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

[ChromeZephyr]

@E:Tribes
September 1, 2072, 04:13:42; Scrapheap's "room"

fireroaringpullpullpullc'monJuliapullscreamroaaaaaarrlookupPAINPAIN Scrapheap bolted upright in his cot, his scars blazing with pain and tears running down his face. Motherfuckermotherfuckermotherfucker. Not again. Ghost, not again. The pain subsided to a dull ache that matched his slowing heartbeat, and he choked down a a sob to avoid drawing the attention of anyone else in the barrack-style room that was still awake. His hands shook as he grabbed the trode rig and his commlink from his desk and attached the contact points to his shaved head, and it took three attempts before he could successfully get it to boot up. The flat, baseline interface of the 'link overlayed his vision, then shifted as he opened the folder containing the remaining beetles he had from his last buy. He'd burned through most of the porn, leaving only a few left to go with a handful of moodchips that he kept for nights like this. A deep breath, then the Cool White moodchip loaded and his hands stopped shaking.

September 1, 2072, 05:01:59; the streets of Puyallup

The last wisps of the emotichip had faded fifteen minutes ago, but the wind flowing over his scalp and the throaty rumble of his Triumph kept him calm as he headed towards the Crime Mall. He'd left the helmet behind, preferring to risk further injury to let the night's cares and hurts scatter behind him in the exhaust of his motorcycle. The HUD displayed across his currently-transparent sunglasses showed that he had plenty of fuel if he wanted to ride further tonight, but the dwindling funds in his wallet told him that wasn't a good idea unless he was headed somewhere he could get some more money to refill the tank after a joyride. The brass-chased stock of his shotgun rattled in the holster bolted to the frame of the bike under the handlbars, and the comforting weight of a machete in a scabbard on his belt made him feel less concerned with the two-legged predators that stalked this corner of the urban jungle than he probably should...but no, tonight had had enough concern. The old leather of his jacket creaked as he rolled his neck and shoulders to loosen a forming knot and he pulled hard on the throttle, trying as hard as he could to leave the demons behind him.

[JxJxA]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 12:35:26, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton

Even with years of Shiawase training, practical experience, and seemingly impossible adventures, the name Lady deBathayre drops catches Gemeaux off of his guard. His eyes widen, and it takes a concerted effort on his part to keep from doing a spit-take.

Celedyr? My God, Damien, she is taking you for a ride, no? Wait... She seems sincere... And if she IS sincere...

A slight smirk tugs at the edge of Gemeaux's mouth. He recalls a bit of bad blood between NeoNET and Shiawase. What better way to find revenge---and discourage future pursuits---than working for his "former employer's" enemy?

Sometimes the best way to brave the shadows is to befriend the beast that dwells within them.

He lets the smirk blossom into a smile. He takes another sip of Côte Rôtie, and savors the taste. To the best of his knowledge, the airship lacks a confessional, temple, or other holy site, so a sip of wine would have to be his last rite in case his next words would be the death of him. Gemeaux locks eyes with the lady, leans in closer and casts his lot.

"Koketsu ni irazunba koji wo ezu. You have my attention, my dear. Please, tell me more..."

[RdMarquis]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 13:07:40, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Active

"I see. Well, I appreciate it." Mordred sends Mr. Burch the commcode to his public device. "Let me return the favor." He didn't think the man any ill intentions at the moment. Otherwise, Burch probably wouldn't have trusted any of them around his daughter, even after he had too many a drink. "Thank you. I often find myself looking for more work."

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 8th, 2072, 23:01:32; Blackwater, CZ, Chicago]

Copperhead tries to focus on the approaching vehicle, but can't quite make it out.

What the frag is that? Drone, chopper or a fragging LAV?

Her heart stops for a second as she watches the green laser dot track across her chest, then it thumps back to life as the dot moves on to the bugs.

Enemy of my enemy. Works for me!

“REQUIEM, STITCH! INCOMING. GET DA FRAG OUTTA HERE. SAVE YER ASSES!”

She backs away from the young man lying in the rubble, dropping into a crouch as she moves towards Jon and Katie.

She glances back to the man as he scrambles to his feet. Her hand sways in the air as she gathers mana into a ball, while humming the words to Apocalypz's 'Dead Girlfriend'.

“My baby ain't dead, she's just sleeping. Frag you too, chummer!”

She gestures towards Mouthy, the stunbolt flying from her fingers, then turns to the kids.

“We gotta go now! Move it!”

[mister__joshua]

@E:CoP/Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 18:37; Monaco, His Study]

Johnny sat behind a large oak desk, his Kimono hanging open around him. As Yuna rocked slowly back and forth on his lap he looked through the one-way glass along the serene Monaco harbour. The taste of a 1000 (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) cigar, freshy seasoned, filled his mouth and he smiled inwardly as he held it in his teeth and let the smoke circulate around once more.

He knew it couldn't last. He had a party to go to in a couple of hours and he'd have to leave soon if he was going to make an appearance. Oxford. The City of Dreaming Spires, they called it. As prestigious as it was pompous. He couldn't be bothered, truth be told, but it was a party to be seen at and he knew it was important he went. He may even have fun, stranger things have happened. Afterall, there's plenty of mischief an overly wealthy gentleman can get up to in the city.

He let the moment last just a little longer before shooing his plaything away and getting to his feet. He tied the kimono back around his waist and looked to Maggard who was standing in the corner.

"We'll be leaving soon Mag. Have Wing prepare the transport and a change of clothes put in the back. I'm going to take a shower."

With that he walked through to the wetroom, letting the kimono slide from him but retaining his flip-flops, and turned on the rain...

[Machine Ghost]

@E:Tribes + Sprogget
[September 1, 2072, 02:13:27; Sprogget's workshop]
Thursday morning

Sprogget sighed and did a huge stretch. @self:There, all done. The LeafMan was ready to go back to Cam for work in the greenhouses. All that had really been wrong with it was a plugged line to one of the holding tanks, but while it was here, he had given it a full servicing. It should be good for several months now. @remember:A while ago, this unit was down almost daily, until someone scrounged the materials to add the moisture resistance modification. The original unit was intended for regular gardening, not near continuous use in a high humidity greenhouse. @self:This little guy has sure grown up a lot since he became part of the tribe. @remember:The original engine was replaced with a multi-fuel alternative, the extra fuel tank for flexibility and automatic change without downtime.

@remember:It still runs on stored electrical energy whenever it can, but sometimes other fuels allow better allocation of available resources

@self:Replacing that lawnmower attachment with the irrigation tools was a fun challenge to watch. @remember:No need for mowing lawns in a greenhouse, but that below ground watering system needs regular maintenance. The original mulching system was kept, to collect pruned foliage instead of grass clippings. The air quality test kit from a salvaged SafeNSound was installed before that. @self:He's got better eyes now too. @remember:The sensors have all been replaced and upgraded over time. In the enclosed space of a greenhouse, the cyber-sniffer provides good information to detect issues before they become real problems. The UWBR was expensive, but lets the drone see through the cluttered environment with all that foliage. The ability to detect density differences also helps to pick the optimum time to harvest many crops, without needing to take regular physical samples. Several types of damage can also be detected that way. The greenhouse is kept slightly overpressure, so the barometric sensor is a simple way to track the status. A trideo camera is still included to get the best detail for some kinds of information. That has been upgraded as well though, flare compensation for the sometimes bright lighting. It also has low light capabilities, to work during the 'night' cycle, and to see in areas shaded by multiple plants. People tend to think of thermographic as used to detect 'hot' things, like people and IC engines. Plants produce heat too. Enough that visible temperature is useful for decision making. Round that out with magnification, for close up details, and vision enhancement to clean up and noise in the information.

Shrug. @remember:he doesn't really know or care a lot about the farming details, but he made some careful notes while talking to some of the tribal 'green thumbs', and filled in extras wearing a tutor hat. The information was needed to know enough to make the right choices while working on the equipment that does a lot of the actual work. Providing the drone with the task appropriate capabilities is interesting.

@remember:The software has been upgraded too. The Pest Control and Gardening autosofts from the original system are still there, but extra things have been added. Clearsight, to get the most out of the sensor upgrades, Maneuver to help the drone manage in the tight spaces and sometimes unreliable traction of the greenhouse surfaces, adaptability to help it follow complex instructions. Grins, recalling a recent change. @remember:One of the things he discovered while previously working on the drone, is that the sprayer attachment is only used irregularly.

@remember:It was apparently intended for outdoor pesticide spraying. The greenhouses are kept as close to organic as possible. The sprayer still gets used occasionally, but only after some of the farming / botanical literate tribe members decide the best choice, usually a custom mixture to encourage results, but that still leave the plants safe to eat. That he can definitely agree with. Vegetables and more from the gardens make a nice change from soy. Plus the value of what they sell and exchange with other groups.

@remember:Since it was only in use occasionally, he had wondered what else it could be used for. One of the neighbors that worked regularly in the gardens told him about accidentally getting a face full of something from a sprayer, and how that stung.

@remember:Come to think of it, that was part of the safety lectures. On how to neutralize and wash off contaminants as soon as possible, and get expert [when available] help. That stuff he knew. Same applied to the materials used in the shop, though they are not typically being deliberately sprayed in the open air. Then there was the meetings about defending the tribal property, and how various interests sometime try to rip off food from the greenhouse. Not that they were begrudged 'some' food, but they were wanting it all, or ended up destroying more than they took.

@remember:Sprayer, chemical burn, weapon. After a few discrete conversations with people responsible for security, which pulled in some more from the agricultural group, he got approval. A discrete matrix search later, and the drone also had a targeting autosoft for the sprayer. @self:I wonder if that has actually been used yet for more than testing? Or what they decided to load it with?

@remember:He has day dreamed about a few options. From knockout chemicals, to physical damaging acid. From immediate results to more subtle delayed action. With options that incapacitate later, but include something to allow tracking. Thinking about some of the stores from his heritage, the last has some appeal. A way to show someone that thinks they are cleverly counting coup, but finds they have been outflank. Follow the thief, then take back what was stolen while they were helpless from the delayed action of the spray. Maybe leave a token behind, so they know the source of their embarrassment.

Anyway LeafMan is ready to go back to the greenhouse. Sprogget looks up the current schedule, then sends a quick message to the current 'shift' supervisor, <<Leafman maintenance done, good to go>>. @self:Someone will probably be by shortly, to escort the drone back home. Unless they decide it is safe enough to just subscribe to it and tell to come home. Up to them, though I would not want to be responsible for it wandering around at ..
Looks at the time on an ARO from the public commlink.
@self:Really? After 2AM? Well the drone counts as part of my work, and I do not any shift scheduled for first thing in the morning. I can still put a bit of time into one of my own projects. Dad knows I was working on the drone, and I AM at home, so should not be any static from there, as long as I do not push things too far. Better keep it to quiet projects though. Pounding to form that panel into just the right shape would get shut down FAST, and probably bring extra household chores my way.

Hmmm, well no parts yet, but I can do some of the preliminary design work for converting that pickup. @remember:Someone from the Makers Guild posted a note about a Peng You 4x4 that was available. Not currently working, but he figured he could change that here. Still going to take some cash outlay, but the planning can be done any time. Even if the current deal falls through, the plans could be useful later.

[Aria]

@Emerging: Tribe
[August 31st, 2072, 19:13; Tribe turf, Puyallup]

Spring

You slope back to the tribe’s turf with your precious piece of scav, passing under the watchful eyes of Cam who nods at you from the roof of one of the derelicts on the edge. You are reassured to see that he has a crossbow loaded and ready, just in case those thugs were more competent than they looked.

“Watch your back kid, you don’t want to be out here after dark!”

Time to get out of sight and begin some serious work…this had better have been worth it, the world’s a dangerous enough place without getting any more enemies…perhaps you ought to mention the gangers to someone…then again there’d be mutterings about letting the kids go out by themselves and you value the freedom that you all have at the moment.

September 1, 2072, 05:01:59; the streets of Puyallup

Scrapheap

The early morning wind is brisk and only vaguely tainted with the stink of ash blowing off the fields to the south. Activity will probably be winding down now as the nocturnals slope off home and before the day crowd make some sort of appearance. Of course that means a chance at some good deals from those desperate to convert their goods to cash before making the run for wherever they call home.

September 1, 2072, 09:47:17; Sprogget's workshop

Sprogget

You wake groggily on the ratty couch, wincing as a spring you’ve not got round to fixing spikes you in the arse in lieu of an alarm clock. You’d clearly worked later last night than you’d intended and it’s going to be catch up all day. Still, the truck was going to be a gem when you got your hands on it…if you can get your hands on it anyway.

[Aria]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]

Gemeaux, Mordred, Tsubaki

You are almost saddened to see the air strip ahead of you in the distance. This trip has been an eye opener and no mistake…both from the unexpected luxury and the approaches of your fellow passengers. How the hell Argent or the Professor or whoever managed to wangle you a trip with this degree of comfort is anyone’s guess but there must have been some favours with NeoNet involved, it is unlikely that the security of the other passengers would have been an easy matter to bypass…after all, you could be, and indeed are, just about anybody!

Monsieur Hill has been surprisingly uncommunicative for the entire flight, lost in his own world but now he rouses himself and gathers with you and the Collots as you descend towards Exeter. He points out the limo waiting on the tarmac with Church iconography projected into the AR around it. It would seem he has arranged your onwards ride. As you dock with barely a whisper he urges you to allow the other passengers to disembark before you. You watch with some regret as the others are whisked off by liveried chauffeurs towards the terminal building. Mr Hill approaches the Church limo, gesturing that you should wait. He has a few whispered words with the driver and then with barely a backwards glance gets in and is also shuttled away, leaving you all standing somewhat at a loss on the tarmac while the zepp crew look pityingly at you…

[JxJxA]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton

Gemeaux frowns, his eyes setting into a disturbingly dark expression on his face. He toys with the possibility of putting a bullet in the mage's head, but with so many witnesses around such an action would be unavoidably visible.

Well, he was an insufferable little cunt. Why should we be surprised?

<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, could you please place "Monsieur Hill" on the collections to-do list? I do not have the time to deal with him now, but I shall settle accounts with him in the future.>>

<<[Vivienne]: Done and done, Damien.>>

The thought of putting a bullet in the priest's face puts him in much better humor. Once he composes himself, he turns to the others and shrugs.

"I apologize for the manners of our hôte. I promise I shall attempt to...explain...the consequences of his failure to act professionally in the near future. Great Britain lies beyond the realm of my normal gallery of contacts. However, I believe I met someone during our excursion who might be able to help us continue our journey. I can contact her if you like..."

[RdMarquis]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
SIN: Spencer Lovett, PAN: Active

The zeppelin crew was beginning to make him feel awkward. Not to mention, if they continued standing around like they were, the three were liable to attract some unwanted attention. Calmly thanking the crew for the ride, Mordred leads the Collots toward the nearest exit, acting as if they hadn't just gotten left high and dry.

"You, too?" Mordred assumed it was another NeoNET employee. Which, hopefully, was not an indication of how conspicuous they were. "Alright. Sure. At this point, our only other option is catching a cab." More like calling someone to hack a cab, the problem being he didn't know if that was more or less difficult in the UK.

[RdMarquis]

@Emerging: Tribe
[August 31st, 2072, 06:07:47; Senlis Residence, Bellevue]
SIN: Morgan Senlis, PAN: Active

Morgan frowned at the purple haired girl in the mirror. The problem with this disguise was that she had barely one to critique it. Sure, she could still recognize herself under the wig and red contacts, but that wasn't saying much. "Well?" Morgan glanced at the woman "sitting" on her bed. Though, considering her paragon didn't have any conventional physical substance, it would be more accurate to say she was alone. "Adequate. For our purposes. Have you considered where you will be putting all of this on?"

"Pardon me?"

"You musn't assume there will be a changing room between here and Puyallup, child. Depending on the route you choose. After you've chosen your clothes, too, put everything on while standing in the bathtub. Avoid the mirror, as well. You must learn to do this unaided, assuming the least amount of convenience."

"Bah." She flicked at the pair of glasses hanging from her collar.

"Nor would it do to become overly attached with this persona. Once anyone realizes who she is, you must abandon it."

"For a personification of the media, you're being awfully crushingly realistic." Flick. But she was right. They only had one shot at this, didn't they? Once her false SIN and face were compromised, that was it. Assuming she didn't get landed in some correctional facility, who knows how long gathering the materials for another shot at meeting the tribe face to face would take?

"You're very welcome, my protege."

[Aria]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 8th, 2072, 23:01:32; Blackwater, CZ, Chicago]

As you strain your eyes against the night and the crap being blown up by its rotors the approaching craft resolves itself into a tilt wing, something like a Fed Boeing Commuter but with a decidedly more militaristic feel, an impression heightened by what look like missile pods on the side and the door gunner hanging out, the bright green laser tracking towards the rampant spirits…

As you spell lashes out you wince at the reduction in power caused by the taint in the air. The young man stumbles back with blood dripping from his nose and hate in his eyes and then he begins to scramble back as one of the giant ants takes an unhealthy interest in you.

The air is rent by the sound of a hyper velocity shot and the spirit disintegrates into mist before your eyes…and if it can do that to a being of mana you would hate to think what it will do to your corporeal form!

Requiem and Stitch are doing their best to keep in cover from the advancing VTOL whilst taking sniping shots at the two remaining spirits to try and distract them away from the helpless Blackwater crowd who are either scattering to the winds or standing in stunned amazement watching the battle unfurl like some glorified simflick. Thankfully Jon and Katie seem to have their wits about them and they are high tailing it in the direction you told them to go…now you just need to catch them, avoid the AR targeting and the other spirits, oh, and then get your arse out of Chicago intact without the team you came in with…after that getting to Seattle should be a breeze!

[Aria]

@E:CoP/Awesome
[August 20th, 2072, 21:00; Oxford]

Ah, summer celebrations, with this unseasonably warm weather (almost like it was before the beginning of the century), they should prove to be enjoyable despite yourself…if you can just avoid those Ordo types anyway, far too intense for their own good, even if belonging to the group was good for your social standing.

Your plane touches down at Oxford airport with barely a bump and the sterile air conditioned air is replaced by the sweet warmth of sun baked fields as you alight into the summer evening. An empty limo, as requested, is standing on the hard top, waiting for Wingman to do his customary switch from pilot to chauffeur. After he has run the requisite security checks and assured you that there is no tampering with the vehicle you are free to settle into its luxurious interior and be whisked towards the city.

Dreaming spires indeed. The graceful stone edifices of the university make way for the towering and glittering corporate symbols of power as the car glides towards the east of the city. The NeoNet tower is a particularly fine example of its type, no doubt why the penthouse was chosen as the gathering point for this evening’s entertainment…

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL/Chi Town/Copperhead
[July 8th, 2072, 23:01:32; Blackwater, CZ, Chicago]

Copperhead snakes through the rubble after the two kids, doing her best to keep them in sight, keep out of sight of the VTOL and keep ahead of the bug spirit. As she moves she pulls grenades from her webbing and drops or throws them behind her: first a smoke grenade, then a flashpak and finally a flashbang. She doubts they will have any affect the spirit but they might cover her retreat and she will take any advantage she can get.

She lets the ant spirit close on her rather than go after the kids. Well, 'let' is a strong term as the bug is fast, damn fragging fast.

At the last moment, with the sound of chitin and clicking mandibles in her ears, she stops and spins. With the chorus of Snakebite's cover of 'Poison' hissing from her lips, she drives her outstretched fingers towards the spirit.

[Fairy]

@E:PL UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada

Surprises. Tsubaki likes surprises. However, for the record, Tsubaki will have to like surprises most of the time... She frowns at her and the group's current predicament. "Be my guest," is all the silver-haired woman has to say in regards to Gemeaux's suggestion.

[Machine Ghost]

@Emerging: Tribe + Sprogget
September 1, 2072, 09:47:17; Sprogget's workshop
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Hidden; SIN: Hugo Wright

@self:Ouch, thinking fuzzily, Got to get that fixed.
@self:What time is it?
Sprogget Mentally fumbles for the clock ARO.
@self:Nearly 10? How late did I go last night anyway?
Checking the timestamp on the last update to the modification plans
@self:5:10:43 ... Got to learn to shutdown better. Was just going so well.
Review the saved plans, automatically bringing the clip up for the community environment.
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Active; SIN: Hugo Wright
@self:Looks awesome though.
@paragon:"Hey Dae, what you think"?

Daedalus: "Told you last night, looks good functionally. You may want to improve the 'pimping' some, to better disguise the multiple purposes".

@paragon:"Yeah sure.", indifferently, "Got to see what it looks like as I build it. The simulation can only show so much. Need to actually get my hands on the materials for the final part. Find the statue in the stone".

Daedalus: "humph".

Mostly awake now, Sprogget heads upstairs to see about scrounging some breakfast.
@self:Yesterday was long. Good 16 hours. Even if the last couple were 'optional' for the servicing.
Looks back. The Leafman drone is gone.
@self:Looks like someone collected Leafy.
Check the status through the matrix.
@self:Yep, back at work, pruning and weeding. Let's see what's up for today.
Pull up the posted work queue for today.
@self:foot patrols, broken SPU, matrix spider, wall repairs, roof coverage. Ok, I can send Ms Beaver to do the wall by herself. That is simple enough., checking that off, and send location and repair details to the freshly recharged Mesametric Beaver drone sitting in the shop. @self:And don't forget to come home. Appending an RTB command to the instructions.
@self:The SPU is mine too. checking it off, just as reach the kitchen.

Orenda, Accussingly, "You were on the matrix most of the night again weren't you? Slept in your clothes too".

Sheepishly, "Morning mom.", heading for the soykaf.

Orenda, annoyed, "No kaf. monster is playing with the pot. Go get cleaned up".

Meekly, "Yes mom. I'll give monster a cookie while I'm washing, and get the pot started".
Sigh, head for the washroom, with a detour past his 'official' bedroom, to grab a shirt, opening a connection to the CHN.
@self:yep, there is Mr Cookie Monster, all OVER the soykaf maker.
@mcm: "Good morning MCM, what'ca finding in the maker?"

mcm: Sullen glower.

@mcm: "Ah, don't be like that". Coaxingly, "Could you maybe move over to the trid for awhile?", mentally forming a small data packet to lure MCM from the soykaf maker, to the entertainment system.

mcm: Sniff's the bait cookie.

@mcm: "Please"?

mcm: Doing a good imitation of molasses, the AI slowly untangles and separates from the soykaf maker, following the data and oozing into the trid.

@mcm: "Thanks MCM".
Now that the soykaf maker is available again, set it to make the kaf just the way he likes it, and start the cycle. Check other utilities status indicators. Start the SPU making a small breakfast. Hesitate, @self:It's getting late. More like lunch. And breakfast. Set the SPU to make a more substantial meal. @self:Add a couple of those carrots, and I should be good for awhile. The kaf should be just about ready by the time I am done here. Looks like utilities are good, and water is hot today.
@Orenda: <<Kaf is started -- S>>

While taking a quick shower, send commands to the manservant drone back in the shop, to take the hardware toolkit over to the unit with faulty SPU. @self:Ren Man can't do that on his own, but I can use him to do the work remotely. What else? Ah, the spider spot! I can monitor the sensors from here too, and make sure all the security patches are in place at the same time. Check a couple hours off for that as well. @self:Someone else can take care of the rest.

Back in the kitchen with kaf in hand, gets the meal from the SPU, and a couple of raw carrots from the cooling unit.
@Orenda: "Monster is in the trid for now".

Orenda, exasperated, "I was going to watch the latest update".

@Orenda: Concilatory, "Sorry. At least it is all recorded. You can watch it later".

Orenda, silence.

Sprogget eats quickly and quietly, making sure all the used utensiles are put where they belong, and beats a hasty retreat back to the shop.

[Machine Ghost]

@Emerging: Tribe + Sprogget
September 1, 2072, 10:22:03; Sprogget's workshop
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Active; SIN: Hugo Wright

While getting comfortable on the couch, carefully avoiding that spring, Sprogget checks the progress of the drones. Ms Beaver is already in place, and just starting the work.
@self:Looks like an hours work. No more than 2.
Ren Man is just about there.
@self:Alright, just a couple minutes.
Go VR, streeettcchh, @self:Ah, that feels goood. Lets get setup.
Subscribe to the node for the building to be monitored, and bring display windows up for the several cameras and other sensors. Set them to slowly [for VR] sequence through the available inputs.
@self:That's not full coverage yet, but it will do for a start, until I get that SPU fixed, Not scheduled for that yet, but won't hurt to have some extra [distracted] eyes on it early. Lets see about a bit of help with the repairs.
Sprogget focuses on the resonance, visualizing the assistant he wants.
@self:might was well practice my Seneca a bit too
The crafted machine sprite rezzes into the node with Sprogget, looking like an old style rube goldberg machine, with a tin cap showing the included translation capability.
@self:Slot, but that gave me a headache, but I get 4 tasks for it.
Shakes off most of the headache, and continues.
@machine sprite(3):”Hi Mac. Got a bit of work to do shortly, and could use your help. First, use your power to slap any glitches before they cause problems for either of us, as long as you are around”.

Mac(3):A few gears spin, as Mac agrees to the task.

@self:A little time yet before Ren Man is in position
Subscribe to the Manservant Drone, Subscribe to the main Mechanicals node. Post a message in the "members: wanted" section, <<Looking for:

• a comfortable chair with good support, to use while doing VR work. Bonus for built in massage for long sessions
• a tag eraser
• some social clothes, better than the coveralls I usually wear. Not for high end clubbing, but 'nice'. link to size information
• an Armorer toolkit
• an Industrial Mechanic toolkit
• a chemistry toolkit
• Also looking to put together complete Armorer and Industrial Mechanic shops. It might take me a bit to gather the scratch for the shops, but I also figured it might take a while to locate all the needed pieces. Let me know.

-- Sprogget>>

@remember:Sprogget's shop space is far more than is required for his current needs. The equipment though is not spread around haphazardly. From previous experience, working from much more cramped quarters, the equipment is organized for easy and efficiency of use. The extra space is not left totally empty though. It is used as a display area for completed and partially completed projects, that are personal favorites, show pieces, things waiting for parts, or maybe just inspiration. That still does not take up a significant amount of the available area. Sprogget has not been able to fully [AR] paint the walls, but selected wall sections and central supporting pillars have AR coverage, that is used to display past and future projects. This is arranged for maximum viewing impact, so that adjacent displays complement each other, without any piece seemingly isolated or competing with its neighbors. Strategic lighting has been added for some displays. When viewing a single item, the surroundings become a backdrop that enhances the feature of the display, without taking away from it. A steampunker enthusiast's wet dream. The displays are not shut away from the actual shop areas, blending in from the active work area to the full and partial results. There is enough space for working safety [closer displays are only AR]. This environment subtly supports Sproggets creative and technical skills, making him more effective while working in the shop.

@self:Maybe I can pass that couch to someone else soon.
Close the subscription to the Mechanicals node, and make sure the CMT Clip is set to accept message, and pop up an ARO for any response.
@self:Looks like Ren Man is about ready
Jump into the Manservant drone. Open a subscription connection to the faulty SPU.
@mac(3):”Ok Mac. Here's the job. I need to get that SPU working. Hop in there, run diagnostics, then help me repair it. Oh, send me any assistance information twice, once in English, then again in Seneca, just to give me a bit of practice”.

Mac(3):Dives through the connection to the SPU, gears spin, lights flash, levers move, the tin hat spins, and falls off.

@self:huh?

Mac(3):Picks up the hat and sends diagnostic information back through the connection that is a completely unintelligible mixture of English and Seneca.

@self:Glitched. Lota help you are. Guess I got to do this all myself.
Sprogget connects to the diagnostics for the SPU, paging through the information.
@self:Ah! That's easy. Just need to ... and ... then ... That should do it.
Rerun the diagnostics, cycle through the self test procedures.
@self:Looks good.
Setup commands for Ren Man, to take the tools back to the shop, clean and put them away, then plugin to top up the charge. Exit Ren Man, back into VR. Close the subscription to the SPU. Mark the SPU repair as completed. Check on Ms Beaver.
@self:Still busy, busy.
@mac(3):”You messed that up somehow, but come with me and I'll practice some Seneca while monitoring the building sensors”.
Reduce the building sensor monitoring windows back down to a single connection. Jump into the Node.
@self:spider in the web
Sprogget feels the temperature sensor results on his skin, sees with the eyes of the building cameras, feels the circulation of the air through the ventilation systems as is own breath. He can not really pay attention to ALL of that data at once, but at VR speeds, he can shuffle through the information very fast. People that show up on the cameras look like they are wading through quicksand.
Sprogget spots something out of place.
@self:Isn't Treadle supposed to be in a class today?
Checks the public information about scheduled activities.
@self:Thought so. Playing a bit of hooky.
@Treadle: Text message, <<**I** do **NOT** see you through these cameras, but someone else might. If you checked when I was supposed to go on shift, the SPU repair went quick, so I am early. Get out of here before the static clears from this camera -- Sprogget>>

Treadle:Starts, looks around quickly, spots the camera. He gives it the finger, but hurrys off. Either back where he belongs, or somewhere else hopefully off camera.

Move the subscription to Ms Beaver from personal to the spider, leaving a window up to watch progress, and watch for problems. Open a new voice and text data window.
@mac(3):”Ok Mac, you've got this window. Randomly grab sensor data from the building with reasonable text information, translate the data to Seneca, and feed it text and voice to this connection. I'll match to the sensors I've got, and tell you in Seneca what sensor the data is from. You confirm / correct and go on, until the end of my shift here”.

Mac(3):Straightens the tin hat, connects a lever to the indicated channel, the cog of a gear into the raw sensor streams, and feeds the first data through.

Sprogget relaxes, putting most of his attention on the sensor data, replying almost absently to Mac's offerings.
@self:That should keep me awake.

An hour later, Sprogett notices that Ms Beaver is done with the wall repairs. He sends a command to her, to modify the generic RTB, to include cleaning and putting away the tools, then topping up the charge.

The counter for the shift runs down. Sprogget cleans up the VR environment, closing extra windows, and basically tidying up, in preparation for the next person using the node, either in AR or VR. Exit from the building node, back to VR, close the remaining unneeded subscription then exit from VR back to AR and the shop.
@Mac(3):”OK Mac, a bit of play time. I think it is time to hookup that shroud to the monocycle, and give it a field test. You jump into the monocyle node, and monitor connection progress for me”.

Mac(3):Spins the gears, and dives into the Monocycle node, waiting for the installation to start.

[ChromeZephyr]

@E:Tribes, Scrapheap
September 1, 2072, 06:03:42; Mechanicals complex
PAN mode: Active | ID displayed: SCRAPHEAP

Scrapheap backed the motorcycle into it's normal spot and shut the motor off. While there had been a few things the night vendors at the Crime Mall had that he wanted, his wallet didn't support it and he wasn't about to agree to any "loans". He slid the shotgun from it's holster and climbed the stairs up to the common area of his bunk room, stopping to look at the AR board displaying the shifts for the upcoming day.

Scrapheap: North Quadrant patrol, 21:00 - 07:00

Whew. Patrol I can handle, glad I'm not stuck up in the gardens again. Compost makes me gag. He began to turn away and head back to his bunk to maybe get a few more hours of shut-eye in so he didn't have to scrounge some Long Haul for his shift when a shift note towards the top caught his attention by changing color and blinking.

Reginald Corwith III: Hydroponics maintenance , 06:00-completion. 3rd shift not on time.

Ohhh, shit. Stupid halfer's gonna get tossed out on his ass tonight if Spindle gets wind of this. Scrapheap strode quickly away from the board to his bunk, pausing by the curtained-off area across the aisle from his. The sounds of quiet but obvious passion drifted over the curtain, and Scrapheap grinned.

"Yo, Reggie. You're late for work, stuntie. Again."

The sounds ceased, followed by a loud stream of half-intelligible curses and shuffling. Barely ten seconds passed and a black-skinned dwarf came barreling out of the bunk, trying vainly to strap a toolbelt around his unbuttoned pants before crashing into another denizen. Scrapheap turned away, still grinning. "Sorry to interrupt, Jasmine. He ain't gonna be able to pay you if he gets thrown out tonight."

The Fillipina ork prostitute in Reggie's area shrugged as she continued dressing. "He paying me no matter, else Jamba take it from him some way else." Scrapheap shook his head and pulled the curtain on his own "home", put the shotgun back by the head of his cot, placed his glasses and commlink on his desk, and laid down on the cot. Sleep claimed him a moment later, this time without interruption.

[Nightfalke]

@E:Tribes, Alpha Apex
September 1, 2072 06:30:00; SE Corner of 39th Ave NW and 7th St SW
BioNode: Hidden | Meta Link: Active, SIN: Alan Shepard

Good morning, Alpha. It is oh-six thirty, and this is your wake-up call.

Alpha grunts as he picks his head up off the steps of the run down office building's entryway he was using for shelter from the elements last night, and sits upright on the steps rubbing his eyes and attempting to get the massive ache out of his back and neck.

"Was I actually asleep, Phobos? I'm not entirely sure. It's not like there is much of a sunrise when there are grey clouds blanketing everything... When was the last time we saw the sun, anyway?"

Your biorhythms indicated a long stretch of stage 4 sleep from 01:15:37 to 02:27:14 and another from 03:04:52 to 04:34:51. As for the last sunny day, it was August 27, 2072 with sunrise at 06:23:17.

"Right...Why the hell am I out here again, when I could be sleeping in the relative comfort of my shit hole apartment, with a decent cup of soykaff and a roof?" Alpha shakes out his arms and legs, trying to get some feeling back into them after a long, but apparently restful night, if Phobos was to be believed. Sure doesn't feel like I got any sleep...

Zero One determined there will be an auspicious event happening on this street corner in this 48 hour time period which will further the enlightenment of biologics and enhance relations. Further resolution of the determination was inconclusive. Therefore, you were stationed here starting at 20:00:00 August 31, 2072 and will remain until 20:00:00 September 2, 2072 or until the event occurs.

Rubbing his forehead as Phobos rattled off the events of the past evening, Alpha rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Thank you for the recap. I was being rhetorical, Phobos."

Of course. My apologies, Alpha. You know that my grasp of biological idiosyncracies are tenuous at best.

Alpha starts to connect to the Freedom Tribe's nodes within the mall, as he sits down on the steps again, and watches the world go by.

[JxJxA]

@E:PL/UK
[May 21st, 2072, 15:52:41, NeoNet Zepplin bound for Exeter, ETA 16:00:00]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton

Gemeaux nods, acknowledging the input from his remaining companions.

"Depending on her disposition, the favor might require me to attend to some business. I shall do what I can to schedule it after, or collateral to, our current venture."

<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne could you please get me Lady deBathayre?>>

<<[Vivienne]: Already? Damien, doesn't this break your "wait two days before calling" rule?>>

<<[Gemeaux]: First of all, it is not a rule but a guideline. Second, I never held true to that when I was with you. Finally, this is business and not purely pleasure... My dear, do I detect a hint of jealousy?>>

<<[Vivienne]: From me? Never. Patching you through now. Also, switching to running names, Gemeaux. I would not want you to get caught off-guard twice in one evening.>>

Gemeaux grins wistfully as he remembers the spirit of the woman that the program emulates. Lianne was right, the woman was a true artist when it came to coding. However, such nostalgic notions would have to wait for another time. He banishes the memories of Vivienne to the back of his mind while he conducts his conversation with the Lady deBathayre.

<<[Gemeaux]: My dear Lady, it appears that a former associate---qui n'est rien de plus qu'une sale, traître, merde manger fils de salope if you will pardon my French---has placed me in a situation where I am in need of a friend. When we spoke of my future service to your master, I had not thought that an opportunity might arise so quickly. Is there, perhaps, something that I could do for you that might put my group on the right track for completing our prior engagement?>>

[Machine Ghost]

@E:Tribes + Sprogget
September 1, 2072 14:28:51; Sprogget's Workshop
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Public; SIN: Hugo Wright

OoC: Just Previously

[ Spoiler ]

@Mac(3):”OK Mac, a bit of play time. I think it is time to hookup that shroud to the monocycle, and give it a field test. You jump into the monocyle node, and monitor connection progress for me”.

Mac(3):Spins the gears, and dives into the Monocycle node, waiting for the installation to start.

Sprogget notices the time @self:Maybe axc4mr is in. Profile says something about ceramics.
@Mac(3):”Hold that thought. I need to check something”.

Call axc4mr using contact information on the makers guild post.

Audio Only, female voice:<<You got the machine. You know da drill.>> Beeep

@self:Slot, just vmil. Well ...
@vmil: <<Hello a-zee-sea-4-mer. I saw the post on the guild forum. Depending what, shape it is in, I might be able to use that Peng You. This is Sprogget_sp, contact me at>> interrupted

axc4mr: Click. Same voice. <<Sprogget? You do the steampunk?>>

@self:Pleased to be recognized for the work, Hey, a fan! Was call filtering but listening. Maybe I can trade something from my projects as part payment.

axc4mr: Click. <<You planning to punk the truck?>>

@self:Might even get a discount on the price?
@axc4mr: Cautiously <<Uh, I don't have it yet. Don't know if it is useable for more than scrape.>>

axc4mr: <<Oh, It's broke, but should be easily fixable. My ex left it in my garage when he skipped awhile back, but he was using it not long before that. Was running fine then. Oh, call me Alex.>>

@self:Alex? Alexia? axc4mr, Alex Ceramic Former. Ah! Wonder how much she knows about vehicles? Older, not 'old' voice. 30ish?
@Alex: <<You did not get it fixed to use yourself, Alex?>>

Alex: Distastefully, <<A pick-up is so not me. And way more than is needed to haul a box of miniatures to a meet.>>

@self:Ceramic miniatures, not pots!, but that did not tell me much.
@Alex: <<Well, I'd like to at least have a look at it. Could I come by this aft? Ah, .. would you be interested in some Sprogget Originals for part, if we come to a deal?>>

Alex: Sounding interested, but not enthusiastic, <<I might like something, though I'm not a wealthy collector. I'm in the middle of something for the next couple hours, but I have some time after that. Here's the address. From the little I know, you won't be to bothered by the neighborhood.>> An AR window separates from main comm connection, with an icon for a meat address, and a label of axc4mr.

The details show a street address in Tacoma. Sprogget opens a subscription to the public reference information, and hands it the address. The mapping application highlights a location at the edge of Milton. A quick check shows that to be a residential area in a D zone.
@self:I was just going to take the cycle to have a look, and dicker, but I've got a feeling... I should be able to sign out the flatdeck.
Quick check of the scheduling queues.
@self:Yep, Its available ... maybe grab a couple others to ride shotgun ...
If this turns out to be really drek, I can just hand it over to the Tribe for salvage processing. Let's see, looks like about an hour travel from here pulling the deck. Maybe bit more.
@Alex: short pause while processing the address information, <<That should work. Absent gang warfare, I should be able to be there in about 2 and half. I'll bring along a few sample trade pieces, on speculation. Here's a mugshot, so you know who's at the door>>, sending a holo showing Sprogget in the workshop, but with no location specific information. <<I'll probably be bringing a couple friends with, to help load if things go silk.>>

Alex: Slight pause receiving the image<<Ok, garage entrance is at the rear. Ping me when you get close, and I'll meet you there.>>

@Alex: <<Will do Alex. See you in a bit. Discomm.>>
Disconnect call.

@self:Ok, collect interesting samples, reserve truck, post for escorts, grab a quick snooze while waiting, to see if I can get rid of this headache. And maybe recoup a bit of sleep missed last night. Oh, I should see about filling a few more work hours too.
Connect to the 'Tribal Resources' app, go to 'transportation', reserve for "Sprogget", 'flat deck trailer' plus 'truck with hitch and winch' plus 'standard attachments package, discrete'.
@self:The regular tarps and tied downs, plus the cosmetic junk should be just fine, so any watchers will be less likely to see something worth intercepting.
Flag the reservation to be ready to roll for 16:10, and flag to call immediately if any availability problem, mark expected return for 19:30.
@self:BB is good. They'll have it all ready to go. That reminds me though. I'll miss super. Need to report in on that too. Oh, and might as well release Mac. No install for now.
Exit 'transportation', go to 'casual', post message, <<Got some salvage to secure offsite. Could use a couple people for escort and shotgun. If interested, ping me, or even just meet at the BB, at 16:05 (5 minutes after 4 PM) to say hi, and head out by 16:10. I'll be discomm for about an hour, will respond to interest after that. Should be around 3 hours round trip -- Sprogget.>>

@Mac(3):”Install work delayed. Your tasks are complete. Thanks for the help.”.
Sprogget watches as the sprite derezzes, and returns to the resonance.

@self:If I just 'tell' Mom, she'll want to ask questions and lecture some. By posting, with detail references, it should keep this in a more work context, and short-cut complaints.
Close connection to resources, connect to CHN. Post to 'family events': <<I'm going to miss supper. Got what looks to be some wiz swag to collect -- S>> Attach references to the resource entries.

Check the current posted jobs queue.
@self:No. No. not likely. No. Wait. Ms Beaver has most of a charge after this mornings work. Not the best fighter around, but she does look good carrying a shotgun, and has good eyes.
Assign task "random mobile patrol" to drone "Mes Beaver - Sprogget" for 16:30 to 20:30.
@Ms Beaver:”You get foot patrol duty tonight. After finished charging, and no later than 16:00 today, go to security office and requisition 1 shotgun authorization random mobile patrol id. At 16:30, subscribe to security patrol node and initiate 'current random patrol--4 hours' task, on task completion, return shotgun to security office, then RTB, and suck electrons”.
Edit the family events posting to insert <<(Ms. Beaver has foot patrol shift this evening)>>
@self:Just in case someone is checking the shop.

@self:That just leaves collecting trinkets, and getting myself to the BB in and hour a bit. An hours rest, grab display sample package ?what be best for maker guild, artist, fem, ceramics, low to mid neighborhood? dream on it .. I can park the cycle at BB for the duration, to save a few minutes. ... Everything lined up? Mentally reviews things, Oh, wake up call.
Set commlink to send all non 'emergency' calls to vmil, set to let BB directly through, set alarm with progressively increasing attention getting for 1 hour 5 minutes from now.
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Hidden; SIN: Hugo Wright
September 1, 2072 14:39:24; Sprogget's Workshop

@self:OK. Relax, rest ...

[Nightfalke]

@E:Tribes, Alpha Apex
September 1, 2072 06:35:42;
Physical Location: SE Corner of 39th Ave NW and 7th St SW;
Virtual Location: Prospero's Nexus node in the Mall
BioNode: Hidden | Meta Link: Active, SIN: Alan Shepard

Alpha slips into the Fre∑dom Tribe's main node at the mall like a hand into a well worn glove. While he typically prefers to see nodes in his own paradigm of colors, geometry and archetypical icons, Alpha also knows that Prospero gets annoyed when everyone isn't enjoying his little island paradise as much as he does. As Alpha slowly allows the imposed reality of the node past his mental shields, the smell and taste of the salty sea spray is the first thing that resolves, then the sound of the ocean and seagulls, and finally the blinding sunlight of the beach locale presses in on Alpha's mind.

Not much activity on the node this early. Except for the ones who never went to sleep in the first place, most of the rest of the tribe are still asleep. They seem to prefer the harsh virtual sunlight of Prospero's node to the real actual sunlight of the outside, and generally are nocturnal. Not much attention is paid to Alpha's entrance, as those who are online now are too engrossed in whatever they are trying to do, be it hacking, gaming, or fornicating, to notice.

Prospero's voice echos across the beach from his usual spot, "Hey Alpha. Nice hat."

Alpha reaches up, confused, and removes a large green and red sombrero from his persona's head. Confused, he composes a quick message to Phobos.
<<Phobos...why am I wearing a sombrero?>>

I am unsure. I do not recall instructing you to wear a sombrero.

[ChromeZephyr]

@E:Tribes, Scrapheap
September 1, 2072, 12:02; Scrapheap's "room"

Scrapheap muzzily looked at the sheet blocking off his area as a commotion on the other side of it woke him from sleep. When the noise didn't subside he sighed and shifted to a seated position on his cot, then got to his feet and poked his head out to see what was going on. Reggie and another dark-skinned dwarf with dreadlocks nearly as long as he was tall were shifting the contents of the former's doss onto a flatbed cart, with the former muttering imprecations under his breath all the while. The second dwarf looked up at Scrapheap when his head poked out, started momentarily at his disfigurement, then hurriedly covered it with a scowl. "Whaz you lookin' at, bumboclaat?"

Scrapheap's face somehow got even uglier as he flushed with anger. Before he could do anything, though, Reggie slapped his companion roughly upside the head. "Eediot. 'S tha only raison I gets time to move mah swag rath' than they throw its in tha' gutta. Close ya lips." Reggie looked up at Scrapheap. "Mebbe I sees you arawnd, breeda. Gon be'n tha 'hood still, tah?"

Scrapheap nodded. "Stay chill, pinty. Jamba's prolly already lookin' for you, you left Jasmine no scratch."

The dwarf winced, rubbing the back of his head. "Yah. I got it control, no sheen." His dreadlocked companion cleared his throat, and Reggie glared at him. "Yah, yah, yah. We's goin'." The two dwarves shifted the cart around, then headed away from Scrapheap's area towards the freight elevator. Scrapheap noted the second dwarf's appearance for later, then dropped the sheet back in place and lay back down on his cot. Little bastard. Won't be talkin' so much shit with a shotgun muzzle in your teeth. He dozed off a few minutes later, still thinking ugly thoughts.

September 1, 2072, 15:08; Scrapheap's "room"

The buzzing of his commlink brought Scrapheap out of his dozing, and after a few seconds of confusion the ork got up and plugged his earbud in. "Yeah?"

"Hello to you too, Sunshine." Scrapheap recognized the voice of Dumptruck, the troll scavenger that had been the catalyst for him joining the Mechanicals in the first place. Amusement filled his voice. "Glad you're not on viz, I just ate. Anyways, one'a da tykes is goin' out in an hour to collect sometin', needs some strongarms to discourage the scum from fuckin' with him while he's out. Figured you and dat boomstick of yours would be up for it."

"Sounds great, 'cept I've got patrol tonight, and dose runs never get back on time. Reggie jus' got tossed for bein' late, not somethin' I want. Not been here long enough to be flakin'."

The troll on the other end chuckled, which sounded like a brick wall collapsing through the earpiece. "You just show up at 16:05 wif your gun and willingness ta hurt people, I'll send the location to your 'link. This'll cover your shift, I'll get it transferred ta someone else. You've been workin' a lot lately for someone not pullin' much more dan a corner and three plates o'shite. Maybe dis'll push you up the list for an actual room, neh? I'll let the guy know you'll be there, and who to look for. See you around, Scrap." Scrapheap's commlink buzzed a second later with the data Dumptruck sent him.

September 1, 2072, 15:59; The Bus Barn
PAN mode: Active | ID displayed: SCRAPHEAP

Scrapheap rolled into the vehicle bay on his Triumph and parked it next to the truck with trailer rimed in gold light in the AR of his glasses. He took his helmet off and hung it on the handlebar of the chopper, folded his arms, and loaded the electronics textbook he'd been slogging through while he waited for this "Sprogget" to show up. Most of what the e-book scrolling in his glasses talked about went right over his head, but some of it was starting to stick so he persevered.

[ Spoiler ]

Scrapheap has the following gear on his person/bike:

• Lined coat (worn)
• Helmet (as detailed above)
• Remington 990 (in bike holster, loaded with first 3 rounds shot, the remaining 5 are slug)
• Machete (in scabbard on belt under jacket)
• Survival knife (in scabbard strapped to thigh opposite the machete)
• Commlink (in inside pocket of lined coat)
- Datasoft (Electronics) in memory
- Black Hate moodchip slotted into chipslot of 'link, not running
• Earbuds (in ears, slaved to commlink)
• Transition sunglasses (on face, currently shaded due to time of day, slaved to commlink)
• Low-light flashlight (in outside pocket of lined coat)
• Stim patch (in outside pocket of lined coat, opposite side from flashlight)

[Machine Ghost]

@E:Tribes + Sprogget
September 1, 2072 15:44:24; Sprogget's Workshop
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Hidden; SIN: Hugo Wright

Sprogget wakes up suddenly from his nap, heart pounding, when the alarm gets to the fourth intensity level with Troll's Revenge, Junkyard track. Mentally, he reflexively slaps the 'off' button, sitting up quickly. That broken spring speeds him along.

@self:Slot, but that could get way annoying!
Taking stock, Sprogget finds the head ache is gone
@self:At least that snooze wiped the headache.

@self:Now, to find out if anyone showed interested in that road trip.
BioNode: Hidden | CMT Clip: Active; SIN: Hugo Wright

Sprogett subscribes to the message board, and checks the status of the previous posting.
@self:Ah, a reply!

14:58 ID: Dumptruck:<<<< I've got a lad who'll ride along with you to discourage problems. He's new, but has experience with the problems you're likely to encounter out there.>> Attachment: Security camera still of Scrapheap << His name is Scrapheap, and he doesn't speak much techie, so keep that in mind when you chatter at him.>>

@self:Scrapheap huh? That face belongs on one. Someone really messed that chummers face. Glad I saw the pic before meeting him. He could take people staring rather personal. Not techie? What's he doing round here then? Well, don't need a techjockey to cover shipping. Dumptruck would not steer me to a bit-brain.

@self:No messages from the barn, so that is all on course.
Close subscription.

@self:Ok, what treat's do I have around that might interest Alex? Small stuff. A datachip, standard credstick, teacup,
kaf mug, a wrist band to hold a commlink, pair of goggles, a frame that can hold a pair of goggles, white noise generator rating 3, set of trodes, set of AR Gloves. Anything else she can look at in AR, and get later. Standard sample pack.

Sprogget hesitates before putting the [carefully wrapped] package of sample items into his backpack.
@self:Could get a bit squishy with all the tools too.
Take the automotive tookkit out of the pack, leaving the hardware and artisan toolkits. Add the sampler package, tie the automotive tookkit to the outside of the pack, then fasten the backpack to the custom bracket on the monocycle.
@self:There. Not the best, but that can go in the truck, soon as I get to BB. Just be extra careful till I get there.

@self:Now let's see about a bit of e-support. The monocycle is good enough to drive itself if need be, or I can rig it from wherever. That truck though is not so bright, and not rigable either. Lets see about a driving assistant, and maybe some knowledge about keeping the convoy unnoticed.
Sprogget, grabs the resonance with mental fingers, and forms it into the tutor sprite he envisions. The resonance just seems to beg to be molded. A tutor sprite(3) rezzes into Sprogget's bio node, with a steering wheel, plus various pedals and switches, recognizable from early vehicle controls.
@self:4 tasks, and not even a hint of a headache!
@RoadRunner:"Welcome to the party RoadRunner, we're gonna have fun! First off, use your stability power to protect us both from any glitches, for as long as you have more tasks to do, or another task in progress. I'll assign other tasks later".

Roadrunner:Gives an assenting rumble, that although very mechanical, sounds like a strict professor clearing his throat.

@self:Since I'll be traveling with others, let's try out a tac net. Currently I can only provide 5 channels, so nothing more than rating 2 is of any use, even if others have more channels.
Sprogget grabs the resonance with his mind, to thread a tacsoft complex form. The resonance offered a little more than he needed, but he turned it down.
@self:Ok, that's set. Let's see if it will be worth the distraction of keeping it going.

Sprogget commands the shop doors to open while strapping into and starting the monocycle. Driving carefully out of the shop, he closes and locks the door, setting standard security, then heads over to the Bus Barn. On the way, he pulls up the reservation.
@self:Good, it's ready to go. Bay 2.

September 1, 2072 16:00:18; Mechanicals Bus Barn

Even taking it slow, it only takes a few minutes to get to the barn. He could have walked here almost as fast.
As Sprogget pulls into the designated bay, he sees the trailer hitched to the truck, with tarp wrapped bundle tied down on the trailer. The orc sitting on a chopper next to the trailer, staring into space, matches the pic from DumpTruck, and his PAN shows him as Scrapheap too.
@self:Approvingly, A bit early, we can chat a bit, while waiting to see if anyone else feels like a drive to scenic Tacoma.
Sprogget pings Scrapheap's comm, popping up an ARO, <<Hey Scrapheap. I got a message from Dumptruck that you would be joining me for this little picnic in the sprawl. Be with you in a couple. Just need to do a quick inspection -- Sprogget>>, dropping an AR outline around himself in Scrapheaps AR view, if he looks Sproggets direction.

Sprogget, pulls up to beside the truck, and transfers the backpack and toolkit to the cab. He then does a quick physical inspection of the truck, trailer, hitching, and tied down bundle, making sure everything is secure. He then subscribes to the node for the truck, checking the system status. Finally he opens a subscription to the reservation system, confirming delivery, and closing the reservation subscription again. He starts a short diaganostic, then letting it run, approaches Scrapheap, to introduce himself in person.

September 1, 2072 16:03:58; Mechanicals Bus Barn

@Scrapheap: "All set here. How you do'in today?".

[ Spoiler ]

Sprogett worn and carried equipment
Armor Jacket + Insulation(6) + Fire Resistance(6)
Bike Racing Helmet with virtual surround sound music and visor with image link + Flare compensation + skin link
Butt Pack with respirator(4)
Back Pack with Hardware and Artisan toolkits, plus sample pack of steampunked items, Automotive toolkit external
Subvocal microphone
Goggles with image link, vision magnification, thermographic, vision enhancement(3)
Survival knife on belt
CMT Clip commlink on an armband.
Horizon-Doble Revolution visibly customized for an orc, with an armored wheel, an striking steampunk 'accessories'. Additional but not obviously visible modifications for rigger adaption and upgraded sensors. Also a skinlink, so all wi-fi emissions can be suppressed while riding.

[Mickle5125]

@E:CoP/Elton Wellborn
[August 20th, 2072, 13:00; Oxford]

"Mr. Jefferson! Good news. You remember the trinket you asked me about? Yes, that's the one. It just so happens that an opportunity has come up to acquire it, and I was wondering if you were still interested. You are? Oh, that is good news. Yes, it is very rare, isn't it? I have no doubt that you'll be happy when you see it. The usual payment arrangements are acceptable. Yes, that's perfect. I'll have my people deliver it to the usual place this evening. It's always a pleasure doing business with you. Goodbye." Elton ends the call without waiting for Mr. Jefferson's response. It was always so hard pretending to like the fat, lazy slob...

As he exits his office and makes his way into the rest of the apartment, a smile crosses his face as he hears the familiar sound of sausage sizzling in a frying pan. He enters the kitchen to find Jessica, his sister, cooking sausage and eggs for breakfast. He chuckles softly to himself as he watches her do what she loves. He kisses her on the cheek and grins as he steals a plate of food she just finished filling. "Don't wait up for me tonight, sis. I have a party to attend over at the NeoNet Tower. Probably another boring business gathering..."