IC: SRM04-00: Back in Business, IC thread for Back in Business Options

[Slacker]

"Life....life goes....on?" The words falter on Max's lips, but the genuine empathy in Mr. White's voice cut through his sleep deprived mind. But...but how can I go on? Without Lisa? She was my everything. I gave her my heart, my body, my soul! He wales.

"Believe me. I know how much drek like that can hurt. But you can't let her actions turn you into a monster. You can't become the same as her. Right now, that is exactly what you are doing. You are becoming as bad, worse even, than she is? Is that really what you want? Come on. You don't really want to hurt these people do you? You just want to stop your own pain." answers Mr. White in a calm voice.

"She hurt me soooo much. And with Jimmy of all people. I've known him since grade school...." Max Duggan's words begin to slur together as his grip on the girl's hair loosens. Slowly he lowers the barrel of the gun towards the floor as Mr. White continues to empathize with him.

Meanwhile, Gardner has quietly gotten up from his seat and gently walks over to pull the girl away. "Come now fellow. It's all over. Let me take this girl from you. Let me take that heavy hunk of metal out of your hand." Max slowly nods and lets Gardner pull the girl away to safety and take the weapon away from him.

With the situation defused, it's amazing how quickly the rest of the club calms down. After a minute or so a pair of well dressed guards arrive to take Max away and to see to the injured boyfriend.

In a voice that fills the entire club without being loud or needing the aid of electronics, the thin man once more takes the stage."Sorry about that folks. I guess we had one too many scoundrels in the house. But it's all been taken care," he nods appreciatively towards the shadowrunners."And now its time for what you've all been waiting for. The one, the only Maria MERCURIAL"

With this last word, Maria struts her way out onto the stage with a blast of AR glyphs and the opening bars to her classic hit that made her a star all those years ago, Take it to Mister. It sounds just as great today as it did back in '48.

Once, long ago, when troubles came your way
You couldn’t take them on yourself,
But you knew just what to do,
To fi nd someone who would help.
When they burn out the farm,
Or ravish your sister,
You put your hat in your hand
And take it to Mister,
Take it to Mister
Then, as they will, all these things changed their way.
The ones who guarded you proved false.
The lord, the patron, the grand seigneur,
Helped themselves and no one else.
So they ravished the land
And whored with your sister,
They made you rip out your pride
And take it to Mister.
Now, we have learned there is another way.
To face the future for ourselves,
We all know what we must do.
If you want to take back what they stole
Feed the rage in your heart
Till it’s ready to blister.
Now put your gun in your hand
And TAKE IT TO MISTER!

The crowd goes wild, needing the release after the tension and panic. Dancing with even more energy and passion, trying to chase away the memory of what just happened. Seattle's nightlife knows how to move past when the violence of the sixth world catches up to them.
Mercurial plays a two hour show before wrapping up. Several up and coming bands go on after her, but it’s clear that a lot of the patrons consider the concert over. Cindy returns and offers to escort you all down and into the backstage area, where MacCallister is waiting in a small meeting room.

[Slacker]

Cindy leads you into the backstage area, past a couple of large and obviously chromed bodyguards who stand guard. Near the ceiling you see a small Japanese boy fl oating and translucent, obviously a manifested spirit of some kind. Security is tight, but that’s not surprising considering the superstar in attendance. Down the hall you can see MacCallister talking with Mercurial. He smiles and nods to her, then heads toward your group.
“Hoi chummers!” He calls out. “Thanks for the quick assist with that Duggan character. Much appreciated. If you'll follow me we can get down to business. He motions to a door to your right. Inside is a small room with a table and a handful of chairs around it. It’s a tight squeeze, but you manage to get the entire group inside and sit down. Once the door is closed, the roar of the music and crowd cuts off thanks to soundproof walls.

MacCallister is an older ork, appearing to be in his late 40s. He’s wearing an old, well worn, and oft -patched armored leather jacket, a faded Mercurial t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. Strapped to his left arm is something that looks like a keyboard, a 2050s era cyberdeck, the precursor to the commlink. He doesn’t look much like your average fi xer, but rather looks like a tough old shadowrunner. MacCallister peppers his speech with 2050s era street slang.

Once, everybody is settled around the table. He explains that he needs some runners to fi nd a woman who’s gone missing. He doesn’t have much information for them to go on. Her name is Fiona Craig, she’s an archeologist who just arrived in Seattle last night on a fl ight from Greece, she doesn’t live in Seattle, and she vanished, missing a couple of meetings she was supposed to have today. His employer wants her found ASAP.

[Dak]

Mr. White grimaces as the gunman is led away. "Perhaps we should suggest that the plug in those MAD scanners. If Romeo managed to get a pistol in, I can only assume that you're carrying a missile launcher." he says to Gardner.

He follows Cindy to the backstage area, and offers his hand and a card to MacCallister.

While listening to MacCallister, he produces a stylus and takes some notes on his comlink.

Once he is finished speaking, Mr White peppers him with questions, looking for any helpful bits of information that he might have.

"It would be helpful if we could get a photo of Ms. Craig. You said that she arrived last night from Greece, and missed some appointments this morning? Does she know anyone in the city? What was the nature of her business while here? Is there any information about her whereabouts since she arrived, or did she vanish in a puff from the airport terminal - take a taxi from the airport? Had a hotel room booked somewhere?"

[Kiirnodel]

With the situation defused, Gardner tends to the innocents as best he can, but is also happy to have someone come and take things out of his hands.

Once the concert starts it takes him a bit to get into the emotion, but after a song or two he seems to loosen up a bit, he starts to tap his foot. Keeping his emotions restrained particularly when it comes to physical motion seems to be a pretty well ingrained trait for him.

Once the concerts over he'll gratefully follow Cindy to the back room to meet MacCallister. He keeps a wary eye on the manifesting spirit, but lets any suspicion fade as he goes into the meeting room. For the sake of everyone, he enters the room last and just takes a knee near the door.

When things go down to business, Gardner listens carefully, but is surprised by the lack of concrete information.
"I don't know Mac, without more intel, there's no telling what sort of drek she could have gotten into... " Gardner seems genuinely concerned, "I'd really like to help you, but it's definitely going to be a little tough to find this Fiona outta thin air. You don't have anything else of hers maybe? Even a more current photo would help..."

[Slacker]

MacCallister thanks you all for your time. And escorts you back out to the club proper saying, "Guess I'll let you get to it then.

Already chatting about ideas on what your first steps should be, the group heads over to the coat check to gather any checked items. The clerk is quite courteous and quickly returns with your gear. During the minimal wait time, you do catch wind of something that happened while you were in your meeting with MacCallister. It seems some go-gangers just did a drive by in front of the building. DocWagon is already on the scene treating a number of injuries though thankfully no deaths.

Is it just you or is everyday life just getting worse these days? You might expect this kind of thing in the Barrens, but it seems a bit much that one nightclub in Puyallup has had two violent actions in as many hours. It's sad really. Good thing all of you know how to handle yourselves...

Hoping that this isn't all a bad sign for the job you step outside of the Underworld into the muggy Seattle night. Armed with little more than a name, you leave the crowd and music behind you. Your ears ring in the relative silence of the city night. As you begin to discuss your next steps, you see a well dressed, dark-skinned dwarf casually strolling toward you. When he's about 7 meters away, he stops, holds out his hands, palms out toward your group.

Peace, friends He says with a trace of a Quebecois accent. "I have a job offer for you."

[Forces In Motion]

Wednesday, 2202 hours, Underworld 93
Custom Commlink: Hidden | SIN: Jerry Hobbes

He kept his hand on the SuperSquirt as the others defused the situation, not taking it off until the gun was taken away from the lunatic with the pistol. Personally, he was just as glad not to have had to use it - those DMSO/Narcojet capsule rounds weren't cheap, and he somehow doubted that the security in the club would take the fact that he had used his chair to smuggle in a weapon of his own very well.

But he was still pissed about his shirt.

As soon as it was over, though, he took his hand off the SuperSquirt and slid the compartment closed, right before security showed up to take the dude away and see to the other victims of the insanity, and shortly thereafter Maria Mercurial took the stage.

That guy, Domingo, had a point. Mercurial wasn't JetBlack by any means, but when the woman was on point, it was always a damn fine show. A free concert and a paying job all in one evening - it didn't get much better.

The rest of the evening passed smoothly - thankfully. He was just waiting for some nutjob to spring out of nowhere to try to attack Mercurial backstage or something.

He let the others suss out the details as he listened, recording the entire proceedings for later review. The lack of information didn't surprise him, really - hell, it would have been suspect if there had been more to go on. If there had been, he and the others wouldn't be needed.

You're getting old and jaded, Hobbes, he thought ruefully. At least you're not getting too overly paranoid. Yet.

He'd definitely decided he could grow to like having the suit around, though. That man could probably talk his way out of a deal with Lucifer, and make the Devil himself think he came out ahead in the process. Sure, it was only an extra 500, but that was 500 he didn't have before.

As they went out to the street, he noted the DocWagons around the club and more than a few injured folks. Gotta start keeping a better eye on the scanner. Not that there was much that could be done. At least no one was seriously hurt, though.

He navigated his chair to a spot that was more or less out of the way of the DocWagons and their personnel, waiting on the others to retrieve their gear and come outside, watching the injured being tended to, remembering when this was the sort of scene - years ago - that he would have been on, when he still worked for the Star.

When he still had the use of his legs.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Hobbes. At least you're not totally useless, and besides, this business pays better.

He wheeled over to the others as they emerged from the club, and was just about to suggest they find someplace more private to figure out who was doing what, when the dwarf with his Canadian accent showed up to offer them a job. He kept his instinctive shudder inward - he couldn't stand that accent - and swiveled his chair around to face the man.

"A job, huh? I'm not saying I'm not interested - depending on what kind of work we're talking about, here - but, uh, you always just offer work to some random Joe Blows you run into on the street?"

[Kiirnodel]

"Peace, huh?" The Giant plants his staff and leans heavily upon it. His great height affording him the ability to look down upon the dwarf even at this distance. "A novel concept... But until then, what sort of business are we talking?"

Gardner gives a slight smile, but remains wary and ready, not fully trusting the situation.

[Dak]

Mr. White chuckles his agreement with Legs, after the small group is approached on the street by the dwarf.

"Who stuck a 'Looking for work' sign on my back?"

He turns to the dwarf. "Perhaps you can tell us more about this job offer." Mr. White glances at the chaos in front of the club, and the busy street. "But right here on the sidewalk is hardly the place. I believe there is a small cafe that offers a bit of privacy just down the block."

[Dak]

oops, doublepost.

[Slacker]

Taking the group's words for accent for him to approach."No need for that, Friend. This will only take a moment." As the dwarf approaches a slick twist of the wrist brings out a business card which he presents to Mr. White. For those with AR turned on, the card has the blazing emblem of the Atlantean Foundation floating above it. The card itself identifies him as one Laurent Nazair, Executive VP of Operations, Atlantean Foundation - Seattle Office. A commlink code as well as business addres are listed too.

"It has come to my ears that the five of you have an interest that tangental to my own. I'm looking for a certain item last known to be in the hands of a woman that you may have heard of...Ms. Fiona Craig. I have no interest in her myself, but I am very interested in obtaining a certain shard of obsidian she has. We had a meeting planned for earlier today, but alas that was not to be. If you happen to come across this item in your current pursuits. I would be very appreciative of it."

He offers you each 2,000 nuyen for the obsidian shard should you bring it to him.

[Dak]

"You have very keen ears, friend." says Mr. White, taking the card and handing one of his own to Mr. Nazair.

"Provided this does not conflict with our present task, I think we might be able to accommodate you. Is there anything that we should know about this chunk of rock that you're are so interested in? Certainly it must be somewhat special if you're willing to pay ten thousand nuyen to have it."

"Regardless, we can at least consider your offer."

[Slacker]

"I see no reason why this task would interfere with your current endeavor. I understand your employer only has interest in Ms. Craigs safety. I doubt this trinket was even mentioned in your dealings, was it? As to the exact nature of the obsidian, I can't say. Ms. Craig had the idea that the Foundation would be interested in studying it. Thus the meeting we had scheduled this afternoon. Since she failed to show, we have yet to take a look at it. And so I ask you capable men for some assistance. Do we have a deal?

[Dak]

Mr. White waits for the input of his associates, but offers "Then I assume that this obsidian requires no special handling or precautions. As I said, provided it does not conflict with our current task, I believe that we are in agreement. It is worth noting that when I order a pizza, and agree to pay twenty nuyen for it, I assume that it will not arrive with a bite taken out of it. I would likely not pay twenty nuyen for such a pizza. Thus, if we are able to retrieve this item for you and it has negative impact on our other arrangement, I trust we can rely on you to provide adequate compensation."

[ChromeZephyr]

Wednesday, 7:22; Underworld 93
Hermes Ikon: Hidden | SIN Ivan Mozhayev

Nikolai gives the security staff a baleful look as they escort the shooter away, and nods with Mr. White's opinion of the scanners as he turns his reflexes back to inactive.

Wednesday, 9:30; Underworld 93
Hermes Ikon: Hidden | SIN Ivan Mozhayev

Backstage, he gives an appraising look to the cybered problem-solvers, then grimaces as the spirit's eyes turn red and it glares at him as he walks underneath it. The mundane security either doesn't notice it or is being instructed to let him pass, as they ignore it. He takes his seat in the room and simply listens to the negotiations. Paid to shoot, not to talk. Just as it was back in the Rodina. The job requirements and pay amount is agreed upon, and the new team exits the club.

Wednesday, 10:02; Underworld 93
Hermes Ikon: Hidden | SIN Ivan Mozhayev

Perhaps Mishka should have come along, Nikolai thinks as he exits the club and sees DocWagon putting people on stretchers into vehicles. While he knew that Puyallup was as violent a locale as some of the shitholes he and his company had blown through, he had expected a certain amount of respect for Underworld 93. When the dwarf approached them with a further offer of employment, his eyes narrowed. People are talking that shouldn't be, for this man to know of our business already.

"Trinkets do not cost ¥10,000 paid through black channels from people interested in Atlantis." Nikolai looks at Mr. White. "This man I think plays us for fools."

[Kiirnodel]

Still leaning upon his staff in a seemingly casual manner, Gardner listens to what the dwarf has to say. He has been in this sort of situation before, and he seems completely unfazed when Corp Exec seems to know their biz.

With Nikolai's comment, he raises one hand as he looks back at the Russian, alarmed. Then he recovers his composure and reaches down to rest his hand on Mr. White's shoulder, "I think for now we can take Mr. ... Nazaire's offer in good faith. We can assess the situation best when we have everything in hand."

Having needed to look over Mr. White's shoulder at the card to confirm the man's name, Gardner looks back up at the dwarf before he continues, "You wouldn't happen to have a picture of this shard, perhaps even one assuring that Ms. Craig truly possesses it?"

[Dak]

Mr. White looks at the picture of the rock, and weighs the words of the dwarf.

He confers with this associates, and unless there is objection, he tells the dwarf, "Very well. We will work to get this piece of obsidian to you."

[Slacker]

"Merci. I trust this task will be of little trouble to the likes of you gentlemen. I look forward to your call. Adieu." With that Laurent gives you all a slight bow and leaves to a car waiting a short distance away.

[Forces In Motion]

Wednesday, 2208 hours, Underworld 93
Custom Commlink: Hidden | SIN: Jerry Hobbes

So that was two job offers in a night? Who was this woman, and why did everyone want her - or what she had - so badly?

Not that he was complaining - two jobs, inter-related, in one night, and 5500 upon completion for the both of them? Not bad at all - that would pay for a few months rent with change left to spare. It was an effort for him to not shoot a look at the big Russian and tell him to shut his pie-hole, but he managed it.

As the dwarf walked off, he looked around at the others, a grin spreading over his features. "Well, my new associates, it looks like we have some work to do."

He took a moment to access his commlink's AR interface, sending off a message to his contact with Lone Star to see if she could dig up any info on this girl Fiona, then accessing the RoadMaster's command interface via the Matrix to instruct it to pull itself around to the front of the building. The crowd looked like it had thinned out enough that it should be able to get in without too much trouble.

It didn't take long for the message from Erin to come back. <<Never heard of this chick. Is she cute?>>

He grinned to himself, shaking his head. You'd think jealousy wouldn't be a factor...last time we hopped into bed was at least six months ago. So much for keeping it casual.

He shot off a return message. <<She's alright, but she ain't got nothing on you, sweetheart. Besides, it's business, not personal. But thanks for trying, anyway.>>

By the time he sent the message, he could hear the distinctive rumble of the transport's diesel, and he looked around just in time to see the RoadMaster come to a sedate halt nearby. Looking around at the others, he flashed them another grin.

"So, who needs a ride? I think I got room for everyone..." He looked towards Gardner with a doubtful expression. "...but you might have to sit in the cargo area. I'm not sure my seats can take your weight, big guy."

[Kiirnodel]

Gardner smirks as he walks up to the back door of truck. "That'll be just fine, thanks. I appreciate the ride," he opens the door, "and the wider doors."

Gardner climbs into the transport careful to put his weight on slowly and then move up so that he is between the axles if he can. He tries to get comfortable while still being close to the other passengers.

[ChromeZephyr]

Wednesday, 10:10pm, outside Underworld 93
Hermes Ikon: Hidden | SIN Ivan Mozhayev

Nikolai nods approvingly as the mechanical behemoth rolls up. "No flash, all business. Like what Spetzgruppa Alfa uses back home." He looks at Legs. "I could use a ride, I am tired of autocabs."

He takes a seat in the Roadmaster after Gardner gets in, and uses the time as everyone gets situated to reconnect to the Viper's smartlink. A small smile touches the corner of his lips as the familiar warmth spreads from the concealed holster and the ammunition and barrel integrity information springs into his vision. He dismisses the targeting reticle for the time being, then opens an AR window and fires off an e-mail to Ms.Ching.

<< @Ms.Ching: Thank you for sending this work my way, I have taken the job and am hoping you have might have more information than my employer has. I am supposed to find one Fiona Craig, an archaeologist recently working in Greece who has disappeared before meeting a client here in Seattle. Has anything on her passed through your attention recently? >>

[taeksosin]

Wednesday, 10:10pm, outside Underworld 93
Custom Commlink: Hidden | SIN: Ricardo L. Corinthian
CMT-Clip: Passive | SIN: Domingo Alvarez

The concert was classic Mercurial, aka a damn fine show in Quixote's opinion. The job offer seemed like the norm from his point of view. Johnsons who had all the details rarely needed a runner, and if they did it was because they were probably looking to set up a double cross. The "chance" meeting with the dwarf was fortuitous, but it definitely raised the hair on Quixote's neck a bit. Gonna have to watch that one I think. Retrieving an unknown object of unknown value for a person who was told by another person they might be interested in it...something smells fishy. But a nuyen's a nuyen I guess.

As the Roadmaster pulls up, Quixote grins and remarks, "Sure beats walking, that thing. And, y'know Legs, one of these days you should let me take a look at your ride there. Might be able to set up a hidden catapult arm for your chair there or something and send you flying through the air in an expeditious fashion to get away from anything chasing you that's about taken the Roadmaster out. And then if we added gecko-grip tires to it, and maybe a few rockets..." When the doors open, Quixote gives the interior a quick look before deciding on taking the passenger seat up front. It looked the most comfortable, and more importantly, it allowed him to give a running commentary to the fellow tech-head sitting next to him. Even if he preferred to view the world from a drone, all good riggers had a little bit of a wannabe hacker inside of them.

"Alright, so, I'm thinking that while you're driving us over to Sea-Tac, I'm gonna go ahead and start trying to worm my way into their systems and see if I can get us some leads to work with before we get there. Save White back there," he waves his hand in reference to the fast-talking human, "from having to walk the whole damn airport looking for people that might know something. So...let's see..." even with the DNI that just needs mental commands to make things happen, Quixote's hands still move through the air in front of his face as he loads up his usual forceful entry toolbox and starts flicking through menus with an inhuman quickness. "Analyze...browse...disarm for the pesky system programs...decrypt and encrypt just in case...and of course exploit and her best friend the lovely lady stealth. That should do the trick for now, and I can load Mr. Edit up later on if I need to fuzz the cameras at the airport." Menus collapsing to the sides of his vision, Quixote logs into the Sea-Tac node and looks around. Huh, not as hard to get into as I would've thought it might be, though this is more of an entry area I guess. I'm sure if I wanted to try and book a ticket somewhere nice, things would start getting a lot less nice real fast.

"Ugh, you should see this place Legs. All clean and white and spotless...some dumb wage-slaves vision of what the perfect airport is, I'd bet. Shame, I rather like the real thing a lot more. If I get the chance, might have to engage in a little re-sculpting for them before I log out for good. Business first, I know, and it's kind of a little kid trick, but still...you just gotta see it, it's awful. But...wow. Hot stewardess. I might have to meet the guy that did this node after all and compare notes with him, he definitely has the jiggle factor nailed. Of course you can be of service to me lil' lady, let me just make sure you recognize me for the VIP that I am and...yeah, that's right, smile that big smile for me. And now...let's just get rid of any pesky system analyzing on me for good measure...huh. Think she felt that, not looking quite so friendly anymore. Guess I'd better check for an alert real quick..." Hands moving with a lazy grace, Quixote manipulates something in his vision and waits for the results.

"Damn, looks like she is suspicious. Okay then, time to load up Mr. Edit and see if he can tickle her back into submission and...FRAG! Stupid lucky fragging node, it jumped then when I loaded edit and is sending IC at me. Fine, you wanna play, let's play slitch..."

[Dak]

Wednesday, 22:11 hours, Underworld 93
Elektra Elite : Hidden | SIN: Harvey White


Mr. White climbs into the Roadmaster with a thanks to its owner. Once inside, he settles into a seat and fastens the safety harness. He flips open his commlink and browses through the digital rolodex. He rides quietly as Quixote does his work in the matrix, while considering various avenues to search.

[taeksosin]

Wednesday, 10:11pm, inside the Legs-mobile
Custom Commlink: Hidden | SIN: Ricardo L. Corinthian
CMT-Clip: Passive | SIN: Domingo Alvarez

Quixote breathes a sigh of relief through his nose as he watches the incompetent pilot IC hit first the node itself, and then the connection to the system's other nodes with his trace. Gonna have to fuzz the logs for sure after that, and I wanna know what the frag his trace was loaded with because that's the damned oddest thing I've ever seen... After the pilot decides to leave him alone, Quixote grins as he has the lovely stewardess track down the information on Fiona for him. Pleased with himself, he downloads a copy of her passport to his link and calls over his shoulder, "Hey boys, got a recent pic and confirmation that she did arrive on time with her flight. Thinking I might go poking into their security node to see if I can get some footage or something. Or I can try checking the cabs and rental car companies for any trace of her commlink or SIN. Thoughts?"

[Kiirnodel]

Gardner leans over the back seat to glance over Domingo's shoulder, "I can't think of anything we'd need from the airport, unless she never left it. The cab company, or however she left would have a better idea of where she was headed, right?" Gardner reaches over with a massive hand and makes a grasping motion, "you mind if I get a look at that newer picture? I might be able to ask the spirits help us find her once we have a better idea where we should start looking. And a newer picture might make it simpler, you'd be surprised how much even a haircut can confuse some magics."

[ChromeZephyr]

Wednesday, 10:11pm, in Legs' Roadmaster
Hermes Ikon: Hidden | SIN Ivan Mozhayev

<< @TundraWolf [Ms.Ching]: Perhaps a call to the local transportation providers would aid you in your search? *laugh* Very little doesn't pass through my attention, but I confess that Ms. Craig has not. Though I know someone who possibly would know more, if my (discounted for good past work) finder's fee is met. >>

Nikolai cocks his head a little as he listens to Quixote's play-by-play. Jiggle factor? Note to self: research this later.

"Hacking an international aiport's security...is this necessary? With her SIN, the cab companies might be less likely to bring down heavy fire on us."

<< @Ms.Ching: Of course, nothing worthwhile is ever free. [fund transfer: ¥250, authorization •••••-•-••] >>