IC: Post or Die, Lifelines, and deadlines Options

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM. 23rd street, "Glow City"

"The kid told me that Rusty was up the street fixing someone's bike. Don't know that that piece of info matters, but we should all have it." Professor looks up the street to see if there is an obvious bike, and anyone standing by it.

"I'm curious to know why Rusty would go into the broken up Twisters rather than the untouched Cheap-Ohs."

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM. 23rd street, "Glow City"

"I just took delivery of 4 respirators and some bargaining material for Snot if he comes back. Shoulda mentioned him sooner, sorry about that. Can one of you guys deposit 300 in this account: {account number}?"

Ferrest curses under his breath about missing Snot. He switches off all the the cheap links he has been playing with. Eyes on the job, Ferdinand.

"Don't much matter why he's going in there instead of the strip joint. Let's just go have a word with him."

Ferret tucks the MP in his pants and hops out of the van, determined to make up for not paying attention earlier. He locks it mentally and slaves it to his comm as he hustles across the street to catch up with the others.

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:20 PM, Oswald's Rover, near the body mall, Redmond

As soon as the Rover came to a bumpy stop, Jovan got up and maneuvered himself carefully into the back, where their prisoner lay in a drug-induced coma. Crouching beside the unconscious "Jack," Jovan stretched out his bony white hands and placed them on either side of the man's face. He reached out with his mind and began draining away Jack's life force - just a bit, no more than would be necessary to counteract the poisonous effects of the nearby background count. Still, it was a little difficult to keep himself from totally draining the life out of this man, as the sadistic euphoric bliss he felt from draining his prey's life away could be a bit... overwhelming at times.

A predator rejuvenated, the nosferatu now moved to remove the traces he had left from Jack's memory. With a bit of concentration, he obliterated the memory of his presence during the earlier interrogation from Jack's mind. Jack would not remember ever meeting Jovan when he woke. Jovan returned to his seat in the middle of the Rover, trying to ignore his new splitting headache and thinking to himself that both he and Jack would be better off without that memory of their interaction. "'The memory be green,'" he muttered as he sat again, awaiting further word on the situation with Rusty.

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM, Oswald's Rover, near the body mall, Redmond

Cocoon goes in the Rover. Man goes in the cocoon. Vampire's in the Rover. Our vampire. "Hehehehehe..ahh"
<<Well, we're near by and ready to get on the scene if you guys should find yourselves in need of heavy responders. I don't want to put up a flag by keeping the blimp directly on the scene two nights in a row. Predictability is a weakness we'd best try and avoid. We're already pretty high profile as it is..>>

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM, 23rd street, "Glow City"


<<Just a blimp on the radar, eh Oswald?>>

[HugeC]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM, 23rd street, "Glow City"

Thirty chuckles at Professor's pun, and says, "Allright boys, let's get into character." He sets his face as desperate-yet-determined once more and leads the way through the entrance to Twisters.

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22:10 PM, 23rd street, "Glow City"

Ferret hustles briskly across the street to catch up with the others. His shoulders are set square and his head is up. He keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead and avoids eye-contact, while still trying to watch everything around him out of his peripheral vision. AR helps, but with the static down here, not so much. What did work was attitude.

Even then, too much or too little would get you wasted. The trick was to have just enough to look like you weren't worth the effort. Being short, he had learned the hard way. Luckily, the Crushers had taken him under their wing and while he had endured plenty of humiliation and a few bruises before they had accepted him as one of their own, they at least hadn't killed him, or tortured and then killed him, or worse.

Following the Prof, Acme and Thirty into Twisters, he grumbles, "Enough of this shit. Time for some answers."

[Acme]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22:10 PM, 23rd street, "Glow City"

Acme nodded. This seemed to give him flashbacks to when he was a member of the First Nations. Skulking around a seedy area of town that he wasn't really supposed to be in, in order to score a shipment-- in this case information-- it sort of made him fall into old muscle memory. His jacket fell open, and he hunkered down, looking like he was at home on the streets. He hadn't had to scrape for years, but old habits died hard and now he needed to show that he was just another street walker like the guys he was going with. "A'ight, we get in and get the fix, then we're on our tails outta here," he said, his voice shifting down to be more AmerInd-accented, like when he was just fresh out of Phoenix and under Ghost's wing for the first time.

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22:10 PM, 23rd street, "Glow City"

Way out of his element here, Professor wished they were in the Himalayas, or the Yucatan, places where he understood he rules. Here, it was a different jungle, and the animals played by no rules he understood. Acme and Ferret changed their body language, and seemed to meld in. As well as he could, Professor emulated them.

He took on the role of radar for the team, as much out of his own apprehension as out of a practical application of his talents. Damn, the very air is redolent with despair.

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM, Oswald's Rover, near the body mall, Redmond

Jovan did not open his eyes or stop rubbing his brow slightly to try to lessen his accursed headache, but a slight frown appeared momentarily on his face. Clearly, people like this old man had no actual knowledge or respect for the superiority of a nosferatu's senses. <<@Oswald: Something funny, old man?>> he asked irritably.


He thought it likely that these people didn't even know what a nosferatu was, which, on the other hand, was probably to his advantage. He wasn't terribly familiar with the details of his fellow Infected himself. Perhaps that would be a prudent choice of research once this little job was done and he could return to the peace of solitude. He shook his head slightly, to clear his mind. Now is not the time for these musings. Focus.

Jovan opened a new message in his commlink to get back to work. There was still much about this job that he felt still required investigation. <<@Professor: You were a member of the initial composition of our little gang, correct? When this job was first assigned to us? What do you know thus far of our employer or employers?>>

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, entering Twisters

<<@Jovan:Not a lot. I'll fill you in on the details shortly. We are just entering Twisters where Rusty has been spotted. I have to keep my attention focused. This whole neighbourhood feels like a hell hole and I want to get out of here as soon as I can. The background count must be eating at you, too.>>

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:22 PM, Oswald's Rover, near the body mall, Redmond

"Haha. Oh, I'm just amused by your tendency to consistently pull up a little Shakespeare. Hamlet, act one scene two, right? I forget the greater significance... By the way, you don't have to speak over the comms frequency. I'm hooked into the vehicle's sound. And, uh, it's a good thing, since we need to talk about what we're going to do with old "Jack" back there. He's sort of in your seat, ..that is if you want me to heal you as you push your magic to its extremes. That's the sort of thing I can do."

Oswald clicked on his messaging liner and leaned back. Maybe I should move the air support a little closer. A two minute response time isn't ideal. Should be able to cover a klick in a minute, so I'll just move it... here.

"So what are you thinking about for astral support? We should be ready to move in at a moment's notice. Our partners out there are all alone in the middle of a hostile crap hole. You know, risking their asses while we, as the smarter folks, are staying well away."

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, entering Twisters

Twisters stood between an old apartment building and a burned out supermarket. The two story structure looks like it collapsed onto the market next door, and then got rebuilt without being torn down. The roof slants cartoonishly to the left. The front has been made over with a big sign reading "Twisters" swerving across the facade in giant crooked letters. The door was straight and unmanned. No music was heard within. Professor's gaze made a sweep of the area. Most of Glow City's denizens hurried their way through the dimming light and hovering moisture. A few stood defiant, staring at nothing or watching for who knows what. A few faces looked down from windows, or the parking deck across the way. It was hard to pick a threat from paranoia. Nothing waved a red flag yet. As the team made their way through the small red door, the world tilted left into a narrow hallway. A single bulb on a chain hung to the right, defying gravity. Two large open doorways flanked them, and beyond the hallway tilted again and turned to the right. The two rooms leaned back towards the hall for the most part, but the floor curved like crumpled bed sheets. The bar on the far wall in the left room was fairly level, just a slight wave for effect. Aside from the one light in the hall, the place was almost black. A beed of light around the bar, maybe two low intensity bulbs on the wall. there were broken bulbs everywhere, as well as chairs and tables. The bar had nothing to serve but broken glass. Even the walls had holes in them. For those with good enough vision, the rooms were covered in blood and bullet holes. It looked like someone had tried to mop it up, but gave up halfway through. There were a few people here regardless. a couple of guys laid in the floor, dead to the world and drooling on themselves. And a woman spun around giggling, and tripping over debree. Sitting on the floor of the hall was a helmet. And from deeper within could be heard some low talking between a man and a woman.

[HugeC]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, Twisters

Thirty takes his gun from its holster, which seems to him to take a very long time. He strains to hear what the voices are saying, but the warped mana resident in Glow City has taken his enhanced senses away, and he is unable to make it out. He carefully picks his way towards the conversing voices through the broken glass and debris, trying to make as little noise as possible, but when he steps on what he thinks is a clear floor tile, it snaps under his weight, and he curses under his breath involuntarily. A stealthy entrance blown, he proceeds, keeping one eye on the other inhabitants of the building, particularly the spinning woman, in case they decide to get violent.

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, Twisters

Shit, shit, shit thinks Ferret as Thirty takes his gun from its holster. The big ork seems a bit out of sorts, stepping noisily through the debris. Ferret draws his own gun, clasping it police style in both hands, muzzle pointing down and to the side. The targeting reticle floats at the corner of his peripheral vision as he mentally switches the firing mode to burst and clicks off the safety.

He nods in the direction of the man and woman's voices. While waiting for the others to move on, he lets his mind caress the helmet lying on the floor. One can't be too careful!

[Acme]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, entering Twisters

Following with his teammates, Acme hunkers into a defensive position, looking around the ruined storefront for potential threats. He wonders idly what the hell happened, and why people just seemed so... jaded with the mess around. There was a good possibility that this place was shot up a long time ago, and these "patrons" were either squatters or just used to how it looked.

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, entering Twisters

Professor worries a bit about the sudden drawing of weapons. Are we about to shoot Swagger J.? He searches the premises for the one who matches the boy's description of Rusty. He distances himself a few meters from the two with drawn weapons, finding a line among the tables and debris that will allow a quick exit if necessary. Physical and behavioural distance may provide us with options for action. And an angle for crossfire doesn't hurt, either.

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:23 PM, Oswald's Rover, near the body mall, Redmond

"It is referring to the freshness of memory of King Hamlet's death, a key factor in the mourning Prince Hamlet's disgust towards the degradation and violation of tradition inherent in his mother's speedy marriage to his uncle Claudius. Not totally unlike the degradation of the people out here, methinks, but it matters not," Jovan replied in slight exasperation, though it was unclear whether his exasperation was directed toward Oswald or his headache. "If the Twisters building is visible from the air out here, then my elemental can hover just outside the Glow City domain and provide momentary long-range distraction as we move in. I can work from there easily enough. And don't you have anything else in this vehicle to keep him unconscious besides that chair?"

<<@Professor: A bit. Try to avoid making a scene, please. >>

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:24 PM, Twisters

The delerious woman falls to the floor in the dark with a breathy laugh and a crunch of glass. The voices beyond had stopped when they heard Thirty approaching. Ferret's scan of the helmet turned up nothing but a rudimentary saftey device, but it also revealed a Sensor tag stuck to the ceiling. Thirty rounded the corner to see a hall ending in stairs and another room to the left with better lighting. There were three figures sitting on torn up couches. Two battery lanterns lit up most of this large space, but the rolling floor and broken tables and sound equipment cast heavy shadows. The man in the poncho was an older man, maybe upper forties. His hair was mostly gray with some red still hanging in there. A woman sat across from him, orc features, but skin as red as fire trucks. She had been crying, and her eyes were large and wet. They seemed to almost float in front of her face than rest in their sockets. She was dressed in party clothes with her black hair pulled into pony tails with light up strawberries. She was being comforted by a human in a leather jacket. A real thin fellow with green hair and glowing face paint. The thin man had a beretta tucked in his pants, and Rusty's hands were hidden under his poncho. The woman was the first to speak,"We're closed, ain't got shit to sell"

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:24 PM, Twisters

Hmmm. Hands under the poncho. Bet he isn't in a 'playful' mood.

Professor continues his separate trajectory attempting to set up a right angle, with the trio at the vertex, him at one arm, preferably with a table giving him some cover, and the others forming the second arm. He answers the woman, "Don't mean to interrupt a private conversation. We're looking for someone. Hoping you can help."

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:24 PM, Oswald's Rover, near the body mall, Redmond

Oswald checked the Rover's sensor banks again nervously. The military-grade radar system he dropped in this armored transport of his was making wide sweeps and picking up a fair amount of traffic. Parking, what for all intents and purposes was a VIP escort vehicle, in a mostly empty hospital lot like this was going to make it stick out a good bit. But wide open ground should be a decent defense against the only real threat, someone sneaking up on them. Not that it should matter too much. The hospital was crawling with junkies and freaks looking to get set up with scavenged cyberware. Maybe there were a few amateur cybermonsters looking to step up to something next level. They might try and cause some problems, but Oz felt like the vehicles armor should be able to shake off the kind of firepower that someone might bring shopping at, what'd the sign say? The Redmond Body Mall? For a moment, Oz wondered if Heka made it here, and, if he did, whether the locals just dumped him out and stole his car... No these people wouldn't have wasted a perfectly good cadaver like that. No doubt his organs were on their way to some needful purpose. That should be nice.

Well, no one seems to want to keep me in the loop here. Jovan's totally right though. Air spirit can keep the Sky-pod hidden, then i can keep an eye on the outside while they work. Maybe I won't have to bother with the frag grenade I planted under his seat.. fucking threaten me in my own home...

"Excellent idea, Jovan. I usually just blast the smoke projectors every now and then to break up the blimps outline and make it look like a cloud. An actual air spirit should do way better. Though, before we go burning ourselves out and moving bodies around, I should check with the others to see if a conscious Jack is a valuable commodity. As it is, under the light sedation I have him on now, I should be able to wake him in about a minute. If we're going to take him out of the med-bed, I'll have to hit him with a general anesthetic that'll put him under for hours."

<<Any of you guys need Jack to vouch for you or feed you some local knowledge? I've got him on tap here, but I'm getting ready to put him under for a bit so we can work more efficiently.>>

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:24 PM, Twisters

Ferret snags the sensor's ID for now. He will check it later if they get nothing from Rusty or the woman. As he follows Thirty into the room, he lets his right arm fall to his side so that while the gun is still visible, it is held in a non-threatening manner. He takes up a position just to the side and a step behind Thrity, so that he has a good view of the three people, but can quickly drop into cover if things go south. The woman seems unarmed and although the skinny guy has a pistol, he is more concerned about what Rusty, if that is who the old geezer actually is, has under his coat.

"Yeah, and we suspect that your previous visitors might also be looking for this fellow. It think it would be much better for his health if we were to find him before they do."

[HugeC]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:24 PM, Twisters

Thirty holds up his hands in a placating gesture and slowly puts his gun back into its holster. "You must be Strawberry," he says, looking at the ork woman. "And I'm guessing you guys are Rusty and Ted-E, right? Listen, Jack's alive, and safe for now, but he needs your help. The heat that's on him is because of his connection with Big Daddy Long Legs. If you can put us in touch with Big Daddy, hopefully we can get the goons that trashed this place off your backs, let you all get back to living your lives. Whaddya say?"

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:25 PM, Twisters

"Tedd-E's dead!" The young clubbers said, almost in unison. Strawberry wiped her nose on a rag and looked to Thirty with a tear hanging from the bottom of her bulbous eye,"You guys don't sound any different than the crew that tore this place up earlier. And who's Jack?"The kid in the green face paint thought about the gun at his hip. It was plain on his face, but he decided against it for somewhat obvious reasons.
Rusty shifted a little to keep everyone in front of him. Ferret has detected his comm in passive mode, no real activity. Rusty seems tired and worried, but he's also seems hardened by life and ready for whatever is thrown at him."I think Jay might have given them a false name, but it sounds like they got him somewhere. Everybody's After B.L. huh? Well I know B.L. Probably don't want to be found." He watches Thirty with a cold stare,"I also know you guys might as well dig your own grave if you think your gonna go after him, uninvited." He looks to the cherry skinned girl for a moment, then back to Thirty "Look, ain't nobody here knows where he lives but me, and I haven't been able to get hold of him in the last week. Why don't you Let your captive go."

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 7:25 PM, Twisters

Professor pipes up now. "We're not the other team. We're not interested in tearing anybody's place up. Your friend is safely in our custody. B.L.'s attitude and what he might do to us is our concern. Fact is, however tough he is, there are people a lot worse gunning for him. The people that tore this place up are on the gunning side of things, too. We just want to talk to him. Coming to terms with our request will end run around the others, and keep him alive and doing business with you, Rusty. Now, please tell us all about how you make contact with B.L."