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[Grey]

Weds, 1200 hours, August 20th, 2063

One by one they appear. A small white card on your door with an address, time, and a "Request for your Professional Services"...

[grendel]

The plain white card with its plain black lettering appealed to him somehow, the simplicity of it all, the pure utilitarianism of the message. It rested on the stained biege plastic of his countertop, and he stared at it while he ate. The soy was supposed to be chicken flavored, but it tasted like every other Bowl O Noodles stacked in his cupboard. Overlaying his vision, segmented out with geometric precision, were the windows of his network: the overhead surveillance feed from the Condor II, the five minute loop that showed the delivery of the message to his doorway, the map corresponding to the location on the card, the status bar listing location and readiness of all his drones. In response to a silent command, a fifth screen opened showing his comm interface. One of his phone icons highlights itself, and Zoe's LTG number appears next to it. The number pulses from relief to matte until his fixer's message service picks up.

"It's me. I've got a message here for a job. The address is for a downtown steakhouse. Do you know who's looking to hire me or anything at all about the restaurant? The usual bonus if the info comes quick."

Disconnecting from the call, Grendel drops his now empty plastic food container into the recycle bin before heading downstairs. The drive down to Los Angeles and back had taxed the resources of his network, and he was running behind on his maintenance. And now, with another job looming, time was not on his side.

[Grey]

Zoe's call come back within a few minutes.

"No one has come through me asking for you. But then again, you are fairly well known, so there could be a number of people that know how to get in contact with you. I'll see what I can dig up if you like. How much of a priority should I make it?"

[Grey]

The video feed plays over and over in Grendel's vision. A black Americar pulls up. The rear door opens and a female figure gets out. She's wearing a black starlight dress, with a black wide rim hat, so the airial veiw doesn't show much. On the group level she keeps her head tilted just enough not to show many features beyond full, red painted lips.

[grendel]

Grendel pauses, the blower fan half out of its housing beneath the Bison's forward electronics rack.

"First priority. If it's someone asking through outside channels, I want as much information as possible before I walk through those doors. Attached is a still from the surveillance feed earlier. Also one of the car she drove."

[Grey]

As the movie plays one more time, Grendel spots something he didn't notice before. There... on her hand, a silver ring. Zooming in on it several times, he can see that it is a serpent ring, a dragon's head biting the tail.

[grendel]

"Drek."

[Buddha72]

Onna moves through the garden and listens to the sound of the city leak through the serenity of the temple. She once again feels the easing of pressure as she slips from the world of Man. She nods as one of the brothers passes her. She finds comfort in his serene features and health. She knows the work at the community center does little to stop the encroachment of the Void on the spirits of this place, but she can find no other solution and refuses to do nothing. She leaves their faces and hunger behind for now, life must be lived in the now. There is no future or past, just the never-ending present.

She is pulled from her thoughts by the small white card on her doorstep. She kneels down to pick it up and sends a single call out through the astral planes. A moment later a small arctic fox materializes near her feet. Yuki did you see who delivered this? She begins to read the card to herself.

[Grey]

The small fox snuggles around Onna's anckles for a moment, then peers up at her. A woman. She did not mean any ill will, so I allowed her to leave the item. Was this wrong?

[Buddha72]

Not at all little sister. We so rarely have guests is all. She moves to enter her home. Sliding the door open, she removes her sneakers and makes room for Yuki to pass through. She slides the door closed and begins to fish out her phone. She ackwardly begins to dial a number into the acursed device, once again lamenting her lack of skill with these monkey-made machines. The Suit's name appears in the small window on the phone.

"Hello, this is Onna. I have a paper about a job. Do you send this paper?" Her English is forced but crisp, she seems to struggle with the word choice, taking her time to ensure complete understanding.

[Digital Heroin]

Immortal shoots the gangers gathered at the mouth of his alley a look, frowing. He makes a note to check up on Lo Ken, see why his protection's not cleaning up the filth. Then again, he could use some target practice, might be these guys would serve well. With half a mind to go retrieve his Ares Alpha, he almost misses spotting the card perched on the metal step to his RV. Immortal grunts, and pick the card up. Taking a drag from his cigarillo he flips the card over, examining the adress.

He ignores the chirp of the Bison's proximity alarm for a moment, then palms the release. Pushing the door on open, he steps inside and heads to his telecom. Dialing the number for his Fixer, Marcus, he cracks open a beer, and sits in the bench seat across from the unit. When Marcus answers, he exhales a long plume of smoke, and holds up the card.

`You authorize someone to drop this off at my place?`

He's not too happy, first the gangers outside, then someone right up on his doorstep. Lo's definitly going to hear about this.

[Grey]

@Buddha72
The Suit's voice comes through crisp, yet hollow. Rather disturbing really.

"No. I haven't sent anything your way in a while."

His voice is almost questioning without coming right out with it. You're working for someone else now, aren't you?

[Grey]

@Immortal
Marcus is just as happy to see you as he always is... not very.

"Nope. I only come to you for those... special jobs. And I ain't had any drek like that come down the pipes for a while."

[Digital Heroin]

Immortal takes a moment, and another drag, dropping the card on the scanner next to the video display of the telcom.

`The adress mean anything to you. Yeah I know it's a steakhouse, but anyone of note own or frequent it?`

[Grey]

"Not that I know. I've never been there, its a little too... classy for the likes of me, eh?"

[Buddha72]

"Then I am confused. I have a paper that tells me to meet at a food place. I would like to pay you nuyen to find out who sent this paper, maybe? I can pay 500 right now." Her tone is one of complete disclosure.

[Grey]

"I'll put my ear to the ground and see what I can come up with. Save your money for now, madam. Pay me when I do something that is worth it."

[Digital Heroin]

Immortal can't help but laugh.

`Hell, I should fit right in then. I'll keep in touch, let you know if anything interesting comes my way.`

He gives a nod, and stabs the telecom off. Next call is to the noodle house Lo Ken works out of, for appearance sake.

[Grey]

The line picks up and Lo Ken's smooth, calm voice comes through, "Immortal... my friend... how are things with you?"

[Digital Heroin]

`Things are fine, except for the street trash hanging out at the mouth of my alley. Think maybe you could arange for someone to have a chat with them? My trigger finger's getting a little itchy.`

He takes a drag off of the cigarillo, and places his Savalette Guarding upon the table, as if to highlight the fact.

[Grey]

"That is what you pay me for, no? It will be taken care of."

The phone line goes dead.

[Digital Heroin]

Immortal can't help but grin. He turns the telcom off, and places the card next to the Guardian. Heading into the back of the RV, he grabs a quick shower, not bothering to shave. Meet's later in the night, so he's got a few hours. Quick stop by the gun show to talk to Jimmy V, then he'll head there. With that in mind he dons his best jeans, and his leather jacket. No need for much more at a steak house. Holstering the Guardian, he re-locks the RV. As he passes he tips the gangers a friendly, knowing smile, and he heads for the bus.

[Dashifen]

Father is surprised to see the small, white card taped to the outside of his apartment. He raises an eyebrow, wondering what it could be about. Entering his apartment, he looks around. Empty food boxes make small pile next to the already overflowing trash can. Sighing, he slides the card into the back pocket of his jeans and promptly forgets about it as he takes out the trash.

Finishing his overdue chores, he pulls out his deck with loving care. Pulling the cords out of the deck and connecting himself to it, he begins to go through the video feeds that he extracted the previous day. Lots of tape with little substance, until some guy comes into view with another woman. Jacking out for a moment, he turns to a photograph on the table next to him. Yup -- that's the guy, but that's not the woman. Cutting the video around the important bits, he burns it to an optical chip and sets it asside to send it to his "employer." To no one in particular he says out loud, "If this meet tomorrow is nothing more than a good meal for a bad job, I'm moving." Pausing for a moment he continues, "And this time I mean it."

[Blitz]

:: Approaching her quaint cottage with several bags of groceries balance precariously in her arms, she glances at the stark white card sitting on the doorstep. With a thought, the small note floats up and drops into the open bag as her keycard lifts out of her baggy pockets and swipes itself in the slot. Her deep tenor voice calls out to the door, "The quick brown fox jumped over the
lazy dog." and the door swings open. ::

:: Heading into the kitchen, she sets the bags on the counter and smiles at the little hearth spirit that apparantly decided to play maid. The small blue creature, with one purple eye on it's forhead smiled as it elongated it's neck like an animated playdoh figure enough to peak in the grocery bags. ::

:: Without a second thought, Silk opened the fridge and held out her hand. One by one, the items were gently handed to her as she stocked the fridge, freezer and pantry with the various bits of food. Once that was settled, she picks up the card and raises an eyebrow. Heading to her computer terminal, she logs onto her secure server and sends a brief message to Madam Broussard about a few various issues and checks her mail before logging out. Heading to her overstuffed armchair, she triggers her stereo to begin playing the peaceful soft melodies that comprise her favorite compilation. ::

:: Her legs folded beneath her indian style, she holds the card in both hands and closes her eyes as she opens her mind to whatever impressions were left by one who left it behind. ::

[Shadow]

The guard behind the desk smiled as Erik walked in. It had been a few weeks since he had been home and he was glad for it. He looked good, dressed in a expensive Armani suit and a silk Chinese tie. His long silver hair was pulled back and fell in a simple black clasp. "Hey, Sam, how's the wife." the man smiled, Erik tried hard to let the different door guards know that he cared about them.
"Good Mr. Barnes, very good. A young lady was here to see you when you left, I let her up to your room, I hope you don't mind. " A cold flash swept through the night elf's system. He hid it well though, and smiled back to the guard, "as long as you made sure she only left a message, then yeah."

The elevator ride up was tense, as far he knew no one in the shadows knew of this apartment. And if they could find him here, they could find his sister. The card stood out on the dark wood paneling of the door. Erik let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. A job. It was a job offer. He keyed the door open and went inside, he dropped the card down on the desk. He fired up his computer and had it run a report on his security. Most systems were infallible, cameras could be fooled by invisibility, motion detectors the same. The one thing that (so far) could always tell if someone had been in his apartment, was air pressure. He had expensive equipment monitor the air pressure inside his apartment. If a door or window were opened, the air pressure would change, and he would no. Luckily it looked clean.

For an hour he sat on the couch flipping the card over in one hand, pondering the implications. He would have to go, he would need at the very least to know who had penetrated his very elaborate cover. His fingers punched up his contact list on the trid, he placed several calls to dead drops. Virus can at the very least look into this, at the most maybe he can tell me a little something about my ‘guest’. He fed the buildings sim-recording into the dead drop along with his message.

“Tell me what you can omae.”