Chaos Theory, ---IC--- Options

[Abbandon]

Whether you came from the gutter or some middle class family or some wealthy pampered lifestyle people can be unhappy, people can want a better life by reaching for something higher or more excitement by experiencing what its like to be at the bottom or they can have lost something and just not give a shit about anything or anyone. These are just a few of the reasons why people put their lives on the line and risk running the shadows. It isnt like the trid-shows that get beamed into your house each night, no its more like the watching the news where someone has died or an accident has happened that you flip past looking for something more entertaining to watch. If people only knew.....

[Fuchs]

Tacoma, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 11:00
Stray

Her old digital clock wakes Stray with an annoying cacophony of noises. The young woman rolls over on her futon – not a real futon, but it sounds better than to „cheap mattress without bedframe“ – and waves her hand before the clock, stopping the noise after the third wave, when the sensor finally registers it. AT least the tenant below her on the first floor didn’t knock on his ceiling yet. It’s not her fault she has no cyber to get woken up in her own private AR world. She’s not about to sleep with ear buds on just for the idiot below.

Rubbing her eyes, Stray pads through her room to the shower cell, shivering slightly at the cold floor. She’s in luck, the heater hasn’t stopped working. Still, no need to press her luck, so she doesn’t lose time and starts into a few exercises, abusing an old and patched punching bag before taking a quick shower.

A cup of soycaf and a soybread flavored with some artificial substance and popped in her microwave later, she picks up her commlink and AR sunglasses. The rent isn’t due for for sometime, but that’s no reason not to earn money, and for that she needs a job.

Sitting down on her matress, Stray picks her commlink and her sunglasses up from next to her pile of clothes. She looks at the commlink, remembering the time some kiddie hacked it, before slipping her AR glasses on. She should get some better firewall, but those are expensive. Smiling, she sifts through a variety of job offers, hoping for something good.

She quickly discards the more or less veiled offers for working at brothels or worse. There’s an opening at „Pizza Express“, but they won’t hire her, not since she totalled one of the delivery vehicels. Not her fault, that limo had cut her off, but without a SIN, she had not much chances to prove that. At least no SIN also meant the idiots could not drag her to court to pay for the vehicle either, but she’s not about to show up there again. Other jobs required a SIN. There was an opening as a waitress in a cafe, but Stray has heard some bad stuff about the owner, so that’s out as well. Maybe dancing? She’s good at it, but among the clubs that hire SINless dancers, there are more than a few bad apples, and Stray would have to do some legwork to find a club where there were no complications. She could ask Mel if she could help out at the „Starlight Express“, but that’d feel like asking for a hand out, in her opinion. Not that she’s not above that, but she’d like to be more independent.

An hour later the woman puts the glasses down. No luck so far. She sends a voice message to Al, an elven fixer who usually had all sort of jobs. They tended to be a bit troublesome, but they paid better than waitressing too. Mostly.

„Hi Al. This is Stray. Do you have any open jobs?“

Waiting for Al to call back, if he did, was not productive, and her appartememnt felt a bit depressing in march, so Stray pulls on her kevlar-lined jeans and a top, slips her Predator IV – regular ammo in this area of the town - in the holster in the small of her back, and gets ready to hit up a few spots looking for work.

Before she leaves her appartement, she stashes her Remington 990 under the loose floorboard beneath her mattress - it would not be smart to let such a valuable piece on the floor where anyone with a autolockpick kit could get it – and fills a bowl of water and one of soycatfood, leaving them near the window. There’s a stray cat living in or around the building she’s taken to feed.

Tacoma, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 13:00

Giving her „Sukie Redflower“ poster a thumbs up for luck, Stray steps out of her appartement, heading towards the nearest bar, „Gorky Park“. Sometimes one could get low-key jobs there for various people with connections.

[crizh]

Mt Rainier - March 6th 2070- 0600

Voodoo

The eagle descended slowly and gracefully, circling as it came, until finally it's keen eyes spotted the perfect place and it landed.

On a jagged rock high on the shattered peak it perched, the wind ruffling it's feathers as the sunlight started to leak over the mountains. It turned it's head South and gazed plaintively towards Mt Hood for a few moments.

It shook its head and turned West and watched as the rosy glow of dawn spread across the Metroplex spread out along the edge of Puget Sound.

Suddenly it seemed to reach a decision, it's head bobbed once and then it leapt for the sky with a joyous screech.



Nr Eatonville - 10 Minutes later

The Bear sat in the clearing swatting flies and cleaning it's fur. It leaned against the dessicated white skeleton of an old fallen tree. This was no easy task as it had a large makeshift pack with a hunting rifle sticking out of it strapped to it's back. As it grunted and shifted for the thousandth time there was a soft flurry of noise and perched on one of the trees remaining branches was a large Eagle. It hopped down onto the trunk next to the Bear and knocked it playfully with the side of its head.

With an effortless backhand the Bear bats the Eagle right of the tree and down out of sight.

Two arms appear over the trunk where the Eagle fell and drag behind them a naked female Elf. She brushes dirt and small stones off her pale freckled skin and laughs as she pulls a twig from her ginger dreadlocks.

"Sorry I'm late, I had to see it from the top. Here let me get that for you."

She leans over and releases something on the Bears pack, which falls backwards onto the tree. She opens it and starts rummaging inside.

"So, that's it, three months of fun and adventure in the great outdoors, and now..."

She hopped from foot to foot as she pulled on her panties and started to pull a T-shirt over her head.

"..and now the City, a whole nnnggnnneew, ahh, adventure."

She pulls a pastel green and brown jumpsuit on and empties the rest of the pack carefully onto the ground. She starts filling her pockets with bits and pieces, a pistol is strapped to some sort of quick release webbing on the bottom of a small rucksack which is then strapped to her back. She tightens some straps on the pack until she's rolled it up into a makeshift bag for the rifle which is then slung over her shoulder.

The, now fully dressed, Elf reaches over and ruffles the Bears ear.

"Take this boy back up into the mountains where that girl was he fancied and charm her fur off for him and then your both free to go."

She leans over and kisses the Bear on the forehead.

"I'll miss you, it's been a privilege travelling with you. Now skedaddle before I start to cry. Se'seterin my friend."

She grabs up a set of in-line skates and walks to the edge of the clearing where a narrow paved road runs along the other side of a low wall of rocks.

She waves back to the Bear as she skates off but he has already disappeared back into the woods.

"Wooooo, Seattle here we come..."

[Tobias]

Redmond, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 10:00
Stormcrow

Scrolling across his vision an annoying ’Wake up Mr. Stomrin its 10:00’ along with an annoying beeping ringing in his ears. Sighing the large form rolled out of his bed. The lights flickered on, well 1 of the luminescent tube, at a mental command. Sunny Redmond His eyes making the necessary adjustments while he surveyed his second pad.

The trid-player buzzed to life slowly flickering now and again. Collapsing in the worn out sofa John Jacob Stomrin starts another day, scanning the news trids for anything interesting. The usual crap. Rising up slowly he moved to the kitchen, popping a false wall out which revealed a fully stocked fridge of real food, mostly anyway. He prepares a full English breakfast with a pot of steaming coffee. Worth every penny After finishing that off Stormcrow cleaned his plates and checked through his messages for any jobs…

[quentra]

Tacoma Docks, Seattle - March 7, 2070 - 0737
Qventra

Qventra felt something hit his shoulder, like a small weight. He groaned, rolling over in bed. Opening his eyes, a quick check of NewsNet showed him the time, 7:37, and the weather for the next week. Rain, rain, but it never snows in this boghpakinuti city! He looks around for the source of his awakening, a small, vaugely fairy shaped thing dressed like a member of the Russian royal court but with an old fashioned deck at his back, floating in the air in front of him.

Deputat, suka, why did you wake me up? It is only half past oh seven hundred! The little sprite dashed over to him, a wide grin on his fairy features. You have a job offer, sir! And your protection is due... The sprite opened a window in front of him, three tables showing his bank account balance, a vid-screen playing a recorded message, and a text message reminding him to pay insurance. Qven waved his hand at the screen, and the vid-message morphed with the tables, expanding to full size.

A relatively handsome black haired elf began to speak, while Qven ambled over the bathroom and began to brush his teeth, the vid screen in a corner of his vision. Qventra, it's Daeyan. I've got a job that'd need your particular talents. Meet me in Absolutions at oh nine hundred. The slavic elf closed the window with a thought, washing off his face. He set a small clock at the lower right edge of his vision and walked over to his 'kitchen,' really, a bar with a fridge at one end and a microwave in the other. He grabbed a bottle sitting at the edge of the bar, and a shotglass, pouring himself a shot. Downing it, Qven mentally checked his 'link for any other messages, grateful that his spam filter was working. Only three elf porn ads and a penis enhancement clinc ad had gotten through, which Qventra ascribed to success. Besides the spam, there was a notice from Artur, reminding him that his article about the new Minister of Finance was three days overdue.

Deputat floated back to him and perched on Qven's shoulder, the familiar weight of the sprite somehow reassuring to the elf. Well? Are you gonna take the job or not? the sprite shot at him, slightly rapping its knuckles against the side of Qven's neck. Qven nodded, then accessed a half finished draft of his article, opening it, as well as several Russian news sites. Might as well this get article finished. The clock read 0800, and Qventra figured he could get most of it done in an hour. With a mental sigh, the elf sat down on his bed and began typing.

Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0910

Qven stepped into the bar, a couple of invites hitting him almost immediately. He minimized them and walked over to his usual table. Only one other icon was there, a ragged, wraith looking thing. "Morneengk, Ghostwipe." The wraith acknowledged him with a nod, then resumed typing on an obsure screen in front of it. Qventra turned around and tapped a floating bubble, the bubble reconfiguring itself into a virtual shot of vodka. He downed it, scanning a list of the new arrivals, looking for Daeyan's handle. A few minutes later, a winged lion entered the bar, bounding over to Qven. Qven turned to the wraith. "Privacy, please," he asked. The wraith nodded, waving a hand and shifting Qven and the lion's surroundings to a closed booth.

[Abbandon]

Tacoma, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 13:00
Stray

It was another cold sunless day out, the temperature floating around in the 40 to 50's before plummeting 20 degrees during the night, but Stray kept her pace for the bar. It didnt take long to get there being only a few blocks away but the question was would she be able to reach the bar. She knew the middle aged orc and human would be trouble the moment she saw them whispering to each as soon as she turned onto the street. Stray stayed on the opposite side of the street but as she got closer the orc got up and stumbled across the street to intercept her, it was obvious the poor bastard was shitfaced.

Now he was standing wobbly right in fornt of her, "Hey chica! Me and my friend want to buy you a drink at Gorky's, what do ya say?"......

Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0910
Qventra

"ЗдравÑ?твуйте, мой друг" (Hello, my friend), The lion smiled. What do you think of my Russian Fenix?...

[Abbandon]

Redmond, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 10:00
Stormcrow

You have no messages...

[Fuchs]

Tacoma, Seattle Friday, March 7th, 2070, 13:00
Stray

Stray moves around a bit, to get her back to the wall, looking the ork over while at the same time trying to keep an eye on the human. They have no weapons drawn, but they could be hiding them…

Shifting her weight she gets ready for a fight in case the Ork has something else in mind other than some clumsy attempt to hit on her.

„Sorry, chummer, I am just looking if a friend of mine is there.“ Hopefully he’d take the hint and turn away. If not… Stray’s mentally lining up a kick to his midsection, should he try to grab her, and some side-step in case he just tries to bar her way.

[quentra]

Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0910
Qventra

Qventra turned and grinned at the lion, chuckling. "как дела, тавариш? Ñ‚Ñ‹ што, лингваÑ?офт вклучил?" Qventra tapped another floating bubble, and it morphed into two shots of virtual vodka. He chuckled, passing one of the shots to Daeyan as he downed his. "Your Russian eez not bad, Dae. But now. Down to beez, az you Amerikans say." Qven does a quick scan of the lion, noting any odd protocols or commands.

[crizh]

Fort Lewis - Outskirts - March 6th 2070 - 07:45

Voodoo

Feeling the link between her and her travelling companion evaporate, Voodoo stops and gulps down some water.

She flips Astral for a second and checks the two Watchers are still there. They have an hour left on them but best to check now and then.

Scout is scampering about on the ground 40' away chasing his own robot-dog tail. Twink buzzes around Voodoo's head like some sort of mad firefly on speed, occasionally she will alight on the Astral Form of the Power Focus she guards but she is soon off again.



"This is too much like hard work kids. What do you say we speed things up a bit?"

She focuses back on the mundane again and takes a couple of deep breaths while she stows the water bottle.

"Rogue, I choose you."

She grins and whispers under her breath in Sperethiel for a moment.



Flipping back to the Astral she smiles at the blue-skinned soldier.

"Long time no see chummer, didja miss me?"

He shrugs and stares suspiciously at the tiny Watcher, as if her buzzing offends his sense of Discipline.

"Well it's a good ten miles to the objective and I'm knackered so I need a speed boost and could'ya stick around in case there's any trouble?"


In the mundane again she straps her helmet on tight to ensure the Simrig is on securely and starts recording.

"It's about 10 miles to the Hotel, the roads are clear and the weather is beautiful. Personal best for that distance on hard-top is 4:24, lets see if we can get down to under 4 minutes."

Data displays start to pop up in her peripheral vision as she engages the GPS route to the Coffin-hotel, she links in the jumpsuits bio-monitor and pop-ups for heart rate, respiration, blood pressure and g-forces appear. A music playlist is next as she steps onto the road. The guitar screams across her neo-cortex as the gravelly voice of the late great Chuck Berry is pumped straight into her brain.

Deep down in Louisiana, close to New Orleans...

"God I love being a Mage.."

And then in a blur of pastels she's gone...

[Tobias]

Redmond, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 12:21
Stormcrow

Nothing. Better go see if anybody has anything.

Stormcrow gets ready to go on out, pulling on some usual street clothes finished off with his lined coat. He checked his Pulsar in his arm slide before moving out closing the door behind him after locking it. A quick walk down the stairs and left a message on Al’s commlink.
Hoi, got any work coming up? If not null persp
Running his senses up as he leaves the building and sets off walking through Redmond listening to any rumors/news…

Redmond/Auburn, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 13:21

After a few hours Stormcrow moves out of Redmond and moves through Seattle on his bike. His commlink sits broadcasting his fake SIN. Lovely city, can’t see the real quality till after the sun moves down, then everything comes out to play. He pulls off the highway into Auburn moving towards his pad, parking up in his ‘garage’ he switches off his engine and heads up to his room, for a cat nap before tonight.

[crizh]

Coffin Hotel - Fort Lewis - March 6th - 08:00

Voodoo

Closing the hatch of the coffin behind her Voodoo collapsed onto the thin mattress face first.


Her heart pounded in her ears and her muscles quivered with adrenaline.

She squirms around for a moment and manages to get her backpack off and shoved into a corner. Her rifle lies parallel to the mattress.

She wriggles some more and manages to get into the lotus position, her head nearly touching the roof despite her tiny frame.

She raises her right hand in front of her face and concentrates for a moment. Satisfied that there are no untoward RF sources in the little cubicle she instructs the smart-frame in her comlink to keep an eye on the door-lock and security camera for intruders or signs of hacking.

She reaches around and drags her pack in front of her and starts pulling Binding Materials out of it and arranging them systematically around her.

Three flawless pieces of quartz are arranged in a triangle on the mattress.

'Price, yes, Price first.'

Another pop-up menu appears in thin air, she selects a number from it and it fades. After a long moment another window appears and an electronic voice speaks.

'Please leave a message.'

'Umm, yeah, urr hi. I'm Voodoo, a mutual friend from Portland gave me your number. I've to tell you that 'Han fired first' whatever that means. Anyway I'm in town and available to provide similar services to those provided by our mutual friend. You can contact me here...'

She drags and drops the address of her public comlink into the message window.

'... umm, thanks. Hope to speak to you soon.'

Pressing send in the message window banished it and any trace of its existence from her system. That done, she leans forward and stares intently at the crystals in front of her.

'Now then time to put all these weeks of Alchemy to good use.'

She steps from her body and floats into the triangle of gems. Their auras far brighter than any mundane crystal, they illuminate the Astral with a gentle silver glow.

Reaching into her mind she finds the link and draws Rogue back from the Metaplanes.

"Thank you for your service, dear friend. I release you from further obligation."

The blue skinned apparition nodded slowly in understanding and then faded from view.

She took a moment to strengthen her Will and then called forth the mind-twin. For a brief moment it was like gazing into an Astral mirror, until the spirit winked and smiled in recognition.

"I must ask you to provide me with more than the usual assistance. I have brought these forms of earth as payment," she said as she began the ritual.

[Fuchs]

Tacoma, Seattle Friday, March 7th, 2070, 13:00
Stray

Stray doesn’t spot any weapons, unless the bottle of cheap beer the human is holding counts. The ork is barefoot, and his front looks and smells like spilled a whole bottle of beer over himself. Given how dirty his clothes are, that might even be an improvement. She wrinkles her nose as the stench of the ork registers. No, no improvement.

Stray slides around the ork in a fluid motion, feet keeping ground contact so as not to unbalance her, but then the ork grabs her wrist.

"Hey I'll be your friend, how much does it cost to do anything I want?"

Wrong move, wrong line. Stray pivots on one heel, and her leg shoots up, her boot catching the ork right where his shirt spills out from his belt. He is driven back and falls down with an almost comical sound. A quick glance shows her no sign that the Ork may be getting up again. She glances over to the human, in case he feels like stepping in. If he throws that bottle...dodge left, then rush him...

[Abbandon]

Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0910
Qventra

"Haha no I just looked it up just now. Well me and the boys have an address for a warehouse filled with some new juiced up bike engines. We want to get in there and do some early shopping but security is going to be pretty thick. They have a few gaurds and a whole crapload of camera's and sensors. We can take out the gaurds no problem but not before we set off every alarm in the place. Thats where you come in. We need you to do your thing and work your way into the system and create an easy button for us. You know, set up a fake account in the system and make sure it has access to the camera's and sensors. After you set that up you just give me a call and give me the passcode. We cant pay you until after the job is done though, stealing the engines is only part of it and that in and of itself wont pay anything. We will be setting up a meeting with this companies rivals to sell it to them so that they can copy and or improve on it. If that happens then you get a kickback. But it is vital that you do not trigger any alerts in the system or they will double the security and we wont be able to steal shit. So are you in or what ?" The lion sits back and takes a drink.

[Abbandon]

Tacoma, Seattle Friday, March 7th, 2070, 13:00
Stray

The human bursts into laughter as his friend is sent tumbling to the ground cracking his skull against the pavement but as he sees the latina chick looking at him he raises his hands in surrender, making sure not to spill any of his beer. Stray keeps moving and heads for the bar. When it looks like she is far enough away the human gets up and stumbles over to his friend who is now sitting in the middle of the street holding the back of his head and looking at his own blood. The human try to help the orc up but the orc bats the offered hand away like he is pissed at him for some reason but they both walk back to the porch and begin to scan the street for some more entertainment. The smile on Stray's face morphs back into her poker face as she reaches for the door...

[Fuchs]

Tacoma, Seattle Friday, March 7th, 2070, 13:05
Stray

Stray enters “Gorky Park�, wiping her boots on the “Welcome� mat. She doesn’t know where that ork has been before she planted her boot in his gut.

It’s early in the day, and the bar has not many customers. None of them looks familiar to her. Stray looks around, then heads over to the bar. The young woman orders a cheap beer, checking her commlink for incoming calls while the human bartender fills it. She doesn't fit in perfectly with her jeans, boots and top combo, but neither is she out of place. Just a bit early, but then, so are the rest of the patrons, who might not be holding down 9-5 jobs either. She slips her sunglasses on, checking the bar’s AR, and studies the profiles of the people present.

Remember to double check your own profile, never know when a script kiddie plays around with it just to mess with you.

Her profile looks good, or at least not tampered with – a picture of herself, taken herself (and did that take some time until it looked ok, with her cheap commlink’s autofocus), some lines about her liking dancing, sports, and martial arts, and her favorite movies – Sukie Redflower 1-3, Ultimate Final Hong Kong Streetfighter 2, and L.A. Love Story.

Sipping her beer, Stray checks the local nodes for hints at open jobs. The AR feels a bit weird to her, it makes it harder to focus on the real world when she doesn’t know if that wall really looks like that, covered with old snippets from older sport events.

An electronic flier for a party at a club catches her attention in passing, the animated advertising, complete with full-sourround sound, looking very slick. But the admission price is as expensive as the party looks like.

Maybe I’ll visit the gym later, if nothing comes up here, then check out Mel’s club instead. Less expensive...

[Tobias]

Auburn, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 18:14
Stormcrow
With a yawn the sleeping form of Stormcrow stretched out of bed. His commlink had a red message icon flashing on it. Sighing he accesses it with a thought:
"Heya Storm sorry I havent called in a few days, there hasnt been alot going on but as a matter of fact I think I do have something I can throw your way. You dont have any problems with ghouls do you? If not come to my office and we can discuss the details" Ghouls aren’t that bad, can usually smell them coming and they seem to have problems spotting me

He pulled his work duffel bag from its hidey hole, having his full urban camo gear, his pred, more ammo and other useful things. As he gets ready to go he pings Al with a comm message �Hoi, I’ll be there soon. I don’t mind ghouls at all�

Al’s Warehouse, Near the airport, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 18:47

He headed out taking his bike towards the airport he bypasses the usual area and goes straight towards the warehouses. Nearing Al’s Warehouse he pulls into an alley between two others and gets out and walks, checking his Pulsar in his arm slide. Stormcrow chuckled as the personnel opening slowly moves.Guess I’m expected Giving a quick look up at the large sliding doors of the ex-hanger as he goes through the small opening. It takes a few seconds to orient himself through the crates and shelves his eyes get drawn to the ARO arrow pointing to the upstairs office on his newly given map. Moving between the crates up towards the staircase Stormcrow goes up towards the office and knocks on the door.

“Hoi Al, I’ve turned up. What’s the job?�

The door locks disengaged as Stormcrow moves into the large office of Al…

[quentra]

Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0925
Qventra

The elf sits back, his pheonix avatar in a relaxed position as he listens to the brief. His ears perk up at the sound of 'bike engines,' but he stays quiet until Daeyan finishes talking. He nods, once Daeyan finishes. "Eet sounds seemple enouf. Bikes, da? However, I zhink I voult vant to be een zha run itzelv, een case anyzhingk goes wrongk. Zhat ees ecseptable? And hhow much yen are vee talkingk about, exactly? Andt vhat ees my garuntee zhat I veel stilh ghet paid eef you do not manage to sell zha bikes?" Qven downs another shot of vodka, leaning back in his chair.

[Glyph]

Outskirts of Puyallup Barrens, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 11:30a

Haze

Haze wakes up slowly and blearily, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. The late morning light through the narrow basement window illuminates a rather small and run-down apartment, although for someone who spent most of his life in various squats, it seems splendid. Sounds drift in from the other apartments - the thrum of throbbing techno music, a domestic dispute in progress, a barking dog... Haze has learned to tune most of it out.

sniffing an armpit and deciding that his hygiene is still acceptable, Haze ties his hair back in a quick ponytail and dons slightly scruffy street clothing, loose on his thin frame, topped off with his armored jacket - because trouble never knocks or shouts out a warning. He frowns as he thinks about his finances, which are getting low. He really needs to get some more work soon. First, he has to stop by Mr. Fingers shop to pick up some candles and other magical supplies.

As he walks along the streets, the local gangers give him wary looks. They know he's a spellslinger, with a rep for having a cruel sense of humor at times, but hey, he's never made a fuss about paying his protection money. A young prostitute looks up at him as he passes, and something passes between them, a shared sad cynicism. At the corner of the street, he goes down a short flight of steps into Mr. Fingers shop, which doesn't even have a sign out front.

He hears a pitiful howl, then a young human ganger kid stumbles past him, clutching his bleeding hand. He shakes his head. When will they ever learn to stop trying to shoplift here? He nearly stumbles over the hulking, shaggy form of Killer as he enters the musty shop with its cluttered shelves. Does that damn dog do nothing but sleep? Mr. Fingers is by the counter, and Haze suppresses a shudder of revulsion at the look of cruel glee on the grizzled ork's face, as he adds another finger to the large alcohol-filled jar.

Haze gathers up several tallow candles and some beads, finding nothing else to tempt him on the shelves - although the good stuff is at the counter, and the best stuff is behind the counter. As the ork rings up his purchases, he smiles and says,

"Ya know, I just might be getting in some spell forumalae in a few days. Not sure exactly which spells, but from this Coyote shaman, and illusions. That's right up your alley, isn't it?"

Haze's gaze sharpens. "Yeah, sounds like something I'd be interested in, all right. What do they run?"

Mr. Fingers ponders. "Well, they normally run about 1,000 Nuyen, but for a good customer or a friend, I'd let them go for 800. So for you, 1,000."

Haze just smirks at the verbal jab, realizing he's been given the upper and lower ranges for negotiation. "Okay, I'll see you in a few days, assuming I'm not stuck out on a job." And assuming I can get the money... he adds to himself.

He gives Spindler a commcal as soon as he gets outside, and to his surprise, gets a quick reply asking him to come over there. Hopping on the dilapidated bus, he gets off a few blocks from his destination, and ambles into Spindler's office with what he hopes is sufficient casualness.

"Yo, Spindler!" He calls out. The thin fixer, animatedly talking on his commlink, irritably gives him a 'wait a minute' gesture. After a few minutes, he turns back to Haze.

"Haze. Got a job for you. Quick, easy, three grand. Take it or leave it."

"Whoa now, what kind of job? A few details, pu-lease!"

"Some punks doing a deal in Tacoma, in a warehouse, by the docks. All you gotta do is provide spell defense. That's it. Although if you need to do any more, they will give a bonus. But if they don't need it, you still get paid. A few hours work, three grand. Come on, you know it's been slow around here. Stupid pornsim star ODs, and all of a sudden all the cops are looking to bust people with Kong chips. If you don't take it, I don't know when the next one'll be."

Haze shrugs. "Sure, sounds straightforward enough."

Spindler smiles faintly. "Good - one thing taken care of. Just go a few blocks down, the sports bar. They'll pick you up."

Haze wanders down to the bar, place with lots of trid screens, orks and trolls in here mostly, but still ignoring him for the most part. He hasn't been in there more than five minutes before a broadly-built man in shades and an ill-fitting suit comes in, looks around, then walks over to him. "You Haze?" he asks curtly.

"Yup." Haze nods.

"You don't look like much... ah well, c'mon. The boys are waiting." He turns on his heel and exits, leaving Haze to follow him outside. The man gets into the passenger side of a limo, while someone from inside opens the back door, where he finds himself sitting next to a massive troll. None of them say much as they speed off towards Tacoma.

[Abbandon]

Tacoma, Seattle Friday, March 7th, 2070, 13:30
Stray

As Stray stood there leaning against the bar with her elbows propping her up looking out over the motrley crew of patrons of drunk out of shape out of work losers, getting hit on repeatedly she had just about had enough, one more lame come on like "Hey girl, if you were any hotter I would have to slot you in" probably in reference to some pornsim BTL or some shit. A transparent pink background with white lettering window popped up in her field of vision and before she could delete the last come on she could take that night she saw that it was an incoming call from Al, her fixer.

Activating the accept button with a wink of her eye Al's visage took over the window. Al was a youthful looking elf with long shoulder length black hair that he wears slicked back, green eyes and a long angular face. Youthful meaning in his late 20's early 30's although he had probably lived alot longer than that. He wore an expensive looking armored jacket over various solid color undershirts, todays color was bright green, and normal suit pants. The effect was an attempt at being rich and powerful but also grounded in the fact that he worked with dangerous individuals and had to move around alot hence the armored jacket. His face with filled with doubt and was looking at Stray the one might look at their new pet dog who craps in the house.

"I don't like doing this but I dont really have a choice. If you are still looking for a job get your ass over here in 20 or before I find someone else who can do the job", and before Stray could ask any questions he had disco'ed the call. She knew Al was alot more charming than that because she had seen him talking business with other people but she didnt know why he was so short with her. Maybe it was because she had just met him or maybe it was because she reminded him of some ex girlfriend who knew, maybe he was just treating her like she didnt exist just to play mind games with her to secretly get in her pants. Whatever the reason Stray pouted and then payed her tab. Thoughts of money and never having to come back to a shithole bar like this filled her head.

Al’s Warehouse, Near the airport, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 18:47
Stormcrow

As John steps through the door Al is standing at the window looking out over his warehouse and tapping on a pad and telling a pretty strong looking human what he wants done with the latest batch of things that has come in. The conversation dies down as they both turn and look at John and then the human grabs the tablet that Al is holding out to him and tells him "yes Boss" and then leaves the office. Al stands there looking John over from head to toe and then calmly walks back to his desk and offers John the seat on the other side. Al is a youthful looking elf with straight shoulder length black hair that is slicked back and green eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking armored jacket over a bright green shirt with some black suit pants(probably armored as well) and some dress shoes. Its a touch upper class but also obvious that Al can handle it if the shit hits the fan.

Al puts his elbows on his desk and his face into the palms of his hands and lets out a sigh before continuing "Well Stormcrow you have said that you got alot of combat experience while you were with that smuggler outfit the Flying Rats or whatever?". John walks over and sits in the chair, "They were called the Flying Squirrels, and yes I got some combat experience while I was with them..." Al sat back in his chair still eyeballing John, well Stormcrow I kinda hate to do this but its not like you have a reuptation or anything to pull in the big jobs. A certain corporation has been experimenting on ghouls or some shit and they have got out of hand. They want to outsource the cleanup to you. Im gonna be honest with you, they probably just want to see their latest toys in action and look for weaknesses but if you actually survive they said they would make it worth your while. Now beyond that they havent said an actual amount but they said thier were only 10 ghouls in this factory building..the last time they checked. So thats about the short and skinny of it. Got any questions? You want the job?".


Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0925
Qventra

"You clueless bastard, you sure are green to all of this shit arent ya!" The lion laughs. "You dont got no fucking guarantee and frankly thats a bit fucking insulting. Here I am wasting my time to give some dipshit i barely know a shot at making some cash and you insult me and my gang..." As you are sitting there you notice an attack program come online and the lion's fangs seem to grow bigger, longer, and shinier. The lion looks around the room though and the fang's disappear and the attack program goes back offline.

"You are lucky chummer, lucky this meeting wasnt face to face and lucky I put my ass on the line and told my brothers that I had somebody who could help. So im gonna overlook your god damn rudeness and repeat myself. We want you to set up an account for us, thats it. We dont want to baby sit your ass and take you with us, and we dont know how much god damn money you will get if any!! There are way to many variables. If you think your going to get fragged on a simple matrix run maybe you seriously over advertised your abilities and should go back to the motherland before I have to hunt you down and do things I dont wanna have to do because you made me look bad in front of my boys. Is that acceptable? Do you want the job or not?" You notice a trace program come online...


Dock Warehouse @ Tacoma, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 12:00p
Haze

Sitting in the back of the limo Haze switched to astral perception and looked around at his new friends. Most of them were fairly healthy and had the tell tale signs of cyber in the form of gray chunks in their aura, one of the guys, the one sitting next to who he assumed was the boss was awakened though with an aura alot brighter than everyone elses but judging from how the guy looked in the physical world Haze would have to guess the guy was an adept or maybe mystic adept, the guy didnt seem to notice or care about Haze looking around in the astral atleast. As Haze refocused on the physical world the guy he assumed was the boss spoke up. "Look pal this is the way I want things to go down. We are going to make a deal and if the other guys try to use any magic on us its your job to stop them and then to drop them, maybe they will have a mage maybe they wont, hell they could have a whole army for all I know."

"The big guy Thrash, will protect you if anyone try to get up close and personal with you during all of this" The boss points to the troll sitting next to you. As you look out the window you can see the open water of the Puget Sound not 20 feet from the road your rolling along on but you imagine the water would be freezing at this time of year, hell its freezing on land, then the limo turns left and pulls into a big empty warehouse, there are huge sliding doors on both ends of the building and they are both open. The limo pulls up on the right side of the warehouse and comes to a halt but the motor stays on. The doors pop open and everyone begins to pile out of the limo starting with you. The floor of the warehouse is dirty and caked with rubber from years and years of forklifts moving shit around and the air smells like fish and salt.

As the boss climbs out he looks around and then he tels you "We have a few minutes before the meet so if you want you can throw up one of those ward thingies or find a safe place to cover us from." Its clear the guy has no idea how magic works and you come to the conclusion its probably better if you dont try to correct him or explain things to him so he might understand better. Looking around the warehouse astrally there doesnt seem to be anything to worry about and the background count of the area just seems to relay alot of hard work and misery, not anything that could interfere with your magic...

[Fuchs]

Tacoma, Seattle Friday, March 7th, 2070, 13:30
Stray

Stray frowns. 20 minutes is not much time – Al’s probably pressed for time. Unless he just wants to see how far she jumps if he says „frog“. But she can make it. She sends Al a short e-note, I am on the way, mumbling the message twice until her commlink picks it up correctly, double-checking the adress, then heads back to her flat, at a jog.

In her appartement she pushes her matress away with a kick of her boots, then pulls the loose board up, revealing her Remington 990 underneath. She grabs the gun, checking if it’s loaded, remembering Mel and his „always check if a gun’s loaded when you pick it up“ line, then grabs some more ammo, and stuffs it in a duffel bag. Kicking the matress back into place, she puts her goggles on and heads down to the basement, where her roller is parked.

Stray doesn’t like the basement. Too dark – even with low light vision it seems darker than it should be – and too many corners and pillar where people can hide. But it keeps the vehicles inside reasonably safe, if not always the people using them. She checks the doors of the elevator before stepping into the basement, then quickly walks to her scooter, her free hand near the grip of her Ares Predator IV. Just in case.

No trouble so far. And the scooter even works like a charm today. Still, once she gets some money it’ll be racing bike time. With the bag containing the shotgun stashed under the seat, Stray heads out toward Al’s warehouse. If she wasn't driving she'd add some "No, I am not looking for a date" line to her AR profile. Stray decides to do that first thing once she has time. But now to focus on more pleasant things. She's got work, or will have it soon enough.

I wonder what kind of job that is, Al did sound urgent…

[quentra]

Absolutions, Matrix, Seattle grid- March 7, 2070 - 0927
Qventra

The pheonix avatar laughs, the sound of a harsh, raven's caw coming from its beak. This proklati suka think he can threaten me?
Qventra narrows his eyes as he looks at the lion, mentally forming an algorithm that would knock that lion back to meatspace, and he begins to call up his sprites to force the insolent little suka back to reality.

Deputat's voice sounds in his mind.
You do need the money, sir. I would ask that you remain rational. Also, I do not think it would be wise to reveal yourself, sir. You are still a hunted race, after all.

Snarling, Qventra closes his eyes, opening them slowly to regard the lion. He smiles pleasantly, knowing that on his pheonix icon, the smile seems extremely predatory. "Comrade, I vouldt ask that you not jump to conclushuns. Have you considerdt zha fact zhat maybe I vouldt like a bike vhor myself? As for zha garuntee, I vouldt be a green runner indeedt deet I not ask for payment upfront, or maybe eet ees you who ees green, andt seemply not avare ov zha proper etiquette."

Idiot. Typical Amerikan arrogance.

The pheonix inclines his head at the lion. "But perhaps I havv been too hasty. I am een needt of vork, afhter all, andt I greatly appreshiatt zha fact zhat you vouldt ask me."

Qventra downs a shot of vodka, then looks at the lion. "I havv an idea, zhen. Vhile I havv utmost respekt vor zhe Ancients, I am a beet of a...daredeveel, forgivv me. My...rekvest zhat I be includedt een zhis run ees seemply to break zha monotony ov daily life, da? As vell as see my old comrade."

He racks his mind for clues, seeing if there was anything recent between the Vory and the Ancients that could possibly put Daeyan in an offensive position regarding Russians.

Qventra then grins again, good-naturedly. "Zhat ees acceptable, nyet? Andt my garuntee ees not much, comrade, just somefink to allow me to buy foodt andt vodka. Two hundred yen, comrade, and eef you do not manage to sell zha bikes, I veel return eet. Of course, vhen everyzhingk goes to plan, I vouldt rekvest a flat percentage of eight on zha gross profeet, or a five percentage cut alongk vit a bike."

The pheonix waves his hand at another floating bubble, two shots materializing from it and floating over to to the table. One sets in front of Daeyan, while another lands in front of the pheonix. Qventra motions to the shots. "Shall vee?"

He then notices the trace program, and attempts to redirect it. "Come now, Daeyan. Vee are comrades, da? Eet ees not polite to trace vone's lokashun duringk a beez meetingk. Let us come to an agreement, like men."

[Tobias]

Al’s Warehouse, Near the airport, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 18:48
Stormcrow

Clean up for a corps ghoul experiment. Could be worse but it also could be a whole lot better, guess beggars can’t be choosers

“I will take the job, but a few quick questions. What type of facility is it? Any idea what type of experimentation? I’m guessing they want them dead? Where is it?�

After getting the answers he nods bringing up the facility on his Map-soft. He walks out without any more conversation. Hopefully this will raise my reputation, if I don’t die. Walking to where his bike was stored Stormcrow headed towards to the nearest of his pads. After getting there he quickly changes into his urban camo in its night time setting. Taking his predator and ruger 100 he heads back towards the facility.

[crizh]

Coffin Motel - Fort Lewis - March 6, 2070 14:10

Voodoo

The last of the Med Kit packed away, Voodoo checked her public commlink for messages for about the fiftieth time in ten minutes. Like a love sick teenager, she thought.

She paid for another 24 hours in the coffin and laid out another three crystals. Taking a deep breath she whispered 'Rinse, repeat' before closing her eyes again.

Coffin Motel - Fort Lewis - March 6, 2070 20:10

Another six hours and still no messages.

Voodoo stripped naked leaving only her private commlink on it's customary long lanyard dangling between her breasts. Laying back she allowed her mind to slip from her body into the astral. The stress of waiting for the call was going to keep her awake for hours so she had decided to go for a run.

She quickly summoned a third watcher to come get her if anyone tried to get into the coffin while she was gone and then set about the more complicated task of summoning Baghera from the shadows of the night time Astral.

It was always with some trepidation that she embarked on such exercises. There had to be something morally or spiritually wrong with anything that was as pleasurable as what she was about to do.

"We need to find some good hiding places for stuff nearby, transform me, take over and help me search all the nearby rooftops without anyone spotting us."

Voodoo opened her eyes and grinned, this was going to be sick. She relaxed and tried to steady her breathing as she waited for the change to start. She felt her body start to flow, she rolled over onto her hands and knees and crouched to fit into the small space as her muscles grew and thickened, her fingers shortened and merged, the nails growing, curving, the tail growing from her Coccyx. What a rush, she tingled all over as her soft black fur settled into place. Then she felt Baghera's will settle over her own and with guilty pleasure she submitted to it.

Outside the coffins the lighting strips briefly flickered on and off, a perceptive observer might have sworn that one of the coffin doors opened and closed but when the lights came back up there was nothing there but the shadows of a run down Coffin Motel.

Rooftops - Fort Lewis - 20:15

Voodoo thrilled to the feel of the smooth bunch and flow of the Panther's muscles as it ran and leapt from rooftop to rooftop, pausing to sniff the night air, scaring roosting pigeons and rats. Screw BTL, no sim-recording could ever match this, no matter how much you over-hype a real simsense track it was still just Mundane experiences. No Mundane had any idea how this felt, how could they....

Once they had searched all the rooftops they could reach she let him play for a while and then asked him to let her chill and watch the full moon rise over the mountains. Finally, a full two hours later she had him return her to the tiny cell that awaited her downstairs.

[Glyph]

Dock Warehouse @ Tacoma, Seattle – Friday, March 7th, 2070 – 12:00p

Haze

Haze nods laconically at the leader's directions, only interjecting,

"Yeah, just be sure you guys stay in my line of sight. I can't see you, I can't protect you from the other guys' mojo."

Not something he would feel obligated to mention, normally, but this crew doesn't seem to know too much about magic, one of them being an adept notwithstanding. He scrutinizes his surroundings, looking for a nice safe spot where he and the troll can sit while the others do their negotiating. Inwardly, he is not as calm, as his job description has ballooned from providing spell defense, to being expected to take any enemy mages out, as well. Oh well, his fixer did say he'd get a bonus if it came to that... unless the bastard was lying about that, too. And there's still a chance he'll get paid for doing nothing. But in case he's wrong, he's really glad he decided to wear the armored jacket today, instead of just the vest.