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

[Abbandon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:06:29
Cerberus - street samurai
PAN - hidden(one earbud, and sub mic)

Cerberus stood outside the van with other males. Johnson asked if anyone had any problems with getting some rooms here and he didnt think it was to safe but he sure as heck didnt want to try and find another place or worse, have to pay for it so he kept his big mouth shut.

Cerberus looked around the parking lot, the trucks and stores along one side of the main building were all lit up with various lights and holograms ranging from corp logo's to resteraunt chains to some questionable entertainment. Looking up into the night sky he marveled at how many more stars he was able to see and how much more beatiful everything looked with his new eyes. It was going to be getting light out in a few hours they should all be in a room and resting by then.

Caittie poked her head out the back of the van and called to Fort. Mr. glowing green hands walked over there and climbed in. Shortly there after the whole entire interior of the van was lit up in a pleasing green light. Seeing Caittie poke her head out of the back of the van made him wonder how the kid was holding up, it had to be extra hard on her. Then Fort came back out of the van. Cerberus tried to get a sneak peek into the van to see how bad off Sledge was but the door shut once again. Cerberus turned to Rocky and shrugged, "Chicks".

Cerberus was about to talk with Rockymore but after seeing all the bandages and blood he had second thoughts and kept his mouth shut. He just stood there waiting for one of the many bosses to give him something to do. Well theres no going back to something semi legal now, im pass the point of no return and this is going to be how I live my life so I better get used to this.

[BlackHat]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:31:52
Smith - Johnson
PAN - hidden

A few minutes after he left, Johnson returned, smiling. Catching Cerberus's eye, he tossed him a keycard - although Cerberus ended up handing it off to Rocky. "The honeymoon suite is all yours, guys. You shouldn't be bothered until Saturday, but you might want to make sure nobody's peeping."

As the team made their way into the room, Johnson wasted no time in getting down to business. <<@Team:: "Angel, can you ziltch security? We're about to be 'suspicious,' and we're going to want to talk... Thanks.">> He opened one of his briefcases, on a peeling dirty table, and began pulling out stacks of bills, setting them aside and being sure to give Angel time to do what she could.

"If anyone would rather have digital cred, I can handle one or two of you that way." Looking around, he noticed a reaction from Angel, and smiled and put her stack back in his suitcase. A moment later a " :nuyen: " icon appeared in AR near her head, waiting for the connection to some sort of cred-stick.

Before he closed it up, he pulled out a few loose bills, setting them on the table away from the rest. He then reached into his suit pocket and put a large wad of cash on top of it. "That should cover the bare necessities while I'm gone. Have some fun, on me - whatever your vice is, you guys have earned it. If you decide to go house-hunting, without me, consider that my share of the rent." Johnson appeared to be in one of his less-serious moods. The look on his face was that of a man who had just cheated death, and now felt bullet-proof.

He glanced over and made a questioning expression in Angel's direction, who responded by indicating that it was now safe to talk, and Johnson began removing his disguise. "Okay, I'm tired. We're all tired. So, I'll make this short and to the point."

"All five of you exceeded my expectations, and the only real hiccups came from my meddling. I apologize for that, and I think that if I can learn to focus on the business-side of things, and let you guys do your thing, that this will be a very beneficial arrangement for all of us." Setting the remains of his disguise in his briefcase, he looked up. "Consider the interview process, officially over. " Looking at each of Angel, Cerberus, and Rocky, he added, "Congratulations, you're professionals now."

Snapping his briefcase closed, he glanced at the door, still smiling. "And, on that note, I'm going to get out of your hair for a while, and let you rest up. Is there anything else I can do for anyone, before I go?...."

[Abbandon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway, Room 6
Thursday 8/21/70 00:32:00
Cerberus - street samurai
PAN: Hidden(earbud/subvocal mic)

Cerberus nearly leaped out of his skin, "Yeah, I could use a little more help. Thanks to the ambush at my apartment my SIN is probably as good as criminal by now. Can you get your hands on some new identities or tell me the name of a guy who can? I am looking for a low grade and a medium grade SIN, dont care what names they have. And I just wanted to say thanks for everything you have done for me. Hopefully we are in the clear and you can get a nice return on your investment."

[BlackHat]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:32:47
Smith - Johnson
PAN - hidden

"Yeah, I might know some people that can help you out. I'll see if I can set something up for this weekend. If anyone else wants in, it might be easier to do this once, with everyone involved. If you want I can put out feelers about what happened to the old you, too." Smith shrugged. "Then again, maybe you'd rather let it go...."

[Abbandon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway, Room 6
Thursday 8/21/70 00:33:00
Cerberus - street samurai
PAN: Hidden(earbud/subvocal mic)

"Hey if you want to risk it, that would be great if you could find out anything about how hot I am. If there is a way to salvage my old SIN that would save me alot of money."

[BlackHat]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:34:30
Smith - Johnson
PAN - hidden

"I'll see what I can do. I don't know the details of what went down at your apartment, specifically, just that you survived a hit. I'll bet that was messy. And, if its anything like the way you and Rocky got on you-know-who's shit-list to begin with, it could have gone one of two ways. Either, the carnage went public, and ground zero was your place - so you'll have some serious explaining to do, or you-know-who had as much to lose as you did, by anyone finding out he was connected to it, and covered it up for us, before he 'retired'."

"Either way, I think the biggest problem with going back to that SIN, now, is that by morning, everyone connected to this will have heard about our farewell-party - and, even through most of them will be glad that somebody did it, somebody is going to have to be held accountable. The mob can't afford to give the impression that its underlings can sign their resignation with a bullet, and just walk away." Johnson smiled.

"If things go as planned, that somebody will be our departed 'Fish', and you two will be off the hook, so to speak."

Then a thought seemed to occur to Johnson and he turned to Angel. "You, though. Seems like you never did anything wrong, legally, and the mob just lost all reason to want you silenced. Are you considering going back to your old life?"

[Konsaki]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:34:58
Caittie – Technomancer - Hidden
PAN – Hidden

As Caittie stepped out the back of the van, she was proud of herself for the fact that she was able to help Sledge. The astonished praise she received from Fortunato helped inflate her spirits as well, but the high didn’t last long in the dark cooling Snohomish night.

To the left of the door she stepped out of, the teenager could see the bearded solemn face of the other elf. His eyes and hands were examining the effects of his talent’s backlash if used too much or too hard. The weathered and tired looking face he bore shown the night’s exertions, which she too probably shone herself.
Between the girl and the all-in-one building, the two giant powerhouses were standing, looking as if they had just finished a quick conversation and having nothing else to talk about. The bandages and blood stains that covered wounds they seemed to just shrug off put a grim setting to the pair. Though, she knew they had worries outside of their injuries to ponder.

Beyond the pair, Caittie could see the slightly older college student, who also moonlighted as a Johnson, walking from the building behind. His suit gave him an air of importance and that, along with his grin over the completion of the mission, caused the girl to drop back into introspection even more.
As the group made their way into the hotel to the room Johnson had secured, near silence was the only thing that emanated from the young technomancer. The slight swaying of her long braided hair bumping against the backpack she wore along with her footsteps mixed into the background noise the rest of the team made.

Once inside the room, the pink and red haired girl sat down on one of the cots rolled into the small extra room. From where she was she could see and hear Johnson as he opened his briefcase and started laying out stacks of money. In the following minutes, words and cash were set out, and though her mind was distracted she was aware enough to give her credstick to Johnson so he could increase the balance on it, along with putting a small stack of bills into her pockets.
As she made her way back to the cot, though, she stopped dead in her tracks. Johnson had asked something that bore through her thoughts to the core of her being. "You, though. Seems like you never did anything wrong, legally, and the mob just lost all reason to want you silenced. Are you considering going back to your old life?"

Turning halfway around, the young woman faced the man. Caittie’s pretty face showed a smile that was obviously out of place compared to the rest of her bodylanguage. Her voice showed no emotion when she spoke though, as she replied with a deadpan, “I have no life to go back to…�
Then in silence, she finished her way back to the pair of cots in the separate room and lay down. The early morning was merciful to the girl, a bittersweet feeling, as an exhausted sleep overcame her almost instantly. She barely had enough time to perform one last task, but even the memory of that action was lost to her undreaming mind.

[BlackHat]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:35:12
Smith - Johnson
PAN - hidden

Johnson seemed concearned by Angel's reaction, but didn't say anything. His good mood shaken, momentarily, he watched, in awkward silence, as she finished heading off to bed. Then, in a somewhat more subdued manner, he looked around one last time to see if anyone else had any requests before he left.

[Abbandon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway, Room 6
Friday 8/22/70 12:00:00
Cerberus - street samurai
PAN - hidden(one earbud, and sub mic)

Thursday 8/21/70 00:07:00

Once Johnson had left and they had split up the bonus cash amongst themselves Cerberus headed back out to the van to bring in some stuff. Walking up to the rear doors he activated the doors and climbed in. He stuffed the medkit, the LMG ammo, the assault rifle, and whatever was left of the loot from the clinic into the bag that held his/Johnson's disassembled IWK. Looking through the bins he also found some gun cleaning equipment that probably went with the drone. He grabbed it and added it to the bag also.

Hefting the bag over one shoulder he closed the van and walked back to the room.

Thursday 8/21/70 4:07:00

Cerberus procured one side of a round table that was in the room they all shared, the one that Fortunato was busy warding. He had grabbed a towel from the bathroom and began stripping and cleaning the assault rifle, his pistol, and the IWK. As he cleaned them he looked for any possable hidden RFID tags. He knew there was some that can not be burned out with a bug squisher, indeed he had baught some and was intending to bug his own stuff so that if they ever got stolen he could find them but that was before he was attacked in his own apartment and lost most of his posessions. The thought of losing his bike still infuriated him and just before he smashed his fist through the table he caught himself and took some deep breathes.

By the time he was finished cleaning his weapons and the ones others had given him Fortunato was done with the ward. He didnt see anything different but if the mage said it was warded that was good enough for him. Fort announced he was hitting the sack shortly after and Cerberus still had some injuries nagging at him to so he was going to follow suit, but first he pulled out his comms keyboard and texted Angel, the poor kid barely lasted till the end of Johnson goodbye speech before crashing...

<<@Angel: Hey I know you probably have your own things to deal with but I just wanted to ask you again to please see if you can find out the status of my SIN "Bob Michaels" and what type of heat it may have on it. You know and if there is anything you need help with after this I will owe you one. I guess I already owe you for a few times lol but this will just be one more for the pile.>>

Cerberus walked over to the medkit and took out a bottle of what sounded like pills and popped 4 of them in his mouth and then placed the bottle back, he didnt need no machine to tell him some asparin would do him wonders. Afraid of crushing the rollout cot he had been given with his enormous weight he grabbed the pillow and blanket and took up a spot on the floor to get some rest. He actually preferred sleeping on hard surfaces. There was something primal about it.

Friday 8/22/70 06:07:00

It took two hours just to fall asleep, even if bullets dont enter your body because of your armored jacket they still hurt. Thank god he could completely tune out the rest of the world whenever he wanted to, with just a few thoughts his eyes and ears flatlined and he was floating in a black void of peace and tranquility. Except for all the damage that had been done to his body and he didnt ever want to lose touch with those sensation he had worked way to hard to get his body into the kind of shape it was in, a warriors body.

The next thing he knew he was in a mixed martial arts ring the shape of an octagon with 8 foot high fencing as walls, the poles and corners covered withpadding. He was fighting somebody he had never seen before, it felt good to because he was totaly beating the crap out of the person. Thats what gave it away that he was dreaming, he was watching himself from the perspective of somebody else and yet he could feel everything that his actual body was doing. *Crack*, a left cross to his opponents face made the guy crumple like a cheap folding chair under a fat lady's ass. Looking down he could see that the guys face was caved in on his right side where the punch had landed. It look like his punch had fractured the guys cheek bone/eye socket. Kyle was rushing into the ring and jumped on his shoulder as Cerberus held him and spun around like they did after every match won. Cerberus was way to heavy to be lifted by Kyle or jump on his shoulder..

Then he was on the street on a sidewalk twirling somebody who wasnt Kyle around on his shoulder and then slammed them down to the ground hard. The person had rolled over onto their stomach from the impact and blood was already running out of the head area. It looked like a little girl judging by the pink hair. Why was he body slamming a little girl onto the sidewalk?? His rush of victory was now turned to confusion as he reached down to grab the should of the little girl and flip her over....

It was the young elf girl he had recently been running with, deader than a door nail. Blood was coating one side of her face and her hair as it continued to poor out of her head. Now his confusion turned to panic. What had he done? He didnt mean to hurt her...Then there was a hand on his shoulder and turning him around violently. It was Rocky. Rocky threw a punch at him but his wired reflexes kicked in and easily let him avoid the punch. He grabbed Rocky's head with both his hands and brought him into a Mua Thai clench and yanked his head down as hard as he could as he leaped straight up and drove his knee into his associates face.

Rocky slumped to the ground unconsciencous and he followed him. Mounting him he started raining down punches until Rocky's face literally turned to goo under his bone laced fist's assault. Cerberus felt as if he had lost control of his own actions. He was reviled by what he had just done but he couldnt stop his fists from hammering Rocky. As he looked around for an explanation he saw his self in the reflection of a shops window covered in the blood of his friends. It was enough to make him stop and stand and take in the entire view of his body. More panic.

Then something burst from the skin of his arms as he stood there looking at himself, it was wires. Hundreds of wires burst from the skin all over his body and began wrapping themselves around his body turning him into something inhuman. He looked like a machine as he raised his arm towards the window pane in disbelief as skin was tranformed into metal and wires. His focus went to his eyes which began to dim from their usually bright neon green into a barely visable green and then finally to nothing as they winked out of existance.

Cerberus woke up with a jolt, mentally turning on his eyes and ears he sat up and saw that it was early morning and only a few people were awake. He knew he had been dreaming but that didnt change the feelings he had felt. He knew there was a point at which people could get to much cyber. Maybe he was to close. He made a mental note to himself to look into getting some better grade shit and maybe even start switching some things over to bioware. Looking down at his arms and hands he shivered.

Friday 8/22/70 12:00:00

On his way to the bathroom after waking up he looked around the room and noticed that Angel was missing. Checking his comm revealed an icon, seeing as they were in a firefight or anything he opened his eyes up to the matrix and fed the message into his eyes. "I did a search to find any info out there on your stuff. Here is a file containing what I found, plus another list of nodes that might contain more reliable info. I can get in, but not for IOU's. You have my contact info in the message I left the team. Good luck.". Clicking on the icon of which he had never seen before on his commlink opened up a file, "Search on "Bob Michaels", his apartment, his accounts, his bike:

Three guys were found gunned down in Micheals' apartment, the most grisly of many signs that a major gun battle had taken place there. The bodies had been stripped of valuables, and all were IDed as known mafia enforcers associated with the Finnegan Family.

Michaels is a suspect. His bike has been identified and impounded.". Pounding the close button on the file, the icon on his commlink disappeared. Fuck fuck fuck!! How the hell am I going to get my bike out of Lone Star's stupid impound lot!! What a god damn shitty way to start my day out. It isnt enough that I've lost two months rent and most of my earthly posessions but now my bike on top of everything else! God damn it, I had that bike ever since I started working at Doc Wagon. That fat italian slob piece of shit!

Cerberus's rage was boiling over and it took everything in him to stay in control and not start smashing the shit out of the room they were all staying in. He angrily walked to the bathroom. After taking his morning dump and washing his hands it was time to get some things done. His body felt better than ever and everything looked to be healing nicely. He had freaking slept for 25 hours.

First was the warm up and he had alot of energy to burn. Putting on his combat jacket over his bare body, he made sure he had his knives and then left the room. He spent the next half hour running around the truck stop and working up a nice sweat. Seeing an overweight black guy who looked old moving supplys from the back of his truck to the back area's of one of the stores he ran over and offered to help. The guy was skeptical at first having a half naked heavily muscled troll offer to help but Cerberus easy going manner easily convinced the guy and they talked as he offloaded the truck or the guy.

After he was finished he wished the guy well and headed back to the room with some fatigued arms, back and legs from moving all that crap. Knocking on the door lightly he was let back in where he proceeded to finish off with some military push-ups and chair dips. It sure as hell was no day at the gym but he had worked up a nice sweat and took a shower to clean off and try to regain some semblance of calm.

Now it was time to spend some of that money Johnson had given them. His stomach dictated the first place he went. He found a restaurant serving breakfast and ordered enough food for a large family. It had been a day maybe a day and half since he ate last and that was junk food mostly. He dove in an devoured every bit of fake eggs, fake bacon, and unfortunately real water. He followed that up with the pancakes and hasbrowns and finished it all off with some salad littered with cheeses, meats, and crutons. He was stuffed and he didnt want to even think about how much heavier he had just gotten which could easily be measured in pounds.

Paying the bill with cash he smiled at the truckers who seemed to be disgusted by how much he had eaten and walked out and looked around for the convenient store. Truckers couldnt stop and goto the local stripmall or retail store to buy crap so truck stops were usually well equipped with everything the average person would need. Looking around he found some Glasses with image link, a trode net, a couple of T shirts and some very basic jeans, some boxer/brief undies, another large hockey sized duffle bag that had a nice metal frame to make it hold its shape. He also picked up an el-cheapo commlink w/ a sim module, and a troll sized AR glove. Paying in cash again he heads back to the room with his loot.

Putting on a pair of fresh clothes he unwraps all his new crap and stuffs the AR glove in the pocket of his armored jacket and wears the new glasses. He puts everything else into his new duffle. Johnson said they had one more day on the room but Cerberus was eager to try and rebuild his life and it looked like everyone was on there own.

[adamu]

Southbound on I-5 headed for University of Seattle
Thursday 8/21/70 01:02:43

No one had had any more immediate requests for Adam, although Sledge had said something cryptic about a shopping list - sounded like he'd be earning his keep as the business side of the team soon enough.

His mind was indeed racing with things that needed doing as he left them to rest up and headed back out to his bike. He was barely on the road before he'd fired off two voice mails.

The first was to Francesca: "Looks like I just got the weekend off. Call me. -Sugar Lips"

The second was to the person Franco had connected him with to get his fake SIN and licenses.

"Hey Nym. I've got this friend, who is looking for a makeover. Thought I'd pass the buisness along, if you're interested. Call me back on a secure connection and we'll talk."

Halfway back to his dorm, a return message came in: "I don't do third parties without meeting the second parties first. You want to make introductions, lets introduce each other. There's a place on the docks - Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits. Dress down, come armed, and have the goods I made for you open on your PAN. I'll be there around noon today if you're serious about expanding the scale of our business."

[BlackHat]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 02:15:11
Smith - Johnson
PAN - hidden

Smith was glad to hear that his contact didn't want to meet right away. Noon was much more reasonable. Before he was ready to meet anyone, he needed some sleep. He took a few seconds to spoof his commcode, and then was back on the road.

Sometime after 2, he found himself back at his dorm. Sauntering up to the doors, he caught the attention of the bored girls that had the unfortuante part-time job of checking IDs, this late at night. He flashed them a smile, and they opened the door without even asking for his ID - they both knew Adam, and knew that he lived there.

It seemed as if they wanted to chit-chat for a while, to break the monotony of their jobs, but Adam was just too tired - so he politely made an excuse for himself, and said he would catch up with them another night.

Adam Lear's Dorm Room
Thursday 8/21/70 10:03:41
Adam Lear - Student
PAN - hidden

Adam fell out of bed when his commlink began ringing. As he did, he noticed he was a few minutes late for his class. He groaned, not wanting to miss class two days in a row, but at least his alternating schedule would be forgiving about it. Yesterday, he missed his Monday-Wednesday classes, and today he would miss his first Tuesday-Thursday class. Not that big a deal, if it was a once-in-a-while thing. Unfortunately, Adam was beginning to think his 'promotion' wasn't going to be very forgiving about his continued-education.

It didn't really matter, he had to meet Nym at noon, anyway. Even if he left now, and caught most of his class, he would have to duck out early in order to make it to the docks by noon. Hell, with lunch-time traffic, he might not even have time for that. The good news was that the class he was missing was Modern Japanese History, and that he had a pretty good relationship with the TA, Harper. He made a note to call her and see if she could catch him up this weekend.

Checking the caller-ID, Adam saw that his wake-up call was from somebody who, at the moment, was less-than-urgant, and he let his voice-mail pick it up. As he lay back down on his bed, still a little achey from the previous day, he thought about how things had played out, recently - and how long he could possibly keep it up. If he was able to find some new jobs, not connected to the mob, he might actually be able to get himself out from underneith Franco's thumb - but, as it was, living a double-life was taking a serious toll on both of them.

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 12:03:41
Smith - Client
PAN - Open, as requested

Smith arrived at Dirty Dick's just a little bit later than he had aimed for. With luck, this Nym guy wouldn't be an asshole about punctuality. Before walking inside, he set his work commlink to publicly display his ID, just as Nym had requested - then he hurried inside, hoping he wasn't too late.

[Konsaki]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway, Room 6
Thursday 8/21/70 07:18:34
Caittie – Technomancer - Hidden
PAN – Hidden

The morning was only just half over when the young technomancer awoke to the soft sounds of sleep that filled the air from the bed next to her. Caittie let out a sigh as she stretched her well rested body, her troubled mind picked up where it left off from hours before. At least this time she had been able to sleep on it, greatly reducing the overall effect of the stress and increasing her mind’s ability to think clearly.
She didn’t have to plan out her next immediate action though, as she sorted through her message log to find Cerberus’ third request for information on his stuff. With a quick thought, she figured that this was as good a time as any. With that, she felt herself fall into the dreamlike state she knew VR to be.

Minutes later, the elf sat on the cot, absentmindedly stroking her long braided red hair as she examined the data her sprite had pulled off the matrix. She sort of felt sorry for Cerberus after seeing the information, but there was little she could do about it. She was more interested in the news she found out on the person who had destroyed her life…
That was the point of conflict the girl was having within herself at the moment. Should she feel happy that he was dead and she was free? Should she feel disgusted at herself that she even wanted to feel happy? Should she cry because there was still no way to go back to the way things were? Should she deny all those feelings and continue on, even though there was no clear path on what to do next?

As she sat there, just stroking her hair, Caittie looked over to the sleeping ork beside her. ‘I wonder why she does this…’, the girl silently asked herself as she slowly dropped her hand to the backpack which lay beside her. Picking it up, she got up and walked into the main room.
There on the single table, she saw three barrels pointed in odd directions, their bodies identifying themselves as being owned by the sleeping cybered-up troll on the floor. The girl figured he would be in a pretty foul mood with the news she had gathered, due to his incessant requesting of it. She decided to leave a sprite with him to deliver it rather than tell him in person, feelings of self preservation kicking in at the thought.
On the small couch on the other side of the room, she recognized the slowly rising and falling form of the team’s mage. From there, she turned her gaze to one of a heavy cot holding a giant frame. Caittie let out a slight sigh as she thought about the information she sent to his commlink. It seemed to her that the mob made it a habit to mess up people’s lives.

Looking from one sleeping person to another, the teenager thought about how the entire situation, this screwed up hellish situation might have turned out to be too good to be true in a sick twisted sort of way. Hugging herself around her stomach, she started to think about it all. How this group was gathered by one man; who wasn’t even here at this moment.
She couldn’t deny that she was grateful to all these sleeping and injured people, but it still seemed too good to be true that they would help her by stopping the mob and then pay her on top of it. Something felt wrong about it all and at that moment she tightened her grip around her bare mid-drift.
‘I need to think about this… but not here…’, Caittie quickly decided as she turned to leave. As she walked towards the door, her eyes wandered on her. The pile of weaponry, some of it from the van, stirred up the instinct of self preservation again, though she felt ill at the thought of taking any of them. The most she could stomach was picking up the lone tazer from the side of the pile and putting it in her backpack.


McHugh’s, Northgate, Downtown Seattle
Thursday 8/21/70 08:50:22
Caittie – Technomancer – Hidden
PAN – Passive

Sitting in a corner booth, Caittie pecked at the warm breakfast food on the table in front of her. She had eaten some, but her appetite wasn’t there as her mind was still mulling over everything in an analytical manner. Her thoughts had finally caught up to where she was now over the course of the hour ride it took to get her from the Snohomish truck stop.
She thought about how she had left the truck stop, making sure to remove herself from the video records, and walked in the early morning sun. By the time she had reached the edge of the road, she had decided on her next sets of actions, first of which was to call a taxi to get her out of there.

Then, she sent out a message to everyone she had left asleep in the shared room. She gave it some thought before actually sending it. She didn’t want to put too much in there but thought at least they should know about how to trigger a video loop she had set in place on the hotel’s surveillance node.
<<@Team : Hey, I did some looking around on the matrix and it looks like everything might work out. With that said, I’m going to head out to get some ‘fresh air’. You can reach me through this [drop box]. Also, when you’re ready to leave, send ‘Sp3[7oR’ to {this node}. It will give you 15 minutes.>>

Thinking about it for a second, she sent a separate message directly to Johnson, <<Use this [drop box] to contact me.>> It was short, simple and to the point. She figured that she should send him some way to contact her if something came up, especially if it was about her.

From there, she had taken the taxi to Northgate, where she sat now. Taking a bite of the soy-eggs, the girl had to stop thinking about things that had happened, since she had ran through it all already… From there, the future lay before her and she needed a plan to walk down it.
“Hmm…� she sighed to herself as she looked down to the tray before her. “Maybe I should give Rebecca a call. I haven’t really thanked her for the help she gave me and she might like to know I’m ok…�, Caittie mused as she pulled up her mentor’s commcode from her mind.

[adamu]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 12:04:40


Dirty Dick's was a place that really lived up to its name. In fact, Smith couldn't decide if the worst possible ramifications of the name's imagery applied more to the place or its patrons.

Even at noon, the place was dark, it's single paned windows covered in a double-coat of grime. A thick pall of cigarette smoke made the task of the bar's dim lighting even more hopeless. It was enough to make Smith wish for a low-light enhancement on his contacts; as it was the place looked like it was full of fireflies, as the lit tips of smokes all around the place stood out in relief against the gloom.

The smoke, however, was not enough to match the scent of piss. Looking around for the source, Smith felt a slight breeze and realized the smell was wafting in from the alley outside through cracks between the raw planks that made up the wall. Every once in a while a rotted out spot of wooden floor allowed the smell of salt and decay to reek upwards - the place was jerry-rigged onto the side of an old jetty, and half hung out over the water.

The denizens were sporting their share of PANs, but few revealed any actual information. There were a few racial epithets, some boasts, and a lot of "dating profiles" that Smith couldn't believe any woman alive would respond to...until he saw the waitresses....

The instructions to dress down may or may not have been saving his life - his casual college attire made him feel like a tuxedo-clad diplomat who'd headed for a state dinner but ended up at a pig farm. For all that, however, no one seemed to pay much attention to him - no one mistook him for easy prey - if there was one thing he was good at, it was projecting the aura he wanted to convey. And lately, he'd had a lot of practice doing so in disreputable environments like this one.

But it was only a few moments before a large form in the far corner waved him over. Soon he was standing in front of a table with a cheap synthwood top covered in water rings and soy pretzel crumbs. Seated on the other side was an ork.

The first detail that jumped out about the guy was that his lower tusks were filed to points. And he had very long fingernails - not style long, just hadn't been clipped (or cleaned) in months long. He used one to scratch a shaggy face. He wore a corduroy jacket that was once brown but the color was worn off, leaving off-white patches fading into yellowed dun. Under that was a dress shirt that Smith couldn't really see but knew instinctively was filthy. There was a tie knotted about his neck, but pulled well away from his throat, exposing unfastened top buttons and thick curly chest hair that made its way up the ork's neck and threatened to beseige his Adam's apple.

His cybereyes were jet black balls that protruded from the sockets just enough to be weird.

"You can keep calling me Nym. Everyone does. I don't need to know your handle, but I need to get you well enough that you have some accountability. Sit down."

[BlackHat]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 12:05:20
Smith - Client
PAN - Open, as requested

Smith smiled and sat down nonchalantly. He tried not to think about what he might be sitting in, or the fact that the smell of this place was going to follow him home. That was one advantage of riding around Seattle on a bike - the wind and rain helped clean the city off of you. That used to bother Adam, but lately, as Smith he has been finding himself glad to be rid of many of the places he has been.

He leaned forward in his chair, putting one elbow on the table, and the other over the back of his chair. In a typical college-bar, his posture might have looked like he was just relaxing and trying to look cool, but in a place like this, Adam looked like he didn't want to turn his back to anyone in the room. "I'd like to think that I'm on your side, and that I come here in good faith - so, ask away... or would you rather I begin by throwing my proposition out on the table, and you can decide if its worth going through the twenty-questions routine, or not?"

[JDragon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 00:33:02
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky followed the others over to the rooms Johnson had secured for the team. He sat quietly as they waited for Angel to do her thing and then Johnson handed out the cash and laid out his plans for the next few days.

When it was offered Rocky took his payment for killing Louie, which he would have done anyways to keep himself alive and then took the bonus spoils of war, that had been collected in the last 48 hours. Or was it a week, Rocky really wsn't sure anymore, he just wanted some down time to relaxe.

With the big business done, people started to go about their own things. As normal Rocky found a spot on the floor where he could watch the front door and relaxed, slowly leaning againt the wall, not wanting to go through it.

"I'll keep an eye on things for a while, but I'll need some sleep sooner or later. A shot a the shower would be great when others are done."

<<Text @Angle:: If you have a chance can you check out my second SIN? I want to see if its been burned. I know the original is done, but here's hoping.>> Rocky included the details on the second fake SIN he had picked up back when he started rebuilding his life after the fight had gone bad.

With that done Rocky started to work on his breathing and trying to relax. He was beat up and bruised from the evenings work, and while the wounds were different than what he got in the ring he wasn't in much worse shape overall.

He lost track of time as he sat focusing on his breathing and centering himself, watching and waiting for someone to come through the door.

Thursday 8/21/70 06:41:42

The rest of the room was quite, except for Cerberus's snoring in the other room. While his mind much much clearer, his body had stiffened up after sitting in the same spot for over five hours. It along with his wounds complained as he slowly stood and streched. This seemed like good as time as any to get cleaned up, so Rocky made his way to the small bathroom and closed the door before turning on the light. Looking in the mirror, he saw he looked as bad as he felt, but better than he did 6 or 7 hours after a normal fight. It took a while to remove the bandages from earlier, but once that was done he was able to take a long hot shower, which was a great thing to be able to do.

Once done with the shower he rinsed out his clothes and tried to hang them out of the way. Using several towels he covered him self and left the bathroom. Back in the main room he went to the medkit and opened it up, turning the voice instructions off. He had messed with this thing enough in the last few days to understand how it worked pretty well. He put clean bandages on his wounds and then hooked up the medkits IV, making sure to turn off the pain killers. Grabing the extra blanket and pillow, Rocky found an empty spot on the floor and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Friday 8/22/70 08:21:42

Rocky woke feeling better, but as was becoming the norm, his body was stiff and it did not want to move. With a little work he got it moving and streched out. The upside of having slept 24 hours was his clothes had dried which he changed into while taking care of other needs in the bathroom after sleeping for a day.

As much as he wanted to get real food, Rocky opted for the stuf that had been picked up and stored in the room as he didn't want to be reconized and cause problems for himself or the others.

Checking his comm he saw a reply from Angel, it looked like his second SIN was burned too. Well that just sucked, more money down the drain such as it was. He opened his comm and deleted his orignal SIN and the accomanying liscenses. He decided to keep the second until he could get a new one, cause one that may be burned is better than nothing at this point. Not like he was planning on doing anything that he would need it for anytime soon. He droped a quick thanks back to Angel and then he put a quick message together to send Johnson, hoping he could help him out with replacing his SIN and other documents.

<<Text @Johnson:: Sorry I didn't mention this earlier, but it looks like I need some new doc's. My extra SIN is known so I donwant to get burned. I'll need a SIN, with the Awakened tag, A conceal/Carry for the Warhawk as well as my EX ammo. I'd like something that will cover most run ins with the Star as long as I'm not caught in the act. Also got any leads on a plastic surgeon? My face is going to get me in trouble soon if I'm not careful. BTW I don'tcare about the name. Thanks Rocky>>

After eating and switcing out bandages Rocky went back to his mental exercises, working to better understand his abilities and how he could benifit from them. After a few hours he had learned several things and better undersood his connection to the magic of the world. He was able to focus this knowledge is several directions, the easiset had been focusing the damage his hands would do when striking someone a little further. The second took more time but was worth it, he found with a slight adjustment to his focus he would be able to better pentrate peoples body armor and natural hardening much like the large bullets his Warhawk used. The third came as a shock and was a different focus than he had explored before, but after the events of the last few weeks seemed like a good thing to be able to do. While not completly understanding how it all worked, Rocky realized that him using his powers would leave an astral signature, and now he would be able to manipulate that signature so it could not be used to trace him. As a test he went in and scrambled how his aura would look to those lookingat it. I'll have to talk to Fort about this one to see if he can help me understand this stuff.

A few minutes later Rocky came out of his trance and then sat back waiting to see what the rest of the day would bring.

[BlackHat]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 12:15:30
Smith - Client
PAN - Open, as requested

"It's more the other way around," Nym responded. "'Twenty-questions' is going to tell me whether or not its worth going through the 'business' routine."

"Odd, but intriguing. Fire away." Smith replied, with a smile. A thought occured to him just as he was about to reply, and without really thinking it through, he figured he would give it a shot.

"Oh, I don't care much what we talk about. Why don't you pick a topic?"

"I have. That's how the game works." Smith brought his other arm around, seeming less concearned with whatever was going on behind him once Nym took the bait and began the game.

"Oh, so you were serious?" Other than a raised eyebrow, Nym's black eyes telegraphed very little of his reaction.

Smith decided to try the man's patience, just a little. "Yes. 19."

The eyebrow came down. "Look, if you're not interested in talking, you're not interesting."

"That's not exactly a question, but good to know. You wanted to get to know me, I figured a friendly game of twenty-questions would break the ice - then we could talk about whatever you like. If you're not a fan of games, though, I'm open to suggestions...."

Nym took a second to respond. "The games one plays can tell you a lot about a person."

Smith became visibly pleased that Nym didn't just shoot down the idea. This would be a lot more interesting than making chit-chat with a stranger while dancing around anything personal, or work-related. "Again, that's not a question. That's more of an observation. Much like the statement that this game is telling me that you don't quite grasp the rules." Smith decided if he was going to keep the guy's interest, he would need to throw him a bone. "I'll give you a hint. I'm thinking of a name." After a short pause, he added. "It isn't mine."

"Fine." As he had hoped, the mention of names seemed to generate a little interest. "Is this a first-name, nickname, pet-name, surname, or something else?"

"I suppose you could call it a nickname. 18."

"Female?"

"Of course. 17." Smith leaned back in his seat a little bit.

"Are they a good driver?"

That one caught Smith off-guard. It seemed out of left-field, but it was a fair question. "Average, across sexes. 16."

"Do they know a lot about computers?"

"Yes. 15. " Wow. This guy is either good, or runs into a lot of hackers.

"Does she have brown hair?"

"Nope. 14." Smith was pretty curious as to how Nym was going to use most of this information to guess at some hacker's handle.

"Is she dedicated?"

"Usually. 13."

"Does she go to church?"

"No. 12."

"Is it an old name?"

"Depends on your definition of 'old'. I'd say, probably not. 11."

"Does she lie?"

"Yes. Who doesn't? 10."

"Is she skilled in visual arts?"

"Um, yeah. Graphic-design and that sort of thing. 9."

"Does she have a job?"

"No. 8." Smith wasn't sure if Nym thought he was gaining ground, or not.

"Is she spiritual?"

"Didn't you already ask that?"

"No. I asked if she went to church."

"Ah, okay, well, I think the answer is still no. 7."

"Is she middle-aged?"

"Nope. 6."

"Would she lend you money?"

"Yes. 5."

"Does she go to school?"

"Yes. 4." Smith tried not to let his surprise show. Actually, after thinking about it a moment, it made sense that Nym would ask.

"Is she outgoing?"

"No. 3."

"Is she an only child?"

"Yes. 2."

"Does she wear glasses?"

"No. 1."

"Is the nickname 'Kat'?"

"Close." Smith was very impressed.

Nym mearly shrugged, "So, is this the person you wanted to come speak to me about?"

Smith shook his head, "Nah, you might have been able to guess that name."

"That's good, because you wern't doing a lot of the talking, there, so I'm not quite in the mood to start talking business."

"Then we should talk about something we both know something about...."

....

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 13:12:10
Smith - Client
PAN - Open, as requested

Smith and Nym had been talking for almost an hour, and Smith was actually finding him to be quite a likeable guy. It didn't seem to matter what topic Smith shifted the conversation to, Nym was able to keep them both engadged long enough for the conversation to naturally lead itself towards another topic. It wasn't just his wordsmithing (although, that was more eloquent than the setting would suggest) it was the way he seemed honestly interested in hearing what Smith had to say about things, and honestly not-interested in discussing either of their private lives.

From time to time, he would nod, and say approving, or encouraging things like "I feel I am getting to know you a little better." Near the later part of the hour, his comments became a little more enlightening, and at the same time creepy - like "You are starting to seem a like a real person now." It reminded Smith of something an insane murderer might say to his captive before strangeling it.

While that's not the sort of comment you would want to hear on a first date, Smith found it stragely relieving - given that he was a real person, and not a faceless negotiator with a blank-slate past. Still, he began to wonder if he was giving too much away about himself. The idea popped briefly into his head of some other down-on-his-luck Runner, squatting in some dingy part of Seattle with his name, and the cover-identity of an impossibly lucky and good-natured college student.

His daydream dissolved when Nym spoke up against next. "I feel like we are acquainted. That makes you accountable. What business shall we discuss?"

The directness made Smith sit up in his chair, as if caught napping by a professor. "I'm glad I was up to your standards. I've got a couple of ideas you might be interested in, so let me pitch them to you..."

"Like I said on the phone. I've got a 'friend'. Two, actually. And, they're more like employees, at the moment. You see, I've found myself managing a group of SINless 'problem-solvers,' and, well, I'll get back to that. The point is, they're in need of some new identities, and the paperwork to go with them. Now, I can provide a lot of services, but as you well know, that isn't one of them. So, I figure, you do good work, and if you'd like some more work, maybe we could help each other out...."

"That's... what I do, these days. Identify what two people need, and try to find a way they can both come out a head. That, and, well, try to put people with problems in touch with people who can solve them."

"I'm sure you follow that what I'm doing here qualifies as both."

"So, here's what I am thinking. What you can provide me is pretty obvious. I'm going to need IDs, I'm thinking three of them, and the licenses to go with them, probably another three. Conceal-carries, mostly. Nothing special, and one of the SINs will be basically disposable." Smith put on another friendly smile, cause this was going to be the trickiest part of the sale. "And, of course, I'm going to need a good deal. They're paying, not me, but since I pay them, the distinction is sort of meaningless."

"Of course, I wouldn't expect you to do me any favors, for nothing, just yet. We just met. So, as for what I can provide for you in exchange, that's really all up to you and your needs. Bottom-line. If you're not intereted in anything I have to offer, there's always cash, but I was hoping you and I could arrange something with a brighter long-term outlook. Something that would help both of our bottom-lines."

"At the risk of sounding vain, I make a pretty good salesman, middle-man, and judge-of-character, as I am sure you do, but you seem to value your anonymity, not to mention you seem to be in no big hurry to expand your social circle. I, on the other hand, live or die by my contacts, and am used to taking risks on strangers. Letting me play broker, with clientelle, like my 'friends', that you're not interested in dealing with, directly, means a safer work-environment for you. 'Insurance' rates go down, employee-moral goes up, and we can pass the savings onto your customers, drawing more business away from the competition. Simple economics, and everybody wins."

"Which brings me to my second business-proposition, reguardless of your interest in this particular sale, both of us seem to be in position where we meet a lot of 'interesting' people. In my case, people in need of new identities, and people who can't seem to hold onto the identities they have - people in need of a guy with your skills, and people who are likely to return when they inevitably burn their second-chances. In your case, people leaving their old lives behind, and people who are looking to start new ones - people that are either looking for no-questions-asked work, or looking for people willing to do no-questions-asked work, for them."

"In either case, a little quid-pro-quo makes all of our lives easier,." Smith layed his hands out on the table, "and if you're interested, I think we could bring one another a lot of new business."

"So, what do ya think?"

[adamu]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 13:14:00

"I think I like to deal with people directly. I have no need of a go-between." The ork tried to keep his face straight and disinterested, but at the part about mutually expanding their circles of contacts, Smith had clearly seen his face light up for a moment - jet black eyeballs notwithstanding. "Still, it cannot hurt to widen one's range of acquaintances. I would indeed appreciate your sending trustworthy business my way. And since you, yourself, appear likely to be a high-volume customer, perhaps we can discuss some sort of kickback."

[BlackHat]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 13:14:10
Smith - Client
PAN - Open, as requested

"Likewise, if you spot any business, or talent, that I can use."

"As far as this particular transaction goes, since you enjoy meeting people, would you rather schedule another meeting where my friends can attend? or would you rather work out the details of the job, right now - so we can both get back to work?"

[adamu]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 13:14:10

"No, no. Time presses. And I enjoy meeting business peers, not scum off the street." Considering his appearance, Smith found that comment ironic. The ork continued, "Let's just get this hammered out."

The two spent the next ten minutes in a much more efficient business mode, and the fledgling Shadow-broker wrangled himself a much more favorable price-structure than he had hoped. Once the wrinkles of the biometric data transfer were ironed out, they went their separate ways.

Just as Smith was getting on his bike, his comm pinged with a voice mail from Francesca.

[BlackHat]

Dirty Dick's Fine Food and Spirits
Thursday 8/21/70 13:34:10
Smith - Client
PAN - Open, as requested

Smith was glad to hear he wasn't too far off of the mark, when proposing that he be go-between - at least where he current team was concearned. It also meant he got to handle the finances, and negotiate the price. When all was said and done, he was rather pleased with himself. His only regret was that he hadn't gotten such a good deal on his own SIN, just a few months ago.

A little more time was spent figuring out what biometrics would be needed for the SINs - luckily, Smith had remembered what was required of him, when he got his, and had the data on-hand. Nym seemed to appreciate the efficiency, but conversation quickly moved on to payment method. Johnson had taken some cash with the biometrics, but didn't bring it with him. He was, however, ready to pay in digital cred, all wrapped up and good to go, but the two men haggled out an arrangement that made them both feel more comfortable. Half now, up front. The other half would be delivered upon receipt of the goods.

After shaking hands to seal the deal, Smith headed out. He didn't even make it across the parking lot when he got a voicemail message from Francesca. <<"Hey it's me. Sorry, but this girl's gotta work work work this weekend. Don't take this or anything else as a brush-off. You're really cute. Call again next week, if you still want to.">>

He sat on the side of his bike and punched back his response. <<"No big deal. Something told me this would be a busy work-week for you. If any of it is something that I, or the people I represent, could help you with, you've got my number. Otherwise, I'm sure we'll cross paths soon enough. Take care.">>

Then he sent messages to the trolls. <<"Good news on your special-orders. I'll let you know when things are ready.">>

[Konsaki]

McHugh’s, Northgate, Downtown Seattle
Thursday 8/21/70 08:58:14
Caittie – Technomancer – Hidden
PAN – Passive

As the girl sat at the corner booth in the generic McHugh’s, she seemed to be staring off into space. This bothered no one, on this overcast cool morning, as one doing so was normally doing something in their own private augmented reality. This was so, as Caittie watched and felt a window open up in front of her, hanging there in midair as if like magic.
Time passed as she felt the connection going through the redirections needed to cross the distance, but then the window flashed a waiting signal, notifying the redhead that the connection was established. Now she was just waiting for Rebecca to accept the connection. Then she blinked as the window hanging in the air faded into a scene she knew to expect, one that misted the technomancer’s eyes as she remembered the last time she saw it.

Pulling her view back, she changed her perspective into a third person view, looking at the scene as a whole instead of through her avatar’s eyes. The NAN like firegrounds were dark as the virtual night surrounded everything. Faint glimpses of huts and totems could be seen flickering in the distance as the sole firelight flickered and danced as fires often do. This time though, there was another source of illumination, her very avatar cast off a pink glow from her wings, which added a softer more subtle but constant light to the scene.
Looking at ‘herself’ from afar, Caittie beheld the avatar as if for the first time. In reality, it was the first time she had really seen the cyber angel from outside of a first person view. In a moment of wondering, she willed her wings together and all of the miniature wings on her back merged into a pair of greater wings, though she knew they were still six separate casting an illusion of two.

As the teenager continued to examine her avatar and the scene, she questioned the fact that she hadn’t heard from her mentor yet. The connection was complete, yet she saw nothing and heard nothing other than the dancing lights and crackling of the fire. ‘She has to be around here… Why would she hide herself from me?’, Caittie asked herself.
She let a little more time pass; patiently waiting for the one she wanted to see to reveal herself. After a bit though, restlessness won out over being patient. Holding a hand out, runes of power started writing in the air around the angel. In what seemed like an instant, the runes flashed while the glowing wings of the avatar beat down, casting an energy wave out in all directions.

Within the next few moments, a Native American woman appeared next to the angel, causing Caittie to jump a little. She quickly calmed her nerves though as she recognized the woman to be the one she was looking for, though she didn’t quite expect Rebecca to be examining her avatar so thoroughly.
“I see you finally dispelled my shadow�, the raven haired Indian said as she continued to look on at the angel. “I also see you’ve changed since… It’s good to see you, Caittie�, she finished with a slight smile. The only response the angel had was to quickly move over and hug the woman, Caittie wiping at her misty eyes in the real world.
“It’s good to see you, too. I thought I never would with all that’s happened. I was so scared! The world was going crazy…�, Caittie replied after a minute before moving back from the older female. With an indication from Rebecca, the pair took a seat along the campfire on the fallen logs, with the younger technomancer continuing, “Without your help I don’t think I’d be here right now. For that I can’t thank you enough!� A second later, Caittie watched the numbers in her AR change as she transferred 500 nuyen to Rebecca, “I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can spare right now.�

The dark haired woman’s eyes widened a bit as she noticed the balance change, quickly replying with a smile, “Well, that’s surprising. Thank you, though you really didn’t have to. I’m just happy you’re ok.� She continued with a slightly serious tone, “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened out there?�
At that, the angel’s shoulders drooped a bit as it brought the past couple of days back to the forefront of her mind. After a few seconds, she raised her head to look into the deep blue eyes across the way, “I… I can tell you, but just prepare yourself for it. Also keep in mind that I owe some of the people who helped me, so I’ll protect their privacy.� She saw Rebecca reply with a nod and a signal to continue. “Ok, well after we last talked and you helped me with my identity problem…�


McHugh’s, Northgate, Downtown Seattle
Thursday 8/21/70 09:46:51
Caittie – Technomancer – Hidden
PAN – Passive

“…and now I’m left thinking of what I want to do with my shattered life�, the angel finished, her avatar mimicking the physical as she wiped her eyes. Silence reigned over the area, save for the ambient noise of the fire, as the pair let what was said sink in. The veil was broken a bit later as Rebecca offered up, “Have you thought about what you want to do now?�
“Yeah… sort of…�, the pink haired girl replied apprehensively. “I’d like to continue going to school, but high school is out. I don’t think I’d fit in there anymore�, she continued with, raising her head to look at the night sky. “I guess that leaves college as the only option left… but I’d like for you to make sure I can go as ‘Caittie Dreamer’. I mean, be able to live a ‘life’ with this�, Caittie decided as she looked over towards Rebecca.

“I’m sure I can arrange something to fix you up. You want to do the whole thing, I mean start out as a Freshman?�, her mentor asked back. With a nod, Caittie answered, “Yes, from the start. Also, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think I could get another identity, just in case something comes up?� Blue eyes blinked, as Rebecca registered what her friend was asking, then after thinking a bit, she replied, “I think I can do that too. I just need to know what name you would like.�
“Um…�, the angel thought out loud as she tried to think up a name. “How about ‘Kitoria McCree’? I always liked my mother’s maiden name.� Rebecca’s response was a smile and, “I agree, it’s a good name.�

After that, the elder woman stood from the log she was sitting on, brushing her raw leather outfit off slightly. “I’m sorry to say, but I need to be going soon. I’ve got another class starting up in a few minutes and it’s rather intensive. I’m afraid I can’t talk and attend at the same time. Feel free to give me a call if you need to talk though�, Rebecca said as she moved over and gave a sisterly hug to the angel. Caittie smiled sheepishly and replied back, “Ok, sorry for talking so much. Thanks for everything… I don’t know what I’d do without your help.�
With that, both finished their goodbyes and the connection was dropped, leaving Caittie wiping her eyes in the same corner booth that she started in. After a minute, she looked down at her cold food and the slowly crowding McHugh’s. Deciding that she had sat at this place long enough, she cleaned up and went outside, only to ask herself, “So… now what do I do?�

[DireRadiant]

Truck Stop, Snohomish Monroe Highway, Room 6
Friday 8/22/70 02:41:17
Sledge - Silent
PAN - Hidden

She hadn't left the room since unloading a rack of Neapolitan nutrition bar meals, cherry flavored hydration paks, some flats, and a sundry few toiletry articles from the machine in the hospitality section of the hallway leading to the room. Other then commanding her agent software to alert her if anyone other then the team entered the room, she'd just sat in the chair, cocked and loaded shotgun across her lap, backed into the corner, assembled sledge hammer within reach of her other hand.

Every six hours she checked her wound, giving it a good clean, and twice she'd gone and taken a shower when Rocky was awake and in the room.

The shower helped her relax a bit, and noone was going to notice the little bit of extra saline content as it washed away her tears.

Almost time to go back to work.

<<@Sugar Lips:: We need better equipment.

Medic, and or access to a medical facility, capable of minor cosmetic jobs, and some major cyber upgrades.
Armorer, and or access to an armory and gun range
Mechanic, and or access to a garage
Electronics tech and gear, access to a hardware shop
Talismonger, access to a an alchemical lab * Check with the person who needs this.

Commlinks and communication gear, mikes, ear buds, glasses
Ear and Eye enhanced buds and glasses w/ smart links, image links, flare comp and either thermo of low light
personal and mounted Sensors, cameras, audio, radar, MAD, cyberware scanners
skinlinks, trodes other gear.
Software, top end encryption, decryption and scanning software
Sat links
Jammers, directional
Wheels, various
Rotodrones
iballs and insect drones
Tag erasers
Sec tags, stealth tags
Biomonitors
Armored clothing, w/ electrical, fire and chem resistance
Tool kits
Medical supplies, antis, stims, tranqs, t-patches
Disguise kits
Throwaway SINs for jobs
Decent SINs for day to day
Really good rainy day SINs

Things to keep an eye for
B&E gear, right now we are more smash and grab, but a maglock passkey could make thing a lot easier.

Find some jobs or identify targets where we can make some cred and skim some gear out of it.

If you don't find something to do the trogs will just go make trouble.>>

[pragma]

Truck Stop, Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursdya 8/20/70 23:13:28
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

The trolls weren't talking and Fortunato was going to fall asleep where he stood if he wasn't doing something. He'd promised them a ward, he needed chalk. He assumed the management wouldn't take kindly to him scratching symbols into the walls.

The garish interior of the truck stop was the same as every other gas station invented. Fluorescent lights covered cheap shelves and cheaper products in a brilliant 120 Hz flicker. Fortunato cast about and eventually found the miniscule arcane supply section. It was mostly useless trinkets, dream catchers and love potions, but it did have a few boxes of grade school sidewalk chalk.

Johnson was finishing negotiations with a haggard looking, middle aged woman whose puckered face screamed "I don't give a fuck." Fortunato slunk around the back of the store then tailed his employer to the van and back to the room. He was haggard throughout the pep talk, grumbling (he hoped quietly) under his breath, then shot Johnson a quick message detailing a few spell formulae and materials he needed. He hesitated while sending it; did he really want rights to "Principles of mana ripple detection" by Surrel and Gray. He'd bashed his head against that book endlessly in school. He decided that the sooner he sent the message the sooner he'd could go to fucking bed.

Truck Stop, Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 5:21:28
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

The whole room was breathing at the same time. Everyone was sleeping hard. Fortunato, approaching his 25th hour of wakefulness, wanted nothing in the world more than to join them. He yawned, rubbed his eyes and continued scratching details into the rune he was working on. It was the last one. His eyes felt sticky and full of grit. He could smell himself.

He finished and stretched his back. A sheet of mana was stretched tight around the room, he was satisfied.

He walked over to the cot next to Caittie's bed. He'd tossed his coat across the cot earlier in the night with the arm of his dress shirt. The sleeve kept chafing on the still raw mana burns. They'd been itching the entire time he put up the ward.

He pulled a blank credstick out of his pocket and transferred :nuyen: 1,000 to it, then tucked it into the pocket of the armored jacket she'd adopted. His 10% paid, he felt justified in looking at Birnhauser's information, but he couldn't right now. He could barely see the AR display through wildly swaying contacts.

He sat down heavily on the cot. Caittie was sleeping peacefully. He was glad. He reached to tug on a corner of the covers which had come loose ...


Truck Stop, Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 10:21:28
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

... And woke up slumped into his own chest five hours later. His tongue was dry and swollen and his eyes barely opened. He ached all over. He staggered to the bathroom, washed his face and mouth with water before returning to bed, pulling off his shoes and collapsing on top of the covers.

Truck Stop, Snohomish Monroe Highway
Thursday 8/21/70 16:40:28
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato was hungry, and filthy, and very hungry. He staggered out of the bed, covers still unturned and occupied the bathroom. After a shower and a brief wrestling match with the flats dispenser he walked back into the bedroom and began idly thumbing through the news.

He fell asleep facedown on the table.

[BlackHat]

Adam Lear's Dorm Room
Thursday 8/21/70 18:34:10
Adam - Student
PAN - Hidden

Adam had managed to make it back to campus with enough time for a thourough shower and a change of clothes. He had done his best to get the smell off of him, but couldn't help but imagine that certain innocuous actions from his fellow classmates stemmed from the sudden discovery of an odd lingering smell.

On his way back to his dorm-room he left a message for Deerwalker, from his "Adam" commlink. He wasn't sure if she coudl, or would, help him, but she was pretty much the only magic-user he knew. <<"Hey, how're things going? If you're free this weekend, give me a call. I was wondering if you could enlighten me about magic a little, and maybe point me at a talismonger.">> Adam was pretty sure he had just signed up for an Earthen drum-circle or something, and probably a lecture about Mother Earth and how everything nice or delicious is sinful, but if it helped put him in touch with someone that could help Fortunato it would be time well-spent.

When he got home, he checked Smith's voicemail. "Kid, you need to be more fucking careful. Your sloppiness gave someone the wherewithal to try making my end of the deal cost-proinhibitive. What a bitch. This is comin' outta your pocket, but we'll talk about that later when we can meet face to face, which is not a good idea just yet. But listen to be rain on your parade. Ya busted yer cherry, kid. Nice fuckin' work when all is said an'done. And I have kept my end of the deal - none of the three individuals in question is currently sought by the Families. The other way is gonna be looked, on this one, if you know what I mean. The obvious condition being that they don't do nothing stupid like trying to take credit, forcin' O'Malley to do somethin'. Long as they never mention it, it won't come back to bite 'em - not from our end o' things, anyhow."

Son-of-a-bitch. The good news is, Adam could stop sleeping with a gun under his pillow. The bad news is, Franco characteristicly found something to complain about (and, in his sleep-deprived state, it sounds like Smith goofed up somewhere along the lines), and, as a result, he was getting a pay-cut. In the short-term, it wouldn't matter much. This wasn't about amassing wealth or power. In the long-term, it meant Smith was going to have to make this Shadowrunning thing profitable, and sustainable - and not expect any handouts from Franco. He could negotiate for the best salary on Franco's payroll, but the moment his back is turned, Franco can renig on the deal and there really wasn't anything he could do to defend himself. He sat down to eat some dinner and wondered if his locker would be empty tomarrow, or just cut in half. He was also burning to know who it was that just extorted a cut of his action.

Adam Lear's Dorm Room
Thursday 8/21/70 23:34:10
Adam - Student
PAN - Hidden

That evening, in an attempt to get his mind off of work, he dragged John out to the bar, where they met up with some friends. That group disbanded around ten, as many of them had classes or work the next morning, and Adam and John returned to the dorm a little earlier than usual. Despite having the next day off, Adam had a good amount of catching up to do, and he was hoping to try to get back onto a decent schedule. If worse came to worse, and he couldn't find new work for this team to do, at least he wouldn't also fail out of school.

Adam Lear's Dorm Room
Friday 8/22/70 8:55:10
Adam - Student
PAN - Hidden

His alarm woke him up, and he dragging himself through most of his morning ritual before putting on his contacts and noticing a blinking ARO indicating a message waiting for him on Smith's commlink. At first, he thought it might be Deerwalker, who he expected to have gotten back to him by now, but then he remembered he called her as Adam. Bringing up the message, he saw it was from Sledge. As promised, it was a laundry-list of goods. He certainly didn't have the budget to cover all of that crap, assuming he could even hunt it all down. He sighed and punched out a response. Normally, he would have just spoken aloud, but if John was still home, he didn't want to be overheard talking shop. <<@Sledge:: Looks good. Thanks for being on top of things. I'll look into this stuff, but expect it to trickle in as work does.>>

After that, he finished up around the room, and headed out. He intended to spend most of the day in the lab, studying and working on his project. The day wasn't nearly as productive as he would have liked, but way more productive than the rest of the week had been. Adam had never been one to buckle down, and focus on anything, so his mind kept wandering as he was trying to think of someway to make things right with Franco, some way to find the team more work, and some way to take a bite out of their wish-list with money he didn't have to spend. He went over his notes from the previous few day's work, filling them in where he could, and adding to them were new information had been found.

The FBI tangent really had him worried. He knew, or at least suspected, that O'Malley had them in his pocket - but O'Malley wasn't looking out for Adam or Smith, and the FBI didn't fuck around. Apparantly he had been sloppy, too. Between Angel effortlessly googling him and some unknown force leaning on his secret backer, Smith had lost a lot of his faith in being able to fake anonymity. The only thing he had going for him was that he had stayed in the van. Still, he'd been spotted with those same people any number of times during the last few days.

Campus Food Court
Friday 8/22/70 11:45:12
Adam - Student
PAN - Hidden

He decided he needed a break, so saved his progress, and shut down his terminal. He made his way out to the food-court to grab a snack. He ran into some people he knew from the dorm while in line, and got himself invited to their table. They were pretty friendly, and within minutes all had a pretty good opinion of him. It reminded him of how easy life used to be, when being well-liked was pretty much all it took to get by, in life.

[adamu]

Campus Food Court, The HUB, University of Seattle, University District
Friday 8/22/70 11:46:10


As Adam Lear sorted his various utensils and wrappers into the appropriate recycling bins (which he knew for a fact were all mixed together and incinerated), his comm showed an incoming call from his favorite hippy exhibitionist. Opening a channel, we was treated to a high-rez AR image. She seemed to be somewhere very steamy, and was wearing mud.

<<Hey man, heard you want me to show you some magic.>>