Tangled Currents - Preston Options

[Mercy]

The first thing you notice as you leave Charlie's Place is that you stayed a bit longer than you had intended to. The Happy Hour specials had drug you in and the way Ellie wears her low cut top had kept you there. She did not seem to mind the way men try to look down her shirt, especially since that frequently translates to nice tips and sometimes a place to spend the night. The second thing you notice is that you should have brought your umbrella. It had been clear, with no sign of clouds in the sky when you went in and now look at it. Oh well, it is only two blocks to home and nothing for it but to pull your jacket collar up and try to stay as close to the buildings as possible.

From fifty feet away you can see her; some woman standing on the porch to the block of cheap apartments you call home. Based on the nice pantsuit she is wearing, she does not belong here. She appears to be smarter than you, however, as she is protected from most of the rain by a large umbrella. For some reason, you note that her ass is shapely under the trousers. She turns as you approach and you correct your assessment; her ass and her chest are shapely. Her face is not hard to look at, either. Blue eyes look at you through large-rimmed glasses and she says, "Do I perhaps have the pleasure of addressing Mister Preston?" Her accent is definitely foreign, probably French. She pauses, waiting for you to respond.

[Beta]

After discussing with MercyMerchant, we are moving this thread over to ShadowGrid.

[Beta]

Moving the thread back here, due to slowness on ShadowGrid. The six pages of that can be found here: http://forums.shadowruntabletop.com/index.php?topic=23767.0

And copying some references over from that thread:

- Character sheet https://stormy-waters-2075.obsidianportal.c...racters/preston

- OOC thread here: http://forums.shadowruntabletop.com/index.php?topic=23520.0

[Beta]

"Great, I'll arrange for that delivery then. Sorry if I'm going to be staring off into AR for a few minutes." Preston opens some AR catalogs and considers whether he should pretend that the phone isn't a burner, and buy something more than the basics, but ultimately decides to just go with cheap. He hates paying for anything using the normal banking system, fearing that someday it will draw more attention to his fake ID, but he has to accept that not showing a life trail may look even more suspicious. He'll just have to remember that although this link is a burner, it is still associated with his main ID.

He finishes up shortly before they arrive at the hotel, and this time he is relaxed enough to properly appreciate the attention to details in this place. "This place, it really is incredible, isn't it?"

From subtle logos and motifs that you absorb without really noting to the mix of obvious, unobtrusive, and most likely completely unseen security measures -- it isn't just that things are good, it is that people obviously put a lot of thought into how everything went together to make it all seamless, or at least apparently seamless. The quality level isn't in your face, but you can practically feel it emanate from the entire structure.

* Coleman: I wouldn't want to try and extract someone from a place like this. Bet you are in overlapping security measures all of the time, and overlapping firing fields more than you ever realize. They may even have permanent magical security.
* Gamma: I swore never again to voluntarily face off with a mage without having one on my side too.
* Coleman: Never take a run against this place -- but do look into how difficult and expensive it would be to get a room for a night or two, if I ever need to make sure I'm not extractable.
* Monkey: Or really impress a woman (other than Tanya). I bet the bathrooms alone could have magical pantie-melting properties.
* Oleg: Why do I tolerate this coarseness in myself?
* Monkey: Because I've always been here, but now at least I know much more what I'm really thinking. I can't sneak up on myself so well this way.

'I wonder if everyone's brains are this weird, and they hide it well? Or is it just me? I know everyone has issues -- it looks like Tanya may have some with cars? But are their thoughts so fractious?'

As it was when they left, everything has been smoothed out to make Tanya's transition into the hotel as easy as possible. 'Really good AI recognizing her car and sending the elevator to wait? Or humans just waiting to sort things out for their residents? Or maybe a bit of both, so that you can't get in too easily by either hacking the host or turning one of the staff?'

It is only as he is admiring Tanya exit the car that it occurs to him 'That she fits in here so well, it says something about her quality too, doesn't it? And like this place, you don't notice it all the time, like with how well she handled Amanda with no preparation. She might project as all surface, but there is a lot more depth here than I'd realized at first.'

As he takes her arm for the few steps to the elevator he comments "Every time I think I'm getting a handle on you, you show some new facet. Not just showing a new side, but changing the light in which to see everything else. I don't know if this is intentional or not, but from standing over here it certainly is intriguing. I feel like my brain is getting a healthy work-out just from getting to glimpse your various qualities."

[Mercy]

Wednesday 7 June 2075 2145 Gates Undersound Hotel Downtown Seattle.



Tanya steps out of the limousine with a hand in yours and smiles at you. "Thank you, Peter. I do try to not be too easy to predict. I learned long ago that girls that are predictable seldom have a lot of fun, and I do so enjoy having fun." She lets you escort her through the vast lobby with its water motif to the private elevators. The man in the uniform has changed, and there are now two of them. You can tell that both are armed and alert as the nod to Tanya. "Good evening, Lady Marisart. Some of your guests have already arrived."

Tanya replies, "Thank you, Robert. Yes I am afraid I am a trifle bit late to my own party. I hope that they forgive me. Say, how is that daughter of yours doing?"

The man smiles back, "She is doing just fine, thank you for asking. You should not spoil her so much; that birthday gift was way too generous."

She laughs, "I think it is a written law somewhere that godmothers are supposed to spoil their godchildren."

He nods, "As you say, Lady Marisart. May I present young Brandon Stewart. New to the security staff since you last had a party here."

Tanya holds out a hand to the young man. "Nice to meet you, Brandon. Gentlemen, this is my escort for the evening, Peter Preston. So who is below, Robert."

"Michael and Sarina, Lady Marisart. You know them."

The guards nod to you as Tanya pushes forward into the elevator car. As the door closes, you think you hear Robert talking to the young security man. "Now that is real people, Brandon. You remember her, mark my..........." The rest of the conversation is lost as the door shuts and the car moves silently to U3. Getting off, you immediately notice the two security personnel at the sides of the elevator. They are dressed like the ones upstairs and both nod to Tanya in greeting. She spends a minute talking to them and introduces you round. Leaving, she moves quickly to the door to Suite A, which opens before she touches the knob. Monique looks gorgeous in her dress and smiles at you as she offers to take your wraps. There are some whispered words between the two and both smile as if at some special secret. As you escort Tanya into the room you see perhaps a score of well-dressed people are already moving about the room, including two young women carrying trays of drinks. Tanya tosses up her arms and calls out someone's name and so begins the mingling.

[Beta]

Preston desperately wants to go find an inconspicuous corner to go stand, where he can observe with interacting, where nobody will pay attention with him. But knows he has to mingle, both in his role as Tanya's companion tonight, in a general sense of possibly making connections, and of course to cover trying to learn more about his target.

The conflicting desires paralyze him for a few long seconds, until he notices Monique giving him an inquiring look. Having to explain would also be painful, and that is enough to finally nudge him into walking into the room.

* Coleman: so far nobody has more than glanced my way, they won't remember much. I could still retreat and preserve anonymity.

He looks around in a daze -- most of these people seem to know each other. Being here with the hostess presumably gives him implicit permission to mingle and introduce himself, but at the same time it feels like there are social rules here that go beyond those that he has painstakingly memorized.

Then one of the servers comes by to offer him wine. He reflexively starts reaching for it, then thinks to ask "Would it be possible to get a coffee or soycaff?"

"Certainly sir, I'll be back with it shortly."

* Gamma: I think this is the first time I've been called sir in a non-sarcastic manner.

It certainly was weird, the inside-out fishbowl of the hotel seeming somehow an appropriate setting for the whole inside-out experience.

Then he spots him -- not his target, just a person to help him ease into the flow of things. He is old enough to be edging from distinguished to simply old, the younger lady he'd been talking to used chasing down a new glass of wine as an opportunity to end their conversation, and the gentleman didn't look spry enough to join a new conversation before Preston could get there.

"Hello, I'm Peter, I'm afraid Tanya got pulled into discussions before I got introduced around much, so I didn't catch your name?"

"Arthur. You aren't a musician, are you?"

"Uh, no, I'm afraid not."

"Good, I get tired of young musicians trying to ingratiate themselves with me. Like me liking you makes the slightest difference in who I'll produce. Hammer Paradise were all all horrible people, but the music worked out well, didn't it?"

As the older gentleman ranted, it dawned on Preston that he should have already had AR on, to see how many people were showing their names. He did so with a thought, then flicked a quick search when he didn't recognize the name Arthur Labakowski.

The search results came back as a flood, and he quickly cancelled it before even more data clogged up his 'link. Arthur Labakowski 'Legendary music producer', more awards than Preston could easily process, producer of not just Hammer Paradise but also Nikki Vavendi, Trogs Bang Rocks, Newt Gordon, Mariposa Days and more names that even Preston knew.

Arthur Labakowski, who was now staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. "Uh, my apologies, I didn't realize who you were, hadn't put my AR on and, uh..." he desperately filtered the data for a biography; damn-it, despite the name he was born in Wisconsin. ".... sorry, your face, I thought maybe you were Polish or Ukrainian, I'd hoped to rub some rust off my schoolroom Ukrainian."

Arthur looked flabbergasted for a moment, then replied in what Preston took for Polish, to the effect of "You know someone who makes good Krusczyki?" Or maybe it was "Do you know how to make good Krusczyki?" Ukrainian and Polish were close enough to generally make sense out of each other, but it was't always easy.

Preston replied in slow Ukrainian, hoping the sense would get across. "My grandmother did. I have her recipe. I have not made them on my own. Hard to get good eggs here."

He could see Arthur process through the language divide, then he grunted in English "It was worth asking." He started to turn away, then turned back and added "If you make some and they are actually good, I'll trade you a studio tour. Been forty years since I had Krusczyki worth the name."

The server came back with Preston's coffee just after Arthur wandered off. Preston sipped, wondering just who all else was at this affair.

[Mercy]

Wednesday 7 June 2075 2246 Tanya Marisart's Suite Downtown Seattle



Tanya floats through the room as if she was born to this sort of thing, moving from one guest to another. She does not focus on just one person in a group, but seems determined to include everyone in a conversation, including the wives and husbands, even the various bits of male and female eye candy that seem to be almost a requirement. It appears that many of those who were already present when you arrived had not attended the opera and ask questions about it, but that most of the people that come after you had attended and are very willing to talk about it. Your target and his mistress show up about thirty minutes after you do and immediately begin to mingle. From your position near the wall, you can see almost everything that happens. Radiant Shadow seems to be in her element as well, usually surrounded by at least three men and women. You see her shake her head as if in regret several times, but it does seem as if a number of people are smiling as they leave her presence. A couple of times she catches your eye and gives you a wink.

“Peter.” You hear Tanya say your name and turn to see that she is arm in arm with Arthur Labakowski. “Peter, Arthur tells me that you may have a good recipe for Krusczyki. You have been keeping secrets. He also said that he would trade a studio tour for a good batch of the treats.” She turns to the producer and begins talking to him in what you believe to be Polish and the speed at which she talks would seem to promise a good practical knowledge of the language. The man smiles and nods before bowing to you and turning away. Tanya turns to you and says, “OK. I hope that you know what you are doing, because I have just invited Arthur over for dinner here on Sunday night. I am not so good in the kitchen, but I can help. Let Monique know what ingredients you need and she will get them for you.” Slipping her arm into yours she adds, “And now we mingle. I want to introduce you to some of the movers and shakers of Seattle, Peter. If you stick with me, we will turn this town upside down and make it ours.”

For the next ninety minutes she guides you from one conversation to another, introducing you by name but leaving your background as a sort of mystery. You notice a pattern emerging from her seemingly random encounters. She seems to always be going from one person or group completely across the living room instead of moving to the nearest other group. While walking she is whispering into your ear some bit of information about the next person; something that you can use in your conversation. By the end of the evening, you have met more people than you will be able to remember, but you have been seen and noticed. What is more, you have mingled and shaken hands and talked with powerful and rich men and women. As you go, you find that Tanya coaches you less and less and smiles at you more and more. You are introduced to Howard, who does not seem to remember seeing you at the opera, and he talks very little to you. His eyes are fastened on Tanya’s cleavage and it almost seems that he wants to be the man standing in front of her when the dress finally gives up and exposes her. Given that he is standing next to even more cleavage than Tanya has, this seems a bit rude. During the conversation with Tanya, Howard asks her if she still shoots skeet. “Why, yes, but not as much as I used to. Time, you know.”

Howard actually turns to you. “You do any skeet shooting, Peter. Good stuff. I am looking for a partner for this blasted charity match my wife signed me up for. Usually, I would just turn it down, but it supports a good cause. What do you say? Got a practice round lined up for Monday out at the Great West.” He turns to Tanya. “And what about the Breeder’s Cup on Saturday? Big race. Know a bit about what’s going on and have some money down on one of Ramone’s horses. Bring Peter and we will all have a great time. Show up at ten. Tickets will be waiting, and eats at the club after.” He points a finger at you. “Speaking of fillies, don’t go underestimating this one, Peter. Sharp mind.” He chuckles as he turns and walks away.

Tanya turns to you. “See? And you barely had to do anything except be here. I can tell that you have picked up a lot of confidence tonight, and men like Howard appreciate confidence.”

[Beta]

The number of names and faces and facts threatened to overwhelm, but it was the amount of attention he was receiving that really triggered the urge to run and hide. As they crossed the room for the third time, Preston murmured to Tanya "You have no idea how uncomfortable this is for someone who has made his living mostly by not being noticed."

Without breaking her smile, Tanya shot back "I was thrown into this it as a gawky teenager. Would you have preferred that?"

That brought a genuine smile to Preston's lips. In part from the realization that indeed it could be worse, but mostly from trying to imagine 'gawky' ever having been an adjective that applied to Tanya. He thought firmly to himself 'I know how to disappear in plain sight. Just BE the role so that they remember the role.'

* Gamma: It is fortunate that most people find my face quite forgettable.
* Oleg: I hate big city life -- so many new people all of the time! You can't trust people aren't part of your community.
* Gamma: This isn't my community at the moment, but it is Tanya's, and she is introducing me to it.

Preston winced mentally. When he put it to himself that way, it was clear he needed to stop sulking about the situation, and make the most of it. Time to start creating files, both mental and matrix, on all of these people. As they approached the next small clump of people, Preston got serious about getting to work.

His memory had always been decent, and bioware had made it better, but he needn't rely just on memory. Using his internal commlink he created a new file for Seattle society, and tossed in names and factoids as he gathered them, as well as set up simple searches for public biographies of these people. He'd need to make time soon to sort and order that, as well as pull down more data from the matrix, but this would be a start. The factoids were not just what Tanya said or people mentioned directly, but bits of what he observed.

[Beta]

When they finally talk to Howard, Preston makes sure to look the man over, in glimpses here and there, now and again. His rings as they shake hands, his shoes while Preston is looking at the floor. The cut of his jacket as Howard and Tanya are talking. His face near the end. Preston doesn't know what he is looking for, other than getting a good read on the man, but it never hurts to have the details down. Of course, he makes notes in a folder dedicated to 'Target-Arthur.'

Howard actually turns to you. “You do any skeet shooting, Peter. Good stuff. I am looking for a partner for this blasted charity match my wife signed me up for. Usually, I would just turn it down, but it supports a good cause. What do you say? Got a practice round lined up for Monday out at the Great West.”

Preston frantically looks up what skeet shooting is. Something about 'clay pigeons' and rifles or maybe shotguns? Certainly not something he'd have any skill at, but by the time he's figured that out, Howard has already moved on.

He turns to Tanya. “And what about the Breeder’s Cup on Saturday? Big race. Know a bit about what’s going on and have some money down on one of Ramone’s horses. Bring Peter and we will all have a great time. Show up at ten. Tickets will be waiting, and eats at the club after.” He points a finger at you. “Speaking of fillies, don’t go underestimating this one, Peter. Sharp mind.” He chuckles as he turns and walks away.

After Howard is safely out of earshot, Preston whispers to Tanya "He doesn't exactly care what anyone else has to say, does he?" While thinking 'Not much worries about him remembering me out of context -- not when I was standing next to Tanya's breasts.

* Monkey: gambling, leching -- I like him already!
* Oleg: He seems well established and confident of wealth and power. People like that can be good to befriend.
* Coleman: He has massive blind spots, or wants people to think that he does. He is either vulnerable, or very, very, dangerous. Best not to assume the former.
* Gamma: I must watch myself, to avoid becoming too much like him, when not acting in that way.

Preston gives his thoughts a moment to see if the new voice has anything to add, then carries on with what he was saying.

"Anyway, let me know what you want to do with those invitations. Obviously they could potentially make my job easier, but then again they take time away from other avenues -- potentially prime time, at that."

As their social rounds wind down, Preston looks for an opportunity for them to talkwith Amanda briefly, so that he can pass along the comm code of his new burner.

[Mercy]

One of Howard's rings is almost certainly a wedding band, while the other is a very ornamental thing with a large diamond in the setting. You note that he indeed missing his right pinkie finger from the first knuckle. The fancy walking stick he uses to help him walk is from a dark wood and inlaid with silver and gold designs. His clothes are perfectly tailored but his shoes stand out as patent leather rather than real leather and the artificial shine is a bit off for the way he is dressed. He has a small scar under his left eye, but otherwise has no distinguishing marks that you can see. As you have already noticed, his attention is rather unabashedly focused on Tanya breasts, even when talking to her. Even when talking to you, he quickly places his eyes back to her chest as soon as he can. You have seen other men, and a few women look with interest at her breasts, but all of them have quickly forced their focus elsewhere when talking to her.

Tanya nods to you after Howard turns away. "Yes, Peter, he does not really care what others have to say. In his position, he probably feels immune to social criticism. And to be honest, it would seem that he is correct. But, yes, I think that the skeet shooting and horse race would be good for you. If you impress him, you might be admitted to his close circle. The closer you are, the more information you can learn. Of course, I will not tell you how to do you job. If you want to turn him down, I will not force you to differently. Like you have said, there are several ways to get information about him, and I am letting you prove yourself. I will say, though, that if you accept his invitations I will help you with the skeet part. Unless, of course, you are already familiar with sport shotguns." She squeezes your arm. "I must congratulate you, though. Earlier in the night I was a bit worried that you might be too shy or too nervous to try to fit into this environment. But I have noticed that you are actually doing much better. Keep up the good work.

Tanya leaves your side for a bit and you notice that Amanda is also alone and standing at the snack table. She smiles as you approach and gives you a knowing look when you pass on the burner code. "I really look forward to seeing you on Friday, Peter." She turns to add something to her plate and you inwardly groan at the sight offered you. Just how do those things stay in the dress? Her breasts are clearly a few cup sizes larger than Tanya's and the gown she is wearing is extremely revealing. But not quite revealing enough. She nibbles at something then says, "So have you been abandoned, too. I am afraid that my charms may have lost their charm for Howard. he sure was spending a lot of time looking at your boss' chest. So, mister coffee man, how did she pick you for this?"

[Beta]

* Gamma: I don't actually know the answer to that.
* She doesn't care about the literal truth, she's making conversation. I should make conversation back.

That was ... surely not magical manipulation of his thoughts. Although how that voice could be so sure of Amanda's motives and the best response he wasn't sure. Still, if he'd picked up one thing this evening it was that people enjoyed being talked to, no matter their station in life.

* Oleg: No accounting for taste.
* Coleman: If I were to consider social navigation as a combat art, such small talk could be viewed as intelligence gathering and scouting of the terrain.
* Oleg: 'If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there'd be no work for tinker's hands.'
* Gamma: I believe tinkering has been an extinct profession for well over a century, so technically the conditions have been met.
* Oleg: I know exactly what I mean, so no being cute about it!

"Well, I don't know exactly how it came about, but apparently a recommendation of some sort from a previous ..." Lover? Partner? Consuming Passion? Co-dependent substance abuser? "... client." He notices Amanda noticing the pause and the twist he can't help putting on that last word., so to head off questions he expands: "Business acquaintances of each other, I guess you could say. I'm not sure I want to know what was in that conversation, and I can't say I've ever been entirely sure what Tanya was or is looking for."

That still left more openings than he was comfortable with for questions he didn't want to answer. This he knows what to do about, at least, it was in all the instructions about being a polite conversationalist: take turns. After making a statement, inquire of the other person. "How about you and Howard?" Preston can't help glancing at her cantilevered chest, so clarifies "Don't get me wrong, I can imagine the attraction! But surely he didn't meet you where, ah, you used to work and were considering re-applying. There must be some sort of story there?"

[Beta]

For Mercy:

She notices where your gaze goes and is smiling when you look back up. “Don’t be embarrassed to look, Peter. Dressed like this, I am lucky my boobs are not falling out all over the place, although I suspect that any number of men and some women here might relish such a view. Perhaps including you? And there is nothing artificial about them, either. I was twelve when they popped out, and they were oversized even then. I was very popular in the neighborhood I grew up in and lots of the boys were willing to shell out spare change to get a look and some real cash to get a feel.” She shrugs, which does something nice to her chest. “Anyway, it was not long before I was shaking them on a stage. I was maybe fourteen when I started and the money was nice, but the way people looked at me was nicer. Of course, I did not know back then that I was one of the poor downtrodden women who are victimized by the cultural norms of society. I was just doing it for fun and money. Lost my virginity on the second night of working at the club. It was so close after my fourteenth birthday that I considered it a nice present, especially after the guy gave my fifty nuyen for doing it with him. Fast forward more years than I am going to admit to you right now, and they stopped growing, but not before they were larger than most. Still all me and no implants. Gravity is winning the battle, though, and they need a lot of propping up. A few years back I took some of the money I was making and had a good lift done to allow me to keep working.” She laughs, “So, too much information about my tits? Sorry. Some times I just can’t stop talking once I get started.”

Amanda gives you a look, “Me and Howard? Yeah, that. Don’t let him fool you. He comes across all refined with his fancy house, his trophy wife, his nice cars, and his skeet shooting, but make no mistake, he is far from refined at heart. We actually did meet at the strip bar. He came in with some friends and dropped a load of nuyen on the dancers, me in particular. He gave me a lot of money to have sex with him that night, and then several more nights after that. Suddenly I found myself in a nice apartment with nice clothes and a spending allowance, and all I have to do for him is be available to be on his arm for social events and to spread my legs for him when he wants to come over. But I can tell you that the man is far from refined. Or I might tell you if you ask nicely when you see me on Friday.”

[Beta]

* Oleg: Oh, she's one of those people whose sexuality is such a part of their identity.
* Monkey: Lucky-ducky!
* Oleg: It's distasteful
* Monkey: It's tasty!
* Gamma: Cognitive Dissonance; time-out on this discussion.

Preston knew that he was less sexual than most people, at least in how he defined himself. Not that he didn’t like sex or spend far too much time thinking about it, but he’d more than once toyed with the idea that life would be a lot easier without all of those desires. That they were something that biology forced him to care about, more than something that he wanted to care about. He was pretty sure that there was ‘ware of some description that could block that without actually messing with the body, but he’d never quite brought himself to investigate that avenue.

For that matter, he lived in his mind more than his body. He kept moderately fit and quite flexible, and his fortunately somewhat generic face and body made a good template for disguises. A body was certainly useful, and it was nice to taste good coffee or whatnot. But he’d never quite understood people who were obsessed with pleasures of the flesh. Sure Amanda might be exceptionally endowed, but when you could plug into virtual reality and have any sort of partner you wanted, so what? Granted that simulations were still not quite the same as reality, especially if you restricted yourself to cold sim, but that didn’t mean they weren’t awfully good. He was pretty sure that there was some emotional thing that for some made doing things in meat space more rewarding than running a sim, but he’d never really understood it.

So he was torn in how to interpret Amanda’s words. He was tempted to think of her as being exploited, men preying on a young woman who had developed precociously, twisting her whole life path in the image of their lusts. But at the same time she sounded like she didn’t have any regrets, that she enjoyed that physical focus in her life. A type of Stockholm Syndrome, identifying with the desires of those who had power over her? Or someone naturally attracted to the pleasures of the flesh who was lucky to have flesh that so many wanted to pleasure? Or an attention addict who hid her addiction from herself and others through her lifestyle choices? Or

* I really need to get over myself.

Well.

Or he could stop trying to judge her choices, and just enjoy her company.

Preston cracked his best effort at a smile, and said "Actually I'm looking forward to Friday a lot too." He glanced around at the elegance and tasteful opulence around them. "This....doesn't feel real. And as you pointed out, you are all real." He hoped it came across as a fun quip and not a creepy leer, but he felt Amanda could field the comment either way.

"Look, I can be kind of awkward with people. You seem to handle them better. Aside from looking forward to talking and whatever else we decide to do, I'm probably going to make you an offer as a sort of personal social trainer. Help me break some of my bad habits, give me feedback on what is good and isn't. I may never be as comfortable face-to-face as I am avatar-to-avatar, but I figure its never to late to get better. I'm nothing like so loaded that its going to be any sort of well paying full time job, but I'll work out what I can offer, and you can work out if you're interested."

[Mercy]

Amanda looks at you closely when you say that you are looking forward to seeing her. After a moment, she brightens visibly. “Yes. Yes, I think you mean that. And not just for my body. It is strange to consider being with someone who is nor solely interested in sex with me. Quite odd, actually and I am not sure how I am supposed to react. Of course, sex is on the plate if you want, but………………wow. You are a different sort of guy. Try not to let this lifestyle ruin that.” She looks around the room then nods to where Tanya is chatting with two older men and their wives. “But you, you have it good, Peter. I have been with Howard for several months and been to tons of this sort of shindig. I have seen your employer at a number of them, including three here, and she is just about the most real of these people I have met or seen. I am sure that you have noticed that Howard rarely introduces me to others or talks to me, and he spends a lot of time trying to be suave while attempting to look down the dresses of other women. Sadly, he is not alone. Most of the people of that social elite class are just the same. Tanya Marisart is not. I have seen her walking with you and talking with you. She does not seem the type to order you to go get drinks. More importantly, she makes time to talk to the eye candy. I have stood here and watched her compliment the serving staff and the man behind the bar. No one does that unless they really care. Unless they are real. And do you want to know what to me is the most telling point? Look at the woman over there, the maid. I know that you have had to meet her already, but I have heard things about her. Besides being incredibly efficient, she is LOYAL, with all caps. I know that others have offered her huge sums to go work for them but she turns everyone down. And that is the number one best sign of a good boss; that the staff is loyal.”

She waves her hand at the room. “And the furnishings? I have heard others talk down about her for having good but not best. But I have sat on the couches and chairs here and they are comfortable. The kind of comfortable that you can enjoy. Howard’s crap is expensive and antique and he goes all pale if anyone even looks like they want to sit on a chair. And most of these people are just like that. I would rather sit on her couch than look at one in another house. What the frag, right? Now the odds and ends? They are real, and I imagine really expensive. But they do not seem out of place. If you are new to this, you remember what I have said and you will see what I mean. No, on the whole, I would really rather be employed by your boss than mine and for lots of reasons. You are a lucky man, Peter. You should try to hold onto this gig for as long as you can.” She again nods her head. "And here she comes."

Tanya walks up to the two of you, saying, "Peter, I would like to introduce you to some friends of mine. Vasily and Alexis Tikhonovich, may I introduce my companion, Peter Preston? Peter, Alexis and I are good friends and she consented to bring Vasily with her tonight. Alexis and I serve on several committees together. I explained our little problem and Alexis has graciously agreed to help us. And this is my friend Amanda Good, she has been unceremoniously abandoned by Howard." Both of the newcomers give a polite but somewhat negative expression when they hear the name. Vassily holds out an arm for Amanda and says, "Let us leave the cooks to their chat, my dear. I am sure that we can find something to talk about." Alexis calls out. "Vassily, don't make any arrangements to bring her home that don't include me. From dear Tanya's description, she sounds particularly interesting." She then turns to you. "Now, what is this I hear about you needing some advice on Polish cooking? I happen to know a bit about it."

Tanya snickers. "Peter, Alexis is the owner of the Krakow Corner. She serves the best Polish cuisine in almost anywhere. I will leave you two to chat and try to keep poor Arthur from guessing anything." Tanya leaves and the Polish woman looks at you expectantly.

[Beta]

Preston grits his teeth a bit. "I know that Tanya was being helpful, but please understand that I'm simply looking to cook a batch of home-made cookies. My only real issue was that to do it properly I need many egg yolks and some thick cream, and I wouldn't know where to get quality ingredients in this city. If I can get those in reasonable quantity -- and she has already offered her services in that regard -- then it is a matter of making a few batches to get from having a recipe to really having a feel for the things. I'm not a professional, but I have a well seasoned cookie sheet, an oven that mostly holds its temperature, and what else do you really need?"

Gamma: That was rude.

Preston draws a long breath, then apologizes to the taken back restauranteur "Sorry, I shouldn't have blown up at you, it was very kind of you to come offer your help. I think I had suddenly reached my tolerance for being helped today -- Tanya is remarkably generous and helpful but it can get to be a bit much. I am sorry that she made this seem like more of a crisis than it is. In all fairness, she doesn't know that my grandmother taught me fairly well how to bake or that I did the basic baking in a coffee shop that I worked at after college. I'm not a pro, but it's just cookies, and home made cookies don't need the help of a restaurant, no matter how wonderful it may be."

* Gamma: Still somewhat rude.
* I should probably also let her get a word in edge-wise.

"To re-cap: sorry for my reaction, and sorry you were pulled into this, and sorry that we are making a mountain out of Krusczyki."

A momentary pause, then

"A blast it, after all of that -- Tanya was right. My family is Ukranian, Arthur's was Polish, I think it is the same basic cookie but I don't know if there are variants. Maybe I do need a recipe consult."

[Mercy]

Alexis looks taken aback as you talk, and even moves a step away. She is a kind woman, though and waits patiently for you to finish, then smiles at the end. “Ah, yes. Our Tanya. She is such a nice girl, that one. However, it can get to be of an issue at times. But I think that if she offered to help you get the ingredients you need, she was thinking of me. I have such things all the time, and as fresh as possible. She did not ask me to cook for you, but only to check your recipe for to see if it is Polish enough and to get you the ingredients you need. I know our Arthur and he is quite picky, even though he should stick to his horrible music and not the cooking. Always with the advice and he knows so little about it. But I am at your disposal, Mister Peter. Would you like me to look at your recipe and provide you some ingredients? I can be available on the morning of Sunday to come. Here is my comm code to send recipe and I will look at it and make comments. But please do not do this thing if it does not sit well with you. Vassily and I, we owe everything to our Tanya and love her like our own child, but she can be…..I do not know how to say it best……………….she can be too helpful at times. Maybe that is the best way. At her heart, she is a good person and wants to help others. And she knows people and has money to get things done to help people. But sometimes it is too much too fast. But you let me know if you want my help, but you will do the cooking.”

The woman smiles and touches your arm as she stands up. She looks over to where Tanya is then says, “Just remember that you will have no truer friend than our Tanya, if you can handle her. And here she comes back to you. You are lucky man that she likes you. Contact me if you help, Mister Preston.” She leaves you, intercepting Tanya on the way and bussing her cheeks before going off to her husband. Tanya walks to where you are and smiles. “I am pooped and want to sit, but cannot. People will be leaving soon and I need to be ready at the door to see them off. Do you wish to walk with me? By the way, I have fielded many questions about who you actually are and I would guess that you might receive some invitations to other parties, some even without me.”

[Mercy]

Preston looks around, then asks “Is there some sort of signal, at affairs like this, that it is time to leave? Or is it simply that people start leaving around a certain time out of habit or expectation? I certainly know that my head is stuffed so full that I don’t know if I can even process any more information. Tell me that it is going to rain on Friday and I’d probably look at you blankly, or maybe make a snarky comment about it being Seattle so of course it is going to rain. Or maybe just start babbling, like I’m doing now.”

He glances down at Tanya’s feet, and suggests “What I’m getting at is that I’d be all for giving whatever subtle signal might encourage people to leave. And once they do I’d happily exchange foot rubs with you – although I admit that these shoes are far more comfortable than anything so dressy has any right to be. Standing around is still tiring, even with comfortable footwear, and what you are wearing, well, I can’t imagine how your feet must be feeling by now.”

[Mercy]

Tanya smiles. “It is kind of a signal thing. I let someone know it is time to start leaving and then the rest sort of follow after. Sometimes there are a few strays hanging about that have to be chased off with a broom, but not often. And a foot massage sounds divine. You have just given me enough incentive to get things rolling.” She takes your arm and leads you to another couple you have already met. After a minute there is some sort of signal and the couple indicate that they are leaving. The two of you walk them to the door as Monique brings their wraps out. Soon after there are more people leaving and you bid each one good night in turn. Howard reminds you about Saturday and Monday and winks at you as he leaves. Arthur nods and indicates he is looking forward to your krusczyki. Radiant Shadow goes off with several old and new friends, thanking you very much for having had her invited.

Soon, all are gone and Tanya tells Monique that the clean up can wait until the morning and sends her off to bed, leaving the two of you alone in the large living room. She walks with you to the couch and exhales as she sits. She pats the space next to her and says, “I am so glad that is done and that I do not do that often.” She reaches down and unstraps her shoes to remove them before swinging her feet up onto the couch and turning to face you. “So, if you turn to face me, we can do both sets of feet at the same time.” The way she is sitting, you can put your legs outside hers and she brings one foot at a time into her lap and begins rubbing it. She keeps her eyes on you and her hands are like magic as she works the sore muscles of your feet and ankles, and she makes sounds like a purring cat as you do hers. After a few minutes she stops purring and says, “So, talk to me. Tell me honestly what you think. About the opera. About the party. About the people you met. About me. I think that it is clear that I am not used to working with others in the capacity that I hope we will and I want to be able to make corrections if we are to become a team. I am a loner that wants to expand and I need help doing that.”

[Mercy]

Preston opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before admitting "To be honest, I don’t know what to think yet, not really. Today has been such a whirlwind of new activities, experiences, and faces. And opportunities too, I suppose. I still haven't processed it all. It’s like -- actually I don’t really have a comparable. Well, sort of ...”


* Gamma: My only comparable was the less intense but no less disorienting experience of becoming a bounty hunter.

* Coleman: Knowledge is power, I should not give that power to her.

* Monkey: I like her -- anyone who will give me a foot rub like that I trust.

* Oleg: Admitting my dishonorable conduct isn't apt to impress the chit.

* Gamma: A fairly normal part of developing any sort of personal relationship is exchange of private confessions.

* Coleman: It would be better to get such revelations from her without having to give any up in return.

* Gamma: I don't have the social skills to make it likely that I could do that while still developing the relationship.

* Better to hear it from me than to hear it from others when I've been concealing it.


Preston shifted his position a bit to be able to look at Tanya more squarely, blew out a long breath, and explained "I have some history that you should probably know about. Maybe you've already researched me, if not then probably someone will warn you about me eventually. Better to tell you myself, I guess

[Mercy]

I got picked up by a bounty hunter -- no, not as a bounty, but as a sort of assistant or trainee or something. He had all sorts of skills, but wasn't great with the matrix. Used to be it didn't matter so much because most of his targets were offline, but after they brought in the wireless matrix it got harder to not leave a trail, and he wanted someone who could follow that trail. I'm not saying I'm the best there ever was at that, but good enough to be useful to him. And I was useful in other ways, we had a similar build and colouring, so sometimes I was his decoy, and I already had some training with pistol and clubs and he worked with both too so I got better, and sometimes I was the guy outside the back door, or whatever. No surprise, I guess, that he handled the talking. And the driving, and the chainsaw."

"The very first job I helped him on, before I was even his, well, whatever I was, I tracked someone down in a matrix game and got enough information on them to find them off-line, and helped him flush them out to where he could catch the guy. I've not played Red Shift since then, word got out somehow and that is such an interactive game that it wouldn't shock me if someone's add-on identified me by play rhythm or something."

"I guess maybe that should have been a warning, except that I didn't see the problem back then. I got the advantage on someone and got paid for it? I thought it was great, I wanted more. And I got it. My partner, went by the handle Fisher, he specialized in scams to get close to people, or to pull them out of their hiding or safe spots. Some of the people we took down were reasonably well liked in the shadow community, and Fisher wasn't too worried about hiding that he'd taken certain people down. Which meant that nobody shadowy could fully trust him, because they didn't know when he was pulling a scam. Which meant they couldn't fully trust me, either. As a team, we were manipulative fraggers, to the extreme."

"Then Fisher went and got himself eaten. Mind mage figured us out just in time. He made me eat a grenade, but I was lucky, it was only tear gas. Scarring on my lungs from that still bugs me, but I got out alive, while Fisher ... didn't. I carried on afterwards, took a few lesser bounties on my own, but mostly I wanted that fragger that killed Fisher. I was ... not entirely sane, probably. I was obsessed with taking that guy down, and I was popping the Jazz regularly and other uppers when I couldn't get it. Those sort of drugs, they make it feel like your thoughts are racing into the future, no time to second guess yourself. Its amazing ... and terrible. Things can seem like a great idea, that if you thought about it in any sort of sane way would seem terrible."

Preston finally realized that he had his hands locked behind his neck, and was rocking a bit. He forced them apart and into his lap, and forced himself to the end of the story. "I managed to feed a rigger he often worked with to the police, I assassinated the decker who game him security, I identified his sister and used her son's birthday to catch him out of his safe spot -- at least I didn't take him down at the party but that was mostly because I was worried he'd use mind magic to make me go after the wrong target. It went down on the expressway, surprisingly easily. So easy I worried that he'd faked his death, or masked someone else. What if I'd done all of that and I hadn't killed him?"

"Surfing on the Jazz, it was obvious what to do: I cut off his head and took it with me, to remove all doubt about him being dead, or him being him. Nobody saw me do it, but when his body was identified, well, it was kind of obvious what had happened, and there were people who put two and two together. He was a nasty enough piece of business that nobody much felt like avenging him, but that didn't mean that they wanted to work with someone who would head-hunt someone either."

Preston let out a long, shuddering, breath, and finished. "I managed to get off the Jazz, but pretty much retreated to the matrix. Hot Sim can be so intense that you can block out almost everything -- even all of that. Eventually I crawled my back out of there and started trying to put a life back together. I may have changed, but my reputation out there hasn't. I'm still a ruthless manipulator who will do anything to get his target, who would even kill someone on the way to his nephew's birthday party and cut off his head, who has no loyalty to the shadow community. Or maybe my reputation is right, and I'm just trying to manipulate you -- up to you to decide if I'm really this socially awkward, or actually such a good actor that I could fake it."

"All of that said: if you want me to go, I will."

For once, his mental voices were silent.

[Mercy]

Tanya is silent for a moment then slides her bare foot against your inner thigh. The feeling is quite sensual, especially as her toes somehow manage to reach all the way up your thigh to stimulate something else. The feeling almost makes you miss her words, “Hey. Aren’t you forgetting something? Mutual foot rubs, here, please.” She lets her foot slide back down so you can get to work as she talks. “I really appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to tell me this about you. I would certainly hope that if I were forced to kill myself that I would have someone in my corner to seek out a most horrible revenge on whoever did that to me. Now, having said that, though, I would like to say a few things. I have already given you my thoughts on drugs and addictions.” She points to her right arm and her eyes. “These are not what I was born with as are several parts of my interior. As I told you, I was hooked on pain meds for a couple of years. I do take advantage of people that use drugs but I am clean and will try like hell to never go back to that. Also, I always try to plan to do my jobs without killing anyone. I have killed in the past, but prefer not to and would like it if you were to agree to that. I think I would stop if I had to plan on killing people. Oh! Whatever you just did feels sooooo good. Please do it again. Oh, yes, that’s it. Perfect.”

Tanya arches her back a bit and moans in pleasure as you work on her feet. Suddenly, she sits up and yanks her feet back and off the couch. Her eyes are wide and she is panting. “My God! Well, that is a first. You almost brought me off by just rubbing my feet. I did not realize that would do that.” She flutters her hand in front of her face and blows are from her mouth. “OK. Wow. We can get back to that later. At least I certainly hope we can get back to that later.”

She stands and holds out a hand to you. “Would you like to see what really turns me on? Come on, I’ll show you.” She leads you to a section of wall that has a nice marble statuette on a shelf and touches a place under the shelf, causing a panel of wood to slide open to reveal a door. She fishes out a small keychain and uses an old fashioned key to unlock the door. She opens it and lights turn on as she enters the room. Inside, she opens a small cabinet next to the door, exposing a palm reader and data pad. Placing her palm on the surface causes a green bar to scan across her palm and she simultaneously enters a code on the data pad. Turning to you, she motions for you to place your palm on the scanner and enters a code for you. She smiles and says, “You are now Guest 1. Close the door please. The room is as large as the bedroom you had changed in. A large conference table and twelve chairs dominates the center of the room, while every wall has cupboards and drawers of various sizes. There is a small kitchenette and bathroom opening from the far wall. Tanya moves to the center chair of the table and touches a stud, causing a console to rise from the table in front of her. She turns to you and gives you one of her light-up-the-room smiles. “This is my life, Peter. Or, rather, where I plan my life. I do not steal things to keep them, but to sell them. I know good fences that can usually get me top price for what I take. Sometimes I work on commission and steal things for other people. Jewelry, art, furs, statuettes, money, and people are on the list of what I take. I try to stay away from drugs or guns, but have made an exception or two over the years.” She sweeps her hand at the chairs. “I usually work solo, but that does not mean I do not make use of assets. I know hackers, mages, drivers, riggers, medics, you name it, I might have a contact that does it. I bring in a team to support me and give me ideas and I pay them a generous salary to keep quiet about who I am and what I do. But I am ready to move on to bigger things. I have been commissioned to steal something wonderful, something fantastic, but it is incredibly well guarded by very well funded and cautious people. I should say very well funded, cautious, and dangerous people. I think I need more than just a loose group of experts. I want a team. I want to be Moriarty with a criminal enterprise that can outwit even Holmes. And if you know the reference, I will be so impressed that I will offer to have your child. I am already searching for such people and have hopes that I can put such a team together. And I want you, Peter. I want you to be my chief lieutenant, my partner, my friend.”

“You were not selected at random. Monique did not simply go to a flower shop and manage to get your name. No, she went to the flower shop because she already had your name and your former girlfriend works there. I am sure that I do not have all of the knowledge about you, but I have enough. You have been honest with me and I certainly do not believe that you are manipulating me to some horrible and ugly end. I do think that you have experienced several crisis in your life and are still working back from some of them. I ask you; who isn’t? I was bloody well broken once. Lost and alone, shunning people that had been my friends until the accident. Do you know that I had three people come visit me in hospital more than once? Three. My bloody cousin Jeremey, the man who stole my inheritance with the help of the crown came once

[Mercy]

Tanya is silent for a moment then slides her bare foot against your inner thigh. The feeling is quite sensual, especially as her toes somehow manage to reach all the way up your thigh to stimulate something else. The feeling almost makes you miss her words, “Hey. Aren’t you forgetting something? Mutual foot rubs, here, please.” She lets her foot slide back down so you can get to work as she talks. “I really appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to tell me this about you. I would certainly hope that if I were forced to kill myself that I would have someone in my corner to seek out a most horrible revenge on whoever did that to me. Now, having said that, though, I would like to say a few things. I have already given you my thoughts on drugs and addictions.” She points to her right arm and her eyes. “These are not what I was born with as are several parts of my interior. As I told you, I was hooked on pain meds for a couple of years. I do take advantage of people that use drugs but I am clean and will try like hell to never go back to that. Also, I always try to plan to do my jobs without killing anyone. I have killed in the past, but prefer not to and would like it if you were to agree to that. I think I would stop if I had to plan on killing people. Oh! Whatever you just did feels sooooo good. Please do it again. Oh, yes, that’s it. Perfect.”

Tanya arches her back a bit and moans in pleasure as you work on her feet. Suddenly, she sits up and yanks her feet back and off the couch. Her eyes are wide and she is panting. “My God! Well, that is a first. You almost brought me off by just rubbing my feet. I did not realize that would do that.” She flutters her hand in front of her face and blows are from her mouth. “OK. Wow. We can get back to that later. At least I certainly hope we can get back to that later.”

She stands and holds out a hand to you. “Would you like to see what really turns me on? Come on, I’ll show you.” She leads you to a section of wall that has a nice marble statuette on a shelf and touches a place under the shelf, causing a panel of wood to slide open to reveal a door. She fishes out a small keychain and uses an old fashioned key to unlock the door. She opens it and lights turn on as she enters the room. Inside, she opens a small cabinet next to the door, exposing a palm reader and data pad. Placing her palm on the surface causes a green bar to scan across her palm and she simultaneously enters a code on the data pad. Turning to you, she motions for you to place your palm on the scanner and enters a code for you. She smiles and says, “You are now Guest 1. Close the door please. The room is as large as the bedroom you had changed in. A large conference table and twelve chairs dominates the center of the room, while every wall has cupboards and drawers of various sizes. There is a small kitchenette and bathroom opening from the far wall. Tanya moves to the center chair of the table and touches a stud, causing a console to rise from the table in front of her. She turns to you and gives you one of her light-up-the-room smiles. “This is my life, Peter. Or, rather, where I plan my life. I do not steal things to keep them, but to sell them. I know good fences that can usually get me top price for what I take. Sometimes I work on commission and steal things for other people. Jewelry, art, furs, statuettes, money, and people are on the list of what I take. I try to stay away from drugs or guns, but have made an exception or two over the years.” She sweeps her hand at the chairs. “I usually work solo, but that does not mean I do not make use of assets. I know hackers, mages, drivers, riggers, medics, you name it, I might have a contact that does it. I bring in a team to support me and give me ideas and I pay them a generous salary to keep quiet about who I am and what I do. But I am ready to move on to bigger things. I have been commissioned to steal something wonderful, something fantastic, but it is incredibly well guarded by very well funded and cautious people. I should say very well funded, cautious, and dangerous people. I think I need more than just a loose group of experts. I want a team. I want to be Moriarty with a criminal enterprise that can outwit even Holmes. And if you know the reference, I will be so impressed that I will offer to have your child. I am already searching for such people and have hopes that I can put such a team together. And I want you, Peter. I want you to be my chief lieutenant, my partner, my friend.”

“You were not selected at random. Monique did not simply go to a flower shop and manage to get your name. No, she went to the flower shop because she already had your name and your former girlfriend works there. I am sure that I do not have all of the knowledge about you, but I have enough. You have been honest with me and I certainly do not believe that you are manipulating me to some horrible and ugly end. I do think that you have experienced several crisis in your life and are still working back from some of them. I ask you; who isn’t? I was bloody well broken once. Lost and alone, shunning people that had been my friends until the accident. Do you know that I had three people come visit me in hospital more than once? Three. My bloody cousin Jeremey, the man who stole my inheritance with the help of the crown came once and was so shocked at what I looked like that he never came back. My friends? Bah. Most never came at all once they found out the money was going to Jeremy and not me. The few that did come never came back. No, only three people came to see me more than once. One was the Scotland Yard Dick that was assigned to my case. My father had been an important man and they wanted to be sure the accident had actually been an accident. For a while I entertained the idea that he had been assassinated. He was, after all, a right bastard and a horrible father. Not sure he deserved to die like that, though. Still, I could not be definitive enough for the Dick and he stopped coming after four visits. Uncle and Aunt came a couple of times a week. Every week. Uncle is a busy man and sometimes he could not come, but she did. And she was just the secretary assistant back then. I thought at the time he was sending her, but he later told me it was her idea. Some might think I am still broken because of what I do, but I survive. And I enjoy life and living in the now.”

She comes to stand in front of you, somewhat shorter now that she is barefoot. Looking up into your face, she whispers, “I definitely do not want you to go, Peter. I want you to stay. I would like to share life with you, if you will let me. Help me live and I will share all that I have. Be the man that can stand up to me and tell me I am bonkers when you think I am. Tell me my arse looks nice when you think so. Admire my body. Admire my mind. Give me ideas to help us succeed. Live with me, Learn with me. Sleep with me. Make me yours and I can promise you a ride you will never forget. If you are afraid of taking chances, this is the one time to throw caution to the winds and grab the lightning, Peter. Grab the bloody lightning. Grab me and shag me. Make gentle love to me. Make me feel wanted and needed.” Still standing close to you, she reaches a hand to each shoulder and pushes the gown off her, letting it free to fall to the floor and pool at her feet, exposing every inch of her body to you. She seems a bit nervous and bites her lower lip as she stands and waits for you to say something.

[Beta]

As Tanya talked led him into her secret room, and expounded about her plans for an exclusive group of thieves, Preston's thoughts kept up a commentary

* Oleg: a gang of thieves? This is finally making sense.
* Coleman: Do I trust myself to her leadership? This is the prime question to settle.
* Monkey: Sure I do, at least for tonight!
* Gamma: I have always focused on longer-term relationships
* Mo

nkey: Exactly, let me not screw this one up like I did in the past.

As Tanya continued he tried to focus on the what she was saying, but with her standing right there, with so little between them, it was hard. She made some reference that he was too muddled to even search on the matrix. He hadn't drunk much, he didn't think? But with the discreetly attentive servers it was hard to be sure. Maybe it was just that the day had been so much of everything and he still hadn't digested it all? Maybe more coffee would clear his head?

Before he could follow up on that thought, Tanya let her gown fall, and made a proposition of another sort. Preston was gobsmacked, momentarily at a loss for how to react. Instinctively he staggered back a couple of short steps to let him fully scan Tanya's body, and meanwhile the voices in his head exploded into a mental cacaphony.

* Monkey: Don't worry, I got this!
* Coleman: She is trying to cut out any reflection on the decision, this is a classic part of any hussle.
* Monkey: I'm going to hussle over and hug her
* Oleg: I think she likes taking chances, which I
* Monkey: Taking chances is great, and I AM taking this one.
* Coleman: This could be a test to see if I can keep restrained in the face of provocation
* Monkey: She is literally speaking right to ME with that 'forget thinking and go with instinct' bit. If this is a test, it is a test of whether I still have some Monkey in me.
* Gamma: my history of decisions made when following instincts is not exemplary. I am a better person when I take time to reflect.
* Monkey: Screw being a better person. I am SO TIRED of being good.
* Gamma: my overall contentment level has actually b
* Monkey: Shut up! I'm doing this
* Oleg: I am not a dog to respond just because some bi
* Monkey: I am NOT thinking of my new lover like that! No more from you tonight! No more from any of you --me -- we -- whatever.

Preston's mental voices fell silent, replaced with a powerful wave of lust. He'd only just admitted that the day had been overwhelming, and suddenly she was throwing all of this at him, and appealing to his body and demanding a quick decision when he needed time to thi * Monkey: STOP WITH THE THINKING -- I'M DOING THIS. What was this? The whole point of the voices was divorce those drives from his actions, so that he could thin * MONKEY: I SAID NO MORE FRAGGING THINKING -- IT'S ACTION TIME. He needed to * Monkey: YOU CAN DO THAT IN THE MORNING!

* MONKEY DO!

Preston gave his head a small shake, as he staggered slightly. Then he smiled. Or maybe leered.

* "Ook, let's do this"

He stepped forward with a definite touch of swagger, then grabbed Tanya by the hips. He pulled her forward a bit, then before they could kiss he swung her around in a circle, lifting her up off the ground and finally depositing her backside onto the table. He stepped up hard against her as he growled * "You have no idea how much I need this."

[Mercy]

You wake up in an extremely comfortable bed. Your fogged memory gives you a moment to realize that it is not yours before you open your eyes and look around. Your first impression is that the bed is huge, probably the size of some living rooms you have been in. Your second impression is that you are not alone in it. A woman is laying on her stomach next to you, apparently still sleeping. Her flowing red hair is spread across her shoulders. Her naked back is perfectly formed as is her rear and the part of her legs that you can see uncovered by the light silk sheet that is loosely draped across her from about the knees down. You shake your head to clear the cobwebs and can barely remember this woman on her back on top of a large conference table, shapely ankles poised above your shoulders and one or both of you yelling “Oh God!” several times. Probably both of you. After that there is a blur of rooms and furniture, but how you ended up in this bed you do not know. You feel the muscle burn that used to tell you that you have engaged in some serious sexual activity. It has been a while now since your previous similar escapade, but you think that this one was much more active. There is an odd bruise on your outer left thigh and you vaguely recall bumping into something, but have no clear idea what or where. Still, even tired, the site of the naked woman next to you is enough to excite parts of your body.

Before you can act on these growing feelings, the first of several of things happen. The woman next to you wiggles and wakes up, turning to look at you looking at her. Her hair is completely mussed and she has a sheet crease on her right cheek, but when she smiles at you, you have to believe that there is no more beautiful woman anywhere in the world. She says, “Good morning, Peter.” She rolls over onto her back and stretches loudly. “My god, Peter, you are bloody amazing.”

As she says this the door to the bedroom opens and Monique walks in. She says, “Good morning, My Lady, Mr. Preston. Madam, your frock from last night is set to go out, as is your tuxedo, Mr. Preston. I do say, though, that it would have been better form to have removed it all at once instead of a bit in every room you two were in. It was quite the scavenger hunt. I will start the shower." As she walks past, she looks down at you still naked on top of the bed. “Nice. Very nice, indeed, Mr. Preston.” She walks into the bathroom as Tanya slings the sheet up and over your lower torso and hers, leaving the upper torsos exposed. In a voice slightly too loud for the occasion she says, “Must not be giving the hired help any ideas, now, should we?” There is an answering snort from the bathroom then Monique comes back out to stand over the bed. “You have a wall appointment in thirty minutes, My Lady. Should I call down that you will be bringing a guest?”

Tanya looks at you with interest. “Do you wall-climb, Peter? It is great fun and I would love to have you come down. I usually go for a run afterwards. I am sure that we have appropriate clothing for you.”

Monique replies, “Yes, My Lady, we do. I will get something ready while you shower off your evening’s activity.” The maid turns and leaves the room as Tanya climbs on top of you and places her hands on the wall above your head. “I hope that you never tell me that you regret what we did last night, Peter. Even if this does not go where I would like it to, last night was In-Credible. Thank you very much as I needed that so very bloody badly. And I think that you had a good time, too. And now, however much I would dearly love to continue our activity of last night, I have to pee like crazy. Come on, let’s take a shower.”

[Beta]

At first Preston struggles to bring yesterday into focus, and when that fails he settles for trying to bring the present into focus, but that seems to be fairly challenging too.

'My brain feels like an ashtray.' That was somewhat encouraging, at least a thought that came through in words.

Words. That was part of what was missing -- his voices. He stilled his thoughts to make room for them.









That ... didn't seem good. He had to make himself cover the things that his voices normally would. What was first? That was easy enough, self-observation. Physically he felt good, even great, despite some fatigue, bruises, and scratches. Mentally ...

'My brain feels like an ashtray.' That was somewhat encouraging, at least a thought that came through in words. Wait, hadn't he just had that thought? Had he started this once then lost his train of thought?

Thought -- Tanya was asking about something. Climbing? He could remember climbing fences, but not more ambitious items, so he told her that. Except ... Somehow the words didn't seem to come out of his mouth, or if they did nobody else heard them. Half an hour? He could probably do that. Instinctively he touched his link with his thoughts, to check his schedule.

It was off. Why would he have turned it off? Mentally he flicked it back on, then reached up to grab Tanya while she was above him. An echo of last night's lust passed through him, and distantly he felt Monkey

* Monkey: I turned the damn link off. Didn't want distractions.

Oh, right. Monkey had taken charge. No, Monkey was a part of him, it didn't have its own volition. He had let Monkey take charge. That still wasn't quite right. He'd let himself be Monkey. That was it. He'd been the Monkey on his own back? That didn't seem to quite make sense.

Then his link flicked to life, flashing time, weather, appointments and other key information at his thoughts.

Appointments? He checked -- the shape of things on his calendar seemed worrying, and then he put together the meaning. He cursed in his thoughts, then tried again and this time it rattled and banged its way out to his mouth.

"Drek." It sounded more croak than voice, but it would do.

"Appointment. Yesterday, for today. Because job. Clothes? Shower? Fast."

He let Tanya go and starting rolling hiw way toward the edge of the enormous bed, then realized that something was missing in his statement. As he swung his legs over the edge it came to him

"Verbs!" he exclaimed. There, that probably made things much clearer. Then he looked around in befuddlement, trying to figure out where the shower was.

[ Spoiler ]

OOC: I figure that the aftermath of letting the voices in your head take charge would be a bit disorienting, so my apologies if this post is rather dis-jointed. I was trying to have some fun with it, but text really isn't good at getting across tone and cadence, so not sure how well it worked. Although I represent Monkey with words normally, really Monkey is more a matter of primal feelings for the most part, so the previous night he'd not made much use of his higher mental functions, and they are a bit slow coming back on-line. It is also possible that he's on the downside of his caffeine addiction, although that alone would not account for how poorly he's functioning.

In case it was not clear:
- the previous day he'd asked for appointments with his shadow-banker (early in the day) and Korean Gordo (later),
- he has just found out that the earlier appointment is somewhat closer than is comfortable, although he apparently thinks he has time for a fast shower.