2072: Game World, IC thread for 2072: Recruitment always open! Options

[AStarshipforAnts]

[21:04 January 3rd, 2072; An as-of-yet unnamed rough part of town]

Dahlia paused, nodding once or twice to the biker as she stopped walking. The woman let her hands leave her coat pockets, leaving the knives inside, in a rough mirror gesture of non-aggression. In contrast to the troll, Dahlia’s appearance practically screamed vanilla wage-slave. If not for the slightly off-kilter grin on her face, and contacts, she probably would have looked like a little lost civilian.

“That’s good enough for me. The job’s essentially wrangling a few runners who have split up and gone to ground. Johnson wants them back alive, but they’ll be well trained. The team isn’t completely put together, yet. But, there will be at least a sniper, yourself, another brick, and me,” She kept her voice low enough that no one other than the biker and herself should have heard the conversation. But, with cyber augmentations these days, who really knew?

“I’d like to round up a sneak and some matrix support to round out the team. Perhaps a rigger or a magician, if we can manage it. If this sounds like something you’re interested, I can send you some more of the particulars. There’s a preliminary meeting in the works on the fifth of the month, if you’re interested,” Dahlia reached into her coat and produced a comlink from an interior pocket, waiting for the troll’s response.

[Grimm]

Dahlia
[21:04 January 3rd, 2072; An as-of-yet unnamed rough part of town

The troll splayed his legs wide to either side of the bike and supported it in an upright position as he retracted the stand. He leaned forward over the handlebars and studied the woman as she spoke. The troll grinned.

“Sounds like a fun job to me,” he said, wiring his own commlink info over to Dahlia. “I can go ahead and meet you at the meeting on the fifth. No problems there. Can’t say I could recommend anyone with the skill-sets you’re lookin’ for. But, I’m sure there’s someone crawling around lookin’ for work.”

He started the bike and let it idle in the middle of the street. “You want a ride to where you’re headin’? Or do you prefer broadcasting yourself as a target to the locals and gangers?”

[Combat Mage]

[21:12 January 1st, 2072; Ruined Warehouse]

Akecheta liked what he was hearing. This could turn out to be exactly what he needed, an in to the local shadow scene and a somewhat reliable basis for aquiring jobs.

"Sure Mr. Okayama, I'm always up for some work. Just send a note my way when you need something done."

After that the troll hesitated for moment, not being sure if he was dismissed for today or if there was still more to be said.

"So I'm done for now? Or is there something else?" he finally asked.

[Abschalten]

Silk
[14:25 January 1st, 2072; ShadowSEA Node]
Thirty seconds had not passed before Silk was recieving a response to her message to He-Who-Sees-Within.

<<Greetings. I am amenable to work at present. Where and when should we meet to discuss specifics? I am free today.>>

[Abschalten]

[12:25 January 5th 2072; Back Alley Workshop, Seattle]
Ultima slipped inside the workshop and rapped on the side of the doorframe to get the attention of the man at the opposite side of the room. The man was Abdul, her fixer, and one of the few people in this city with whom she had any sort of a working relationship. He beamed at her, the warmth of his smile touching even his dark, beady eyes. His swarthy complexion was lightened only by all the hours he spent indoors in his workshop and well away from the Daystar. A neatly trimmed goatee framed a smile that seemed all teeth.

"Ah! Assalamu alaikum, Ultima! It is so good to see you once again! I apologize for how long it took for me to respond to your message, but I have been terribly, terribly busy."

As if to underscore the truth of the man's words, a commlink resting on his counter began buzzing. With a glance down at the display indicating the caller, he grimaced and shook his head, ignoring it. This prompted some amazement from Ultima and she raised an eyebrow. Adbul never just ignored a caller.

Adbul must have understood her expression, for he sighed and held his hands outwards plaintively. "He will not leave me alone. Some people think loyalties should be forever, even when the heart itself changes. I have left my old life behind. The Prophet Muhammed, peace be unto him, would agree that some ties should be severed in order to keep true to one's faith."

Ultima nodded fervently. Abdul was speaking of himself, but his words were striking entirely too close to home. "I fully agree with you. I think we both have walked a similar path. Even when it would be easier to stray from it, it is still the right one, and therefore must be followed."

Abdul placed both hands on his stomach and gave a heartiful laugh. "Maybe you have not submitted to Allah, but surely he blesses you with great wisdom, Ximena." Abdul knew Ultima's real name, and while he didn't use it too often, he'd made no indications that he would ever use the knowledge against her. He took his discretion far too seriously. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to visit the mosque with me?"

She grinned. Abdul had tried his well-meaning if ham-fisted conversion attempts before, and always she'd politely rebuffed his attempts. "No, thank you. I am flattered, but you know that my mosque, my faith, it's always with me. I don't need a building to find closeness with God."

Abdul laughed again. "I think perhaps you are slightly wrong about that, my friend." His grin faded abruptly, and a shrewd expression came over him, one that meant he was getting into a more business-like candor. "In fact, I do have a business proposal for you, something that would be in your field of expertise. Would you like for me to go on?" Ultima just nodded, crossed her arms, and listened.

Abdul fiddled with his commlink for a few moments. A transluscent, rectangular blue screen flickered into existence in her AR, indicating incoming data. She accepted it, and was given the address of a building, as well as images of it from various angles. It looked like a squat, five story apartment building. It also looked as if it were practically falling apart before her eyes, even in the still photograph. Windows and doors were boarded up, and a crack ran up the side of the building all the way from the foundation to the roof.

"This building is on the edge of Redmond. Due to some uncertainties involving ownership, and some unfortunate data loss due to the Crash in '65, nobody legally owns it. There are some squatters in it, or were as of a few weeks ago. Some interested parties are undergoing gentrification of the area, trying to push some of the nasty stuff deeper into the Barrens while snatching up dirt-cheap real estate. There are visionaries like yourself who see potential in the old and delapidated buildings in that area. See what you can do about bringing that building down. Legally nobody can do it, since nobody owns it, so it is merely in the way. The people living in it will just scream Squatter's Rights, or something. While I pity them and the circumstances forcing them to live in such a building, I cannot help but think that living in there is unsafe for them. Perhaps you can talk them around to the wisdom of relocation, as you do what you need to do. It needs to be a controlled demolition, otherwise the property is useless. And... the Johnson wishes to remain out of this, and wants you to go through me. I have agreed to this. Say... 7500 nuyen for a week's work? I can't imagine it would take you any longer than that."

Ultima knew halfway through the pitch she was going to take it. Something about this job seemed right to her. She examined the photograph and saw only the potential for a new building, for new development. She also imagined this gentrification project as breathing much-needed life into the decaying infrastruction of the Redmond district. She had seen for herself what a festering sore it was turning into. Maybe, just maybe, she could help in her small way. Surely God would smile upon her for doing this.

"I'm in," she said. "Forward me all the data you have on the building. And see if the Johnson can open up an expense account. After all, plastic explosives aren't cheap."

Abdul grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Indeed they are not. And wouldn't you know it, I just happened to get a shipment in just a week ago..."

[Grimm]

Akecheta
[21:15 January 1st, 2072; Ruined Warehouse

Mr. Okayama smiled at the troll. “Very well. I will be in contact with you in short order.”

The Johnson looked over to the individual next to the garage door and made a raising motion. The lackey slid the door up to let Akecheta back out into the coming night.

OOC: If you have anything you want to do on your own volition I have no problems going through it with you. Or if you want to attempt to get into Dahlia’s run we can see about getting you worked in there. Or we can just cover some time until Mr. Okayama is ready to continue with his work.

[Aria]

[14:34 January 1st, 2072; Coffee Shop, University Campus, Downtown Seattle]

Excellent, things were moving…hopefully He-Who-Sees-Within would be as fast as his response.

<<I’m downtown in the university district. How about meeting in Ravenna Park? If we make the meet early enough we should be there before the really dangerous predators come out to play. Shall we say at 3.30? Call me when you arrive and I’ll ping you my exact location.>>

Silk flashed the attendants a reasonable tip for her coffee, not ostentatious and not too low, just enough to be unnoticeable, and headed back out in to the drizzle and already fading light. She wanted to scope out the park and find a suitable location where they could talk without being overheard.

[AStarshipforAnts]

[21:05 January 3rd, 2072; An as-of-yet unnamed rough part of town]

Dahlia sent over the information she’d been given from Mr. Watson, as well as her own contact number. With that done, the comlink disappeared back into the woman’s dark winter coat. She had to pause for a heartbeat or so, considering the troll’s offer. On one hand, Dahlia had to at least maintain some sense of normalcy, the illusion of normalcy, in her life. On the other hand, it was a long walk back to the apartment. The woman’s facial expression didn’t change as the thoughts darted through her head. It was more like she had just frozen in time for a few seconds.

“I’d appreciate the lift,” Dahlia named an intersection a handful of streets into Renton—hopefully far enough into the neighborhood that the worst she’d have to deal with would be a couple of snot-nosed kids looking for their kicks. But, it was still a few blocks from the woman’s apartment. If by chance Asim looked out his window, he wouldn't see his sister pulling up to the apartment in the company of a go-ganger.

As the woman hopped onto the back of the bike she asked, “What should I call you?”

[Combat Mage]

[21:15 January 1st, 2072; Ruined Warehouse]

After briefly raising his hand for an indicated salute Akecheta put his helmet on, jumped back on his motorcycle and drove out of the warehouse.



OOC: I have no special plans for Akecheta at the moment. I'd definitely be interested in joining the crew for Dahlia's job but it seems Akecheta would be a bit redundant there as you alredy have two 'bricks'. Waiting for Mr. Okayama would be fine with me too but I'd prefer to get at least one more player into that storyline, it get's a bit lonely otherwise. ;) I'm surprised anyway that nobody answered the call for that yet.

[Abschalten]

Silk
[14:34 January 1st, 2072; Coffee Shop, University Campus, Downtown Seattle]
He-Who-Sees-Within replied back promptly:

<<Agreed. I will be there around 3:30. I will message you when I arrive.>>

[Abschalten]

[18:40 January 7th 2072; Crumbling Apartment Building, Redmond]
Dozer scratched the stubble of his shaven head with the barrel of his revolver as he watched Ultima shifting some boxes around on the back of his pickup truck.

"Not that I'm ungrateful for the work or anything," Dozer began, "but when I saw you buzzing me on my comm I figured it was a booty call. I didn't expect you'd be putting me to work."

Ultima tsked in vexation, and gave him a look over her shoulder caught somewhere halfway between amusement and mild frustration. "What, you're particular all of a sudden? And all that talk about you being a bad guy..." Her tone was only lightly mocking, meant to prod his ego rather than insult him.

Dozer blinked at her comment, then just sighed and gave a shrug. "I am. I guess. Fuck, for what you're paying me for a few day's help I'd have punched my mama in the face, God rest her soul." He gestured vaguely over in the ruined apartment building's direction with his gun. "But when you said you wanna run a buncha squatters out into the street and then blow up where they're staying, I thought to myself, surely this chica has better things to do with her time. I mean, what's the point?"

Ultima slid an elongated, hard plastic case towards her, inputting the correct combination on the numeric sliders to disengage the locks. When she opened the case, she revealed what was very obviously a grenade launcher set into imprinted foam. "The point is," she began, totally ignoring his sudden looks of shock and dismay, "is that we're paid not to ask those questions. Comprende?" She snapped open the launcher and started sliding microgrenades inside of the chambers of the rotating cylinder.

"No. No comprende. Fuck me, is that a grenade launcher?"

"Si. But I am only going to use it if we can't talk them out of leaving."

"Okay. Uh. So...uh. What do you want me to do?"

Ultima regarded the ork in front of her for a few moments before answering. His full attention was on the apartment building for the moment, and not her. She examined his features: his shaven head; his strong, jutting jawline; the little goatee he wore down off his chin; the broadness of his shoulders and the thickness of his muscles; the overabundance of tattoos depicting flames, guns, and naked women. Not her normal type, no. But she did find him somewhat attractive in that alpha-male, hairy-chested, brute neanderthal sort of way. If she was truly as malleable and suggestible as he'd claimed she was a couple of nights ago, she could see how she ended up in his bed.

"Just go and knock on the door and talk to them. Last I read most of them are orks so hopefully they'll listen to you. Tell them something, like the building is unsafe and it's going to fall down and kill them all. We have to take it down so nobody gets hurt. Don't hurt anybody if you can help it, but make it clear they don't have a choice."

"Whatever you say, doll-face." Dozer grinned at her.

Ultima rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "Ugh, don't call me that."

Dozer was already on his way over to the apartment building however. Ultima sat on the back of the pick-up truck's bed and lit up a cigarette, staring up at the sky. There was a break in the cloud cover, and she could just barely make out some stars. She leaned back on her elbows in the bed of the truck and watched them as they vanished behind the grey cloud cover, then reappeared in turn.

She got lost in watching this heavenly display when Dozer returned. She hadn't even heard him walk back up.

"Yo, uh. I chatted with 'em. Only about twenty of them left in there, all on the ground floor. The upper floors have caved in. Can't even get up to the third, fourth, or fifth floors anymore. Oh, and they told me to go get fucked, and slammed the door in my face. So yeah, what now?"

Ultima hopped off the truck and flicked her cigarette away into a puddle of rainwater; the cherry hissed right before it winked out. She grabbed up the grenade launcher, as well as a bandolier full of microgrenades, which she slung over chest.

"What now is, you make sure none of them try to kill me. I'll make them leave."

Ultima approached the outside of the building, and with a loud THOOMP! she fired one of those microgrenades through a gap in one of the boarded up windows. It crashed through what remained of the window pane. Rather than being followed up by an explosion, there was the sound of a loud pop, and greenish smoke began to waft out from between the boards. From within, the sounds of coughing could be heard.

Dozer whistled through his teeth. "Teargas? You're going to flush them out with teargas?"

"Hey, it works. Just make sure when they leave they keep on running. We tried to be diplomatic about this."

Together, she and the ork circled the building, and when she found an opening in the windows, she fired a cannister of teargas inside. After a few, the entire bottom floor of the apartment building was billowing that greenish smoke, and people were scattering out of the front entrance, crying and gagging, rubbing eyes that had a hard time focusing.

Dozer harried them by pointing his revolver straight up into the air and firing off a few shots. "C'mon! Keep on moving! Don't stop! Find somewhere else to go to sleep!" He lowered his voice and spoke to Ultima, "Man, I can't help but think I'm going to hell, running a bunch of poor fuckers out into the streets like this."

Ultima had the grenade launcher open again, sliding more cannisters into the chambers, though she was regarding the building as if to see if she even needed to bother. "You said it yourself, it's unsafe. When is the second story going to give and crush those people? You saw some children running out of there. You want to stay up at nights wishing you had made them leave so they wouldn't get killed?"

Dozer obviously wrestled with this. A conflicted look passed over his face, and suddenly he growled. "Fuck it. I guess you're right. But I don't have to like it, what I'm doing here."

Ultima reached up and patted him lightly, affectionately on the side of his cheek. "You don't have to like it, papucho. You've just got to do what I tell you."

[Grimm]

Dahlia
[21:07 January 3rd, 2072; An as-of-yet unnamed rough part of town

The troll shifted his gaze from side-to-side as he let the woman think. He was in no rush and was perfectly at home where others did not want to tread. After the woman boarded behind him, he shot off into the night; cutting his way through the piles of garbage and undetermined substances that littered the way.

“Most call me Scar, yourself?” He half-shouted into the window as they rode to the intersection that she had indicated.

OOC: Dahlia; do you want me to GM Akecheta over into your storyline to get him involved with the rest of the players since no one seems interested in pairing up with him at the moment. That’ll give us the opportunity to put the players in touch with each other for the most part and also set the frame-work for future runs/plots.

[Aria]

[15:25 January 1st, 2072; Ravenna Park, Downtown Seattle]

Whilst Silk kept a wary eye out for would be assailants or anyone paying an undue amount of interest in her she moved cautiously through the trees at the edge of the park looking for a spot that would act as a natural white noise generator for anyone trying to listening in.

Having found a likely spot she settled herself to wait for her contact, huddling back against the rough bark of an ancient oak in order to avoid the worst of the weather. She deployed her spider drones in to the branches to effectively give herself three hundred and sixty degree vision and, keeping their AR windows in view, she began to browse ShadowSEA for a maglock primer and began an agent search for the latest published research on maglock technology.

If this run was to move quickly she would need some additional equipment…it might be worth seeing if some of the stashes set up by Balefire last year were undisturbed. They would be a ready boost of cash if she needed to employ some other runners in order to make this happen. For now the boost to her rep would be more important than any cash incentive.

She had been out of the shadows for too long and if she was to find out the truth about what had happened eighteen months ago she would need those contacts.

[Abschalten]

Silk
[15:29 January 1st, 2072; Ravenna Park, Downtown Seattle]
ShadowSEA was a reliable source for info dumps and stolen caches of paydata. Though obsolescence occasionally caused some of it to become increasingly irrelevant, a complicated system of agents running analytical algorithms, user ratings, and date monitoring kept the community on the fore of various fields of engineering and science.

The maglock primer was easy: a "How To Bust Open Maglocks in Twenty Easy Steps!" download was free to all, giving readers the ropes and the fundamentals of bypassing maglocks using basic hardware skills.

As for the research, the best that ShadowSEA had to offer was a knowsoft that had been uploaded by a fellow user several months ago. Though not as fresh as it once had been, it still seemed to be useful, and had gotten some nice comments and feedbacks from runners who'd had the occasion to use it on a mission. As it was slightly dated, it was also free to download.

After several long minutes of having seen nothing but the wind blowing through the trees, and no sign of people through her spider drones, Silk got a message from He-Who-Sees-Within:

<<I'm here. Where are you?>>

[unsound]

Dahlia's team:

It's the fifth day of the new year, and you all find yourselves assembled in Dahlia's apartment, clumped together in a now very cramped living room, an uncomfortable motley crew of killers, mercenaries, and thieves. Asim had gone off to the Seattle Waterfront Arcade with some of his school friends, so the apartment is empty save for the expert parties gathered here for the singular purpose of taking on the TransGeni job. You all hail from different backgrounds, you all bring different skill sets to the table, and most of you have never worked with any of the others before. Still, the fates have brought you all together, here, now, and only time will determine whether or not your combined capacity will be enough to see this task to the end.

Dahlia had had the foresight to make an audiovisual recording of her meeting with Watson earlier that week, which she uploaded to her trideo unit and is now preparing to replay for the group. As you all watch on, a fuzzy, low resolution image of the dwarf fizzles into the air with a crackle of static noise, the scene reproduced exactly as captured by the Egyptian woman's AR goggle cam.

"Your targets are four highly trained and extremely dangerous operatives who are the product of some of TransGeni's most cutting edge genetic engineering and bionic augmentation efforts. They are all in peak physical condition, and all have been educated in the science of small scale urban warfare and tactical espionage."

The dwarf toggles a few AR buttons on his entoptic display, and an image of a good looking Amerindian ork in his mid twenties shimmers into view above the conference table's holoprojector.

"Alex Connor, codename Windwalker. Unarmed combat and infiltration specialist. He is an adept who follows the Warrior's Way. Loves to drink, loves to fight, and is the one least likely to be able to keep a low profile out of the four. Knowing Connor, he'll probably be the one you'll get a lead on first, but don't let him see you coming, because he's very good at disappearing even though he sucks at staying that way."

A wiry and bookish human man with a pair of thick bifocals and unkempt brown hair.

"James Hastings, codename Monk. He's the team's magical talent, and though he might look like the kind of pasty-faced geek who got beat up every single day as a schoolboy, he is, or rather, was one of our best combat mages. Underestimate him at your own risk."

A short and chubby teenage girl with bubblegum pink hair and mischievous eyes.

"Anna Soren, codename Lassie. She is not as young as she looks, and she's a wizard with all things electronic. She's the team's tech and tactical support. Has a serious violent streak beneath that innocent face, and a fetish for roto-drones for some reason."

A slender, pretty Latina woman with a wicked-looking scar running down the left side of her face.

"Maxine Foster, codename Hellcat. Team leader and possibly the most dangerous woman in Seattle. If it has a trigger and a barrel, she knows how to shoot it, and her aim is good enough to shoot the balls off a fly. Be careful with this one."

Watson switches off the holoprojection and turns to look directly into the camera.

"A full dossier on each member of the team will be transferred to your commlink. Again, we need you to bring them in alive, but I'm sure you don't need me to stress the importance of this point. I am ninety-five percent certain that they are split up, since that's what they've been trained to do, but understand that they will be checking in with one another at regular intervals, and once you capture one of them, you have at most twenty four hours before the rest are alerted to this fact. If you have any questions or need any resources, you know how to contact me. Assemble your team and get it done."

The projection fades as the recording comes to an end.

[unsound]

Ultima:

A melodic chime on your commlink notifies you that you have a message waiting. A quick scan of the subject header reveals that it's from Abdul. You open it up in an AR window and watch the text scroll through your field of vision.

#Greetings Ximena, I understand that you are currently looking for work, and I have come into some information that may pique your interest. There's a new player who just moved into town, an enigmatic man who calls himself the Collector. No one knows where he came from, but rumors are, he is tremendously well connected and his influence reaches far indeed. He has made it known to the community of which I am a part that he is in the market for skilled shadowrunners who can get the job done. If you like, I can put your name forward and try to arrange a meet. I cannot vouch for the integrity of this Collector, and can only testify that he's a man of great resource and even greater mystery. Let me know if you wish to move forward with this opportunity.

[Grimm]

[Jan 5th, Dahlia's Apartment]

Scar sat silently with the motley group of runners that had come together to pursue their quarry. He hated jobs that required a lot of subtlety as it certainly did not suit a hulking troll. But money was money, and he was willing to give it a crack to have a few more nuyen to drop. Though it seemed he would have to invest in some non-lethal means of neutralizing their quarry.

For the most part, he sat quietly and studied the display intently as the recording of the dwarf detailed each of the individuals.

"Knowing that, probably would be best to find their locations ahead of time before moving against any of them. Then move from target to target quickly to secure them."

[Aria]

[15:30 January 1st, 2072; Ravenna Park, Downtown Seattle]

Silk flagged up a map with her location and fired it over to He-Who-Sees-Within’s commlink and waited for him to come to her. She eased the taser out of her bag and secured it inside the pocket of her jacket…it paid to be prepared and those who weren’t paranoid enough in this business usually wound up dead…of course that happened to the paranoid too…

[Abschalten]

Silk
[15:30 January 1st, 2072; Ravenna Park, Downtown Seattle]
<<Oh. There you are.>> That was the only reply from He-Who-Sees-Within, then he went quiet.

For long moments, Silk saw nor heard nothing, not with her normal senses, and not with her drones' sensors. It wasn't until she heard the crackling of leaves being tread upon to her right that she turned her attentions to that direction. Suddenly, as if forming out of nowhere, He-Who-Sees-Within just...appeared.

He looked young still, but with just enough years on him to give him a wise-seeming accent to his dark features. He was obviously an Amerind, what with his swarthy complexion and his long, raven black hair, not to mention the tribal-chic clothes he wore. The man wore a necklace of some sort of teeth around his neck, and he was carrying what seemed to be a walking staff. Flashing her a mischevious grin, he adjusted a small pair of spectacles on his face that seemed to be one of his few open concessions to modernity.

"You're...not what I expected. Cuter, I think." He-Who-Sees-Within gave just a momentary chuckle, but then he schooled his expression to one more professional, if with just a hint of warmness to it. "Apologies. I didn't mean to startle you, nor be rude. I am He-Who-Sees-Within. Forgive me if I scared you. I find it useful to use an invisibility spell when I'm meeting a new employer for the first time. It helps to be careful."

As he extended his hand towards her in a gesture of cordial welcoming, he tilted his head to the side as if regarding her. His eyes appeared to be focused on something perhaps beyond or through her, however.

[Red_Cap]

[Jan 5th, Dahlia's Apartment]

Scar sat silently with the motley group of runners that had come together to pursue their quarry. He hated jobs that required a lot of subtlety as it certainly did not suit a hulking troll. But money was money, and he was willing to give it a crack to have a few more nuyen to drop. Though it seemed he would have to invest in some non-lethal means of neutralizing their quarry.

For the most part, he sat quietly and studied the display intently as the recording of the dwarf detailed each of the individuals.

"Knowing that, probably would be best to find their locations ahead of time before moving against any of them. Then move from target to target quickly to secure them."

Roadie narrowed his eyes at the other ganger. The trog looked vaguely familiar, like he'd seen him someplace else before -- but he certainly wasn't a Rager. His tats and colors announced him as a Spike. . . which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The Ragers and Spikes weren't exactly allies (Hell, they weren't exactly friends either!), but they weren't enemies for that matter. It was going to be an interesting run.

The big ork shook his head as the troll finished talking. "Nah, bro, findin' all of 'em's a waste of time. As soon as we nab one the rest'll rabbit, sure as sure. We should go for the dangerous types first, bag them up and get 'em out of the way so that if the rest try to band back together to fight us then they're outta their big guns."

[Aria]

[15:34 January 1st, 2072; Ravenna Park, Downtown Seattle]

Mages! Silk thought to herself, not that she hadn't done similar things herself in the past, but it was too wet and cold for playing games...

"I find it always pays to be careful and I'm glad you follow the same approach, and thanks for the compliment but let's get down to some business..." she paused to gather her thoughts and shake the water off her collar again...

"I've been employed to aquire an item and possibly some data from a local business and I need someone qualified to check out their magical security before I go...I don't want any nasty surprises! Depending on your rates I'd like you to check out the building for any wards or spirit patrols and possibly back me up on the run itself, not neccessarily in the flesh. If that sounds of interest then I can fill you in on more details and we can negotiate your fee."

[AStarshipforAnts]

[21:07 January 3rd, 2072; An as-of-yet unnamed rough part of town ]

Dahlia shrugged, not that the biker could see it, “Just Dahlia is fine.” She hadn’t yet earned a street name from work, and wasn’t the type of person capable of thinking up a moniker for herself.

After Scar dropped her off at the designated intersection, Dahlia watched the biker speed back off to his own destination. Then, she put her hands back in her coat pockets and began the short walk back to her own apartment. There was work to be done.

OOC: Grimm, I’m fine with that. But, this team already has a large amount of muscle. It would be interesting if everyone crossed paths while working. But, it might get boring for someone if there isn’t enough fighting to go around for three people.

[January 5th, 2072; Summeroaks Apartments 29C, Renton]

Dahlia waited for the recording to finish up, eyeing the assembled crew in the room. There was a lot of muscle in her apartment. And judging by the colors, the ones called Rhodes and Scar were gangers—not that Dahlia could identify which gangs either belonged to. If anything, the woman was disconcertingly nonplused by the fact that a bunch of killers were hanging around her living room.

The apartment itself was almost painfully typical. All of the walls had the original AR displays, and the original neutral paintjob underneath. And even those seemed a little too bare—like something should have been there. Seti would notice that Dahlia had conspicuously taken down the few pictures of Asim and herself that had once decorated the walls. There were a few more beers and drinks in the refrigerator than normal. But, the vials of bee venom were still there, lurking in one of the corners behind some sort of red punch. Some things never change.

Otherwise, most of the furniture matched; but, the rooms gave off almost a…soulless feeling. It was like everything in the apartment had been picked out by a computer-generated algorithm instead of someone’s personal tastes. It had all the trappings of what middle-class life should be like, what it was expected to be like, but in an almost superficial manner. And there were still cracks in the façade.

Supposing someone were to poke around the apartment, they may or may not find a few points of interest—first of which would probably be the clearly-labeled venom vials in the refrigerator. Down the hall, Dahlia’s room gives off the same vibe of almost forced, deliberate normalcy in variations of a cool blue-grey. In the way that most people’s bedrooms can instantly give an observer a feeling for the type of person sleeps there, the woman’s room revealed nothing of her. It may as well have been empty, for how frigidly sterile it would look. If anyone went snooping, they’d only find a nasty-looking injection dagger resting under the bed pillows.

In comparison, the other bedroom would probably seem like a relieving piece of actual normalcy. From the clothing strewn in hap-hazard piles in the corners of the room to the AR posters of Urban Brawl stars and Miracle Shooter hype materials, the entire room screamed twelve-year-old boy. It was a mess; but, a mess that could be empathized with. There were even a scuffed up looking guitar and skateboard leaning against the wall, emblazoned with decals painstakingly chosen to imply coolness. The room practically screamed of a boy’s bumbling early adolescence.

Back in the living room, Dahlia drummed her fingers against her leg. “I’d like to catch all of them unaware, if it’s possible. We don’t exactly have a lot of magic or matrix support in this group, and it would be a safer bet to get an idea of where everyone is hiding before we move in.”

[Abschalten]

Silk
[15:34 January 1st, 2072; Ravenna Park, Downtown Seattle]
"I am amenable to that," replied He-Who-Sees-Within with a gracious nod. "Do you want to negotiate the terms here, or would you like to sit down somewhere? Not that I don't enjoy nature." He grinned and reached to a nearby tree, giving it an affectionate pat. "I just find it more conducive to a formal business arrangement if there's shelter involved."

Again, he gave Silk that tilted, regarding look. "You called me because you need magical and astral asistance, which means you can't do it yourself. You are an adept, I take it?"

[Grimm]

Dahlia‘s Meeting
[January 5th, 2072; Summeroaks Apartments 29C, Renton]

Scar studied the orc intently, taking in his own colors and markings with the Ragers. He too felt as though he had seen the orc before, though he was not entirely sure. The few times he had been in Rager territory was to visit the Crying Wall to pay his respects to those that lost their lives due to meta-human hatred. He had worked with some Ragers off and on with some work, but largely the gangs did not strive to get in each others way. The Spikes were still recovering from their long, tedious war with the Ancients and they really had no beef for the territory.

“Yah man, we definitely should take out the heaviest hitters first. But if they are checkin’ in with each other say.. every 12 hours or so? If we can go from location to location, neutralize them, and scoop them all up within an hour. We can grab ‘em before they alert each other as to what’s going on. Yanno? That’s my theory anyways.”

The troll shifted a bit in the seat with a beer in his hand, running a fingertip in a circle around the top of the can. He took a long draw from the can, crumpled it up and tossed it in the general direction of the garbage can. His eyes narrowed as he thought for a moment and he swore to himself, hauling himself to his feet to pick the trash up and put it into the receptacle. He shifted his way past the others gathered in the living room and sat back down.

[Grimm]

Akecheta
[The Night of January 2nd, 2072; Akecheta‘s Squat, Redmond]

The maned troll shifted around in his sleep as his mind cycled through the noises attempting to invade his sleep. Many of the inhabitants of the area would retreat to whatever safe little niche of Redmond they had carved out for themselves to weather the night. The psychotic or truly brave would still roam the streets late into the night. They were the sources of the gun fire, the screams of pain, and the roar of engines that echoed through the buildings. The overwhelming smell of sewage seemed to hang around the apartment that Akecheta currently called his home. He felt he might as well have been living in a toilet for all the good it did. Not that any of the toilets in the building had worked in the last 60 years anyways.

Like every night, the troll slept with a firearm nearby. It would not have been surprising if he had needed it at some point in the near future. That type of threat and disturbance was easy for Akecheta to nullify. What was not so easy was what his dreams were showing him.

*
The air was sharply cold as the troll made his way through the deep forest and brush. He felt almost at home, which was not entirely unexpected with his Amerindian roots. What he was not expecting was to come face-to-face with an apparition of an orcish woman. Her eyes stared through him as only Lilly’s could. For a brief moment, he felt a surge of warmth that he had not experienced since their last embrace. He reached for her and they were about to embrace wh…Beep…Beep…Beep…
*

The troll’s eyes snapped open to the indicating sound of a file sitting in his Inbox. The remnants of the dream slowly fell away, but he could still see her eyes staring straight into his soul. Day was dawning over Redmond.