IC: Post or Die, Lifelines, and deadlines Options

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:35 PM, East Redmond, Crusher's turf

Professor break out in a laugh at Amber's last comment. The others look at him quizzically. He just shakes his head and waves them off.

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:35 pm East Redmond, Crusher's Turf

The mercenary looked at Jovan with a stoic face. His body remained tense againts the mystical restraints. To Jovan's initial question he responded,"Viper 5, stateless marine, no corporate affiliation."The man's brown eyes stared just past his interrogator into nowhere.

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:35 pm East Redmond, Crusher's Turf

"Viper 5, then. That will suffice. Let us begin. Firstly, I want you to tell me about the rest of the Vipers: what they can do, how they think. I'm particularly interested in information on Viper 12, your Awakened personnel, and any more exotic members of your group. And of course," he said, as he subtly and firmly implanted a suggestion in the mercenary's mind to make him more inclined to talk about his companions, "any other information on them is important as well.

Secondly, I understand that you are currently out here searching for someone or something. I want to know how long you have been out here searching, and what pertinent information you have uncovered in your search.

Thirdly, whether you are on this hunt of your group's own volition or are acting as somebody's agent. It matters little that you claim to have no corporate affiliation; if your team is being used as someone else's pawn, you must explain that to me. Speak now, Viper 5. What are your answers?"

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:35 PM, Redmond, Ferret's Van

<<@ Amber: There was a helicopter crash. It just didn't blow up right away, so I helped it along. If you don't know how to drive through gang turf, I'll help steer you around any blocked off streets to get to the Northern Crush checkpoint. Keep your head low and your tint high..>>

Oswald shifted his attention fully to the blimp and watched the road.

[J. Packer]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:37 PM, In the Honda, heading to Redmond

<<@Oswald: I would greatly appreciate that, hon. This little rollerskate of a car isn't exactly designed to take on go-gangers in a head-to-head - a particularly cybered-up thrill ganger could catch it on foot.>>

That's what I get for buying cute...

Seeing what looks like a Star cruiser, she downshifts and quickly reduces speed to the posted maximum. Passing by, she sees that it's not a corp cop after all, but an Ares fleet vehicle pulled over with a mechanical glitch. No longer paranoid, she ups the speed back to 80 and sails along as quickly as she can.

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:38 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Satisfied that his van is now bug free, Ferret climbs back into the driver seat and slumps down in the comfy chair with a sigh. He plays back the messages from their new team member, his imagination running riot at her description of herself. That at least raises his spirit's somewhat.

Been quite a day Ferdinand old boy, but you are still alive. Which is more than can be said for some.

He casts a forlorn glance at Oswald's van where Thrirty was encased in the autodoc, then shivers at the thought of what the secretive mage Jovan was doing to the captured Viper.

Ah well, job's not done yet and Throgg will want paid for escorting Strawberry and Jack out of town. Best get back to work.

<<@Throgg: Got another team member coming into Barrens. Again, please don't shoot her or y'know doing anything untoward to her. She's driving some toy car and describes herself as 'five-ten, long, curly red hair, leather catsuit. Impossibly chesty. An aggressive, bisexual nymphomaniac. Just like every girl 'runner on the trideo...' I think she might be exaggerating a little on those vital statistics but I'll hang onto that image until I see her in the flesh.>>

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Throgg told Ferret that he would let the boys know, but if she did match such a description, there was no saving her.
Oswald watched from his blimp like some electronic deity. He watched the approach of the small car bumping along the shoddy streets. He could also see Lonestar lights flickering in the distance. On his radar, a large chopper was entering the area, but didn't seem to be heading their way.
Amber rattled along through crowds of gangers and street people. The buildings were all crumbling and unmarked, but she was pulling up to the coordinates and it looked like the right place. A bustling bar and a conspicuously untagged van full of people. The trids may have been based in a little more truth than she gave them credit for.

Viper 5 had planned to repeat himself as long as he could. but he couldn't stop himself from talking,"The Vipers are a small Mercenary group. Different backgrounds and Nationalities, all military trained. We are a freelance army. We do a lot of anti corp missions for government bodies that need deniability. Last month, we fragged an Island building operation near Key West." He seemed to be rambling now. Talking about anything that he could think of," Aztechnology was taking advantage of some disputed water off the coast of the Caribbean League. We put that project years behind, and they don't know if it was The C.L. or the C.A.S. behind it. The general doesn't have anything against the Megacorps really, he's just used to working for governments. It seems more legit. Personally, I could give a rat's ass. I'm just trying to get paid." He moved his head to look around, and realizing he could still move in some ways, he started to wriggle to the side, working on sitting up.

As Amber's car came to a stop, a small glowing figure appeared between the vehicles, facing the van. It was a spirit, small with the look of an Aborigine. It spoke to no one in particular,"We seek our surviving warrior. We had called a truce. If you have not accepted, there will be war."

[J. Packer]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

At the arrival of the spectral figure, Amber stops before she can pop the hatch on the Honda.

If I know anything, it's that magic and I don't mix...

<<[Amber]@Team: I'm here, and I didn't bring the little brown guy...>>

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Professor racked his brain for any communication they might have received suggesting a truce. Maybe it was the confusion, maybe the background count fogging his brain, but he was having difficulty nailing down anything that fit the bill.

He walked over to in front of the spirit. In the past, this form of bravado seemed to him to be more stupidity than bravery, but social discourse in this environment had different rules, different syntax and grammar. He looked directly into the spirits eyes, such as they were. "Which action of yours was the declaration of truce? The helicopter falling out of the sky, or the SUV turning tail and running?"

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

The new woman's message sent paranoid alerts through Jovan's brain. He was getting rather exasperated with unpleasant surprises today. <<@team: What is happening? Who has found us now?!>>

All of you, on alert immediately. Alert me if you see anything unusual.

Even when growing tense and paranoid, Jovan could still remain cold and predatory towards a victim - for nosferatu are nothing if not mentally and emotionally abnormal. "You will not move unless I bid you do so, and I have little immediate interest in your team's job history. I am interested in your team's capabilities and mentalities, your leader and Awakened members, the job you are on, and which government hired you. Finish answering my questions, Viper 5. I will not repeat myself."

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Ferret jolts upright in his chair at the spirit's appearance, his recent experience with the snake spirit still raw in his mind. His van starts up and begins reversing away from the little spirit.

<<@team: There's another spirit here. Just a little one. It's claiming we have a truce with the Vipers and is asking for the one Jovan's currently torturing back. Or else!>>

He scans around both visually and electronically, looking for possible attackers.

[Acme]

[quote name='Notsoevildm' date='Jan 14 2011, 02:04 AM' post='1030746']
Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Acme shakes his head groggily, blinking. Things were getting there.. But now things were falling apart again. He wanted to comment on the new arrival's sense of humor, but now the spirit showed up. <<@all: That doesn't sound like a truce, that sounds like asking us to surrender and naming its terms...>>

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:40 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Oz watched the little glowing figure though the gun sights. Paaah... Fucking hate spooks. <<@team:Bosslady said something about an agreement. That the Vipers had some parallel deal with BDLL and wouldn't be looking for the same thing we are. That's horse shit. They attacked when they thought we'd found our merchandise. So, way I figure, the word of a stranger that'd kill so readily isn't worth shit. I know mine isn't. Anyway, the words I got from Ms. Sliver were that the Vipers could provide "no guarantees about the people on the ground," so I figured this guy was fair game. Besides, torture? No. Just a little magical mind work. I'm watching his vitals with the medkit. He's scared, sure, but not in pain. Point is Joe's just asking some questions. Only reason to be scared of that would be if they're lying. His story matches up with the party line and I suppose we could let him go. Anyway, someone tell this spook that we're not just going to loose the guy and trust he walks home safe. How about a drop-off location. We drop him, then we tell them where. I'm sick of these assholes following us around.>>

Oz stood up and walked shakily over to where the apparition had appeared.

"Truce, hunh? That joke wasn't funny the first time I heard it. Who the hell attacks during a peace-talk and then expects us to believe them when they say 'that was the last time?' What kind of thought process it that? Your boss is somehow stupider than the fuck-ups who decided that massacring an entire bar was a good way of gathering info. What assurances can he grant, besides his word as a mass-murderer?" If anyone present thought they'd get through the day without seeing a frail old man giving a ghost the finger, they were mistaken. It was generally an easy mistake to make.

His piss and vinegar spent, Oswald shuffled back towards the van's doors and sat down. He immediately called up an AR window and took in the sky. Forewarned is forearmed.

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

<<@team: I'm with you on this one, Oswald. I'm waiting for the spirit to relay whatever response they want to give to my taunt. As far as I'm concerned, we've been targets right up until now, with no evidence of a truce from them. Not sure what to think about boss lady knowing about these guys but not telling us ahead of time, maybe having different teams on the go here.>>

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

<<Suffice to say that it would better serve us not to release him at all. I am disinclined to elaborate, as I am a bit busy right now, but I give you my word of honor on this. As for this truce that someone so conveniently neglected to mention to the rest of us... in technical terms, a truce is by definition the calling of a cease-fire, a temporary cessation of hostilities between two conflicting parties. This does not, in most cases, apply to the taking of prisoners - only to the violence of the conflict itself. And indeed, "no guarantees about the people on the ground" leaves little room for interpretation.>>

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

<<So glad Jovan is on the same page here. This thing looks like a spirit to me.>>

[J. Packer]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

<<[Amber] @Team: Guys, talking is kinda my thing. My wee gun isn't going to do much for that spook, but I could try to arrange a face to face, do a bit of dickering, buy some time...>>

[pbangarth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

<<@team[Professor]:Amber, that sounds like a good idea. Dive right in, as it were. Come on over and join me at the spirit, and let's see if parleying will happen. At the very least, you will provide a second target for the spirit.>>

[J. Packer]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Amber mentally pops the release on the canopy and, gathering her machine pistol, makes her way over to stand near the spirit. Contrary to her earlier comm, Amber is not a leggy redhead, but in fact closer to 3'9" - in heels - than 5'9", with her straight, shiny brown hair in a chinlength bob - very "now" - and clothes that look like she just got through with her 9-5 job and decided to hit the town.

"This is hardly the best way to make arrangements, you know, sending a spook to do a man's job as it were. Let's see if we can't get our people and yours into the same space together, come to a mutually beneficial conclusion?"

[Red-ROM]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Professor eyed the spirit as Amber made her debut onto the scene. The spirit before them was had not materialized at all, it was manifesting from the astral plane. This was definitly a watcher spirit. It paused a moment as it relayed the message to it's master. The glowing face stared suspiciously at the woman that addressed it last. Finally, it spoke. Relaying another message,"We have made our arrangements with your employer. It is your team that has taken action against us. We did not attack you. If you don't wish to cooperate, so be it. You will make an enemy this day."

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:41 PM, Redmond, Oswald's rover

Viper 5 pressed his head against the side of the truck and continued to shift his body as best he could, but the conversation did get a little more focus,"Twelve core members with a few dozen recruits in and out. Most of the team is special forces or specialists in their field. two mojo slingers, I don't know much about them. Money's tight, but we got the know how to put a chopper or a boat together. We can make our own explosives and such. And we know what to do with military grade hardware when we get our hands on it. The general is some hot shot black op's type. too old now, but sharp. He wasn't real involved in this mess here. I imagine he will be though. As far as who hired us, we were just trying to collect some gear we bought from Big Daddy. We paid him, but he never came through with the goods. so a few of us came up here to find him and get our shit. How about you guys? Did he stiff your crew too?"

[Sephiroth]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:42 PM, Redmond, Oswald's rover

Jovan considered what the mercenary had said. "Ours is not unlike your situation, but do not try to make me sympathize with you by rationalizing away your motives, Viper 5. Particularly after the wave of brutality and destruction that your team visited upon the Twisters bar. If you have any other relevant information on your general, tell it to me; a name would be particularly desirable. In addition, tell me what you know of this Long Legs person. You have met him in the past, and you presumably have been searching for him in earnest in order to get your gear. What information on him do you possess?"

[Saint Sithney]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:42 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Oz was trying to keep his mind on the Radar, but he couldn't help but listen in on this spirit... or contain himself under the control of this drug.

"Ha!" he ejaculated from his perch on the van. "If you didn't attack us, then we must not have your man. See, the guy we've got was directly involved in an attack on our group, and since your people didn't attack us, he couldn't possibly be one of yours! What a wacky misunderstanding! We should really team up to track down these impostors! See, there's a group of guys out there who have repeatedly attacked us calling themselves 'The Twelve Vipers.' I'll give you a quick description so you won't miss them if you happen across one. They like using snake icons when they attack us from the Matrix and like sending snake spirits when they try and kill us from the Astral. They enjoy using numerical designations and throwing tantrums like pissy little children with automatic weaponry. I could read you a tantrum transcript I pulled off the net if you like, but, really, this info ought to be enough to get you started... Now, go! Find the impostors, and wreak non-snake-obsessed vengeance upon them!"

<<@Acme: Joe's busy at the moment. Could you rustle up a spirit to go track this mage down? I imagine that when his line of bullshit runs out, we'll be dealing with another snake spirit. It would be good to prepare for that inevitability.>>

[Notsoevildm]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, Ferret's van

Ferret raises an eyebrow at the short dwarven woman standing next to the Prof. This was Amber. His mental image of her goes 'pop' as he looks her up and done.

5'9", nope. Although I guess 3'9" is more my height anyway. Red hair, nope. Although a dye job would fix that. Impressive chest, nope. Guess that just leaves 'agressive bisexual nymphomaniac'. Although that was probably a lie too.

He smiles a self-depreciating smile. Ah well, It's not like she's gonna be interested in a forty-plus hacker that lives in his van.

While his mind drifts, the other part of his brain is sniffing out her icon and keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding matrix nodes.

<<@team: Tell the messenger spirit that we got their boy and that if they want him back in one piece, they better keep to the fragging truce.>>

[Acme]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

Acme grit his teeth. Here it was, the first time he was really, really needed for the team and he was laid up. He groaned a bit and typed out on the keyboard, watching his credibility and usefulness to the team start to wash away.

<<@Oz: I know this sounds... like an excuse, but is there any way you can stall it for say... fifteen or twenty minutes? You have no idea how fucked up that snake made me. I'm just trying to clear my head a bit so I can actually cast without passing out. I promise, I'll eat fifteen aspirin and take three slap patches on my armpit if I can just get a little more clear-headed.>>

[J. Packer]

Friday, Sept. 11, 2071, 8:43 PM, Redmond, nearby Ferret's van

"Look," says Amber, waving in a nonchalant way with the barrel of her machine pistol. "We can stand here and argue about who did what to whom that broke whatever truce might have been building. But let's get down to brass tacks, shall we? We've got something... someone... you want. Surely that's reason enough for you to be reasonable, right?"

Sweet jesus. I've had some cold starts before, but this definitely brings new meaning to the phrase 'command performance'...