Travelling Gwillimburys, IC thread Options

[pbangarth]

11:50, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Bongo Slade glides past the doorman with the password Dana gave them last night. The long lineup is full of the hopeful, the desperate, and the disenchanted. Many give Bongo a glare of jealousy.

He makes his way through the crowd to the back room, noticing in passing that the music is a touch better tonight. Ah... there in the crowd are last night's crew. "Good. Haven't lost them yet."

He sits in a comfortable lounge chair in the back room, and orders a drink through the AR service.

[pbangarth]

11:50 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

As an afterthought, Bongo pulls up the room's music system, and starts up his own piece, "Storm Over the Horizon." That should last into the first minutes of the next day.

[Red-ROM]

12:00, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Max never came to the same club two nights in a row. This was against all his rules. It was a sign of stagnation, being out of the loop. None of the trend setters from last night were here now. This was so second string, but this was not a social appearance. He was working. He kept his interactions this evening light and non-committal. He was talking finance with some accountant named Chet when he caught a glimpse of his new favorite drummer heading to the back room. The final player was pulling up to the table. He had seen the others in the club, but gave them space thus far, waiting for the appropriate time and place.
"Chet, let me give you some advice. The market is like a poker game. It's not about the cards. If the people think you have a straight flush. Then what you have is a straight flush. Weather you think you're right, or think you're wrong, people will agree with you. Now I have to take my leave friend. you just let that marinate"
These were old clichés, but young Chet was blown away. He sat pondering like a young Buddhist as Max made his way to the private room. Today he was sober and more low key. Was this to appease the fiery woman from last night? He told himself that it wasn't. He just didn't want to draw any extra attention this evening.He wore a gray, tailored suit with light blue accessories and mirrored shades in the vest pocket. There was little he could do to tone down his good looks or bright smile, but his posture was shifted to reserved business man.
He entered the room and smiled at Bongo,"Excuse me, is this where the magic happens? " He laughed once at his own joke and grabbed a seat.

[Glyph]

12:10, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Tristan was in the club well before the appointed meeting time, smiling and mingling while surreptitiously scanning his surroundings. He hasn't been a player on the scene for long, so he doubts this meet is a trap or a sting. You can never be too careful, though. And his ingrained habits have kept him alive so far.

The club really doesn't impress him, but then again, nightclubs rarely do. They are nice places to pick up some wide-eyed party girl, or a slumming corporate woman with jaded eyes, but he prefers the more laid-back ambiance, and more stimulating conversation, to be found in places like coffee houses and other bohemian hangouts.

No matter. He is here for business, not pleasure. After he sees Bongo, then Max, head to the meeting room, he slowly eases over there, entering a minute or so after Max.

The young ork looks as guileless and unassuming as ever, although the people in the room know that he is augmented, at least, so he can't be quite as harmless as he seems. Right?

"Evening, gents," he says, as he walks into the room, casually appropriating one of the padded chairs.

[Red-ROM]

12:11, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Max stood to greet Tristan as he entered,"The same to you my friend, and might I say, I like the threads. A little quiet for me, but it comes across easy as chi tea. A smart look for a guy with your skills I'm sure. I guess we'll save the Business talk until after roll call. I can tell our bohemian partner here has got something under his proverbial hat "

[SleepIncarnate]

12:11, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Now that everyone was here and in the room, Pyro slipped out of the booth she'd been talking to Dana in and the two headed in, closing the door behind them. Tonight she was dressed in simple, form fitting black under her lined trenchcoat, wearing her AR glasses over her eyes as she surveyed the crowd.

"Now that we're all here, why don't we get down to business? It's not that I don't trust you, which I don't, it's that I fully expect at least one of ye to end up getting us all killed, or trying to at least."

[pbangarth]

12:11, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Bongo laughs and speaks up. "Well, let me be the first to offer up an opportunity for us to do that.

"An acquaintance of mine collects ... oddities and rare items and sells them to make a living. He has run across a drum kit, a set of musical percussion instruments, that appears to have some magic aura about it. He's been teasing me about it for a week, now. Saying he will let me have a look at the kit 'soon'. But, he can't figure it out, and would like to know more about the set.

"Specifically, he would like a team to figure out the enchantment on the instruments, find out who made them, and find out if there are more like them. For this information, he would pay 10,000 nuyen. Not much for a team of four, I admit, but he throws in the teaser that if there are more, he would be willing to pay for a separate run to acquire them. I know this guy well enough to say that if something cool is available, he will pay well to get it.

"I can dig into the astral aura of the instruments and look for clues to communicate to the rest of you. That may take some time. Psychometry is a difficult beast to control at the best of times. In the meantime, with details of where and when he got the instruments provided by my contact, the rest of you can track down the source and investigate. This should give us all an idea of how we work together and whether we can gel as a team."

Bongo sits back and takes a long draught of the drink he had ordered.

[Red-ROM]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
Max smiled at the woman's remarks,"There was a musician, I've been told, who wore black all the time. Someone asked him why he was dressed like he was going to a funeral. He replied, Maybe I am."
He paused for a moment to take his glasses from his jacket and place them on his head, his smile revealed for a second the Betel gum he was chewing,"I wouldn't read into it babe, just a passing thought"
Max kept the wincing internal as Bongo mentioned the pay. It wouldn't cover this months rent. This was turning to a charity case, but sometimes you had to look long term. He was a very small fish in the magical pond. This kind of job could put him in new circles,"So have you got the details, or do we need to meet your friend?"

[pbangarth]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Should we take the job, he would allow us access to the items and give us the information himself."

[Red-ROM]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
PAN: hidden / Dummy comm: passive

With his mirrored sunglasses in place, Max switched on the thermographic. Looking at auras was useful in all kinds of situations, but it was good not to lose site of other, more practiced tools. The Lie detection software silently measured eye movement, body temperature shifts, perspiration, and calculated the odds of honesty from the others. Max was usually more accurate with his own gut instinct, but he found the information useful none the less. He leaned back in his seat and played with his cuff link, giving a relaxed impression,"Well, I had a few offers today, the only immediate proposal was a little too ... Fishy for my taste. I'd hate to ruin my first impression here by sending us on a wild goose chase. I like this drum business. Its interesting, a little different from the usual snatch and grab. I gotta be honest, the pay won't get me a new pair of shoes, but I can probably find a way to turn a profit. If there's a product moving around this city, I can usually find it pretty quick, but my network gets a little thin when we start jumping borders. I can tell you this; If someone can make it, and someone will buy it, then there will be more of them. I don't know a whole lot about magic, but I do know supply and demand."

[pbangarth]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Bongo smiles at the old 'I have other jobs I could be doing' ploy. He turns to the other two. "How about you, Tristan and Pyro?"

[pbangarth]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Nothing about Bongo's demeanour or language seems false to Max. Near as Max can tell, this is not a scam of any kind.

[Glyph]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Tristan shrugs slightly.

"I find myself kind of leaning towards doing this drum kit job. I got two job offers, but the first one, frankly, I wouldn't want to try to pull off with a team of people who just met each other. The other one is a straight up muscle job, security for this meet between two factions. Low end of the food chain stuff, and not really a good fit for the talent here."

Max doesn't detect any unusual stress from Tristan - not much stress at all, actually. His usual hesitant, slightly nervous manner seems to only go skin deep.

[SleepIncarnate]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Pyro looked at the trio of men and sighed, shaking her head.

"If the lot of ye are done trying to determine who has the biggest penis, which is me by the way, we can get to work proper. I've got a job that could be done, and it might be the type of work the lot of ye are skilled at, but it's not something for a new team, especially when they've been untested. I say we take this drum job, assuming the price is negotiable. It is negotiable, I assume?"

[pbangarth]

12:12, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

With a twinkle in his eye, Bongo responds, "Yours is the biggest, huh? Wouldn't it be interesting to discover that first-hand.

"As far as negotiation, that is always possible, but not always successful. It would appear we are in agreement to try this job. So let me get a hold of my contact and see what can be done."

Bongo asks Dana, "Could you please let me have access to the outside from here?" Dana manipulates something in the control panel. "Go ahead," she says.

<<@Mick the Slick:Hoy, buddy, I have great news for you! Yeah, yeah, I know what time it is, and don't tell me you were asleep. This is when you do your best business.>> *pause* <<Girlfriend? You devil! I thought you only lusted after money. Look I'll make this quick. I have a team interested in your information gathering expedition. I have to say, though we are a class bunch. Got all the bases covered and capable. You treat us right and this could turn into a profitable enterprise for you. I know what those instruments could go for, and you get this bunch on your side, and we'll deliver the goods for you. Long story short, we need a little more than what you offered.>> *wince*

<<No need to shout buddy, you know me and know I wouldn't scam you. We've got expenses here, setting this up,>> He looks at Dana and smiles, << and expertise that needs to be rewarded. So, there are four of us active in the run, and a background support person who is donating resources to this endeavour. And think of what it would mean to be the only source for a new magic! Give us five thousand each, with a thousand up front, and you will be on your way to pawn shop mythology. Waddaya say?>> *pause*

<<Uh huh.>> *longer pause*

<<Uh huh. Lemme see what they say. Hang on.>>

"He says he's willing to pay four thousand each, including Dana, with a thousand up front. I think that's as far as he will go. Is it a deal?"

[Red-ROM]

12:12, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Max was getting a good feeling from this group. He had worked with all sorts of people in this business, but these guys had a refreshing honesty about them. Even the hard ass chick, with the name befitting her Irish attitude, seemed to be coming around a bit. When asked about the offer on the table, Max simply nodded his agreement.

[Glyph]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"That sounds acceptable, for a relatively straightforward legwork job."

The money still isn't that impressive, but that's okay for Tristan. The main point of this is to see if the new team can gel and work together. Hopefully, this little run should tell him a bit more about his potential teammates. Max and Bongo talk a good game, but how will they handle it when it's for real? The mage worries him more. The loud and blustery ones are often the ones who are insecure about their abilities.

But then again, they are probably wondering about him, too. He has cultivated his non-threatening appearance, and used it to his advantage. But that same appearance is not too reassuring to teammates who are relying on him as muscle. Ah well, they'll learn. With any luck, not for awhile yet. The best runs, after all, are the ones where his more lethal talents never have to come into play.

[SleepIncarnate]

12:12, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"That will have to do, for now. At least it's a little better than hooding, I can't spend good feelings."

[Red-ROM]

12:13, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Already, Max's mind was running in several directions, Like a pack of hunting dogs on a short leash. He had so many phone calls to make, possibly travel permits to forge, and all he was waiting on was some details to plug into the equation. He watched Bongo on the comm as if he could decipher the information he craved from thte expressions on his face. Max was good, but not that good.

[pbangarth]

12:15, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
(PAN: active)

Bongo nods an ackknowledgement to the team. <<OK, Mick. It's a go on our end. When can we get a look at the items and get their provenience? Uh huh. Alright, we'll be at your place at noon. Yes, I see I have the advance 5000 nuyen. See you at noon.>>

"Dana, can you provide an account into which I can transfer everybody's share and which we can all access?"

"Sure," she replies, "and I appreciate being included in the negotiated payment. This goes some way towards making up for your original bumbling." In moments an ARO appears in everybody's display with information regarding the account. Bongo transfers 4000 nuyen to it, 1000 for each of the other people present.

"So, here is the address of Mick's pawn shop." <<address>> "We are to meet there at noon, and he will fill us in on what he knows."

[Red-ROM]

12:16, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
PAN: Hidden / Dummy comm: active(slaved)

Still no details. His mind was like a bow string quivering to be let go,"So, we got twelve hours. Anything we need to do before then? I think we need to coordinate communications. Maybe establish a safe-house or two." Max pulls out his com and starts typing. He wished he could access the Matrix, but that would happen soon enough. For now he could organize some thoughts and keep his hands busy. "Normally, I would recon our Johnson. How well you know this guy Bongo?"

[pbangarth]

12:16, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"His name is Mick the Slick. He has a pawn shop in Tacoma." <<address>> "I've done a couple of reconnaissances for him, and lifted a few things from competitors in some sort of game they play amongst each other. He's been pretty straight with me."

[Glyph]

12:16, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Mick the Slick? His very name inspires confidence. Here's a commcode I use for business. Might be a tad soon to be worrying about safe houses, but if you think that's necessary, I'll defer to your judgement. Now, I have my own starter kit of shady connections, but remember, I'm the insurance for when things go sideways. So any of you get a lead that takes you someplace dangerous, let me know, so I can tag along and watch your back."

Tristan seems slightly more focused now, still preternaturally relaxed, but not showing any of his usual nervous tics. He doesn't mention it aloud, like Max, but he still plans to do his own checking on the Johnson, even it it's only running the name by his fixer to be sure it doesn't set off any alarm bells.

[Red-ROM]

12:17, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
PAN: Hidden / Dummy comm: active(slaved)

Max adds Tristan's number to his comm and shares his number with the group as well,"We have a pretty tight buget on this, so I'm thinking of putting safe-house on the back burner, I know some people that can scrape us up something if we need it. Not much else I can think of to do here. I'm ready to go home and get some beauty rest for the big date."

[pbangarth]

12:17, Sunday, 9 October, 2072, "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Alright. Beauty sleep sounds like a good idea. Don't spend your advance all in one place! See you at Mick's place a bit before noon. If someone comes up with any interesting dirt on him, let me know." An ARO with an address for Bongo appears. He nods to Dana, "Thanks for the organization. If we gel as a team, there could be more dividends for you. When this job is over, let's set up a date for the gig." He leaves the others in the meeting room and heads home. Damn, another night better spent alone. I think I've lost Lucretia.