IC: Post or Die, Lifelines, and deadlines Options

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:28 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Professor stuffs his face with the last few crumbs of the sandwich he had built for himself, and shakes his head. "Damn. What a team. Paranoia. Speciesism. Opportunistic harvesting of our teammates remains? Who needs an Ares team to kill us? We'll do ourselves in."

"So, now that we have satisfied our hunger," *memory flash of Jovan's teeth* "why don't we figure out our itinerary for the next leg of our excellent adventure? We have options to go talk to Strawberry, go find Rusty, or go wait for Rusty. Thoughts?"

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:28 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Oswald narrowed his eyes at the young Ork. He was sure that they'd have rifled Heka's pockets to look for anything that would link the deceased lad to the rest of them.. At least that's what he assumed. Heka though would have probably left the credstick at home. Taking it to the barrens would have been nothing but a liability. It's not like you could bribe a SINless ganger. He'd just shoot you and take all the credits. Maybe we should rob his apartment later. I know his address, and 2000 creds is 2000 creds.
"Hahaha! Ahh, Thirty I was just joshing you.. Good to see you take it in stride. Some people get all sensitive about that sort of thing." He rolled his eyes at Acme. "You've got to have a sense of humor to make it in this life. Otherwise, every day is nothing but more pain and sadness until you really do die inside. For instance, the best case scenario we're looking at right now is that we steal back a load of military ordinance for a mysterious group of killers to do with as they please."

He turned to Acme. "You don't object to me calling your boss a killer, right?" He shifted his chair to face the new recruit. "I really can't figure you out at all. I mean, bossman's #2 admitted that you were with her when I sent my car to pick you up and take you to my home, which, you're welcome for by the way, but you certainly have been talking like you haven't been briefed on us at all, so where does that leave things? You aren't playing a snoop here are you, Sparky? I know I trust the rest of you fraggers, and I've already killed to protect you, so I hope you trust me... at least to look out for your interests. Hell, I even trust the.. er.. Jovan, despite his sensitivities, but, Acme, you confuse the hell out of me, boy. You're a stranger in my home and it's worrisome. What's your stake in all this business?"

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:29 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Oswald's questions are good ones, but things are getting a touch serious here. Professor opens himself up to the astral to catch the drift of emotions. He also looks for the nearest table or other barrier to duck behind.

[Acme]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:29 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Acme had been busy eating the most expensive things he could find in Oswald's kitchen. A good chunk of meat products, that he was sure was going to blow the geezer's mind that he wasn't a vegetarian or didn't respect the sanctity of the earth or whatever garbage he thought of him. He considered spiking Oswald's food with something to make the old man have the trots, but figured that ran counter to their survival. So he mostly kept to himself, but listened a bit. But then the old man finally opened his mouth and looked at him.

"For starters, I didn't get an advance either," he replied with a shrug, drinking a glass of water. "And no, she didn't brief me on you guys or else I'd have known to expect that we were running with the 2070s version of Archie Bunker. The briefing I got was the important stuff, about the situation with recovering the cargo in the Barrens. And that I'd need to replace a vacated magic spot. But hey, nuyen is nuyen, and if you don't wanna trust me because I'm the triple 7 of magic, meta, and AmerInd on your crotchety slot machine, then I'll let Brackhaven know he's got a new campaign manager for his governor race." He smirked, taking it all in stride as he drank more water.

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:29 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"One, asking you to do magic must be a really strange way of saying I don't like mages. Two, I don't care that you're a Daffy as long as you came to work. That's just how men who weren't raised sissies talk to each other. And three, the fact that you identify with a people historically willing to raise arms against our fascist corporate masters is nothing to put down. Red Cloud was a friend of mine, and anyone makes moves against the natives near me will be dead before they hit the ground." By this point, Oswald was visibly tense, in stark contrast to his normally slouched, shuffling nature. His hand had moved to the intimidating laser secured to his hip, but in touching it, he relaxed.
"Way to sidestep the real question about your relationship with our shadowy employers though... Hmmph.. Professor's right. All I can do is scan you for listening devices and move on. For now we need to decide whether we'll search out Rusty at his digs or his haunts. If we botch the first, I doubt we can try the second, but if we botch the second, we might could still try the first. There's a lot of ground to cover and a lot to get done in the meantime. So do we move now or prepare? Someone needs to make a decision. Ferret knows the area best. I'll defer to his judgment on this."

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, Jovan's mind, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Jovan was floating in a cocoon of light, enveloped in its comfort and its warmth. He felt as if he was wrapped snugly in a thick cozy blanket, or as if he was an unborn bird sealed in an egg. There were no sounds, there were no movements beyond. There was only peace, silence, and the beautiful warmth of the light.

Far off in the distance, he suddenly perceived a vision slowly forming. In it, he saw guns being fired. Some sort of firefight. As the picture grew clearer, he saw figures he recognized. There was a dwarf wearing a potent magical fedora, and a blimp floating above the scene, and other figures that seemed to be helping them. He saw himself there as well. They were being fired upon by some sort of professional squad. The group was outnumbered and getting overwhelmed. He saw the figures start falling one by one to the rain of bullets. He saw himself torn to shreds by a hail of lead. He saw explosives and guns on the scene as well, yet he could not tell whether the figures were associated with Ares or his employer.

The vision was vague, and could not yield great insight. Still, it forced Jovan to question the purity of the Johnson's motives. 'What are you planning that requires things as deadly as bombs, o Johnson? And why do you expect us to think you won't tie off our loose ends when we give them to you?' he wondered.

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:29 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Ferret's attention snaps back into focus from whatever he was checking out in the matrix. He seems a little nervous at first, though it's difficult to tell whether it's from being asked about what they should do or from the moment of increased tension at the table.

"Well, that is, if you want my take on it, I'd suggest scoping the titty bar first. Maybe a couple of us inside and a couple outside in case this Rusty fella makes us and tries to run. That would also give me a chance to talk to this trog, er troll. No offense meant, Thirty. But that would mean I would need to go inside, and then preferably with Thirty as backup. Acme, can you or Mr Paranoid track him in the astral or do you need something like a magic commcode to do that?"

Ferret scratches his head, thinking for a moment. His attention seems to drift for a second or two.

"There was something else. Oh yeah, my contact will have some gear for us to pick up around 8. So either we all go in together, so I can lead you in the safest way. Or, a couple of us head directly to the strip joint, while the rest pick up the gear and then swing by later. I would prefer the first option, strength in numbers and all that jazz."

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:30 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"Well, if we've got time to kill, I've got work I could get done. Someone will have to talk to our man on the gurney. Offer him safe haven from his troubles until we've got this matter wrapped up. Maybe sit with him guard style. You boys could stop by Heka's place and see if he left the credsick there. Might even clean it up a little for when the police come around. I didn't know the boy was a citizen before, but I suspected it. I've got his address if you've still got his link. Ferret might be able to walk up there uncontested with that. There's 2000 credits sitting in there, plus who knows what kind of incriminating, but valuable swag you can pull before the cops arrive. Hell, if it's not even in Heka's real name, it's possible Ferret could just swipe that fake identity with a little work. Then I could stop getting confused all the time.. Or at least be right when I do get confused...

Anyway, if you boys are up for the adventure, it could turn out in your favor. Plus you get to feel good about Heka's parents not walking into their deceased son's house to find it full of drugs and satanic doodads. Might be a good distraction while we get to work here. Acme, if you're not up for the adventure, you could always stay here and put up a temporary astral ward for when we need to stash the trucks. That sounds like fun right? Afternoon at the industrial park with Acme and Oswald?"

[HugeC]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:30 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Thirty contemplates Oswald's suggestion for a moment, fiddling with his beard. After a few moments, he says, "If his stuff is kept under a fake SIN, then Heka's parents won't likely find it, right? As for robbing his place, it seems like a small payoff to risk being associated with him all over again. If the Knights catch us fooling around there, it's going to look like we killed him. I'm not saying we don't do it, but for the moment, I'm unconvinced."

"As for Rusty," he continues, "I think we should try the strip club first. I'm with Ferret; I'd rather have the whole crew there just in case. It might not hurt for us to look the part so that the Stilettos don't give us any trouble. Acme, can you use magic to make us all look like we're irradiated mutants? If not, we might want to find some disguises. After all, nobody is going to believe a guy as pretty as this," he points to himself with both thumbs and gives a sarcastic grin, "would frequent a place like that."

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Ferret shrugs. "Pity I loaded the kid's fake SIN with Thirty's car license and left it on his corpse. I could probably have used it to walk right into his pad. Win some, lose some, I guess. Although I guess I could try to spoof his door entry system. Where did he live anyway, Oz? And if you say Bellevue, you can kiss my hairy ass. I aint breaking into nobody's house down there."

Turning to Thirty, he laughs. "Yeah, you are a bit too clean and pretty compared to some of the boys around glow city. But you would still fit in better than the rest of this lot. Don't need two heads, just some dirt and a pair of tusks. Maybe Stiletto colors too, although them boys know their own and that could fall through right quick. Can you just ugly us up a bit, Acme?"

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Professor stands and assumes a posture he often took in front of a class. "Alright, I'll play daddy this time around. Oswald needs some rest, and should stay here, slumbering with Jovan. I'm sure there are technological marvels here to guard Jack and ensure he doesn't wander or get taken. And both of them are capable of travelling quickly to wherever we are, physically or astrally as the case may be.

"The four others will go to stake out Rusty's favourite bar. Acme and Thirty should be the inside team, and Ferret and I will cover the outside, maybe with a spirit courtesy of Acme to bolster our strength and tailing abilities. If he doesn't show up before the protective items are available, then we can adjust our plan to allow for Ferret to pick up the materials. Once he returns to the stakeout, if there is still no Rusty, we can outfit ourselves to go look for him, or continue the stakeout.

"Acme, if you can make me invisible by any chance, I could keep it going myself. That might be useful.

"Any questions or modifications?"

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11th, 1:00 pm, 32nd St in Redmond

Millie slowly and reluctantly pulled the trodes from the tangled mat of brown hair that roamed wild over her ashen skin. She was pale from days under the silicon halo, Orgasming in explosive simsense tweaked to burnout levels. Now her stack of chips were gone. burnt through in what seemed like an instant, but in reality... she had no Idea. Her head pounded. She rummaged through her jacket until she came across a diet Buzz cola. she smacked it to her face and didn't part with it until it was drained. Her squat was fairly dark, but she could see the light coming through the sheet over the window that told her it was daytime. The squat was fairly empty, maybe ten other people. All the others were in mid-trip or asleep, maybe dead. It wouldn't be the first time. Her stomach grumbled and cramped hard enough to rival the pain in her head. She spotted a bag of Krill rinds unopened in a mans lap. He was plugged in, so she snatched them and moved for the door.
Once in the alley outside she popped the bag o' breakfast and squatted by a dumpster. she let her eyes adjust to the light so she could look around. It was raining ever so slightly and the sun was behind the clouds. Millie was relieved, because she was sure if it was any brighter, her eyes would explode. The alley was fairly clear so she went for her secret hiding spot. Behind the old dumpster, long filled with garbage that no one ever collected, was a gap just large enough for an emaciated woman like Millie to squeeze into. She felt along the wall for the hole, the hole she found hiding from a coked out asshole trying to get a freebie. She danced her hand along the wall until she found the gap, and then pulled out the cred stick inside. She slid it into her old jacket pocket and pulled up her comm to see the time, and the date for that matter. Shit, its the weekend. time to make some cred.
She called up the club to see what was going on. She walked out to the street as she waited for an answer. the place was more of a war zone than usual. The Glass at the club next door was all over the road. Some fat bastard lay face down on the sidewalk, dead as Dunkelzahn. Two other scrawny slots were trying to load him into some beat up truck. Millie thought for a moment about dying in the street. and wondered who might take care of her body. the images that came to mind were too disturbing to dwell on for long.

[Acme]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 12:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Acme nodded, thinking over all the suggestions as he finished his meal. "Yeah, I can do both," he replied. "Especially if there's a bit of time between each. I'm still feeling a bit woozy from the first spells, but it sounds like we've got a bit of time till the stakeout. I think I can shift a few things, make us neutral. I don't recommend looking like we're in a gang, we might end up stumbling into people who actually are in that gang and think we're playing wannabe. That's an easy ticket to a beatdown, and in the Barrens most of the gangs are against eachother so there's no chance of just faking an allied gang because that's not a go. I can make us look not important if that's necessary though. As far as the toxic zone, I'll see what I can do... Probably rent some old vids to get inspired."

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, Jovan's mind, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Frightening images were flashing before Jovan's eyes.

He was back in college, listening to a lecture by one of his professors. The professor turned around, and Jovan was expecting to see his thoughtful gray eyes and aging wrinkles and compassionate smile. The professor had blood seeping from his neck, his head covered in bite marks and punctures. The professor looked at the young Jovan, and in a terrifying instant his gray eyes turned soulless black and long black gashes appeared under his eyes and a terrible unnatural scream spewed forth from his mouth, and in his face Jovan suddenly saw the face of his long-dead father.

He was gliding smoothly across a city rooftop in the dead of night. Below him, a young girl was running for her life, a teenager by the looks of it. She kept looking over her shoulder for signs that she was being followed, but she did not spot him as he flew above her in shadow. With a little effort, he reached out with his mind and bound her limbs together, letting her lose her balance and fall roughly to the ground. He descended upon her even as she screamed, and as he tore into her jugular vein, he saw Lethe. He tried to scream and stop himself, but his body would not heed him as it punctured her throat hungrily.

He was a teenager in high school again, and he was at a museum on a field trip with his classmates and bunch of kindergartners from another school. As he was gazing up at a large holopic of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, someone behind him pulled out a sub-machine gun and started gunning people down. He saw teachers run for cover with the children closest to them, and he saw children fall down dead with bullet holes through their heads and necks and chests. There was a sudden pain, and he was thrown backwards as a bullet tore into his shoulder. As he writhed in agony on the floor, the murderer came up to him and pointed his gun at Jovan's head. Jovan looked up, and through the blood and the clouding vision he saw himself, with a cold smile on his pale white face and pure hatred in his eyes. The doppelganger Jovan pulled the trigger.

The nosferatu woke up screaming and shaking.

And then, in exhaustion, he fall back into slumber after catching his breath. It's only a dream, Jovan. he assured himself shakily.

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:30 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"Jesus Fuck!"
After an hour and a half of work, the blimp had broken free of its moorings and shot up into the rafters. The resulting cacophony of steel plating crashing into steel girders filled the whole warehouse with a resonating echo so nasty it drove chills up even the jaded old doctor's spine.
"How the hell did I put this thing on before? This shit is ridiculous"
He threw down his tools in disgust.

Just then he heard a scream of pain and terror coming from the back offices. "Oh shit!"
<<@Danny: Did you just shoot our prisoner?>>
<<@Oswald: No, Why?>>
<<@Danny: Oh hell. I'll go check on Jovan. Activate 'defense protocol H.' That means my biomonitor acts up, you, well.. I programmed you so, yeah, you know what to do...>>
<<@Oswald: I hope he doesn't turn...>>
<<@Danny: Pray your little mechanical heart out.>>

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:30 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Ferret had been enjoying a pleasant afternoon snooze in the back of his van when he was awoken by crashing and faint screams. Jolting alert in his seat, he quickly checks the van's sensors. When he spots Oswald struggling with the blimp, he simply shakes his head at the old man's antics and relaxes again.

Guess I should get back to work too.

Settling down more comfortably in the chair, he sets a mental alarm for 6 PM and then scuttles off through the matrix, back towards the DMV node.

[Acme]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:30 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Acme had passed out himself, snoozing in a chair. The others had made plans but hadn't seemed ready to go out yet so he'd spent the first half hour communing with the spirits, trying to figure out ways to get what they wanted done well. This remaining time he'd spent sleeping off the drain from healing the prisoner. But the sudden clanging and screaming woke him up.

"Huh? Wha's going on?"

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Professor leaps to intercept Oswald before he goes into Jovan's temporary sleeping quarters. "It's alright. I'll check. It'll be easier all around."

Professor checks out Jovan, and finds him back asleep already. He can only imagine the kinds of dreams this man must be experiencing. Yeah... 'man'. A different perspective indeed, once you actually meet one of them. Of course, some men are ....

Back in the main room, he explains, "Just a dream."

He continues to work on the plan. "Look. Jovan is still out. Oswald is clearly not interested in sleep, but he is still working on his vehicle. When it's ready, he can be skywatch again. Nobody has come up with an alternative to the plan I have proposed, so why don't we act, instead of just sitting around, nodding off? Rusty could be at the bar already. Let's leave directions for Jovan for when he wakes, and we can wake him early through his commlink if necessary.

"Thirty's new ride can take the four of us, and on the way over Acme can do his mojo to make us fit in, or be unobtrusive at least. Let's go!" He heads towards Thirty's vehicle.

[HugeC]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Thirty looks up from the Shin's owners manual, which he has been perusing for the last little while, playing around with the car's settings. Since he can't fit into the driver's seat until he has it modified, he heads for the passenger side and says, "You get to drive, Professor!"

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"I'd be happy to do that." Professor replies. "I suspect Ferret is a better driver, though. You up for it Ferret, or is there something you need to do on the way over?"

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

Ferret has barely settled into his seat when Professor wakes him with his question.

Ah well, if the Shin gets shot to shit before I get to change the registration, I guess that solves that problem.

"I'm better on two wheels than four, but with the help of the autopilot I guess I won't crash into anything. Don't expect any fancy driving though, I'm strictly an old lady driver in a car. If Thirty's worried about getting it shot up we can take the van instead. Most of the Crushers know it and won't shoot at us. And if they do, its got more armor. Someone would have to sit in back though."

Ferret yawns and starts sorting through his gear, pulling out a custom machine pistol and some spare magazines.

"I guess I can get my fixer to deliver the gear to us, rather than swing past his place. He'll be happier about that anyway as he'll stay anonymous and will make more cred for delivering the stuff."

<<@Beetle. Change of plans. Looks like I'm gonna need the stuff delivered after all. We'll be staking out a place called Cheap-Ohs. It's at {location}. Yeah, I know that's in Stilleto territory and yes I'll pay the 'danger' fee. Just gimme a price and tell your delivery boy to give me a call when he get's there.>>

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"An armored van sounds like a great idea. I'll take the chump seat in the back."

[HugeC]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 2:31 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"Your van is the better choice if we won't get shot at, let's do that."

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 4:00 PM, Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett

"And that's how you do that."
Oswald had managed to remove the cocoon and re-balance the whole blimp in quick time. Having the others help him tie it down after that first... mishap.. had been a good call.
"Bye bye rocket chair. You were fun while you lasted. Now though, I need to get this hunk of armor put back in the car if I'm going to have the Rover ready by nightfall.

Oswald moved the blimp and it's moors along the sliding rail overhead, until it was out of the way. Then he mentally commanded the Rover to park right next to the now-freed cocoon.
"...So good I oughta write a book."

[Red-ROM]

Friday 9/11/71 . 4:00pm. 23rd street, "Glow City"

The crew took a while to get moving. They helped Oswald get situated and arranged a meet with beetle for supplies. Ferret weaseled his way through the barrens for about an hour, Avoiding major ambush sites and looking for navigable asphalt. It was late in the afternoon when they hit the main strip in Glow City. There was a strange juxtaposition of the temperature increasing ever so slightly, and the people on the street wearing more clothes. People had sunglasses and raggedy umbrellas and old army gear or pieces of plastic wrapped around them. Many buildings had torn up radiation suites covering the windows or bits of steel. The lake was visible between buildings, only a block away, and the sunlight seemed to make things look dry and brittle; The walls, the street, The faces walking by. There were millions of RFID tags blurting ads or marking Stiletto turf. The matrix signal itself was spotty, but functional. The two points of interest lay straight ahead, Twisters on the left, and cheap-Ohs a couple doors up on the right. It was still early for the nightlife to be out, but plenty of addicts were shuffling in for their fix of choice, be it drugs, sex, or alcohol. The Astral space is haunted with suffering, slow and painful suffering. This was a terrible place to die. The poisoning of the metahuman souls has left the mana here twisted.
Cheap-Oh's was a run down Trid palace complete with the old holo-marquee that now read "We spread for cred!" and had two hot women stripping over and over. There was a Thick necked human with a metal blade protruding four inches from his head like a mohawk. he wore leathers and sunglasses and patted a buddy of his with a similar get up save for a bald head tattooed to look like a face winking at the sky. A woman approached, draped in an army jacket. The man with the head razor smacked her ass as she entered the club. To the right of the club was a parking deck turned squatter apartments and to the left, an alley and unmarked office building that house god knows what.