Post or Die ...More Options

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:07 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

Zo chuckles "Only if a minigun comes wit it--if Iz need that much ammo, I think we'z done slotted up. 1,000 rounds should be enough for my AK. Another 500 for my pistols would be good too. Got enough grenades for now thanks ta da gouls. We'd also need some lockpickers, maglock passkeys an dat sort of stuff. A decker would be good too--Havent heard from Ferret since da run went south." Briefly Zo shakes his head while looking down one the ground, his eyes closed. "Don't think he made it, we'd heard from em by now."

"We'z also gonna need some back-up sins. Especially you, Prof. You got a big drek slotting bullseye on yer forhead, so layin a bit low might be a good idea."

[Glyph]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:07 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

Void, seemingly half there and half putting together his own mental list, mutters agreement "Yes, yes, definitely APDS. Or some AV rounds, even better. And SINs, yes, don't need them in the Barrens, no no, but keep the options open, yes."

His fingers twitch slightly to accompany his distracted mumblings. He suddenly remembers to blink, doing so several times rapidly.

Of course, laying low will always be a problem for me. If things get too bad, I might wind up back in that wretched Glow City place, or somewhere even worse...but there's no use railing against fate.

[Sephiroth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:07 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

Jovan's voice is heard sputtering slightly for a few more seconds. The name Nietzsche is heard venomously several times. Void gets a sense from a couple curses and phrases uttered in Or'zet under Jovan's breath that Jovan has had particularly passionate disagreements with the German philosopher's nihilist ideas in the past, though the actual details are not mentioned. Eventually, however, the magician's composure returns with a heavy degree of irritation.

<<I will get back to you soon regarding material requests, Professor. I will be staying here for a little while longer. I have some business to attend to here, and some things of Oswald's that I would like to look at in more detail.>>

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:07 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

<<No problem, Jovan. Take care. None of us knows what surprises the old boy set up here.>>

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:07 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

Zo looks at Void, "Chummer, even sins in da barrens iz useful, especially when KE starts kickin in heads. Dey don't like us trogs anymore dan humanis, but if ya gotz a sin dey gotta follow some rulez or da MOM's get all slotted up an start filin lawsuits for police brutality. "


At that Zo heads out the door to his bike, gets on it and heads to the Redmond Barrens, his home. He makes a mental note to stay on the highways and blend in until he gets to Redmond proper when he leaves the main roads and heads up on the back roads in Crush territory.

[Glyph]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:08 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

Void doesn't reply to the other ork, although the other ork doesn't seem to be expecting one, anyways. Void follows soon afterwards, although it is to walk a few blocks before getting into an auto-taxi cab, a bit of an exorbitant expense for him normally, but hell, he's just been promised a 100k advance. He might add a set of wheels to his personal wish list. Few amenities or luxuries spend a lot of time in his thoughts, though. Right now, he is more concerned about investing enough of this windfall to stay alive for future ones.

Playing by the rules... has KE ever played by the rules? All a fake SIN does is give you a discount on the bribe you have to pay them. Better to save the cred and shoot them. The best response to brutality is more brutality, and getting your shots in before they take theirs.

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club

Zo pulls up in to the TDO night club, its neon sign half lit, and ARO's for extra services abound. A wage slave sees Zo pull up, and averts his eyes as if to avoid confronting him and quickly ducks inside. He heads towards the door, nodding to some of his fellow gangers who are protecting the entrance. KD is one of them. She's one of the gangs humans, with a cyberarm and a built in shotgun.

It has been an interesting week. Am I really doin this? Goin from ganger ta runner. Drek, iz there a slotting difference--can I continue ta do both? Dey both do jobs that the law don't like us to do. But runnin is a drekload more profitable.

"Hoi KD."

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club

KD pushes herself forward from her lean on the doorframe. "Hoi, Zo-boy. What's with the disappearing act? Got sumpin' on the side you ain't tellin'?"

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club

Zo casually walks up to KD. "KD, ya know me. I always gotz somethin on the side. Was at da slot'house last night waitin ta offload some lost items. Smidge said everythin wuz covered. Serious drek hit the fan an we had a blackout from partyin too hard. Fraggers slotted Ferret, you know the Dwarf that Throgg hung out wit. I gots some payin back to do for that one. No one frags with a friend of the Crush an get away wit it--especially when I can get paid ta do it. Hey if ya want, meet me at da Loose cannon later an we do some target practice--no buckshot this time. Drinks are on me."

Not sure if she caught the meaning of the word "blackout". But the drek that happened has been on the local pirate trid feeds most of the day. Well da normal ones mentioned da blackout, but not the explosions of military grade hardware. Can't let da breeders know that some random group just flew three attack helicopters in to the plex--mees up der sleep patterns.

[Glyph]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:05 PM, Void's apartment, outskirts of Loveland

Void gets out of the autocab a few blocks away from his apartment. He turns his collar up to the damp chill as he walks through a neighborhood that is less derelict only because Loveland is dressed up to hustle a bit of money from slumming suits and tourists. He is more alert than he seems, the ingrained habit of a dangerous life, but he knows most of the predators here are smart enough to shy away from dangerous prey like him.

He meticulously unlocks the multiple locks on his apartment door, after checking a few subtler indicators to make sure no one has been in the place. Again, the habits of his days as an enforcer, living the high life but always keeping an eye out for danger. At the moment, he is likely far below the radar of any underworld factions. All of which might change soon...

The place is small, but clean, not that cleaning is that much of a chore for the rather Spartanly furnished area. He nudges his household drone, which has gotten stuck in the corner again, and it putters around again. He finds the motion vaguely soothing, making the place look slightly less empty. Normally, this sterile place is soothing to him, but at the moment, the walls seem to close in on him slightly. He is bone tired, but still fidgety with tension. He sends a quick message to Mick, to update him on the bounty.

<Mick. Target has not been located. I am working another job with the remaining members of the group that was being targeted by him, so perhaps another opportunity will present itself. If so, you will still get your percentage. I will be in touch. Void.>

After that terse missive, he carefully settles onto his futon in a lotus position, and tries meditating. Thoughts of his "wish list" intrude, but eventually he is able to calm his mind.

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:05 PM, Void's apartment, outskirts of Loveland

<<Void: Understood. Disappointing. Mick.>>

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club

While wating for KD's response to his offer, Zo sends a quick message to Professor via the VPN.

<Prof---Here's da wish list-disposable commlinks--1 per crew, 1 autopicker, 1 maglock passkey, 4 trauma patches, 1,000rds APDS for assault rifles, 1000 rounds apds for heavy pistol ammo, two dozen kilos of C12 with 10 wireless detonators , 1 panther assault cannon w/smartling and 50 rounds of ammo, one missle launcher with 4 AVMs (or for LAWs), 1 stealth suit <see tag for sizes>, 1 Grapple gun, 100 meters of stealth line, 1 catalyst stick, 10 thermal smoke grenades, and 60 rounds of stick an shock light pistol ammo.>

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club

<<Zo: I'll pass this on. Professor.>>

[Sephiroth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:10 PM, Redmond, Touristville, The Joke nightclub

Jovan sits in a booth in the back corner of The Joke nightclub in Redmond, his rifling through Oswald's warehouse for items of use now completed. He is sporting a retro-looking hairdo, brown hair hanging buoyant in a gravity-defying faux-hawk with the spiked tips dyed a typical-looking motley of rainbow; there is now a very short stubble on his face, and his skin is no longer the deathly white that it was a few hours ago. Across from him sits another man of casual dress and darker clothing, with well-styled shoulder-length hair dyed an edgy red, and this man seems noticeably more confident and excited to be here than his companion.

"Oh man oh man oh man, have you seen the show line-up for tonight? Those Yaks sure do know how to pick their sex performers. The Free-Falling Dog Conjoined with Eagle one looks cool - did you watch their teaser clip for that? Oh man oh man, that's some sexy drek right there, I'm telling you! You should give it a try sometime, omae, add a little kink to your tastes." He winks.

"You are repugnant and I am unamused by this place."

"Oh, right. For a moment I had forgotten that you're actually an alien." Zayne smiles jokingly, completely unphased by Jovan's perpetually serious attitude. "Too bad for you, though. It's my turn to pick the place, and I've been itching to try this club out for ages. Not quite as cozy as some of the mock Mos Eisley cantinas that I've been to, which are quite literally the best drek ever, but it'll do." Zayne has an intense love for older science fiction movies and sims, especially all of the nine Star Wars video/trideo films. It would be hard to guess from his current attitude that this man - if Infected can be called such things - has a list of completed contract killings at least two dozen entries long, but then metahuman beings are complex creatures, after all. "And the live sex shows that they have on the menu tonight look awesome. Ooh, ohh! Did you see the clip for-"

"No, I did not, thank you very much. And I still utterly fail to see what on earth you find endearing in those films when some of them are a century old." Jovan rolls his eyes. His voice lowers to a whisper, barely discernible to anyone without hearing augmentation. "Anyway, I recently came across the name of an alchemical compound in my studies, one by the name of Renfield. What do you know of it? Have you used it on anyone before?"

[Glyph]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:35 PM, Void's apartment, outskirts of Loveland

Void relaxes into a meditative state, feeling close to gnosis - or satori, or whatever they call it, when his commlink buzzes - he really needs to change the settings so it makes a less annoying sound one of these days. The original intent was to catch his attention for possibly important missives, but most of the time, it just distracts him with trivialities.

He wonders if it is Mick again, but it is just Loogie.

<Void, dude. You checked out the new Beach Bimbo Bloodbath III yet? Best FPS AR game in a long time. Feels like you're really there, poppin' caps and getting lap dances from tan honeys.>

Void snorts to himself. The last thing he needs to unwind with is a shooter game, even one that apparently mixes in a bit of AR porn. Besides, not having played Beach Bimbo Bloodbath I or II, he would probably be hopelessly lost trying to follow the plot. He sends an innocuous reply back to Loogie. He is tempted to ask the troll hacker about the Blind Man, but from the description, he sounds like something out of Loogie's league, and someone dangerous to make inquiries about.

He sighs, still restless, and unable to relax again.

Ehhhh. I might as well catch the tube to Tacoma, and head down to that "midnight madness" sale Ivan is having. Bargains to be had, yes. Mind you, I think he does it to get the crap he can't sell out of his back room. Sometimes something interesting there, though. And it might be good to see if he has anything I didn't think to put on my wish list - his acumen with regards to modern armaments is deeper than mine.

Voids actually smiles slightly - he used his "word of the day"! Acumen, acumen, acumen!

Sunday, Sept. 14, 2071, 12:25 AM, Ivan's shop, midnight madness sale

The ride to Tacoma is uneventful. People on the tube seem very polite - despite how crowded it is, they seem to take care not to get too close to him. Ivan's shop is unadorned, and there is not even any light visible over the door or through the dark windows - most people would have no idea that this was a shop, and even if they did, they would probably assume it to be closed. Ivan does business strictly though word of mouth - and seemingly quite successfully.

Ivan's full security crew seems present for this event, lounging around visibly but inobtrusively, and almost outnumbering the furtive customers who drift in and out. Void spots Ivan, who is talking to another customer. Ivan is normally taciturn when he is not talking about guns, but he can also gush about his sister, Balalaika, who is apparently a concierge in Moscow, or something. While he waits for a chance to talk to Ivan, he looks around the lethal array of weaponry sitting on cheap folding tables, and the uncharacteristically (for Ivan) gaudy AR displays.

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:08 PM, Oswald's warehouse in Everett

Jovan's search of Oswald's lair soon discovered various caches of armaments, including the grenades he sought. Unfortunately, his careful search also highlighted the defenses the old man had set up... formidable ones meant to vaporize an interloper. His skills in tech are nowhere near those of the old astronaut, and so Jovan chose discretion as valour, and marked locations and descriptions to share with someone more adept at circumventing mechanical and electronic wards. Not Professor. Zo, perhaps?

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:10 PM, Redmond, Touristville, The Joke nightclub

Zayne's unabashed lust for the proceedings on stage, screen and AR escalates, even to the point of (to Jovan) disgusting touchings of self. He perks up at the word "Renfield". He giggles in a parody of laughter, "Hehhhh, hehhhhh, hehhhhh!" Jovan shudders.

Zayne pulls himself away from the entertainment to consider Jovan's request. "Yeah, yeah! I've heard of that stuff. Never used it. Heh, heh, though I bet it could be really useful in some interesting ways!" He glances back at the stage, and leers. "I never got around to looking up the stuff, and to tell you the truth...as I always do ... I worry a little about astral links and the like. You know, putting your own blood into your flesh tools and all that.

"There's a guy in Tacoma I know. Morgan Pertwilling. Yeah, yeah, I know, a Limey right to his toes. But he has magic in his fingers for compounds and potions. Get in touch with him. Use my name and he'll talk to you. Careful about your attitude, though, sweety. He's got a temper and real skill with mana. He should be able to fix you up with a formula if anybody can. Not my cup of tea, though." He squeals with joy at his pun, and brings up an ARO to guide Jovan to Pertwilling's place.

"Now! How about a snack?"

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club

KD, ever the opportunist, takes Zo up on his offer without hesitation. "Hoo! I'm always ready for a brew. Make mine a pitcher an' I'll tell ya about this slummer from Tinsel Town who tried to impress the locals at da Loose Cannon just yesterday."

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 14, 2071, 12:25 AM, Ivan's shop, midnight madness sale

The goods arrayed on the folding tables look pretty ordinary to Void's practiced eye. Automatics, SMGs, pistols of all sorts. Nothing to catch his interest. Looks like it was a waste of time coming here. Then a door at the back, and the heavy pair of guards flanking it catch his attention. A third guard, a troll the size of the other two put together, seems to be the guide into the back room for one customer at a time. One comes out, and nods to Ivan. A sale seems to have been transacted, probably by AR. Ivan tilts his head, giving the all-clear for the customer he is with to go back. He is led through the door.

Ivan sees Void, smiles a sickly-sweet welcome, and glides over. "Void! Void! So good to seeing you! I am having it such a sad time since so long you be away. Come! Come! Telling me what it is you looking for. I have it much, much to sell tonight."

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 10:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--TDO night club
"KD, pitcher of brew? I'm talking a dozen kegs! Ya breeders are lightwights. Be sure ta leave one keg for Throgg, I gots ta tell him about Ferret."

<Hey Edger---transferin 500 nuyen for 12 kegs of Rockgut. I'll be down there in about an hour or so--set one aside for Throgg.>

Zo doesn't wait for KD's response, and walks further into the TDO--the familiar sight of naked trolls, orks, and a few dwarfs dancing on their respective stages for Nuyen. Some of course are headin into the backroom. Mickey waves Zo over.


Mickey "Your favorite halfer, Shiela's in back. She gots half an hour or so before she need to be on stage-so don't make her too late."

"I'll try not to." Zo gives him a slight grin and heads backstage to Shiela's dressing closet.

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--The loose Cannon night club

Zo is 600 nuyen poorer, as he approaches the loose cannon. He left Shiela a good tip tonight for her personal performance--especially since he made her late for her onstage performance. Mickey, of course won't mind, he'll get his percentage either way.

As Zo heads in he yells to the dozen or so fellow crush gangers "PARTY'S ON!" signaling Edger to take out the kegs of recently delivered rotgut and tap them, leaving the stacks of Red cups for the gangers to use. After a few minutes of hanging out and catching up with his fellow gangers he heads over to Throgg who's comendeered one of the kegs.

"Hey THrogg, ya know dat business ya got me into? It paid well enough, even though the job went south a bit. Ferret wuz geeked, at least I think he wuz. Didn't see him after the run, like we should uv. I'm takin it you haven't heard from da halfer either?"

[Glyph]

Sunday, Sept. 14, 2071, 12:25 AM, Ivan's shop, midnight madness sale

Void's face twitches in the hint of a smile, a slight but genuine expression that almost makes him look normal, instead of the twitchy headcase that he is. Ivan may be a bit extravagant and bombastic, but the fearless Russian dwarf is one of the few people who doesn't seem creeped out by the miasma of wrongness that hangs over Void.

"Well, I don't think you'll get me to part with my Walther," he replies, not mentioning which of his Walthers he is talking about, "but I might be looking for something with a bit more stopping power for close-up shooting, like a Franchi SPAS-22, or something similar."

He idly glances towards the back room, sure that the perceptive Russion will pick up the gesture. The pickings up front are nothing notable - maybe a use-and-lose pistol or two that he could get, but nothing special at all. But maybe the other room will boast some more exotic - and dangerous - selections.

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--The loose Cannon night club

Roars of approval greet Zo as the beer starts to flow. KD lifts a glass and shouts, "Zo! A Man of the Crush!" Choruses echo the sentiment.

Throgg scowls at the news about Ferret. He pushes a glass towards Zo and says, "Tell me about it. Who we gotta pay back for it?"

[Warlordtheft]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--The loose Cannon night club
Zo lifts his glass in acknowledgement to the crowd and slugs the drink down his throat, enjoying the heavy bitterness of his beer. He turns back to Throgg.

"Throgg, ya know it was part of some smuggling group run by a fragger who goes by the moniker the blind man. Any wayz, we had just dropped off da shipment of goods dat we recovered no problem. Got our pay, as we were leaving there was some explosion of some sort, da fraggers ambushed us. I'm thinking it waz some merc group, da vipers 12 dat we had dealin with durin the job. But I don't know for surez. I'm orderin some grade A-bang bang for the Crush in case they show up around here lookin for trouble. But I don't think dey will. Anywayz, we were slottting an runnin out in the trucks when the drek really hit the fragging fan. Three choppers like ya seen on desert wars show up. Da rigger on da team, crazy old breeder, let loose one of those EMP's. After that, it was a bit of a blur, we restarted da trucks and got out of der. KE definitely noticed three crashing copters, check da pirate trids for da real newz if ya care. Da daily news brief listed the balckout as mechanical failure from devil rats eatin a wire or somethin an cause a whole city block to burn down."


My colors don't run, but eventually the blind man will find out who I am if I am not careful. Frag me, Thoggs eagerness to avenge Ferret will probably get him and the rest of da crush killed if I'z not too careful. Maybe I shouldn't say anymore. Ah KD will probably say somethin anyway.

"Yeah dis blind man fragger is one da jetset types. Hops all over da globe an drek, I've got chummer will to pay me for da travel an such. He has history wit the guy, so wants him geeked as well. I may not be around much in the next few months until the drek is dealth wit. If one of his breeder sairairiaman comez poking around here, give them an drek kick to the head for me. "

Zo refills up his cup and another one for Thogg an hands it to him.

[Sephiroth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:10 PM, Redmond, Touristville, The Joke nightclub

Jovan catches Zayne's leer towards the stage and raises an eyebrow. "I presume you are thinking of Renfield-addicted sex slave flesh tools. Classy as always," he says dryly. He continues to stare off in the direction of the stage as he listens to his flamboyant - and only real - companion. "You know that I eschew interactions with the greater world which involve a high chance of my status being exposed. It is harder for me to hide among metahumanity than it is for you. But if this Morgan Pertwilling is as good as you say he is, then I will look into it. I also want to hear your thoughts on who to select as a viable target for a flesh tool - but that is not a discussion for in here. The corporate shedim have ears in these walls. Let us save it for after dinner."

11:45 PM, Redmond, Touristville, nearby The Joke nightclub

The kill is made with calculated, smooth efficiency. Zayne sidles up to a pre-selected clubber - a young human woman with neon hair, a gothic look, and a punk attitude - and begins to lay on the seductive charm. At the same time, her equally pretty elven boyfriend finds his attention drawn to another rather attractive elven clubber across the dance floor, as Jovan subtly works the young man's mind from the removed safety of the booth like a maestro works an instrument (at least the nosferatu would think so). Within half an hour, playing off of the woman's feelings after seeing her boyfriend dancing and grinding with another woman, Zayne is able to draw her outside with him for a little vengeful sex. They head out the door of the nightclub and into a nearby alley between buildings for some 'privacy.'

Jovan is careful to magically divert the elven pretty boy's attention back to his girlfriend just in time for him to notice her leaving with the stranger. He follows the two. From a distance, Jovan quietly follows him. Jovan's mouth starts to salivate.

The elf catches up with Zayne and his girlfriend in an alcove nearby, one leading down to the entrance to a masseuse shop - the lights off inside, the door closed and locked up tight for the evening. Zayne is already starting to get a little bestial with the girl, but is careful not to show his true colors just yet - can't have the boy screaming for help. An argument starts. The elf is insulted, angry, and protective of his girl, his machismo greater than one would expect from his appearance. The girl is flustered, angry, and starting to come to her senses. But though a flamboyant wolf Zayne may be, he is also a very experienced wolf. And there is more than one hidden predator in this group, as the magically concealed Jovan approaches from behind to cut off the only escape root. Caught between Jovan's immobilizing compulsions and Zayne's fast, precise strikes, the young couple quickly crumples like paper.

Zayne takes the girl. Out of the corner of his eye, Jovan watches him grow energized, intoxicated even, by the visceral mix of sex and violence as the vampire intimately and ruthlessly feeds on the girl's blood and life energies.

Jovan turns to the elf, who lays frozen on the ground, his body refusing to obey the commands it is receiving from his brain. The elf suddenly finds himself floating up off the ground under the concentrated stare of the nosferatu in front of him, then rotated until he is hanging upside down, their faces mere tens of centimeters apart. Pale hands are brought to his cheeks. The life energies are always the first to go - Jovan likes to start his meals with a strong dose of ecstasy. The nosferatu sees the elf's body heat brighten as muscles start to inflame, but that is no matter - he knows from far too many previous trials that increased heat will not unduly affect the taste of the blood. He revels in the salty taste of the immobilized elf's tears. He smiles inwardly at the elf's powerlessness in his magical grasp even as the elf's nerves continue to scream in pain as their life energies are siphoned away. Some minutes later, Jovan finally tilts his head up and right, lines up the proper angle, and drains the meat body of blood. His taste buds dance at the coppery tang.

They find the nearby sewer entrance that Jovan had selected beforehand, and toss the bodies down into the sewer for the ghouls and the devil rats to feast on, Jovan being slightly more gentle and respectful in doing so - a highly peculiar gesture, seeing as how he had at one point quite literally ritualistically cleansed himself in a shower of the dead elf's blood. They are quiet as they erase as much evidence of their feeding as they can - removing the blood stains from their clothes and the ground and cleansing the area of magical traces - before they set out on their way, both feeling at once both better and more tainted than before.

"To return to what we were discussing earlier. I am weighing the best options for who to select as a first flesh tool. It appears to me that the best choice is to find an Awakened intern somewhere and turn them, the more willing the better. One who is not yet too clever or wise to the darkness of the world, no... not one too powerful or skilled or willful. One who seeks greater knowledge and understanding of the ways of magic and society. It would have to be an Awakened young one, a student of the magical arts - we both know how valued and rare such people are to most industries outside the major thaumaturgical research labs. The chances of someone assensing such an intern would be low, because there would likely be few other Awakened in the organization capable of assensing. And I could teach them how to mask their aura to accentuate the disguise, yes. A Lone Star or Knight Errant intern might be best - it would be ideal if this student was an intern in an Organized Crime or Internal Affairs or Intelligence division, but not strictly necessary. What are your thoughts on this? Would you be willing to assist me in finding and abducting a suitable body?"

"There is another thing as well, this one more important. I must ask you this honestly, and I request an honest answer, Zayne. This is an absolutely critical question for the endeavor which I am going to embark on soon. If you were given a contract directly or indirectly by someone called the Blind Man, and this contract was for me or for an associate of mine, would you take it?"

[pbangarth]

11:45 PM, Redmond, Touristville, nearby The Joke nightclub

"Yeah, yeah, Jovan. Your plan sounds fine. Sure, I'd be happy to help. I'll watch for somebody good."

Zayne, for all his blunt lust, is not the easiest mind to read. So many desires. So many fears. So many get-(X)-quick schemes course through his thoughts, that it really would confabulate the best of psychologists. Jovan's close acquaintance with him does help, some, though.

A shifting flicker of his eyes, at Jovan, away from Jovan, reflects that complex mental soup. "A run on you, Jovie?" The diminutive is a typical move to engender trust. "No way I would do that! First of all, we're buddies. Comrades in arms ... and in lunch." A slight grin. "And a guy would have to be crazy to take you on. Any plan I had, you'd figure it out before I did."

"Sooo... who is this Blind Man, Jovan? Is he somebody we gotta take care of?"

[pbangarth]

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2071, 11:45 PM, Redmond, Touristvillle--The loose Cannon night club

Throgg quaffs the drink. A few dregs drip down his chin. He slams the cup down on the table. "No prob, Zo. Anybody comes lookin' fer you, I'll scope out what he knows before I scoop out what he knows it with!" Ahhh, Throgg. A poet of the streets.

"Anything The Crush should know about 'dis guy, to keep our edge?"