IC: Vein of Truth, An adventure into the wilds Options

[JaronK]

Big team... what kind of job needs a whole damn squad? And half these guys are drunk or crazy. Now or never though, eh?

Raven waited in the corner until the first of the team headed through the door. Silently activating his wired reflexes, he reached over and slung his olive green duffel bag over his shoulder and followed down into the back room. Upon entering, he sized up the Johnson, then took his place in one of the southern seats where he'd have a good view of the door. He placed the duffle bag next to him neatly, then, seeing no ambush just yet, let the reflexes turn off. He waited silently, eyes flicking from person to person, appraising each one in turn.

[tisoz]

Skeeter wanted to warn the lady not to lean her chair back on two legs, but something about the way she looked at him made him keep quiet and hope she would fall. That would be funny. Then he saw the but of the pistol, and his mind switched tracks.

Sammy always told Skeeter "you are not to play with my guns", and Skeeter didn't have one of his own to play with. But this wasn't Sammy's gun. He wondered if the elf lady would let him play with her's. Probably not, she looked mean. Maybe it was just the way she looked at Skeeter, like he wasn't worth more than a sack of poo. No, she wasn't going to be his girlfriend, either.

When Fredrick is leaving, Skeeter says, "You be careful, too, Fred-rick," remembers something Sammy is always telling him and adds, "and be sure to buckle up." Hah ha, Fredrick was only nice enough to speak to him. Not to the mean elf lady. Hah ha.

Wearing a big toothy grin, Skeeter heads for the spiral staircase. He had suppressed the urge to bound up and down it when he saw it on his trip to the restroom after his fifth Redpop. Redpop was good, it tasted like strawberries. Now he was going to get to use the spiral stairs. But the mean elf lady brushed past him, heading toward the bar. She had been quick to get in front of him to go downstairs, now she bumps him to go get a drink.

Skeeter noticed her slight tremble. Was she cold? She shouldn't be, she looked dressed warm enough. Maybe she was scared, and he felt a little warmer toward her. But there was those stairs!

He looked in fascination at how one end of the step was wide enough to comfortably stand on, but the other end, the one toward the center, dwindled to nothing. It would be fun to see how little of the tread he could use. He wondered if he turned around backwards and held the center pole, if he could skid his feet down the pole, bumping along the almost not there treads. No. Better not. Must act professional. But Skeeter couldn't resist backing up the next to last step just before he got all the way down, extending the fun just a little.

He walked through the storage room, temporarily distracted by all the "stuff". But none of it seemed to neat as he drifted with the stream going into the next room. Then Skeeter saw the chairs with rollers at either end of the table. Oh no! The people ahead of him were grabbing all the rolling chairs over toward the wall. Skeeter hurried and snagged one of the rolling chairs on the side of the room facing the river. He spun around in it once, taking in the view, and as he came back around to the table, remembered how the bartender had looked at him when he spun the barstool and reminded himself to act professional.

Man, this is a big table. I wonder how they got it in here? Not down that staircase, that's for sure. Maybe it was here when they built the building. Or maybe magic. Yeah, it's probably a magic table.

Skeeter very professionally watched the other runners come in, and was quiet for Mr. Johnson. He wondered if all the Mr. Johnsons he had met were related. They didn't look related, not really. It was really odd to him how they were all called Mr. Johnson, what a coincidence. Skeeter smiled at the Johnson as he thought about the odds of another employer being named Johnson. He could smile and still be professional, right? Yes, he could smile and still be professional, not like all the other grim, mean, tough looking people in the room.

[crechebaby]

Brand watched the others filter in, and Fredrick leave, with distracted interest before heading downstairs at around 1900.
She was mentally cataloguing everyone, but not really drawing too many conclusions. It was always hard to be accurate this early on.

She grinned at the kid playing on the stairs as she passed him. He had to have a mind of a six year old. She wondered what else he had up his sleeve. Then there was the absolutely stunning raven haired elf. Brand herself didn't generally have tendencies in that direction, but could still appreciate a pretty face. The girl really looked like she thought she was something. But then again, perhaps she was. Only time would tell.

Brand settled into a comfortable corner seat not far from the idiot, allowing herself some amusement at his unabashed childishness. A bit refreshing, really, from all of the self importance and seriousness these little stare-downs usually exuded. She only hoped he had what it took when the time came.

These little meetings always went exactly the same way. The formula was rehearsed, or sacred, or both. The same words, the same attitudes, the same outcomes. Brand had, on more than one occasion, had to fight the impulse to whip up a little something "special" just to spice things up. Even now, as she leaned back in her chair and propped her heavy black boots up on the table, she felt like looking over at the Johnson and saying "Hit it!"

Maybe he would give her points for originality. Then again, maybe not.

[TinkerGnome]

After a few moments of awkward silence, the Johnson takes a seat on the opposite end of the table and his bodyguard takes the seat beside him. He waits patiently for the last stragglers to come in and be seated, and once he's done so, he very matter-of-factly nods.

"I have a matter I wish resolved, and resolved quickly." He pauses to look at each and every face around the table before continuing. "I have information that a certain location may have significant exploitable resources. Those resources were likely overlooked by previous and current occupants of the area. For political reasons, I cannot send an overt team to survey the area."

"I don't expect this task to be overly dangerous, but the speed of its completion is of the utmost importance. I am able to offer you 20,000 :nuyen: for operating expenses and 1% of the total value of what you find."

He pauses to allow the offer to sink in.

[tisoz]

Skeeter thinks he understood Mr. Johnson's big words, but it is hard to tell if it is a good offer. After all, Skeeter is no math-a-magician. He looks around at the other runners and waits to see what they think.

[JaronK]

Raven thinks for a moment.

Survey team? A covert survey team would require a small number of people, all easily able to use stealth to the utmost. He's hiring a full squad here and they don't look designed for stealthy recon...

He waits to see if anyone else will pipe up before he does.

[Panzergeist]

Swift Eagle isn't so sure about the lack of combat. "The Amerind tribes get kind of pissd of about mining. Even if this job isn't illegal, which I assume it is, eco-vigilantes might be a problem."

[Number 6]

Hellcow looks at the Johnson with a puzzled look.

"That's an.....interesting offer. However i'm not sure of our capability of removing, or even estimating natural resources. I don't know about my fellows, but I am not a miner or logger."

The elf's brow crinkles. What a strange, and so far vague mission.

"Maybe I just don't get it but, the vectors don't seem to work well together. Removing natural resources isn't something usually associated with speed and secrecy. On top of that, most operations can take years to complete. How are you proposing to pay us that 1%? Installments over the next several years? Or company stock? I'm sorry, but I really think we need more info on the job before we can even begin to talk price."

The elf looks mournful, apologetic, as he scans his companions for reassurance and settles his eyes on the Johnson.

[Chance359]

Sedryk watches Fredrick leave the table and head to the door. Slowly he rises and heads to the bar, ordering a straight shot of whiskey. He lets the burn travel down his throat, calling him, making him strong and sure.

Without thinking, he lights a slim black cigarette and begins working the burning flick-stick between his fingers. As he descends the staircase he watches the man spinning on the chair. Reminds me of Chuck from back in the home.

After hearing Mr. Johnson's offer a slew of questions form in Sedryks head. "Are we to bring back a sample of what ever it is we are looking for?"

[Beast of Revolut...]

Thor sees the glaring problem with this payment plan. "Surveyors can only find a small sample of the stuff in an area. You won't really know how much mineral wealth there is until you've built a mine. Are you proposing to stay in contact with us, possibly for years after this run, paying us installments every month or so equal to one percent of your profits? That takes a lot of trust on our part, and it would really hurt your ability to deny having hired us for this run."

[A Rodent of Unus...]

BELFAST
October 12th, 2061, 7:59:47pm

The time was ticking down until the meet at the Bear & Owl was planned to take place. At the very last minute, the front door opened up to reveal the silhouette of a lone figure stepping out of the rain.

He was dressed in pair of well-worn blue jeans, brown hiking boots that've seen better days, a heavy black turtleneck, and an equally black naval peacoat. As the stranger came further into the smoke-filled light of the pub, his features revealed him to be an attractive but otherwise humdrum young man with brown hair and eyes. He walked up to the bar in between a tribesman and a smuggler -- it was odd, but he looked like he could fit in just as easily with either one even though it was obvious he was neither. So much so that neither even seemed to notice his presence.

"What can I do for ya, bub," the bartender piped up.

"Just call me Belfast. And hmm, let's see. I think I'll have a scotch and water, but hold the scotch," the stranger replied as he flashed a charming smile.

The bartender gave a gruff nod and turned to get started on the drink, but paused and looked over his shoulder. "Was that a joke?"

"Yeah," Bel replied, his smile evolving into a wry grin as he leaned forward to whisper. "I just didn't want anyone thinking I was a pussy."

The bartender just gave a quick laugh as he brought a scotch glass up and slammed it on the bar. It was filled with a substance that probably passed for water in this neighborhood, but whose brown color might just pass as a hard drink if anyone took a careful look. He grabbed a handful of ice and dropped it in before sliding the glass forward. "That'll be ten bucks. How'd ya like that punchline, 'Belfast?' Ha!"

Bel let a quick laugh escape his lips as he pulls out a small roll of corporate script and tears off two bills. "I see I've met my match," was his only response as he slid the two fives across the bar and took the glass.

He turned around and leaned against the bar as he watched a few less-than-savory individuals begin to make their way downstairs. Recognizing his own breed, Bel was quick to figure that the meeting must be taking place wherever these bubbers were heading, so he decided to do the same.

"All right, Red Tom, time to get on the clock. You know the routine," he thought, sending the telepathic message to the leprechaun familiar sitting on his astral shoulder as he made his way down the spiral staircase. He could sense Elizabeth following close behind while peppering Red Tom with question after question, her eyes filled with wonder at all the macabre things she was assensing from her sheltered perspective.

"Aye, lad, of course I be knowin' it! You'll be the first one to know if anything's amiss. Now if you don't mind, I need to shut up this bleedin' witch you invited along 'fore she drives me barmy!" Although Bel couldn't see it, he had a sneaking suspicion Red Tom was looking around for a cork...

Bel appeared at the entrace of the room where the meet was taking place. Only two seats were still available, and he quickly scanned each of them to see who he'd be sitting next to.

"Hmm," he thought to himself, "decisions, decisions. Do I want to sit next to what looks to be a complete and total idiot, or do I want to sit next to the hot brunette over th... oh wait, she's a fookin' elf. That's gonna make it tough afterall. Lesse: Idiot... elves... idiot... elves... idiot... elves... The whole world's against me."

"Oh fer Christ's sake you pansy, just sit next to the hottie," Red Tom interupted. "Quit being such a baby. 'Boo hoo, the elves stole my homeland.' Just look'it her for cryin' out loud! So grow a pair already!"

"Feh! Fine, just shut up and get back to doing what you do," he retorted. Then, with a determined sigh that never manifests in the physical realm, Bel unfastens his peacoat enough to reveal that he's packing a bit of heat before taking the wooden seat next to Raven.

He flashed a polite smile but before he could say anything to her, the Johnson appeared and made his proposition. When he was done, and after the others asked what appeared to be rather odd questions, Bel asked only one thing in his heavy Irish accent.

"Could you be a bit more specific?"

[Panzergeist]

"How deep do you want us to explore?" Swift Eagle asks.

[JaronK]

"Alright, let's slow down a moment" Raven says, removing his sunglasses and leaning in to the table. "Now, we're going to need to know a good bit more before we can even consider that offer. We need to know expected resistance and or security levels in the target area. We need to know the estimated value of the substance we're prosepecting for. Without any idea of the difficulty of the mission, nor of the expected returns, you can hardly expect us to jump on board. Plus, given the size of the team you've assembled here, you're only offering us 1,000 nuyen for every million you make... assuming there's actually something there. So, what we need to know, before even expressing interest, is the following."

Raven draws himself up, observing the Johnson's reaction to his statements as he continues, remaining buisinesslike the whole time.

"A. What is the expected value of the resources in question? B, who will deterimine the value, once found? C, what is the time period for this payment plan? Is this really something that we'll know the total value of instantly, or is this a long term operation we're setting up? If so, calculation of the resource value will take time, which means a payment over time plan, something I think few 'runners would appreciate. D, what is the relative resistance ability of the natives? E, when you say speed is of the essence, what is the time table here? Will we have time to shop for supplies or are sending us directly out? F, if nothing is found, what payment will we recieve? I know I'm not sticking my neck out if the result could be no payment because your intelligence on the area was inconclusive.

Once we know these things, we reasonably consider your offer. Of course, if you wish to divuldge further information, such as the exact target region and the resource in question, that would help us towards a descision."

The elf's eyes remain on the Johnson, his face still nuetral and professional.

[TinkerGnome]

The Johnson answered the questions as they were raised. All of the issues coming up had apparently been though of, at least in passing, beforehand.

[Shadow]

Raven's eyebrows peak at the mention of the large some of money. From her position in the corner she watched everyone else’s reaction. She figured no one would back out. Not with that sum of money on the table. Of course, with the J offering that much money the odds of them all surviving this run were less than good.

She gave a half smile to the man, apparently the only human on the team, to her side. She piped up in her cool contralto.

"I'm in."

[crechebaby]

Brand's eyes flickered towards the attractive young man that entered and seated himself ingratiatingly next to the beautiful raven-haired girl. Brand's arms were crossed over her chest as she watched the Faces do their back and forth over the toes of her propped up boots.

She picked up one strand of long, straight red hair and squinted at it, examining for split ends.

Resources, this. Estimates, that. Blah, blah blah. The only time a flicker of interest crossed her face is when it occurred to her that the might have to blow this stuff out of the ground. But no, this was not a mining expedition. Then, perhaps, they would have to blow something OFF of it. Or someone. There was bound to be some resistance. One could only hope.

[A Rodent of Unus...]

A smile most curious found its way onto Belfast's face, and it only increased two-fold when Raven agreed to the run.

"Count me in, too" was his only reply as he did his best not to notice the redhead's attention while he fumes a bit about not only sitting next to an elf, but having another one checking out his package as if she worked for FedEx.

[Panzergeist]

"I'm in," Swift Eagle says after a moment of contemplation. If they found as much as the Johnson was expecting, this could work out to several hundred grand each. They would probably run into some unexpected difficulties, but that was to be expected, so to speak. in any high-paying run.

[tisoz]

Skeeter had trouble following all the conversation, but that last part about 5000 :nuyen: he understood. "Me, too," he said through a grin a bit more toothy than everyone elses.

[JaronK]

Raven sits back for a moment and considers, calculating numbers and attempting to read any last information he can from the Johnson's face. He nods slowly for a moment.

"That sounds reasonable. Alright. I'm in."

He leans back, relaxing a bit, surveying the other members of the team.

[Beast of Revolut...]

Thor states his agreement. "I'm in." Once everyone has assented or left the meet, he adds "Now what kind of stuff are we looking for exactly? If it's radioactive, or toxic, we'll need to make sure we wear protective gear."

[Number 6]

[Chance359]

Sedryk sits quietly working the cigarette between his fingers, ocasionally taking a puff off of it. "I'm in" he replies grinding the cigarette into the ash tray.

[FXcalibur]

Evans had been listening intently for some time. He couldn't think up much to say; his whole life he's reacted to whatever events life threw his way, and, well, forethought wasn't exactly his strong point.

Evans rubbed his brow as the rest of the team threw their questions forward. Something didn't feel right, as always. Well, not much left to do but sit through the meeting. It's not like anybody else noticed him when he slinked in (almost) late.

Well, he needed the money anyway.

"I'm in."

[crechebaby]

Brand's mind had been made up fairly early on. The money itself was more or less a non-issue. Usually, the only thing that could get her to turn down a run was blatant idiocy on the part of the Johnson or the team. And while there were some flickerings of idiocy here and there--not counting the kid--it didn't seem to be anything she couldn't handle.

She droppd the strand of hair she'd been examining and raised one slender hand.

"Done."