Living in the Shadows: IC, your run might be over... Options

[Sedna]

13:40:10 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - at her Puyallup doss

Did I ask you to do anything for me? but the shrug/reticence/what have you isn't even really to the level of a conscious thought.

The purple mist continues to swirl in front of her: bait, huacalli, a door, a grail. A short out-loud laugh at that last: that distraction she doesn't need. So call it a translator; and hope that maybe something closer to a common language exists on the other side. "We're here to help" isn't really a phrase that exists in Alleycat's dictionary.

If this is an astral portal, then that would make the woman a free spirit or something of the same nature. Even someone like Alleycat could step through such a portal, but she'd be placing her complete trust in whoever was holding open the portal. They had but to release it, and she would be dead.

Why not? What have I to lose? No la quiero regar. I'll follow because I've got to track this down and end it, ye tlacua-lo! but esta chica se está saliendo del guacal.

Alleycat grins, and rises, and steps through.

[Sedna]

16:15:12 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

The door isn't locked. Or rather, the lock had never properly re-engaged after having been damaged in the initial break-in.

[banditf50]

16:15:12 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Slowly Virgil pushes the door open, just enough so that the complete dissary of the ransacked apartment is visible from the hallway. Striding back towards the doorway he addresses the women, Doreen is her name, in the tone of a man who is scared, but trying ever so hard not to show it.

"Ma'am it looks like this apartment has been broken into but Jonah does not appear to be home."

Clutching Jeremiah's rosary against his chest . . ."I am going to have to call my bodyguard in here to look around, it's his job to asses the situation and call help if needed. Why don't you go inside and tend to your family."

[Sedna]

16:16:21 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Despite the sharp intake of breath, she doesn't scream, and now she's not going to. (There was a moment, earlier, when it was touch and go.) As she sees the wreckage Doreen's hand goes to her mouth, but all in all she's more controlled than the shaman had been afraid she would be. Now that the two of them are clearly separated from being probable cause, she seems to have accepted them as the relevant authority.

"Ma! Suzy dumped the cat in the toilet tank again."

She doesn't seem to hear. "I was afraid it was something like this," she whispers."

[banditf50]

16:16:43 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Stepping towards Doreen he waves at Dragon through the doorway, indicating the all-clear. Just take it slowly man, and try to look official. More importantly though is the shaken women standing next to him. Not sure whether she would be comfortable with him holding her hand or touching her shoulder, Virgil settles on just a comforting tone.

"Ma'am there isn't much that you or I can do as my bodyguard looks around, but if you know anything that can help us find Jonah I would greatly appreciate your help. . . Perhaps you would feel better sitting down for a moment."

It is not too difficult for Virgil to speak with a genuinely worried tone. Jonah was their only solid link to locating Julia, and her certainly was worried for every moment that anyone associated with Aztechnology could be getting closer to her.

[Scrapheap]

21:49:55 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Loveland Quinn's Bar, Puyallup

As John stepped into the bar's dark interior, he could feel more than hear the 'whir' as his cybereyes adjusted to the bar's lighting. Looking around, he could see a couple of the patrons on the near end of the bar just turning back to their drinks. The place was about half-full; a good crowd for a Sunday.

He took off his ragged Detroit Tigers hat, swiping it against his leg a couple of times to shake the moisture off. Then, making sure that he was on the mat, he stomped his feet to clean his boots of slush. Stepping out of the entryway and unzipping his jacket he heard a deep voice from his left. "Well, well, well. Whazup, OS?"

Standing from the stool he'd been seated on near the door was one of the biggest orcs that John had ever seen. He was so big in fact, that people often mistook him for a troll. His name was Lamont Johnson, but everyone called him Biscuit, and had since he was young. He'd once told John that his sister had started it, saying that he was one biscuit away from fat. He'd played football at U-Dub, middle linebacker, and seemed headed for the pros until he blew out his knee his junior year. John knew that Biscuit went on the occasional run, but only when he needed the cred. Usually, he just worked the door at a couple of bars and nightclubs, including Quinn's.

John's thoughts were interrupted as Biscuit engulfed him in that sort of combo bear-hug/handshake thing that you saw on the street. "Ooof. Easy there big guy. Us old folks have brittle bones. You might break my hip."

His smile displaying an impressive array of tusks, Biscuit replied, "Man, OS, there ain't nuttin brittle bout you." John smiled and shook his head at the nickname. The hulking bouncer had called him "OS" from their first meeting. It meant "Old School" and he said it was a compliment, but John wasn't so sure.

Sitting back down, the big orc continued, "You lookin' for Finn, right? He upstairs, in his office." As John turned and walked away, he called out "Come back down when you done, chummer. I'll be here."

John lit a cigarette as he walked past the bar. The bartender, a pretty brunette named Melinda, smiled when she saw him. She held up a coffee cup and raised an eyebrow, silently asking. He smiled, shook his head, and pointed at the ceiling. Nodding, she sat the cup aside and turned to fill a customer's order.

Rounding the end of the bar, John could see into the back area. Here were a couple of pool tables and some dart machines, as well as a few other games he'd never checked out. Also, further back, were the booths where shadow-business sometimes took place. Finn, the owner of Loveland Quinns, had run the shadows with John back in the early days. Though he was officially retired, he still kept up with the word on the street, and he still had friends. Lots of friends.

With quick glance around, John opened the door to the storeroom, which was located directly behind the bar. Closing the door behind him, he turned and walked down the narrow aisle, boxes of beer bottles and other spirits stacked to either side. At the other end of the small room was a desk with a small lamp and a litter of paper covering the surface. Next to the desk was a door, which he opened to reveal a set of stairs leading up.

[Sedna]

16:17:45 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

"Middle of the night," she whispers, not moving toward the clearly empty and very trashed apartment. "All this noise, woke the kids up. They crawled into bed with me. I was trying to remember if I had put the chain on."

The chain swings gently against the wall in Jonah's apartment, disturbed by the slight movement of the door.

"I was thinking whether to hit the PanicButton when the noise stopped. They charge us a service charge each time we use the PanicButton. Kids fell asleep, but I'm still wide awake. It's just noise, there's always noise somewhere. I had to get some sleep before my shift?"

Now Virgil's noticing the dark shadows under her eyes as she's looking to him for reassurance: did she do right?

[Scrapheap]

21:55:25 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Finn's office, Loveland Quinn's Bar, Puyallup

John stood in the doorway to Finn's office, the light from several monitors reflecting off of his mirrored eye-shields. The room was dimly lit, and most of that from the wall of monitors mounted opposite the door. Several of the screens displayed scrolling code, though the others showed a variety of subjects.

On one, John saw a schematic-like wireframe view of Finn's matrix icon: a cartoon bird, complete with jauntily perched derby hat and stubby cigar. Finn had once shown him a printout of the old cartoon characters that it was based upon, though there had been two birds in that image and they had been black. Though wireframe here, John knew that the icon would be red in the matrix. I wonder if he's making changes to it?

Another screen showed a replay of last night's urban brawl match, and yet more showed various views of the bar below. A couple more showed nothing at all.

Finn himself was seated at his desk in a high-backed pleather chair, slumped back, chin on his chest, thinning reddish hair spilling across his face. Cables spiraled from the chrome jacks in his temple to the sleek deck sitting on his desk. The rest of the desk's surface was covered in scraps of paper, take-out containers, dirty plates and cups, and various electronic parts and tools. A large workbench off to the side contained more tools and more junk, as well as spools of wire and cable. Speaking of cables, they ran everywhere: across the floor and ceiling, up the walls, though the doorway and down the hall. John had no idea what they were all for, and he sometimes wondered if Finn did either.

Crossing the room and taking one of the other chairs, John settled in to wait. Finn was obviously jacked-in and hard at work, so there was no telling when he'd be finished and back in the real world. He watched as his oldest friend slumped in the large office chair, eyes darting beneath closed lids and breath slowly whistling in and out of his large nose. Slowly, John started to relax. He took one last drag, then tossed his smoking cigarette into a half-full coffee cup. Then, he shifted around to get more comfortable, sinking deeper into the chair.

Drek, but I'm beat. Maybe I'll just rest my eyes for a minute. Finn'll probably be done soon. When he jacks-out I'm sure he'll wake me up. I mean, how much longer could he be? It'll be fine...Just rest...my...eyes...

[WinterRat1]

16:17:55 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Catching Virgil’s signal, Dragon quietly enters the building and nods at him. “Sir, I’ll look around and make sure it’s safe. Perhaps if you could talk to the lady and find out what she saw so we can file a proper report?”

Turning to the woman, he nods respectfully. “Ma’am. You did the right thing last night. Don’t worry, everything will be ok. You’re safe, and we’ll take it from here. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Entering Jonah’s apartment, Dragon quickly but carefully begins sweeping it for any clues as to Jonah’s whereabouts, identity, who might have come here, who might know where he went, absolutely anything that might prove useful information.

Gotta make sure I don’t leave any tracks for anyone else to find that might lead them to us. But I gotta find something here, there has to be something to help us At least, I certainly hope so…

[WinterRat1]

?? : ?? : ?? - Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Somewhere Out There

With an equal mixture of trepidation and anticipation, Alleycat steps through the portal into the purple mist. As soon as she’s through, the portal snaps shut behind her, and the world around her fades to black…then white…then green…then blue…then red…then all of them…and then none of them…it’s like she’s everyone at once and nowhere at once.

Finally the world (?) stops changing colors, and she finds herself in a plain, ordinary room. She would swear that suddenly she’s found herself in a plain, boring receptionist room, not unlike what one might find in a typical doctor’s office. There is a secretary sitting behind a desk in a reception booth, ordinary tan chairs line the walls, near a door next to the receptionist office sits a potted plant, and in the middle of the room is a coffee table with magazines.

Only two things tip her off that this is not normal. First, the receptionist behind the desk is the little girl, this time smiling brightly and industriously concentrating on what appears to be a coloring book. Her hair falls to about her shoulders, slightly covering her face when she leans forward, and she has a studious, serious look about her as she carefully concentrates on coloring precisely within the lines. The other odd thing about the office is that Alleycat appears to be standing upside down, on the ceiling.

Before she can say anything, the little girl looks up, smiles brightly, and waves. “Oh hi Miss Talia ! I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry, I know I should pay more attention, but it’s my first day on the job.” The intercom buzzes just then, and a strange voice says, “Please send in our guest dear. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

“OK, Mr. Kitty , let me just get her off the ceiling,” the girl replies, as if it’s perfectly normal that Alleycat is standing on the ceiling. She reaches out and twists some kind of knob, and the room (or is it Alleycat ?) rotates. Except now Alleycat is on the floor and everything else is on the ceiling. Or did the room rotate? It’s hard to tell, and Alleycat decides not to drive herself crazy by wondering.

Frowning, the girl reaches out for a second knob, and twists them both at the same time. This time, both Alleycat and the room rotate, and somehow, they end up with the room right-side up and Alleycat standing on the floor. At least, she thinks so. Regardless, the door is now directly in front of her, and she’s not going to question how the heck this all is working.

“There we go! OK you can go in now!” The girl buzzes open the door, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Alleycat steps through.

On the other side of the door is a cat. Not just any cat though, a giant tiger, about the size of an elephant. This is Mr. Kitty ? Alleycat can’t help but think. Is that little girl nuts? On the other hand, maybe I’m the crazy one here

Mr. Kitty growls at her, a low throaty growl that is clearly a challenge. “Tell me, who are you, and convince me as to why should I let you pass.” he/she/it challenges Alleycat .

[banditf50]

16:18:02 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Not pausing to acknowedge Dragon as moves to inspect the doss Virgil can see that the mercs official-sounding tone has little power to comfort the distressed mother. Looking at Doreen the shaman could not help but think of his own mother. Being a single parent with several children whom you are trying desperately to give a better life too, needing to work long hours just to make ends meet. Living in this type of neighboorhood and under those conditions, Virgil could not blame her for not wanting to get involved. It was noble enough that Doreen seemed to be such a caring mother.

"You did excellent Doreen, it is better that you stayed in bed with your children because the people that might be after Jonah would have very easily harmed you and your family. I admire your courage."

Pausing to keep eye contact with her, Virgil trys to speak with her as if he was talking to his own late-mother.

"Is there anything that I can do to help you and your family right now?"

[Sedna]

16:20:19 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

As Dragon passes by her to begin examining the apartment she shakes her head, a little too quickly. Maybe "courage" was the wrong word to have used. Virgil recognises the pattern of growing fear from the people he'd talked to at the burnt-out gaming house: tempered here with a sense of neighbourly responsibility. Now that Virgil's words have freed her from the paralysis of her contradicting motivations, she's starting to edge toward her own door.

It's a very methodical chaos Dragon discovers. The search for information alone would not have left such a disaster. Even a simple break-in would only have brought about such disorder as is inherent in a quick unearthing of valuables. Only an anticipation of punishment would have been this thorough. He knows before he begins that he's not going to find anything as obvious as a pocket secretary or more archaic rolodex: the people who were here wanted to find Jonah just as much as he does. To discover something new, he'll have to try to place himself in Jonah's shoes or have a stroke of uncanny luck. The first is not Dragon's strong point, not at all; but he's been a soldier far too long to trust to the second, so he sighs and tries to let himself see the place as it once was.

From Doreen's apartment: "Ma! I can't find the flavourings!"

She jumps. "In a minute," she answers automatically, distractedly. "Is there anything else you need from me, sir?"

Sir. Not for the first time, the shaman is uncomfortably reminded of just how far his personal path had taken him from his own roots. I'm still who I always was, he reminds himself firmly. But still, Sir.

"Just one last thing," Virgil says at last, remembering almost too late. "It's important more than ever that I find Jonah." Don't include Dragon, she's still very nervous around him, the kind of nervous that's one breath away from panicked. "Can you remember anything else at all that might help me?"

Once it might have been a very homely place, overturned and splintered suggestions of Japanese monochromatic and angular austerness punctuated with smashed hints of a personal joie de vivre. Even in its current state, the living room is sterile. The kitchen is not: pots, pans, smashed dishes and tomatoes, fridge magnets. Fridge magnets ...

Dragon considers. Littered papers, odd post-its all over the place, most of them quick notes to self: Pick up toilet paper. A torn corner from one of the papers tells him of at least one missing bill: of course they'll be tracing him by his assets. Hmm, no sign of a hurried packing. He never came here at all after leaving the gaming house. That's going to make the trail colder.

Something catches his eye. Frowning, he kneels carefully, trying to avoid leaving any trace (but really, it was hardly avoidable, most of it would be lost in the general chaos anyway), and starts examining more closely the crack between refrigerator and cabinets. Yes, there's almost certainly something back there.

"It was over before 3:30," she says. "I remember, I was wide awake and staring at my clock radio. Maybe I should tell his father what happened. I'm not sure if I should though. Jonah really didn't talk about him much."

[grendel]

21:50:52 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

With a gentleness born of absolute control, Byron lifted Cosmo from her seat, drawing her two tables down before settling next to her along the bench seat. His eyes never left hers, their dark depths now infused with a shimmering delight. Cosmo could read the raw power of his emotions there, could feel them coursing through his skin, and felt as if she were standing too close to a bonfire.

"You are enchanting, exquisite," he says simply, his voice free of artifice but all the more seductive for it. "I was bewitched the moment I saw you. Tell me, sweet Siren, what is your name?"

[Sedna]

?? : ?? : ?? - Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Somewhere Out There

Okaaay, when did I piss off the tiger totem? Don't remember that one ...

Topsy-turviness, Alleycat can deal with. It's just another take on the Matrix. The rule is that normal rules don't apply -- but each domain does have its own rules sure enough. I don't know these, yet. I will.

At that, she grimaces. I suppose they'll call that another version of colouring within the lines. Bet they won't bother to point out that they're the ones that drew them.

Ah well. Door's now in front of her. She'll settle. Magazines would almost certainly be a couple of years old anyway -- and somehow she just knew that if she were to glance at any of them, she'd still find all of its pages blank. Text: now that would be freaky.

"You know who I am," she says back. "If you didn't, I wouldn't be here in the first place. As to why you should let me pass, she's the one what opened the door here. In some circles that passes for an invitation; in others, a command. Either way, it's an ending. So obviously she thinks I should be here. Beyond that, why don't you ask her?"

[Morgannah]

21:51:19 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo felt all but helpless under the potency of Byron's gaze; her first few moments of stunned speechlessness gave way to a giddy rush or girlish delight and finally to the liquid warmth that coiled heavily about her middle, very nearly curling her toes. Of all the men she'd ever known, not one had been able to overwhelm her senses quite like this intoxicatingly beautiful stranger. She shifted somewhat closer to him, content only when forearms, hips, and knees touched and no real distance remained between them. Expressive jade-hued eyes widened as he spoke again, asking a question that had (for her, anyway) a hundred answers.

Back away, girl.

"Meaghan," she breathed, a hint of uncultured brogue slipping in along with a soft sigh. Her cheeks stained a delicate pink. All thoughts of her usual games flew from her mind, replaced by that single burning question.

"Who are you?"

Blushing more deeply as she realized that she had, in fact, asked out loud, Cosmo's gaze dropped to her hands, staring with avid interest at their entwined fingers wondering how she could have lost control of the situation so completely. Even more disturbing was the realization that she cared not at all....

[grendel]

21:51:37 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

"Meaghan." Byron whispers the name, mimicking Cosmo's brogue almost perfectly. He reaches up to brush his fingertips across the blush on her cheeks, his touch featherlight.

"Up until a moment ago, I was searching for something I didn't even know I'd lost. I am a wanderer by nature, a child of the open sky. Now, perhaps, I shall be something else. Byron is the name I answer to most days."

[Morgannah]

21:51:52 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

Glancing up sharply at the sound of her name caressed by such sweet dulcet tones, she smiled charmingly, lightly turning her cheek towards that featherlight touch. It was somehow right that he used her given name rather than the one she'd adopted all those years ago. In truth, she'd missed the sound of it so much that one of her aliases had been created specifically to fill that void.

Cosmo's fingers itched to touch a satiny curl as it fell across his forehead, artlessly casting a shadow over one eye. A small voice in the back of her mind warned that there was danger here. But his voice held my spirit with a strange sweet sound....

"Byron," she inclined her head, a dimple peeking shyly from each cheek. "What would you be now?" What else have you been called?

[grendel]

21:52:06 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

"A gentleman, if you desire; a scoundrel, if you ask; a friend and confidant, if such be needed. In everything, though, a servant to your beauty. I would be honored if you joined me for dinner tonight, fair Meaghan."

Byron's gaze turns from where his fingers still caress her cheek, to meet Cosmo's stare. The power of his dark soul pours fourth, utterly confident in her answer even before he's asked the question.

[Morgannah]

21:52:28 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo's smile deepened, that small voice in the back of her mind growing quieter and quieter under the sheer force of Byron's personality.

Say no! Schedule for another night if you have to, girl, but not tonight. Give yourself time to breathe, to recover, time to think this over. 'Tino is still waiting for you at the other table, he....

"I will bear that all in mind," a mischevious light sparkles in her eyes as she gazes up at him, feeling so small, so .. delicate in such a powerful presence. She wondered for a second what he would do if she said 'no' but the thought of being separated from this irresistible man was absolutely unbearable. Opening her mouth to accept, she found that no words would come, none that would do justice to the elated rush of emotion that finally coursed, unimpeded, throughout her.

"Dinner would be heavenly." She finished breathlessly, suddenly hungrier than she'd ever been.

[WinterRat1]

16:21:19 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building


Quietly, so as not to distub Virgil's conversation with the woman, Dragon attempts to move the refridgerator so as to get whatever is lying between the fridge and the cabinets.

Almost absently as well, he grabs a bill as well. If they're going to try to track him through his assets, it wouldn't hurt us to try the same trick as well. Still, I want to see what is back here. That could be extremely useful and just might be the break we need...

Working his way back towards the crack, he attempts to retrieve or examine whatever is back there.

[WinterRat1]

?? : ?? : ?? - Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Somewhere Out There

The tiger laughs, a cold, mocking sound. "I was not asking for my benefit, but for yours. I know who you are, but I can see that you still do not. You answer my question with the arrogance of one who presumes knowledge to conceal the lack of it. Still, you are not here for the reasons you think you are, and you do not even know where 'here' is, do you?"

The tiger shakes his head and purrs. "You have no clue as to who you are, but I can see that your pursuit of that knowledge will only continue to frustrate you, thanks in no small parts to your own arrogance and inability to face your shortcomings. Still, if you should choose to engage in a self-destructive cycle of self-delusion, who am I to stop you?"

He/she/it snorts, and concludes, "In any event, you have a choice. Pick a door, and seek your answers. If you have the courage, that is."

The tiger waves, and seven doors appear behind me in an arc. On each door is a question. In order, from left to right, the doors read:

1. Who are you?
2. What do you love the most?
3. What do you understand the least?
4. What do you most wish to be?
5. What do you wish most NOT to be?
6. What do you want most NOT to face?
7. What do you want to face the most?

The tiger chuckles one last time and disappears, but its voice lingers, "There is always one more door, should you choose it." A door appears again behind Alleycat, and she already knows what the voice will say next. "The way you came in."

Great...I feel like a mouse in a maze. And I'm sure as frag getting sick of all these games. Still, the question now is, which door do I pick?

[grendel]

21:52:47 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Il Grano Restaurant, Los Angeles, CFS

Byron smiles, delight suffusing his face. Glancing back over his shoulder, he nods to the waiter. Menus appear, as well as place settings, water and wine glasses. Byron swirls the merlot in his glass, sampling the boquet. His posture is relaxed, yet he is in complete control of the situation.

"Tell me, sweet Meaghan, tell me everything about yourself."

[Sedna]

16:22:53 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Almost at once Dragon realises that it won't be hard to move the fridge. It will just be almost impossible to do so without leaving traces of his entry. As he considers, he glances at the paper he'd absently picked up; and realises it isn't a bill after all, just a promotional advertisement for switching long distance companies. His precedessors through the apartment had been thorough: that corner he'd spotted earlier was all that was left of any financial statement.

[Sedna]

?? : ?? : ?? - Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Somewhere Out There

I always hated these kinds of tests, even if I've learned most of them well enough to get whatever answer I want out of them. "You are not here for the reasons you think you are": what the hell does that mean anyway? As long as I'm playing by their rules though, I've got to come up with the answer they want -- and I've no clue what that is. Just look at these questions! Self-evident, much?

And they call me arrogant. At least I've earned the fragging right.

Choices, choices, choices.

Well, the way she'd come in wasn't a viable choice: solved nothing. Close that one off. Let's look at the others:

[WinterRat1]

16:23:05 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Auburn, Jonah's building

Damn, and it seemed like such a good idea too. Still, if those guys were pros, then it stands to reason that they’d have taken all the financials with them, so I couldn’t pull the same trick. Well that tears it then, I’m definitely going to have to look behind the fridge and hope that whatever leads are back there are enough to make up for whatever the bad guys got from this place that we didn’t. Hopefully it won’t leave too much trace of our presence, but what the hell can we do, huh? I’ll just move it back when I’m done.

Quietly, Dragon moves the fridge to give himself access to whatever is in the crack between it and the cabinets, and examines what is back there, keeping a wary eye out for any potential traps that might have been placed there, ready to fling himself out of the way at a moment’s notice…just in case.