to interfere with his thermal vision. The redish orange blobs that represented the gangsters grew a bit thicker. Without any effort at all the reddish orange blobs were replaced with a greenish vision of things. Low light vision made everything appear green with more lit up object appearing almost white and darker objects dark green. As soon as the last guy was in the doorway Cerberus sent the command to begin firing through his body and to his gun which instantly began chewing up the first target.

The barrel of his IWK started spitting fire out the end of the barrel and 3 bullets tore into the lead man with the last one catching him in the head. Cerberus couldnt see the color of it but blood and bits of brain from the first man splattered all over the second guy who was standing nearby and he froze. The first target fell backwards and out of the way hitting the ground with a thud. Changing targets Cerberus quickly tried to mow down the second guy but without his gyroharness on he had swung the gun a little to far and completely missed. The bullets buried themselves into the wall of his apartment behind the men.

Correcting his aim and waiting until the crosshairs were directly over the center of the second man he fired again keeping the gun as steady as possable to make the shots all land on target. The goons were still looking at the corpse of the first guy when Cerberus's IWK spit fire again this time catching the second guy in the stomach with all three shots. The guy stumbled backwards and then just fell over moaning in pain and then going silent as a pool of blood quickly began to form under him.

By now the third man had come to his senses and was raising his shotgun to try and do what he had come here to do. He was to slow though as 3 bullets dug into his leg and exploded out the other side along with blood and bits of bone. The man collapsed but he wasnt out. Lifting his upper body as much as he could he used both arms to steady the shotgun in Cerberus's direction but 3 more bullets created a good size hole in the man's chest and he went limp.

All of this had taken place within seconds and as Cerberus began to move towards the windows that faced the buildings across the way the wall he was moving along burst into splinters and the sound of semi automatic gunfire could be heard. Before he knew what had happened he felt like he had been punched and was sent sprawling to the ground where he banged up his arm trying to catch himself.

With his eyes closed and laying there on the ground he instinctively felt around for damage and discovered his new jacket had stopped a slug from entering his body. Taking a moment to shake out the pain in his arm he grabbed his gun and quickly began planning out his next step. if i can make it to the bedroom i can use the doorway for cover otherwise they will probably frag me if i try to go for the front door.. god i hope they dont have any more guys out there.. Cerberus took a deep breathe and was ready to set his plan in moition.....

[JDragon]

Seattle Street (Near Rocky's Doss)
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:31:45
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky watched the car pull away and then waited another couple minutes to make sure there wasn't any sign of anyone else waiting. IF that was Louie's guys, there is now way they would give up this easy. But I can't stand here all night, it will be getting light soon. With that thought Rocky took one last quick look around and slipped out of his hiding place moving along the building toward his.

After about 15 meters ran into problems, spending more time on watching for people looking for him than watching his step he wandered in to a pile of garbage cans. The initial noise of kicking them was enough to scare him, but the cramp that came along with that sudden adrenalin rush that sent him to the ground, going through the cans. He was now sure he was not sneaking anywhere. Once the noise of the cans stopped and the cats he had apparently interrupted stopped, Rocky just lay there for a minute listening for any sounds. Not hearing anything he slowly got up and cleaned himself off a little and proceeded to walk along the sidewalk the rest of the way to his building. Which allowed him to focus on watching for people instead of worrying about where he was walking.

Rocky's Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:33:26

Walking up the stairs in front of the building Rocky took one last quick look around before going inside and heading up to his apartment. The trip up was quite and no one seemed to be moving in the halls. He checked the door for apparent signs of tamper then keyed the lock and slipped inside.

Relying on his natural vision and the fact he had not had time to furnish the place, he quickly moved to the bedroom. opening the closet he fished out his "Gold's Gym" duffle bag as it appeared he was on the run again. He quickly gathered the few things he counted as his personal items and loaded them in to the bag, making sure to get all his "working" gear, extra ammo as well as his lined coat and 2 changes of clothes. At least I'll have more on my back this time than I did 3 weeks ago.

Looking down at the puddle forming around his feet from the water being expelled by his suit, he considered changing, but something inside told him it was time to go. He stuffed everything in the bag and threw it back over his shoulder and headed for the door, still navigating by memory in the dark.

[adamu]

Rocky's Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:34:00

Hefting his bag, Rocky listened carefully at the door. Hearing nothing, he moved cautiously into the hall, scanning for danger. It looked like the coast was clear, although his vision was getting more and more blurry from the withdrawal. He moved toward the stairs.
Turning the corner onto the landing, he suddenly found himself staring into the giant barrel of a Remington roomsweeper, held towards his face at arm's length by a pug-nosed man with a crewcut he recognized from the crowd at Rudolpho's. Then, behing him, he heard the click of a pistol being cocked, just a few centimeters from the back of his head.
"We circled around, ya stupid mouth-breather," said pug-nose. "And now, youse gonna take a little ride with us - I think somebody wants to talk to ya before they kill ya."

[Abbandon]

Cerbers's Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:29:39
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN - passive

Sitting up Cerberus rolled over onto his hands and knees and ran for his bedroom. No shots had followed him so he was happy. Now he just had to peek out from around the doorway and try to identify his the two bastards who were shooting at him...THUNK. Cerberus grimaced and cluthed his leg as a bullet sunk into hs flesh and hit the bone lacing. Falling further out of the doorway another bullet slammed into his shoulder knocking him off balance. As he fell he tried to return fire but he couldnt tell if he had hit anything.

Hitting the ground with a thud his eyes were in line with the floor and he could see one of the guys he had shot trying to enter his room staring back at him. It was the second guy who had been gutted. His eyes were open and staring right at Cerberus but he was dead. Hell if thats gonna be me

Filled with adrenaline Cerberus made sure he had hold of his gun and then rolled along the floor until he was back in his bedroom and out of sight. With alot of effort he was able to stand and he managed to move further away from the gunmen and get to the far wall of his bedroom before he stumbled and collapsed again.

Bullets tore up the doorway and the wall around it as the gunmen tried to finish him off but he was obviously out of view now. Realizing he was to banged up to continue this fight he decided it was time to run. Screw his belongings. Sitting up he leveled the IWK at the wall and began blasting away. The wall exploded in dust and wood splinters as he moved the gun as it spit out bullets. When he heard the click he knew he was done. His gun had been emptied. He pushed the off of him and moved to the wall.

Knocking the remaining drywall out of his way he crawled out of the hole and fell to the floor in the hallway. Taking a breathe or two he built up the enrgy to stand and then began stumbling down the hallway to the stairs. Blood was already streaming down his arm and off his hand onto the floor. It was bad and tunnel vision had already set in but he still had some time.

After reaching the lobby he placed a call for a taxi to meet him outside the apartment building and after that call was finished he placed another one to Kyle but onlt got his voice mail. "Kyle im pretty beat up, I need the address of that doc. If you know how to contact him that would be great to. Just send me the information asap, i dont want you getting involedin this shit.."

Cerberus closed the commcall and then stumbled over to the lobby doors to watch for the taxi or any more goons. I hope those two guys across the way dont figure out what those muzzle flashes were... Cerberus took his jacket off and then used one of the throwing knives he had stashed up his sleeves to cut off his t-shirt. He wrapped the t-shirt around his leg right below the crotch to try and control some of the blood loss. Tighting it sent a jolt of pain through his body but he tied it off and then put his jacket back on. He could barely raise his arm that got shot so he let it drop down into the sleeve of the jacket before putting in his good arm.

[adamu]

Outside Cerberus' (former) Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:10:41

Cerberus heard a car appoaching.

***********

After messaging his friend Kyle and calling a cab, he'd limped painfully into an alley to wait for his ride. The sounds of steady gunfire continued for several minutes. He'd known that soon they'd move to confirm the kill, and when he wasn't there, they'd be out looking for him, and that the blood trail wouldn't be too hard to follow.

With no way of knowing how long the cab would take, and not sure it would even come after the reports of a major firefight in the neighborhood, he had been getting ready to move farther from his current position when his comm had buzzed. It was Kyle: "Heya buddy, like it or not, I AM involved. You are my brother, man. Now tell me where you are exactly - I am about 30 minutes from Touristville."
Cerberus had named an alley he knew about five blocks away, then told Kyle that for safety's sake he was shutting down his comm.
Then he'd begun the long, excruciating five-block journey on his shot leg.

************

Now, as the car turned into the alley, he saw it was Kyle's ride. A wave of relief swept over him.

[JDragon]

Outside Rocky's Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:34:05
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky swears to him self, as he slowly raises his hands above his head. He nods in feigned defeat waiting for the next direction.

He feels the muzzle of a gun push in to the back of his head as the guy behind him starts talking, "Ok, real slow like pull that hand cannon you got. Real slow like and just using two fingers. I think you breath wrong and I'll add a hole to the back of your head!"

Rocky follows the instructions to the letter moving as slow as his naturally enhanced reflexes will let him. Even though it only took a few seconds it seemed like days to Rocky. Holding the gun out in front of him, the shotgun-wielding mobster rests his shotgun on Rocky's chest as he uses the other hand to reach out and take the gun, shoving it in to his suit pocket.

"Ok let’s go, real easy and slow like." Directs the mobster from behind. The group slowly starts making its way down the stairs, the pug-nosed guy in front, looking back every second or so but having to watch where he was going too. The pug-nosed mobster went first, with Rocky next, and the unseen mobster behind him. As they go Rocky thinks to him self and looks for a way to get the upper hand on the two goons. As the past the first landing on the way down Rocky sees his one chance, if he can time it right.

At the next landing as he turns to start the next set of stairs Rocky makes his move. Hoping to get the pug-nose guy out of the way he swings hard and fast at his head, hoping to catch him completely unaware, but some how he caught the movement and started to turn, starting to bring the shotgun up. Before he gets turned around far enough Rocky's massive fist impacts the side of his skull, spinning the mobster around on the stairs and then crashing down the stairs with enough noise to wake the whole building.

Not waiting to see how he faired from the fall Rocky swings around to deal with the more dangerous foe. The second mobster was swinging around the corner with his pistol up as he came in toRocky's view, firing a shot as soon as he saw Rocky. Luckily for Rocky the shot went wide, but the mobster kept his gun moving and quickly fired a second shot catching Rocky in the left shoulder, knocking him back just enough to give the mobster enough space to dodge the blow.

But the monsters luck ran out there as Rocky's improved reflexes allowed him to take another swing, which connected solidly and sent the mobster into and over the railing. Less than a second later Rocky heard the sickening thud as the mobster hit the hard floor at the bottom of the stairs.

It took a few seconds for Rocky to collect himself, the pain of the gunshot bringing him back to the present. He quickly grabbed his duffle bag and made his way down the stairs. As he got to the bottom of the flight he had been on he found the pug-nosed mobster lying in a pile against the wall with his head at a very odd angle. Rocky quickly scooped up his pistol slipping it back in to its holster and then grabbed the shotgun laying next to the mobster.

Continuing down the stairs Rocky kept the shotgun up and ready to fire if any other mobsters appeared to block his path. As he suspected he found the second mobster in the entryway with a pool of blood already starting to form around his head from the large crack in his skull. Rocky didn't stop to check on the man and kept moving for the front doors.

As he stepped outside he scanned the street for signs of any more of Louie's men. Not seeing anyone else he slipped the shotgun in to his duffle bag and started down the street. Moving quickly and doing his best to stay aware of his surroundings.


Tuesday 8/19/70 04:39:19

After walking at a brisk pace for five or six blocks Rocky started to slow down as the pain of the bullet came back to haunt him. He stopped for a moment trying to control his breathing and over come the pain. Almost by reflex his hand went to the pill bottle in his jacket pocket. Rocky stood there in the shadows of some building fighting off the pain and the power of the painkillers sitting in his hand. It was a long hard fight but once again Rocky stood strong and dropped the bottle back in to his pocket, then reached for his comm.

He pulled up the number Cerberus had given him and sent him a quick message. <<Chummer watch your back, Louie's guys were waiting for me at my place. Keep your eyes open.>>

Rocky then made a call for a cab to pick him a few blocks down the street. Once the ride had been confirmed he slipped the comm back on his belt and started walking, arriving at the address he had given before the cab Rocky took a couple minutes to pull a t-shirt from his bag.

He slowly removed his suit jacket and tied the makeshift bandage around his shoulder as best he could and then slipped the suit jacket back on. [I]I hope I can find someone that knows a street doc, I gotta get this bullet out before it starts causing more problems.

Tuesday 8/19/70 04:47:37

When the cab arrived the cabbie gave Rocky a quick glance, "Rough night chummer? Where too?" Rocky gave him an address he had pulled up for another coffin motel while he had been waiting for him to show up. "Got it chummer, that take about 20 minutes."

Rocky laid his head back and took a deep breath, and waited for the night to be over.

[Abbandon]

Cerbers's Doss
Tuesday 8/19/70 06:00:00
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN - off

Cerberus pushed off the wall he had been using to help support him leaving a bloody smear and staggered over to Kyle's car. Opening the door he leaned over to ask for permission to enter, "Im kinda bleeding heavily are you sure you want me messing up your car bro??". Kyle saw the shape Cerberus was in and had nothing but concern written across his face, "What are you, a chiphead?? Get your ass in the car."

Cerberus shut the door to the front passenger side and opened the passenger side rear door climbing. After climbing in he just laid there to exausted to do anything else.

Kyle hit the button on his door panel to shut the rear passenger door and then put the car in gear and sped off for the same street doc that had reconstructed Cerberus the first time. Taking quick glances back at Cerberus in between taking corners he saw him begin to pass out. "Hey Cerberus you got to stay awake man. Tell me what the hell happened to you!"

"Ughh wha?....Oh... well...that guy Ezekiel set me up with is some cold blooded mafia guy who is a bit crazy and he told me and this other guy to go kill this mage that had fragged one of his goons? We found a teenage elf girl instead who is some kinda hacker. Well we didnt feel right killing her so we ran. Now this crazy asshole is after us and I was ambushed at my apartment while i was trying to grab my stuff. Now I've lost almost everything i own except the clothes on my back and the pitiful amount of money I have left in my account which will probably not even be enough to pay for the doc to fix me. And now im shot and i think im gonna goto sleep now..........."

Kyle checked his pulse and felt that it was strong so he let the big guy sleep. After a quick ride across town they were at the street doc's again. How many times am I gonna have to do this shit? Heh poor kid cant catch a break to save his life, unlucky bastard.

Kyle parked the car and went inside the clinic. A few seconds later he reappreared followed by a nurse and two men with a gourny. The two men and Kyle struggled to heft Cerberus bulky ass onto the gourny and then they disappeared back inside the clinic as the nurse was checking his vitals.

"Well apparently he was shot but i dont know how many times or by what Doc." After the nurse removed his jacket and pants the doctor began looking him over for entry and exit wounds. "Isnt this the same guy you brought in last time?? What the hell happened this time, its not as severe as last time but cant he stay out of trouble? No nevermind I dont wanna know. He is lucky he had that bone lacing put in it looks it prevented the one in his leg from being much worse than what it is. It also looks like he was only hit in two places. Why dont you go and relax in the waiting room and I will come talk to you afterwards."

Kyle nodded and then walked out of the "operating room". Maybe I shouldnt have brought him into the shadows, it doesnt look like he is any good at it. he is going to end up getting himself killed. I mean holy shit, he is already messed up with the mafia? I got no idea how to help him get out of that jam. Just get through this you big oaf and we will worry about the rest later.

Kyle wasn't a religious guy but he said a little prayer anyways to ask that everything went ok and no major damage happened. Plopping down on a chair he waited and thought about how to help his friend.

[Konsaki]

Divine Rest
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:34:12
Caittie - Technomancer - Hidden
PAN - Passive

The young woman was an emotional wreck, collapsed to the ground in the burned out wreckage of the town that represented herself, weeping and crying into the night scape for no one to hear but herself. Caittie never expected it, but it had to happen, she was going to breakdown eventually. The purely deadpan informative nature of the sprite as she rambled off into the beginning of Caittie’s horrible time of trouble caused the young elf’s mental barriers, fragile as they were, to shatter like a stone through thin glass. Her psyche was already beaten raw by the events that caused her to look into the man that ruined her life and it could take no more. As her avatar bared her tortured being in her home node, her body in the physical world was curled up in a ball silently crying into the gathered sheet that came with the cheap coffin.
It felt like she was pouring out her feelings of fear, anger and vulnerability for hours, her emotions blocking off everything from the outside world. After a while, Caittie calmed down enough that she started to feel the flow of data from the matrix, the internal clock in her mind correcting itself and starting back up once again. What had seemed like so long had only been around eight minutes due to the time warping effect of operating at the speed of thought.
Slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position, she wiped her red eyes and tried to compose herself, but was failing miserably. She felt the data file that the sprite had deposited on her commlink, but she felt repulsed at the thought of looking at it right now. She needed someone to talk to and cry on their shoulder for a while, but the who problem was that everyone she knew was gone... except for her mentor. Grasping that last line of hope for help, Caittie mentally reached out, but after a bit, she gave up on being able to connect to Rebecca’s node.

‘This early in the morning, she is probably still asleep or hidden so she can study. That must be why I cant reach her, that must...’, she thought, because the only other option was one that she couldn’t accept. Still, she wanted to talk to her, but she first had to figure out a way to get her attention.
The elven woman in leathers sat there on the hard ground just thinking and wiping her eyes until she jerked her head a bit. Thinking back on the last time she had talked with Rebecca, she remembered that the other technomancer had sent a sprite to contact Caittie. ‘Maybe I can do the same to get her attention...’, she thought to herself.
Slowly standing up onto weakened legs, the woman took a deep breath to try and calm down enough to perform her desired actions. She held a hand, shaking even though she tried to steady it, and tried to bend the very fabric of the matrix, like she had so many times in the past few days. As she watched, the area around her started to shimmer and waver, but just a split second later, she noticed something wrong and it terrified her once she saw it.

Instead of the normal gathering of light the palm of her outstretched hand, there was an absence of it, in fact she swore she could see motes of light moving away from her hand. In the wake of the motes, she saw what could be only described as the lack of light, a speck of pure darkness. Even as she saw it and tried to abort her actions, she knew something had started that she couldn’t stop as she saw it start to grow as more and more motes of light left her hand.
Then as soon as it started, the motes stopped and the dark globe quit growing. Seeing this, Caittie let out a slight sign of relief only to take in a sharp breath as the motes of light immediately zoomed into the globe of darkness and it her vision pulled into it as well. As darkness and speeding streaks of light enveloped her sight, she screamed a soundless cry as Caittie’s body on the physical world grabbed her head and issued forth it’s own bloodcurdling scream of pain, though this one was true and audible.
She screamed, oh she screamed, as her body felt like it was being smashed, ripped, torn, squeezed, bent and stretched into the thinnest string of molecules possible all while being sped forward in this world of blackness with only a few streaks of light passing by. It continued on forever, time held no meaning, there was only pain and the destruction of her mind while she heard the silence of her own scream. She just existed like that for who knows how long until she grit her teeth and tried to focus her mind. At first it seemed like nothing was happening, but slowly the pain lessened and she was able to focus her mind even more. She continued until the she felt no pain and then concentrated for a split second before bursting out with all her will, the wave of power shattering the darkness revealing nothing yet everything at the same time.

Caittie could see, more like feel, a great globe of... something off in the distance. As she willed herself closer, she could make out smaller motes of what felt like pure information, only not quite. Moving in closer to one of them, she focused and then stopped in surprise once she felt what she it actually was. What she was looking at was the pure essence of a sprite. As she rushed up to it, she called out, “Hey, what is this place?”
The only response she got from it was a felling of annoyance as it broke from its straight line to go around her before resuming its desired course. Turning around, Caittie looked at it flying off and got annoyed herself. Taking a deep breath, clearly annoyed by its actions, she yelled out, “Hey!”
She just watched it fade off into the distant nothingness as she fumed. Not long after that though, she was broken out of her trance by a familiar ‘voice’. “Well, well, well. Looks like you finally made it here. Congratulations.”
Looking around she finally saw a sprite floating above her, though it felt different than the others. Rotating her body to be centered on the new axis, she focused on the being of pure information and recognized it for what it was. “Cid? Is that you?”, she asked the being to which she received a feeling of amusement and agreement that confirmed what she thought. She then figured the sprite looked different because she had registered it to her being and the others weren’t. “What is this place?”, she continued on her questions.

“This is the Resonance. Even I cant tell you much more than that, though some consider it the essence of digital life.” Cid responded, though he seemed a little off now that Caittie was concentrating on him. His voice sounded like he was talking slower, like music when you cut it down to two-thirds play speed. Wondering why her sprite was doing that, she asked, “Is there something wrong? Why are you talking so slow?”
His laughter to her question annoyed he a bit, but he did reply, “I’m not talking slow at all, YOU are just listening too fast. Your kind changes when they come here for the first time, though how they change depends on who they are.” When Caittie heard this, her brow furrowed as she just replied, “What?”
Laughing again, Cid continued on by saying,”Here, let me show you.” Before she could do anything else, she was looking at Cid, but also could see something else in her mind. She saw herself, though it couldn’t be her. As she looked on in disbelief, she raised her hand up to her face and saw herself in the third person do the same action. All she think to say was, “Holy shit...”

There floating in the darkness, surrounded by a soft glow and sprites moving around in the background, was a girl with her face but everything else was different. Instead of the leathers she had on before, she wore a pink and white tunic and shorts with some heavy looking red metal boots. Her hair long hair and eyes were now a bright shade of pink that put her dyed bangs in real life to shame. The most drastic change though were the six machine ‘wings’ that were coming out of her back and the feather like energy that made the ‘wings’ look complete.
As she floated there in shock upon seeing her new avatar, she watched as she reached up and touched one of the wings coming out of her back. Touching one, she felt it twitch along with the other five. She concentrated a bit and was surprised to see and feel that she could move them as she pleased. Her explorations were broken though by Cid’s voice smugly saying, “See, I told you that you changed.”
Still shocked, she saw the vision of herself fade away as she asked in a light voice, “How do I get out of this place?” The sprite’s reply was only, “The same way you got here.” To which she blanched and flinched visibly. He continued on after seeing her do that with a calming, “Don’t worry, I hear it only does that on the first time. You should be fine from now on.”
Taking a deep but shivering breath, Caittie concentrated and focused on returning to the place she was before, her own home node. She closed her eyes as she started to feel something, then all of a sudden, she was jerked forward at what seemed like high speeds. She tensed up as she expected the pain and torture from before, but before she could really do anything, it stopped.


Divine Rest
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:57:32
Caittie - Technomancer - Hidden
PAN - Passive

Slowly opening her eyes, she saw the familiar scene of her home node, though a few things were different than before. She looked around and first made note of the fact that she was floating instead of standing on the ground. The major changes though was the fact that the village around her looked like someone had come through and cleaned up some. The buildings were still all burned down and more ruins than buildings, but there were stacks of blocks and wood instead of rubble all over the place. The morning light also did a lot to make it look a lot less haunted than before.
Caittie discounted most of the changes though, just being happy to be back without the pain she experienced leaving. Taking a small breath, she shifted her consciousness back to the physical world and opened her eyes. Seeing the steel wall of the coffin in front of her, along with the bunched up sheet she held close to her, Caittie took a deep breath of relief. Then as a thought entered her mind, she tensed up before slowly reaching around behind her to touch her back. Feeling nothing but her long hair and the sports shirt, she smiled a bit and laughed sheepishly. “I must be going crazy... Thinking it would affect me out here.”, the elven technomancer told herself as she just lay there savoring the feeling of real life as she wiped her eyes. "An angel..."

[pragma]

Fortunato's Doss -- Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 4:25:32
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive

Fortunato roused himself heavily. He'd been twiddling his thumbs for weeks as his cash reserves dwindled to nothing. That goddamn Serbian had kept him waiting long enough. He didn't know what kind of good work could come from what was obviously a strip bar, but any cash he raised there would keep a roof over his head, put food in his mouth and get him closer to finding Jeffries and Montressor. He needed to go.

He prepped for battle walking out the door, slinging on an overcoat and pocketing pistol, taser and commlink. The viper was following at his heels until he reached the threshold. It hissed as he walked out into the morning downpour.

Dancing Bare -- Downtown
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:23:21
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive

The black clouds were just barely starting to turn gray over the Puget Sound as Greg stepped out of his cab. The cabbie had been standard fare for this hour of the morning: ork, unintelligible and half-asleep. Thankfully the torrential rain had kept the roads clear enough that the cab hadn't dinged anyone on the way over.

Even the brief walk from the cab to the door was enough to challenge the overcoat; nothing was built to deal with this much water. The troll doorman, who had been idling in a stool, stood as the sopping, thick elf walked to the door.

"Got the cover?" The troll grunted.

"I'm not here for the ladies, but the peaceful ambiance," Fortunato read from his contact display.

The troll immediately straightened up and smoothed his somewhat work-rumpled tuxedo. "Please step inside" the doorman said mustering all of the politeness in his gravelly voice. "The hostess will meet you shortly."

However, even the magic password couldn't get Fortunato past the weapons scanners. The invisible system requested his guns and he relinquished them -- there was no need to cause a stir and he had other weapons if he needed them.

A statuesque brunette wearing the unlikely combination of high heels and a single, carefully-wound bolt of silk met him as he entered the club proper. With little fuss he was guided paralell to the dancing stages and the cash bar to a small room filled with plush cushions and a dazzling array of vices.

"Help yourself to the bar; there are BTL's, drugs and drinks all on the house and let me know if you need anything else," the hostess said as she delicately lounged on a cushion near the door.

Even if Fortunato's raised eyebrow hadn't communicated his refusal the single word, "Privacy," did. The hostess left as the elf downed a shot of whiskey.

[adamu]

Adam and John's U of S Dorm Room
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:27:32

Adam was awakened by the chirping of his alarm clock. Could it be that time already? He batted a hand at the device, but finally his sleep-besotted mind realized it wasn't his alarm clock but his commlink. He grabbed the glasses and earbud he kept by the bed and answered.
It was Franco Balducci. "I want you here in 15 fucking minutes." And he was gone, offline.
One sentence. Mr. Smith was wide awake.

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:42:00

Adam felt like he was wetter than he'd ever been in his life. No time to wait for a cab, and no point in ruining a good suit in this deluge, he'd decided jeans and a jersey with a down jacket would have to do. He'd never dressed down for Franco before, but if the mobster wanted him there in fifteen, that's how it'd have to be.
Checking his chonometer, he hadn't had time to park his bike nearly as far from the bar as he'd have liked. As it was, only his incredible gift of luck had prevented him from crashing and burning on the slick, zero-visibility freeway as he'd careened down I-5 for the short hop from campus to downtown.
If the troll at the door thought anything of his bedraggled appearance - soaking wet casual clothes contrasting markedly with his ever-present Mr. Smith-briefcase - the big bouncer didn't show it. Mr. Smith didn't hesitate as he strode past the weapon detectors - none of Franco's men got hassled that way, and after his first month working for the up-and-coming(?) mob boss, no one hassled him either.
He walked straight up to the "throne room" and pulled up his usual chair across from the brawny Italian. He noticed a fresh dent in the table top.
Bruno handed him a towel, and as Smith dried off his hair, Franco asked about his health - "How's the face? Don't look none the worse for wear. Guess those Russians ain't as tough as they act. Want you to know, by the way, that all those jerks that messed you up are dead now."
If Franco was expecting a thank you, he didn't get one, so he continued - "Or mayby you are just tougher than you look. I was right about you, kid - you got something. You're one of the winners. You know, it ain't about what you know, or what you can do - winning's about attitude, and you got it. You're a guy that get's the job done.
"Well, I got a job needs doin'. A real step up from messenger boy, and you'd be your own boss...provided you continued to demonstrate the proper respect. Whaddaya say? Sound interesting? Or maybe you'd rather stay a punk college kid forever?"

[BlackHat]

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:42:10
Mr. Smith - Wet and Tired
PAN - Hidden

"Or maybe you'd rather stay a punk college kid forever?"

The comment was clearly meant to unsettle him - but surprisingly it didn't. Adam had been half-sure that Franco had known what was up, or done his homework at least, for a while now - but the fact that he was tossing that little bit of knowledge out there on the table was still worthy of his attention. It told Adam that he was right for not wanting Franco to know about his personal life - because, although he didn't ever wake up with a gun to his face, or with his roommate held hostage... it didn't mean it couldn't happen if he ever upset Franco.

Adam was actually in a pretty good mood after hearing Franco's offer. It meant two things. His ruse had apparantly lasted exactly as long as it needed to - long enough for "Mr. Smith" to do enough things right that Franco didn't kill him for deceiving him - and that Franco wasn't upset about the fact that the last negotiation he sent Smith into ended badly.

Of course, Adam had always suspected that Franco knew the score when he sent Adam there - so he wasn't overflowing with thanks when he learned that Franco had offed the thugs who wrecked his face. Still, it was a nice gesture.

Mr. Smith smiled, and tried to keep from letting his emotions show on his face. "Very interested, indeed, Mr. Balducci...." He could have said a lot more, but Adam felt that this wasn't the time - so he just waited for Franco to release the details.

[adamu]

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:45:00

"All right then, time's short so I'll get right to it. My brother and I's operation is taking off, as you know. We're getting stronger, but we're also more noticeable. And we're diversifying - getting into a bigger variety of things."
Yeah, thanks, thought Smith, I know what diversifying means.
"Now I got a lot of good guys working for me. Smart guys. Tough. Loyal soldiers. They can do a lot of things for me. But they's known. Known to work for me. That's the flip side of the loyalty coin. So what I need is access to assets that are more versatile, that can take on a wider range of jobs - and they gotta be unconnected to me. So I need me a stable of shadowrunners. And I want you to run it.
"Whether you participate or just broker is all on you. Now, I ain't talkin' about layin' down the cash to keep the whole damned team permanently on retainer - they can take other jobs and all that. But I want first dibs.
"Thing is, they can't know its me behind things. They can't know you work for me, and they can't know that its me doing the hiring on some of the jobs. You'll be the only connection. And you run the team - like I said, either hands on or as a suit, whatever you want. You make sure they work steady, you make sure they don't work against me, you make sure they're available if I call, and you feed me any useful knowledge they pick up. When it's me doing the hiring, you broker the deal. And I am NOWHERE in the picture.
"For this I will pay you Y2,000 a week, I will point you toward some talent, and I will bankroll the first job. Beyond that, you can keep making money on other jobs whenever I don't need you.
"Now, you tell me what you think of that, and I'll tell you why I'm in such a rush this morning."

[BlackHat]

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:45:30
Mr. Smith - Potential Johnson
PAN - Hidden

"I think," began Mr. Smith in his typical charming confident manner, "that your offer sounds right up my alley - and that I would love to help you." He smiled and nodded. "I might even have a couple of contacts in that area that I could call upon, when such need arises - with no connection to you whatsoever." Well, one, thought Smith. Cal and Deerwalker have proven themselves unreliable already, and they have an idea of the kind of people I work for.

"However," threw in Mr. Smith after a short pause, "... while :nuyen: 2,000 a week is a generous offer for the type of position we are talking about, I can't help but notice that it comes out to about half of what you've been paying me up until now." The words came to him as quickly as he was speaking them, so he didn't have a lot of time to edit them, but they made sense.

For the last 3 months, Mr. Smith has been handling negotiations, and delivering messages for Franco, and has only barely managed to keep his financial head above water. He wouldn't normally be able to estimate his weekly bankroll so quickly, but he had been very meticulous about tracking how much he needed to earn to cover his new expenses - and although he had only done a dozen jobs or so, after expenses, Smith figured he was pulling in roughly :nuyen: 20,000 each month, for the last 3 months. That was closer to :nuyen: 5,000 a week - but Smith understood that this new position was potentially less dangerous (if he was simply a suit, and a mouthpiece for Franco). He didn't like the idea of having to participate personally, if he could avoid it - but if that's what he had to do to make enough money, he would. If Adam was lucky, Franco Balducci hadn't been paying as close attention to Mr. Smith payments as Adam had been. The math seemed to work out, and it just might give him the advantage in negotiating a better offer.

"I understand that the kind of job you and I are talking about isn't necessarily as 'hands-on' as my last one." He subtly wiped at his face as he spoke, hoping to remind Franco of the beatings he had taken. "... but, as I understand it, promotions are generally accompanied by raises - even in this sort of buisness."

Mr. Smith tried hard to maintain a friendly demeanor while negotiating for a raise. It reminded him of all the advice he and his college classmates had recieved about accepting your first real full-time job out of college, whatever you make at your first job, it will set the bar for what you make from then out - so its in your best interest to try to negotiate for a higher salary. Once a company has made you an offer, they're serious about you, and have already invested a lot in the interview process, they won't turn you away for asking. Of course, the people who passed on that advice had probably never worked for the mob, before, so Mr. Smith was hoping that the logic still applied.

"And, let's be honest, if I have to participating in the run - to ensure that everything goes smoothly - and am going to be expected to make up the difference that way, those that hire us (yourself included) arn't going to pay any more to get the job done - so that means less money to go around, which only makes my job of keeping your Runners happy that much harder."

As he politely handed Bruno back the towel, he gestured at his soaking wet, unprofessional attire, "... and, of course, with this 'promotion,' I expect to have new unavoidable expenses. If we want them to believe that I am the boss, I am going to have to look the part, right."

"So, while I am very interested in this position, I am hoping you are willing to negotiate on that offer - or at least address those concearns - before I ask any more questions about the details. I understand we are in a hurry," Damn well better be if you got me up at 4am for this. "... but I think you agree that this is a long-term contract that you and I are talking about, and, as always, I would like to make sure both parties feel like they have gotten something they wanted."

There was more that Smith wanted to say - or, rather, ask, about this offer - but before he did, he wanted to settle on a price with Franco.

[adamu]

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 04:48:00

As Franco sat contemplating Smith's counter, a nude elven woman served drinks, and then expertly dodged the pawing hands of the bodyguards on her way back down the stairs onto the main floor.

04:52:00

Franco looked like he was about to answer when his eyes got that distant look of someone accessing AR, and he started to speak into the air. Apparently he didn't much care if Smith overheard.

"He went where? Idiot....Of course they were there....Yeah?....Uh huh....Yeah, you did the right thing. Good job. So he made it out okay?...Well, that can be fixed if he lives long enough...Good. Stay on him."

Franco redirected his attention to Smith. He seemed to have made his decision. "Look, the idea is I am laying out a lot of capital to set you up, and that will enable you - with no initial investment - to start earning on your own. But I'll go up to three-K - and you'll take it. I got no more time to argue. It's a done deal." Balducci closed the negotiations with a no-nonsense warning glance.

"Okay," he continued, "I got a real pain in my ass called Louie Fishbreath. This cunt is always gettin' up in my business. I'd've offed him months ago - but he's connected eight ways to Sunday. Hell, I almost did it anyway, and with my own two mitts, this fucker been pissin' me off so much. Always musclin' in on my hard-earned territory - and got no idea what a pussy he really is - how it's only his high and mighty relatives and his own geek-ass skills that are keepin' him alive.
"So about a week ago, he really screws up - leaning on a club - one of MY damned clubs, mind you - and offs some skirt in front of some damn punk high school kids, and then doesn't even have the balls to finish the job. So I think this new DA with a hard-on for the Finnegan Family is gonna do my job for me - pencil-neck takes all the kids into protective custody, gonna use 'em to get Fishbreath. But that witch O'Malley knows Louie'll fold like a fuckin' Nip origami, so she has contracts put out on all them kids - and Rothstein, he's weak, got no hold on his men. So all them kids and their families get wasted.
"But I'm gettin' ahead of myself. See, what I need is to hire a team of runners - no connection to me - to off that bastard Fishbreath - make an example of him that can't be pinned on me by the Commissione. But he is a cousin or a son or a grandson to so damned many mobsters in this burg that I think he's got fucking spaghetti sauce for blood and cabbage 'n' cornbeef for brains. So I can't find anybody to take the job at any kinda reasonable rate - everyone says its a damned retirement job - and I ain't payin' no damned shadowrunner low-life to spend the rest of his worthless existence sitting on some beach in the Carib League.
"So a week ago, Fishbreath takes on some new help. Couple a troll sammies. These two turn out to be some grade-A badasses. Louie's like a kid with a new toy, carting these oafs around and siccing them on anything that moves. I'm thinking great, one more problem for me.
"But then tonight my people tell me Louie got word that one of them kids is still alive, holed up in some coffin squat. This could be a break, I think, but Fishbreath is on it like track marks on a junkie's arm. Sends a dozen or more guys over there, and sends the trolls in to roust her out."

05:03:00

Franco was interrupted by another call. "All right, that's real good. She leaves there without you seeing her, it's your fucking heads. And like I told you, write down the damned address and room...On your fucking cock if you have to, but get it down on hard copy. You know what happened before."

Back to Mr. Smith: "Well then is when the saints above smiled on me. Next thing anyone knows, everything goes to hell, mayhem everywhere, and the trolls are helping the little chica escape, wasting Louie's guys right and left. They all split up after that. No one can think why these trog brutes helped the little girl - maybe they went soft, or maybe she's some kinda witch. But I'll tell you one thing, they are gonna be dead soon.
"So you can see how all of a sudden, I have the answer to two of my problems. Two proven hard-ass samurai - suddenly very unemployed, and since they are trolls," he checked to make sure Bruno was watching the dancers, "very controllable. Perfect core muscle for your team. Then, they already are marked by Fishbreath, so they got absolutely nothing to lose by going after him - I mean, what's he gonna do that he ain't already doin'?" Franco was looking very pleased with himself. "Then you got the girl - I don't know what her deal is exactly - I know Fishbreath thinks she's a mage, but I say she's a hacker. We had a whole file on her, and then all of a sudden it was all corrupted and shit. We put back as much as we could from memory, but soon as we did it crashed again. Anyway, whatever she is, she's survived two full-on hits - she's got something on the ball, so you should check her out and see if she's useful.
"See, we need people that ain't got nothing to lose to have go after Fishbreath for me. Now on top of these three - or two if she turns out to just be a lucky kid - you'll need more people for a full-on team. I counted on you saying you knew some people yourself. Plus, I found you an experienced magical operative looking for work. Now, you and I both know that's like finding fucking Sukie Redflower crying alone in a bar right after breaking up with her boyfriend. It's an opportunity not to be passed up.
"So here's what you do - I got the mage coming here right now, because every damned second counts. You do a deal with him, and you get on the horn and call in these other people you know. Get them on board, and do it fucking fast, because the girl and the troll are key to the plan - you might have to assure the others that they won't be directly connected to the hit on Fishbreath, only play support - and I agree it's a lot better that way, too. So you gotta get those three so we'll have someone to do the dirty work. But I don't need to tell you that they are none of 'em long for this green earth."

05:16:00

Another call. "You sure. Damn. Good thing....But you still don't...Well stay on it, and stay quiet."

"Heh, damned trolls.
"Listen, like I was saying, you gotta get this team together and damned fast - one of the trolls just survived a hit, but he's shot up pretty bad. Just heard the other one wasted another hit team. These guys are good, but Louie's goons won't keep underestimating them forever. I reckon they each got a life expectancy of about three hours if they don't get some help.
"We got eyes on the girl. Her name's Caittie Natome - and damned if I am not pulling that straight out of the old noodle - I will be turning State's Evidence before we can get one damned byte to stick to our comms on that little bitch. But right now she's at the Divine Rest coffin hotel.
"The troll called Cerberus, the one got shot up, he's in an alley in Touristville - we got eyes on him, too, and we can keep you updated.
"The other troll, Rocky, we lost him when they all split up, but I'll bet if you find the other two, they'll know how to find him.
"Now here's the deal, and it's legit - I wouldn't ruin your street rep right outta the chute by making a liar of you. These people kill Fishbreath, and I can square it with both the Finnegans and the Ciarniellos - both of which he is related to by blood. I won't go into details about how - just trust me - while he's alive, they are dead, but if he dies, they get to live. I can arrange that.
"For the others, use this -" he snapped his fingers and Bruno produced a valise. Mr. Smith opened it to find stacks of cash nuyen. "What you keep and what you pay is all on you - your show as long as you get a good team hired. I was you, I wouldn't pay our three fugitives one damned nuyen - save it for myself, the mage and your friends - they are damned well getting enough with me squaring things with the families for them. But it's your circus."

05:24:00

"Hey, there's the mage now," Franco said, nodding toward a thickly bearded elf being shepherded across the floor by one of the lead girls. "His name's Fortunato, and that name's your code word to let him know you're legit. Be sure to make him think you arranged the VIP room on your own dime as a courtesy. Hell, I don't care what you tell him or the others, as long as my name stays way the hell out of it. The mage is handled by a guy named the Slav, but he just works for a damned self-righteous beaner calls himself Don Ricardo. The Slave thinks this mage smells like a spook, but says he trusts him.
"So you know the deal, you know what you gotta do. Get in there and hire that spellslinger. We won't talk directly again for some while, but you'll get your money every week, usual account, and we'll send you updates on the locations of the Three Amigos when we get 'em."

[BlackHat]

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:24:30
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Mr. Smith's mood lightens as he hears the details of the job. He was worried it was going to be something like this - a high-profile hit against someone Franco didn't want any connection to. Still, Smtih was pleased to hear it was an asshole of a mob-boss, and not just some down-on-his-luck guy who made enemies with the wrong family. The news that Franco could point him at three people that had every reason to want this guy dead, too, was icing on the cake. The problem was, of course, the fact that half of the city probably wanted this "Fishbreath" guy dead - and the fact that it hadn't happened yet was a sign that it wouldn't be easy.

Franco was right, Mr. Smith was going to need to secure all the help he could get. "I'll get right to work then," he added, and he stood from the table, closing the valise, and offering Franco his hand. "... and let me say, I am impressed by the way you have handled this so far. I won't let you down."

The Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:26:00
Mr. Smith (aka. Mr. Johnson)
PAN - Hidden

*ahem* "Fortunato, I presume." Mr. Smith cleared his throat as he entered the plush private room, both to get the man's attention and to keep from startling him. He was somewhat pleased to see that the heavy rain had been only slightly more forgiving with the elven mage - but Mr. Smith really did wish he had had the time to make himself a bit more presentable before this meeting.

Mr. Smith then walked wordlessly across the room and set both briefcases down and took a seat. It was comfortable - too comfortable for a guy that hadn't gotten that much sleep the night before - but, again, it wasn't really the stiff professional image he wanted to give off. Still, there was no way he was going to stand for the entire meeting.

Despite his casual rain-soaked clothes, and younger-than-average appearance, Mr. Smith did his best to speak with an air of condifence and intelligence befitting his usual demeanor - and his new position. "I appologize for the inappropriate timing of this meeting, however, it couldn't be avoided. I assure you, it was an inconvience to us both."

As he speaks, Mr. Smith manipulates a couple of AR objects, activating the white-noise located in his briefcase. He understands that the building must be secure - but at the same time, he wouldn't want to give Fortunato the same impression. For a moment, he thought about activating the radio jamming feature of the device - but the thing was powerful, and it would probably do a number on the AR interface to the strip-club, and draw a lot of unwanted attention from the patrons.

"I understand that you are looking for work, and you have come highly recommended. I am interested in putting together a team of similar individuals - not for a single job (although I do have on lined up, already), but with the intention of establishing a mututally beneficial longer-term relationship." Mr. Smith smiled and went on, trying to decide what angle to approach this problem with. "...this is by no means an offer, just yet - but I want you to keep in mind that if the job we are here to discuss goes smoothly, and, in the end, I am happy, I can make sure you are in a position to find a lot more work, and a team of competent people to count on. In this buisness, that means everything."

"Before we begin, do you have any questions for me?" Mr. Smith leaned back on his pillow, wondering just what the mage would ask - this was another fairly common interview proceedure, although it usually came at the end of the interview. Mr. Smith was hoping it would let him get some insight into this "Fortunato" guy.

Before he could respond, Smith gestured to his drink, "Oh, and help yourself to the drinks, or the menu. I will be covering your tab for this meeting, and I want you to be comfortable."

[pragma]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:25:32
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive

If he hadn't already been sent by a polite Serbian mercerenary to a mob controlled brothel at five AM, Fortunato would have been endlessly surprised at his damp, young (was he a teenager? probably not, but damn he was young), bedraggled employer. However, given what he'd already seen of the city this sort of surprise was par for course.

The employer seemed tech savvy. Fortunato certainly wasn't much of a judge of anything technical, but the AR security measures the kid was laying down and the forward tone lent the meeting enough of an air of professionalism that he didn't feel too ridiculous taking a seat on the fuzzy pink cushion across the coffee table from his new Johnson and listening closely.

"I can make sure you are in a position to find a lot more work, and a team of competent people to count on. In this buisness, that means everything."

The kid had said the magic words. Contacts and business were what Fortunato needed. He had to fight the subconscious urge to start nodding along with the kid's spiel; no need to give away too many bargaining chips before negotiation proper.

Ignoring the kid's reference to his own hospitality, Fortunato said

"I'm curious about the work you're offering and what the the pay looks like, why don't we start there Mr. ... I don't think I caught a name."

[BlackHat]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:25:52
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Mr. Smith had almost given his usual shadow-name, but thought better of it at the last second. Franco really didn't want to be tied to this job, and Mr. Smith new that those with thier ears close to the Seattle mafia might recognise the young 'Mr. Smith' as an up and coming negotiator for Franco Balducci. Smith wasn't so worried that Fortunato was one such person, but he was quite certain that the two trolls he was going to have to deal with later were familiar with the ins and outs of mafia-life.

"... I believe it is traditional to introduce myself as 'Mr. Johnson'." Smith replied. He had seen a few shadowrunner trids (and a couple of cartoons) where the protagonists got their jobs from a guy who wanted anonymity - a man that introduced himself as 'Mr. Johnson'. In pretty much all of them, no matter who was doing the hiring, that was the name they gave. He supposed the running gag was that this had become common practice, so all of these guys were meeting up and calling themselves by the same name. It seemed kind of stupid to Adam before he started actually dealing with criminals on a regular basis - but now, it seemed like a very professional way to avoid giving any information on yourself, even a name. He considered throwing out a handful of other common surnames (Anderson, Price, Thomas, Brown, Miller, etc) but decided to go with the one that seemed most appropriate to the situation - Johnson.

Smith had hoped that Fortunato would have said more about himself - and his own abilities. He was hoping the runner would have been a bit proud of himself, or eager to please, and tried to sell himself - but, Mr. Smith could definatly respect someone not wanting to give out too much information about himself. He had been spending most of his time trying to cover his tracks and hide the details of his own life from his boos for months now. He could also see why Fortunato would want to hear what the job entails before going into how he could help - that just made sense. And, of course, he could understand his desire to talk about the offer.

Mr. Smith hadn't really decided how he wanted to explain the job, yet. His ruse to buy himself time, or unearth some hint as to how to best approach it had fallen flat, but, in his head, he was close to having come up with a way of making the job sound a lot less crazy than it probably was. Mr. Smith didn't think that he'd have any trouble convincing the trolls or girl to get on-board, but wasn't sure what would best entice Fortunato. He was, however, planning to contact Sledge soon after, and see if he could get her to join up - so, for lack of a better angle, Mr. Smith decided to proceed forward, and use his current "elevator-pitch" on Fortunato to test the waters, and see how a shadowrunner might respond. It was a gamble, like most things Smith did, but it was just as good as any of his other options at this point - and, even if it fails him here, that might help him succeed, next time.

"As for the job, I hope you understand that until you and I have come to some agreement, I will be unable to disclose many of the details - but let me give you some background before we discuss your payment."

"Hiding out in the shadows of Seattle, at this moment, are a handful of Shadowrunners - much like yourself - who have made the mistake of crossing the wrong person." Mr. Smith paused, only for a second before proceeding forward. He wanted to be very careful not to drop any identifying information - since if Fortunato were to take this information to the wrong people, Smith would be toast. "This person, unfortunatly has the money, and desire to take out a contract on their heads, and has recently done so. The Shadowrunners are good - damn good, from what I have heard, but I have also heard that their enemy is better. By my estimation, in a matter of hours, the three of them will be dead."

"I, however, am very interested in seeing that they live. So interested, in fact, that I am pulling together a handful of talented Runners to keep them alive, long enough for them to settle the score with their enemy - by whatever means is necessary. "

"Let me be clear on this, so there is no misunderstanding - nor complications later. These other Shadowrunners are going to want this person dead. That is the only way out of their situation. It is regretable, but one way or another, someone is going to die. I am interested in making sure that it is the bad-guy. I'm not, necessarily, hiring you to kill this person - but I am going to expect you to lend magical support to help them get the job done, themselves. In fact, the more that you can make it look like them lashing out at the man who wants them dead, the better it is for everyone involved."

"Besides doing this 'good deed', being offered further employment afterwards, and, of course, being paid for their effort on this job, those who I bring on board will have saved the lives of a handful of skilled Shadowrunners. That kind of debt cannot be bought with money, and would put you in a very good position, within the team, as your career together takes off."

"Assuming we are successful, I am hoping that the group of you will be interested in further employment - and will realize the advantage to working together as part of a cohesive team. I can arrange more jobs for you and would like to be your primary employer. However, until such a time as it becomes necessary, I am not interested in having an exclusive relationship with the team. In fact, I wouldn't mind offering my services if you find yourselves approached by a third party, with a decent offer for work. After all, any opportunity for additional experience and income will make the team a more fine-tuned group - and would come at no additional cost to me."

"However, I am getting ahead of myself. For the time being, lets focus on the job at hand. If I am able to locate these unfortunate Runners, it is only a matter of time before their enemies do so, as well. So, while this means that time is of the essence, it also means that this job is certainly not going to take a very long time to reach its conclusion. This is, of course, why I was interested in meeting with you now - and getting to work immediately. However, if I am wasting your time, let me know, and I will look for magical assistance elsewhere."

When it came time to put a price on the job, Mr. Smith wished he knew a little bit more about the going rates for various crimes - or for Shadowrunners for that matter. The only points of reference he had were what Franco had been paying him for dangerous negotiations, and what Cal had managed to scrape together to secure him for the Idenshitech job. He momentarily weighed the various factors in his own mind, and adjusted for the expenses he expected to cover, as well as the fact that he still had to bring a couple of other people on board, and cover his own expenses. Afterwards, he was confident in his initial offer, and spoke with some finality."This job is something of an interview - a trial run. But I am prepared to pay you handsomely for your time, and for the inherent dangers involved with this sort of work. :nuyen: 5,000 - a taste of things to come. Twice that, if you're willing to get your hands dirty, and assist the others in 'taking care' of their newfound enemy - and I'm prepared to throw in a small bonus if this thing goes off smoothly. In addition, I have made arrangements, so that once we're finished, neither the endangered Shadowrunners, nor the accomplices I hire, will be blamed for 'voiding' their enemy's contract." The price seemed fair to Mr. Smith, even considering some of the details he was witholding - because of the other benifits he had already highlighted.

As always, however, he was willing to negotiate. He definatly felt as though he had a lot to offer Fortunato and the others, and certainly that held most of the cards. He definately didn't want to break the bank on one guy - and could always square it away with the team if things got more dangerous than he was expecting, and the expenses were kept to a minimum. Mr. Smith was definatly beginning to understand Cal's situation more clearly - being in charge of a dangerous and (probably) illegal job was getting stressful.

"So, I hope that you have found my offer is suitably interesting...."

[pragma]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:26:13
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive

The Kid talked a lot.

Fortunato was kicking himself for not assensing the kid during his job pitch, but even without the extra, magical information this was a deal. :nuyen: 10,000 out of the gate wasn't what Fortunato had been expecting. Granted, he hadn't been expecting much at all -- maybe 500 to ward some mobsters garage or something like that. He had no intention of letting this slide.

Of course, he'd be getting shot at again. His last promotion at the CIA had more or less removed that part of his job description. But he didn't have too much else to grab at, and the chance to work with a dicreet, good-paying Johnson was a big draw. Any rate, this guy seemed a lot saner than the political nuts he'd had to work with when he still did fieldwork -- this was going to be fine.

"The offer's interesting and I'm willing to start with the numbers on the table. A few more details about what's going on would be nice, but if its eyes only I understand."

A moment's worry came to Fortunato:

Slav recommended this guy ... that means that I can trust him, right?

[JDragon]

Coffin Motel Somewhere in Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 05:28:41
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

The ride to the coffin motel had been quite and several times Rocky almost feel asleep, but then the cabbie would hit a pothole, which would throw him around sending an arch of pain through his shoulder.

When he had arrived he paid the driver, got soaked again in the short walk inside. It had taken some work, but he was able to find one open slot on the first floor. Paying with his credstick he had slipped inside and almost collapsed.

* * * * *

He wasn't sure how long he had been out as he had not been watching the time, but he knew it hadn't been long. Sitting up he slipped the suit jacket and shirt off and took a closer look at the wound. Having never been shot before he wasn't sure what to expect. But after a few painful checks he realized some how the bullet had just grazed him and it was only a surface wound and he didn't have a slug to remove.

Digging another piece of the tee shirt he had ripped up earlier he wrapped his shoulder back up and lay back down. As he lay there waiting for sleep to come he thought about the events of the few days and even the last few weeks, and wondered if he had made the wrong choice.

It was hard to keep any coherent thought going due to the cramps and coughing from the withdrawal that was kicking his ass. Which then would send more pain from the gunshot wound as he bumped his shoulder or moved his arm the wrong way.

A few times he would find his pill bottle in his hand, but not remember having pulled it out of his pocket. He wanted to put in his duffle bag, but just couldn't go that far so it would go back in his pants pocket. Only to end up in his hand again a few minutes later.

At some point he finally was able to get a little control over his body, but before he made any progress on his reflections he slipped off to sleep.

[BlackHat]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:26:35
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Mr. Smith, or Mr. Johnson as he was now expecting to be called, smiled and seemed very pleased with the way the offer was going. He wasn't entirely sure what "eyes only" meant, but figured that it was some sort of "shadowrunner term" that he should probably know. Considering the context, though, Mr. Smith felt fairly confident in assuming it meant something about the details of the job being on a need-to-know basis, and, of course, until Fortunato signed up - he didn't need to know.

"Yes, I would love to be able to give you more details up front - but I hope you understand that it is for both of our protection that I do not. If I told you my entire plan, up front, and you refused - you wouldn't be able to unlearn what I have told you, and would have made youself a dangerous liability. Of course, the same holds true after you agree - but in this buisness it is considered very unprofessional to back out of a job once you have signed on."

"However, I think at this point, we have both made ourselves perfectly clear - and we are both in possession of something the other wants. So, if you would like to make this a deal, officially, we can get started right away." Mr. Johnson had also hoped that Fortunato would have indicated whether or not he was considering going after the 5K bonus for getting blood on his hands, but wasn't going to press tha matter - perhaps he was still thinking things over. It isn't a choice that Adam would have liked to be presented with on short notice.

"Keep in mind, that once you've agreed, this becomes something of a verbal contract. I'm going to expect you to act professionally and to see this thing through to the end - as I will no longer be looking for magical support, and would be placing myself in a position where I cannot find a replacement for you on such short notice. However, in return, you can expect the very same from me."

"So, Fortunato, I am eager to get started. If our little dance here is done... do we have a deal?" Mr. Johnson stood and offered his hand to the elf.

[pragma]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 4:27:02
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive

The Johnson was spending a worryingly long time shoring up his position. Fortunator had gone through enough job interviews in his life to understand that backing out after an offer was made was bad form; in a flash of insight, he realized that his young Johnson might not have...

Standing and taking the Kid's hand Fortunato confirmed his interest for the second time saying, "I'm your mage for the time being. :nuyen: 10,000 for finding the runners and shaking down their mysterious enemy is a done deal."

He was an honest to God shadowrunner now. The kind of terrorist that he would have tortured to death three monts ago. It didn't feel that different.

[BlackHat]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:27:22
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Mr. Smith shook the man's hand, genuinely pleased with himself, and with the ease with which the first part of his job had gone. He paused when Fortunato mentioned "shaking down" the guy, and said, "Just so we are clear... as I mentioned before, they will be 'shaking' him... to death - but, yes, if you don't mind getting a little blood on your hands, you are entitled to the additional :nuyen: 5,000."

"Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I have a couple of other calls to make - and then we will be off to secure the wayward Shadowrunners." Smith stood there for a moment, to make sure Fortunato didn't have anything else to add - he was particularly concearned that there had been some miscommunication and Fortunato had somehow gotten the idea that there might be some peaceful resolution to this. Meanwhile, he started to bring up his (relativly small) contact list, and prepare an encrypted call to Sledge.

[BlackHat]

Dancing Bare
Tuesday 8/19/70 5:27:43
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

After getting a head-nod from Fortunato, Mr. Smith smiled and pointed at the drinks. "Enjoy yourself. I shouldn't be long - but keep your head about you. The job starts tonight." He then picked up his briefcases and stepped out into the main club area. he set the commlink to connect the encrypted call as he made his way to another unoccupied private room. The attractive young girl that looked up at him as he entered seemed to recognise him even before he motioned at the doorway for her to get lost.

Despite the security of his encryption algorithms, Mr. Smith still set his end of the communication to be voice-only - he looked like a wet dog, and although his image was marred with Fortunato there was no reason to let Sledge see him this way just yet.

*ring ring*

Damn. Smith almost forgot it was like 5 in the morning. Hopefully Sledge was up - or didn't mind being woken up. If she does this sort of thing, for real, she's probably more used to this schedule than I am. Thought Mr. Smith as he waited for her comm to pick up.