Behind the Crown [IC], Behind the crown are shadows Options

[pbangarth]

Well, now. Things are a tiny bit clearer. But, if PP is supposed to deliver once even one is developed, then what about that thing that has been watching Blue? That sure fits the physical description. Time to check that serpent out again.

Blue waits to be sure his energies are recharged again. No point going back astral before his timer has reset. He checks the time left before dawn comes.

Then he lies back on the bed all comfy and snuggled, and leaves the weak flesh behind, strong spirit soaring towards the facility once again. He plans to approach it carefully, looking for the serpent in the display from afar, first.

[Koekepan]

Hovering in the astral, far from the thumping bass of his pad, Blue considers the serpent in the front of Petsonal Petsonalities. It definitely looks like a pit viper, not a python. Now, Blue isn't a herpetologist, so he'd have to rely on other sources to identify the thing's species, but on the other hand getting stabbed with a tooth a foot long would hurt as well.

[pbangarth]

Blue has been distracted by a couple of other issues the last couple of days, and feels a bit of pressure to figure out what is going on, what he is really supposed to prove. True, he has a two week contract, but who knows how long it will take to figure things out?

A stakeout on your own is a pain in the hoop. How can one possibly cover the subject 24/7?

The messy attempt to learn about the girl frustrated Blue.

He feels guilty about Madel.

All those factors militate for precipitous action. Fortunately, Blue has a will-of-steel. He decides to sniff carefully. The plans he has for the layout are almost certainly out of date, but he decides to make a foray inside at a location most likely to be offices. Maybe there will be some activity going on that will suggest imminent shipment.

[ Spoiler ]

Spell pool all (10) allocated to spell defense.

[Koekepan]

Blue slides his way into the building without much trouble. It's not as if it were all warded (which he already knew).

Indoors, in a small office area, it looks pretty unsurprising. Not too bad, really. It's not a place of torment, anyway. More to the point, there are no barghests or similar immediately pouncing on him, which is naturally a relief.

But an absence of barghests doesn't mean an absence of activity; on the contrary, there are quite a few critters in evidence. One looks rather like a parrot that cocks its head at Blue and says: :::Polly wants a cracker. Or equivalent in negotiable cash or commodities.::: It shuffles along a cubicle wall and raises one claw to scratch under its beak.

[pbangarth]

Blue is taken aback for a moment. Is that bird actually talking to him? Soon, he comes to the conclusion that the parrot is ... parroting things it must have heard in the business center of the facility. But the fact that it can do so in the astral is a revelation. Blue had always assumed that such mimicking was essentially a vocal phenomenon. Yet here it is, in the astral.

+++ I bet there is a paper in that. +++

Sticking close to the ceiling, in case something on legs decides to come by, Blue tests the bird.

::: Where's the snake? Where's the snake? :::

[Koekepan]

The parrot tilts its head, eyeing Blue. Its iridescent feathers slowly shift colours, as if reflecting a rainbow passing over.

:::Crackers, chummer. Crackers, or currency. Or I scream.:::

It gives a brief, intense :::RAWK::: before making a chuckling sound and adding :::I can be much, much louder than that.:::

Even that brief squawk appears to have had an effect, because there's a rustle of activity, and Blue feels eyes upon him from shaded corners and gaps between ceiling tiles. What he had taken to be a decoration on an astral desk opens dozens of eyes on stalks like the tentacles of an anemone, and looks around with cornflower-blue pupils at everything. Behind a door, something chuffs and whines.

[pbangarth]

+++ Note to self: I really have to spend some effort learning about paranimals. +++

Well, this is an interesting turn of events. There appears to be actual communication going on here. How far can Blue push this?

::: I don't think crackers work on the astral plane. What kind of currency are you talking about? And how much? :::

He pays attention to the various motions and (?) sounds (?) and marks the quickest way back out of the building.

[Koekepan]

:::Cash money, monkey. Cash. Bring it in here so I can buy myself free. Otherwise, a bag of cashews the size of your head. I like cashews. Unsalted. The real deal, too, not your fake soy drek. Or did you come in here with empty pockets?:::

That final question sounds like a challenge - or a threat. Apparently this parrot has ambitions that relate to either hedonism, or emancipation.

Then again, it's stuck in here and it's winter outside.

[pbangarth]

Negotiating a fee, either cash or the alliterative nut, for ... what? Buying its silence? ... with a parrot ... in the astral. It's that kind of night.

::: So, how much cash do you need to buy your way out? :::

+++ I bet this is going to be the price to buy the damn thing from Petsonal. +++

[Koekepan]

:::Now we're talking!:::

The parrot flap-flops down from the cubicle wall onto the astral shadow of a cubicle chair, and looks up at Blue bird-fashion, with head tilted to one side.

:::It can't be nuyen, because I need cash. I can take Ares scrip, five kiloarrows. Or I can take a hundred and fifty grams of gold. Pure gold. The good stuff. Or ... if you think you can hook it up ... nah. Forget it. Gold or scrip.:::

[pbangarth]

Despite himself, Blue is beginning to like this bird. Not that he could come up with fifty grams of gold, but charisma is charisma, and the parrot has it.

::: Come on. You were thinking of something else. What is it? What could I hook up for you? :::

[Koekepan]

The astral parrot (or is it dual-natured?) whistles a whoop, and cleans its beak. Then it says: :::OK, wise guy. Drachmas. Everything round here works on drachmas. Fraggin' greeks, man. Five hundred drachmas and I'm out of here like a swallow in the breeze.:::

It flap-jumps back onto the cubicle wall, spreads its wings like a moving rainbow, and shrieks: :::DRACHMAS!:::

[pbangarth]

As the shriek rings in Blue's astral ears, he zips at top speed out of the building along the route he planned a moment ago. Assuming he gets outside without incident, he flies back home to his meat body. Reintegrating, he scratches an itch onthe top of his head. +++ Was that thing playing me, or what? +++

Blue looks up the current conversion rate for drachmas. Just because.

[Koekepan]

Drachmas are, as such, presently only of interest to numismatists, and the surviving coinage (such as it ever was) is hard to come by except at prices that dwarf its value in nuyen terms.

Besides, what possible value could drachmas as such have to the bird? If it wants negotiable commodities, cashews would be more likely - unless it intended to eat them anyway.

[pbangarth]

+++ Yeah, the bird was having some fun with me. +++

Blue considers the situation so far. He has been contracted to do some surveillance on a facility to see if the business is on the up and up. But, surveillance is credible only if it is unbroken. How does one person cover a site 24/7? His kind of spirits are not the kind he can send off to watch for him. Watchers just won't do, either. They don't last long enough.

But, what if he were able to reside in the facility for the duration of his contract? Summon a hearth spirit for while he sleeps? What a crazy idea. Why on Earth would they be amenable to such an arrangement?

He needs to think about this some more.

[Koekepan]

Slowly as a slug creeping across his cortex, the idea infiltrates Blue's mind that it makes little sense for a Seattle-sounding parrot-thing to worry about Hellas. However, there is a group in this immediate area, with direct involvement with the area where he found the parrot, with a mangled greek name.

What if they were using something they call drachmas, for some reason? It would be ludicrous - but at least consistently ludicrous. And the bird seems to care about buying some kind of freedom.

[pbangarth]

Blue strikes palm to forehead. +++ How could I have missed that connection the instant the bird said it? +++ Of course, why on Earth would the bird know anything about such things? And how the hell can such a beast be intelligent enough to converse about ancient Greek coins and freedom? What are they doing in that place?

He gathers the documents he has at hand and searches for a couple of things.

Is there any mention in the contract or in the communications between PoliDemos and Petsonal Petsonalities about something called 'drachmas'?

Is there mention in the documents of the location of PoliDemos, or where the paranimals are to be delivered?

[Koekepan]

Now we may be getting somewhere.

A quick text search reveals that drachmas do indeed pop up in the contract, in precisely one place: the boilerplate in the (several pages long) densely packed section on definitions in the contract. The contract defines various forms of acceptable payment; strictly and only commodity-backed currencies (which the Nuyen is not) or something called Pidelta Drachmas.

A reverse search tracking down mentions of acceptable payment reveals a few mentions; nowhere does it get frightfully specific, but it does stipulate a few cases where if Petsonal somehow does damage to PoliDemos, that restitution would be required in an acceptable form of payment. There's a table referring to weregild (because apparently cultural consistency isn't a concern) and the numbers are stated in terms of a few alternatives, but there are a few weird symbols involved. One of them might be the drachma - or not. This is clearly a rabbithole of some depth.

At any rate, the question of delivery is pretty straightforward: a representative of PoliDemos will show up and take delivery in person. Really. This appears to be the one and only straightforward thing about this stupid document.

And who knows whether that ever happened? Not Blue.

[pbangarth]

Blue searches the texts to determine how one actually identifies himself to P.P. as a representative of PD, like, could someone just walk to the front door and say, "Hi. I'm from you know who. I'd like your atavophid basilisks now, please." Not likely.

While doing so, in a back channel he processes what he has found. His ancient Greek studies didn't go all that deep, but one of the first things one learns in any new language is the numbering system. +++ ΠΔ. That's 50. 50 Drachma coins. I wonder if that's how you identify yourself. +++

At yet another level of processing, Blue remembers something from those old 2-D ... videos? ... he ran across at school. What was that guy's, name? The assassin. Candle? No... Wick. John Wick. Seven or eight in the series. Special coins to buy one's way in, or special consideration.

[Koekepan]

The contract doesn't actually stipulate a means of recognition. Perhaps the PoliDemos representative will be personally known to the people at Petsonal?

On the other hand, come to think of it, Blue never really got a good explanation of why PoliDemos might think that Petsonal would have been holding something back. Generic suspicion? Lower delivery numbers than expected? A mole inside Petsonal Petsonalities? Seeing these things in the hands of others?

The whole thing is fishier than the waters of the Sound, at this rate, and Blue (having admittedly not done an exhaustive search) didn't see a place crawling with awakened, atavistic pythons either. So why would PoliDemos have decided to crack open the warchest to the tune of thousands, to send Blue on what is looking like either a wild goose chase, or an exercise in unjustified paranoia?

Does PoliDemos think that Petsonal is deliberately sitting on a vast clutch of awakened snakes, just because they can?

[pbangarth]

Blue is getting snippets of ideas and clues, but it seems as if he is slogging through thick mud towards a goal he doesn't see or really know. He needs to learn more but isn't at all sure how to go about it. Surely zipping astrally into that hive of paranimals will sooner or later backfire. And what's with the water element? He still hasn't figured that out. One way or another, he has to learn more about the particulars of the contract, and he has to learn more about the facility. Yeah, another foray tonight, and let's hope he doesn't crash into something ugly.

But first, maybe he can get some guidance, or at least some peace of mind to help him focus. He sits on the bed, back against the wall and legs crossed. Maybe a scene in some trid about someone meditating suggested this. He stills his mind, and calls to his Totem. Sometimes, they actually answer.

::: Owl, guide of my life. I am at an impasse. I seek knowledge, but clouds of confusion and misinformation, and the glare of daylight hinder my vision. I am alone and feel blocked on all sides. Help me, please. Help me find the way. I trust your wisdom and follow you without question. ::::

[Koekepan]

:::Little hunter, faithful to the tribe, when you stoop and your talons are full of leaves and dirt, the lesson must be that what you thought you saw was an illusion. But if you flew from the wrist of a guide, what can be wrong, other than the words and vision of that guide? Do not blame yourself when you took flight at the urging of another.:::

[Koekepan]

Karmakaze is standing quietly in the corner of a Stuffer Shack XL in Auburn. One can tell that it's an XL location because the branding won't let one forget it. So many of the goods inside are also XL. A pack of krill puffs in XL size probably has a similar volume to her torso, for example. And then her 'link announces a message from Jaxx.

<<< Heyyyyyy, Karmawarma. You there? I know life is expensive, but I come through with paying opportunities. Or did you win the big score already?>>>

Karmakaze can guess that Jaxx has been indulging one of his little habits again. But that's the price of living among lowlifes, and at least when it comes to biz he's serious. What is it this time? Good old fashioned amphetamines, or something else? He certainly seems upbeat and cocky. Something ending in -aine?

But paying attention to a 'link isn't a bad cover for dawdling in the 'Shack while waiting for a pathetically stupid serial shoplifter to come in and head straight for the cans of reconstituted meat byproduct, imaginatively titled Pro-tiiin. He's an ork, maybe 120kg of sweat, tusks and muscle shirted intimidation. He unrolls a cloth bag and starts packing cans into it. Who's gonna stop him? The walking greasepimple behind the bulletproof glass?

[Bastard]

<<< Send me the when and where. I will be there. > > > Karmakaze replies quickly. Her left hand is on her pistol resting at her hip, but her right hand is occupied by the poorly timed message.

She then uses the comm to record a short video of the criminal act, at least enough to get some quality footage of his face and packing the bag. Stuffer Shacks, XL or otherwise, usually have drekfest quality video surveillance systems. Returning the link to her pocket, she then gets her other firearm, this one on her right hip, ready for drawing.

[pbangarth]

Blue opens his eyes and lets out a tiny chuckle. +++ Owl must be taking pity on me. This message was less cryptic than many before. +++

There isn't much time left to the night, so he doesn't plan to do anything serious. Mr. Johnson said observe. That's what he's paying for. So that's what Blue will do till dawn arrives, and for as much time after dawn as he can afford before he must return to his body.

Blue stretches out on the bed, yet again, and projects into the astral. He flies to the facility and sets up a pattern of flight above it, trying to get a view of all possible exits. Maybe something more will come to him about those things on the loading dock. Maybe a vehicle will leave and he can follow it. Maybe nothing at all will happen.

Keeping alert, keeping his magic tuned to protect against a sudden attack, keeping on the move. Drifting over the urban landscape, silent and vigilant. Ready for the mouse to move.