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

[Morgannah]

11:02:50 Friday 05 January 2063 - Parking Structure 2, Santa Monica Promenade, Los Angeles, CFS

"Ka. I'll find you when I'm clear."

Simple gratitude was obvious in her voice despite its cool, clipped tone. This is what happens when you get attached. I should have found another way, dammit. Caska, I'm sorry.

The small phone was shut off without another thought, quick-wiped with one corner of her suit jacket, and tossed into the small nylon duffel on the front seat. A bugle sounded in her mind and she imagined a pack of hounds crouched and ready to give chase. It was an agonizingly slow count to ten before she pulled back onto the ramp and another five as she made her way to the next level. Veiled moss-green eyes scanned the lot intently. Even if she managed to lose whatever was on her now, there was no telling how long ago she'd been compromised or whether Megan Richards' apartment was safe. She had to assume it wasn't.

Same goes for Il Grano, then, for the time being.

She cursed softly and pulled a voluminous silk scarf over her head, fashioning a stylish sort of hood that would help conceal her face from any overhead surveillance without seeming too obvious. It wouldn't do much to deter whomever had her scent already but it could slow the local PD down and keep them off her back while she dealt with the immediate problem.

The 'click' of sharp heels seemed louder to her ears than they should have been and possibly a bit slower than she would have liked, but Caska needed time to get out. She could do that much for him, at least, and it wouldn't take long to get to the northwest stairs. Cosmo made her way toward the stairs but paused beside the car, crouching casually as if to retrieve something she'd dropped only a moment ago.

[grendel]

11:02:52 Friday 05 January 2063 - Parking Structure 2, Santa Monica Promenade, Los Angeles, CFS

The weapon case is black ABS plastic, closed with three latches along its long side. Cosmo retrieves it from its temporary hiding place beneath the vehicle with ease.

Down at street level, a canary yellow Mitsubishi Shadow pulls out from the lot having used the automatic attendant lane to pay its parking fee. Caska glanced in the rearview mirror before changing lanes, heading for the 10.

Team, One, clear, ETA twenty five minutes.

It was followed seconds later by a pair of Saab Dynamits, which turned the opposite direction onto Pier Street. Their passage was marked by the occupants of the pair of GMC MPUVs parked curbside. As the sound of sirens grew closer, the two MPUVs signalled, pulled out into traffic, and disappeared into the heat of the day.

[paul_HArkonen]

17:20:45 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - icky's, Redmond

An almost nod from Blaze, "I can get you the picture, but not the last name." Blaze reached inside one of his pockets and pulled out a printed picture of Melissa. He grabbed a pen as well and scribbled his number on the back. "Call me if you find anything out, please. And thank you for helping me, like I said, I don't think you know how much this means to me."

[Sedna]

17:21:00 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - icky's, Redmond

Are we done here?

A warm smile from Tazie for all three of them, but she's also keeping a lot of her attention on her surroundings. After all, that's why she's supposed to be here, isn't it?

[WinterRat1]

17:21:10 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - icky's, Redmond

Mr. Cao looks down at the photo for a few moments, then looks up and nods slightly. "I'll do what I can, and call you when I know something." With that simple statement, he turns and leaves the bar.

Meanwhile, Tazie's phone notes that she has a message left for her by Tin Star. It says simply, "I got confirmation there's a boat driving rigger with his own boat who's interested in the job. No word yet from the muscle. How's Tuesday night sound for the meet though? Give the muscle time to respond and us time to get set before then. Let me know what I should tell them."

[Sedna]

17:22:04 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - icky's, Redmond

After almost a minute of silence in the backwash of Mr. Cao's departure (she can't not know that it's still shy six seconds): I guess we are. And I doubt it's advisable to linger longer than we have to.

A quick shift -- no, freeze that and now once again but this time slowly out of the seat, people in the place seem to tense at any movement that seems too sudden. Tazie fidgets, expression hidden behind the one-way opaque black lenses; and then, with a grin, draws herself up to her full height (plus the Cascade Ork boots), letting the twin yet very different bulks of Blaze and the troll backdrop her. Not a threat, no: but also make it clear that here behind her is something to be respected. When she finally turns her back on the jackals and walks out of the place between the two men, she does it in complete safety.

Outside, the detective regards her with a light curiosity, but he says only, "Interesting."

"Prefer a good barfight?" Tazie instantly shoots back; and he shakes his horns, producing an oddly different effect than simply shaking his head would have: while at the same time far less likely to dislodge the fedora. "I thought you'd prefer a lower profile."

"Well, duh," and her hidden eyes should certainly have rolled to match the tone as she steps back once again against Blaze, accenting the permanent lack of low profile. He's still irritated at her, that much is clear: but it's no longer an immediate thing, now that he's had the time to process what she'd done back there. The precarious balance between protective, and respect, and fascination, and, yes, still anger makes for a very interesting play of expression through his aura and presumably his features, like he doesn't know whether to snap back at her or to try to take care of her despite her best efforts to the contrary. "Cab didn't wait much, ka?"

"Wouldn't," Blaze says shortly, and the short contraction tries to contain all of what had gone before and more besides.

"Not here," agrees the troll, nodding, "but I've got another cab coming. Need a lift? Hope you're interested in football ..."

They both nod, Blaze with a sharp glance at Tazie like he'd been expecting her to say something different; and it's true enough she'd been considering it. Once she's clear of the two of them on the edges of Auburn and shivered through herself the mana to settle into her proper Auburn Sedna\Anne-ishness, she gets back to Tin Star that yes, they'd definitely be interested in talking to the rigger; and yes, to set something up on Tuesday, just let her know in advance what time. She'll bring Blaze into this loop as soon as there's something solid here. Once again the predictable question about the decker brings the predictable answer. She allows herself the visible expression of shaking her head to herself: no doubt many of them are busily working independently on what Alleycat would be only too relieved to pay them to do.

Yet another message had been left in her ear while she'd been dealing with Tin Star: from Grail this one, and startlingly short for Grail. "Tomorrow" was all it had said, before it cut off abruptly. For all his unpredictability, in this much at least they do seem to be kindred spirits: in that Grail must have at least as many chips in the oven as she herself (if far more established in the shadows, and with far more idea as to what he was doing). Would it serve her in any way whatsoever to wonder what they might be? Set it aside for now: nothing of substance to fuel speculation, and therefore nothing of substance in speculation. It's not like she doesn't have other things to do.

Cellphone dial-up confirms the university's resource tools she's established are still faithfully grinding their way through the search parameters she's so carefully identified for them so as to compile her desired materials within the general shape of "Anne's" research; although she'll have to pay another library visit tomorrow, refine some aspects, abandon others. At this rate, she'll end up earning the degree almost by default.

The time with Tarq she saves for much, much later tonight, as a kind of reward for herself. The magic ripples powerfully within her ... yet it never occurs to her to wonder if maybe it had grown too powerful, too quickly, to hold within her skin: tame it, constrain it, bend it to her will by whatever bruises necessary; it itches to be taught, to be shaped, and she's perfectly willing to hurt and hurt and hurt in shaping it. It feels alive in her.

Alive, in her. Alive.

The shudder takes her from her toes through her shoulders, and leaves her with a general rawness where, once, her skin had been flayed from her muscles and inverted into something she was not, something pleasing to the eye; and with an aching cramp in her left calf that almost staggers her before she can stretch and then walk it clear. Still breathing, yes: as though it had any real meaning. Still consuming oxygen. Her heart still beating.

Whatever it is that Mouse sees in her, it evokes a small squeak and a failed attempt at a spell. He's got a long way yet to go, that one. And only then, recognition and an audible sigh of relief: "You!"

"Me," Anne says simply. She'd been waiting hours for him to get off-shift, filling the time and her mind with darkness and with observation and with code, hoping that this wouldn't turn out to be one of the training nights with Johnny.

"What'ja want?"

She's as direct as him. "Who'd'ja know, kens the city deepest?"

He blinks at her. "Wha', deez 57? jeenster ka?"

"Jest me." She doesn't see the need to enlighten his wondering what brought this explosion down all of a sudden? "Who kin larn't me?"

"Jeez, Anne, thinkin'. An' it way cold, out here. Gi' a sec." She watches quietly from behind the owl spectacles until suddenly he snaps his fingers: "Sure, an' it's Grifter ya wants."

She bites back an almost-grin, hearing once again the echo of Johnny's phrasings. "An' kinja meets me this Grifter?"

He cocks his head. "Why?"

She'd half been expecting an "What's in it fer me?" but whatever else lies between them, apparently she's still one of the Last Drop gang. Sort of. " 'Cause I needs'a larn't."

"Ya'll pays him?" She nods, and Mouse echoes it: "Sure, I'll meetchas. Tomorrow." And then he double-takes, checks the oversized watch, corrects himself: "T'night. Meetcha here afore work, I'll takeja."

"Tomorrow" is turning out to be a very full day.

So what else is new?

[banditf50]

02:31 Sunday January 7th, 2063 - Cao Jaan`s Halfway House- Redmond Barrens

Steeling himself against the chill of the air knifing through his jacket Knight moved with a long stride down the cracked sidewalk he made a direct path for the alleyway entrance used on his previous visit. Rounding the corner of the block the safehouse resided Knight spied a potential rough start to his first night on the job. About 10 meters away under the flickering light of a yellow street lamp stood a female troll enjoying a smoke with a similar menacing looking human male. Knight couldn't make out much about the human, as his back was to the mage, but he could clearly see that both figures were wielding bats, possible heavier weapons under there winter jackets.

Reaching into his jacket to rest a ready hand upon the comforting haft of Rosekiss, Knight can barely think about whether the two thugs are friend or foe when the she-troll's gaze locks onto him.

"Hey yos there! 'he frag yos think you going."

[Morgannah]

11:03:15 Friday 05 January 2063 - Parking Structure 2, Santa Monica Promenade, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo let out a long slow breath as she took one last look around the inside of the parking structure and as much as everything appeared to be all right, the knowledge that she was being followed had begun to raise her hackles. She was used to being observed, of course, but the fact that she knew very little about her employer and even less about her opponent made it seem as though some faceless monster tracked her now.

It was infuriating..

.. terrifying ..

.. and oddly exciting.

A wicked little smile curled across her lips as she cruised past the automated parking attendant, deftly sliding her ticket and the required amount of change into the appropriate slots. She was moving again in less than four seconds, her gloved fingers all but dancing across the panel of her onboard nav computer.

Beautiful Friday morning .. plenty of traffic.

A car wash would be just the thing....
_____

11:05:27 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sparklean Car Wash, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, CFS

The soft, radiant flush of her cheeks had barely begun to fade as the silver BMW pulled into the short line in front of Sparklean. Cosmo shrugged out of her jacket, tossed the garment over the rifle case in the front seat, and dabbed a bit of clear gloss on her already-pouty lower lip. Her eyes all but sparkled as she programmed her car's next destination into the computer and double checked to make certain that all of her gear was stowed in the small nylon duffel at her side.

Looks like we're good to go.

She very nearly laughed as she watched the car in front of her disappear into the long, narrow building; were she a nicer person, she might feel badly for the poor sap in the driver's seat, but then she also had the benefit of knowing that nothing terrible would happen to them .. if they played along.

With only a moment to evaluate her plan, Cosmo smiled and unfastened the third button of her blouse, shrugging until she looked properly mussed. Her wickedly curving grin was replaced with an expression of frantic, wide-eyed fear as she took her place in line and rolled into the car wash. She gave herself a slow count to five before grabbing her duffel and the coat-covered rifle case and bolting from the BMW.

"Help," she cried, racing toward the car in front of her, tears and eye makeup streaking down her cheeks as she knocked helplessly on the driver's side window.

"Please, help me!"

This post has been edited by Morgannah: Oct 21 2005, 06:04 AM

[grendel]

11:05:35 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sparklean Car Wash, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, CFS

A voice, distorted through the glass and the noise of the automated wash machines, but distinctly feminine calls out from within the vehicle.

"What are you doing? Get away from my car!"

[Morgannah]

11:05:42 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sparklean Car Wash, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo made a show of looking over her shoulder, gasping again as though some monster was nipping at her very heels. She spun to face her savior-to-be and sobbed loudly.

"It's him! He tried to .. " Wet hair plastered itself to her forehead as she looked around worriedly, clutching the coat-wrapped bundle to her chest like some lost child.

".. but I hit him. Knocked him out maybe but I don't know for how .. long."

Steam was rising all around her, concealing and revealing her shuddering body by turns.

"Please," Cosmo cried, her open palm resting on the window, "help me get out of here .... "

[grendel]

11:05:49 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sparklean Car Wash, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, CFS

The window of the BMW cracks open, and a handful of corporate scrip falls out, landing in a sodden heap on the grated floor of the car wash.

"Now get away from my car you crazy slitch!"

[Morgannah]

11:05:54 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sparklean Car Wash, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo shrieked and ducked down into the concealing fog as if to retrieve the cash, silently fuming over the other woman's uncommon and highly inconvenient good sense. Her knuckles turned white around the handle of the rifle case; that was the exact attitude that made her want to ...

"I'm not CRAZY!!" She screamed, the butt-end of the ABS plastic case all but shattering the tinted window before meeting its true destination half a moment later. With the other woman slumped to one side, it wasn't difficult to pull the trunk release, pull the dark suit jacket from her body and tear it into strips to secure her mouth, wrists, and ankles. Cosmo grinned fiendishly as she observed the woman, hog-tied in the trunk of her own car, and considered leaving her there indefinitely.

If only she'd been a little nicer. Idiot woman and her damned smarts.

She shrugged lightly and slipped into the sedan, using the former owner's winter coat as a makeshift window for the duration of the car wash and wrapping her own silk scarf over her head to conceal its wetness. Flipping through several radio stations as she pulled out into midafternoon Los Angeles traffic, Cosmo smiled when one of her favourite old songs started to play.

The Trade Winds Hotel wouldn't be any more than twenty minutes away and was, with any luck, secure for the time being....

[Morgannah]

12:17:08 Friday 05 January 2063 - Trade Winds Hotel, Los Angeles, CFS

And that should about do it ...

Smiling to herself as she set her handheld scanner to one side, Cosmo nodded approvingly at the spartan array of equipment spread out before her. Even if most of her lovely new clothing might as well have been in orbit, the important gear was all here. She'd also been trained to work with much, much less.

Still she sighed, recalling the stunning gown that waited on her closet door and gently mourning its loss. She'd paid more for that blessed creation than any other three outfits combined, arguing with her stylist for a solid ten minutes regarding its accoutrements.

It could have been worse, you know. The scanner could have been there. Or the money..

Cosmo glanced at the pair of credsticks near her knee and drew a deep breath. With almost seventy thousand in cred between the two sticks she wasn't in an awful situation yet but it would certainly head in that direction if she wasn't careful.

.. and your arsenal is growing, remember?

How could she forget? She felt much the same way about the sleek weapon to her left as the designer gown in her abandoned doss; both lovingly crafted, beautiful in their utility as well as efficiency, one just as deadly as the other in the right hands.

Cosmo all but leapt to her feet, her thoughts invariably drifting to the rifle's owner as she stalked across the room, her eyes bright with frustration. She hadn't wanted to involve Caska and hated that she'd let herself ask for his help .. if only there'd been another way. Idiot, she fumed, angrily pulling a tailored tac vest over the midnight satin boustier she'd selected for her evening out, there's always another way. You didn't look hard enough.

Oh, hush. He didn't seem to mind helping, did he?

The answering snarl that ripped from her throat indicated just what she thought of that. He'd helped readily, yes, and that only made it worse. She also doubted he'd accept certified cred for his trouble the way one of her contacts would, thus making it imperative that she finish quickly this afternoon and do everything in her power to be ready for tonight. After a solid five minutes of searching through the room's tired old 'com directories, a rough plan began to take form. Cosmo jotted a few notes onto a scrap of paper, stood up tiredly, and set herself to packing for the long evening ahead of her.

15:18:43 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo patted Mrs. Wilhite's swollen cheek with a distinct lack of sympathy.

"Almost finished, love, and you have been wonderful," she cooed too-sweetly, her hand balling into a tight little fist. "Now smile for the birdie!"

The punch that impacted the other woman's skull was no harder than it had to be this time. Maybe she was a bit too soft. Maybe she was already satisfied with the ugly bruising that was already presenting itself upon the woman's flesh. Maybe she was nearing the end of her fragging rope and wanted to get on with it already. Whatever the case, Cosmo took special care to adjust the blindfold and gag along with the rest of her 'captive's bindings until she was certain they would hold. A trio of bungee cords were added this time, strapped from one end of the trunk to the other and across the woman's knees, hips, and just below the shoulders .. which would, with any luck, keep her from moving about once she woke up.

The trunk was lowered and locked with a final 'click' before she climbed back into the sedan, cued up the onboard computer, and drove away. Slowly. Only to hop back out a second later, duffel in hand, and close the door behind her. The car was programmed to travel another seven hundred and fifty meters (ninety seconds) on the shoulder of the road before shutting off again, looking for all the world like a vehicle that had run out of gas.

Grimacing, she shifted from one foot to the other in her "new" plastic shoes; even though the duffel bag she hefted was relatively light, her arches were screaming for release after the first step. Never had she wished so passionately for a simple pair of running shoes ....

The woods seemed to embrace her between one second and the next. Cosmo prayed it would be enough to hide her as she scouted a new place to set up.

Half an hour should be juuust about right ..

[grendel]

15:38:04 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

From her vantage point on the cliffs, concealed beneath the thin green vegetation of evergreen sage and joshua tree, Cosmo watched. Five minutes ago, a pair of surfers had taken up position on the second line of breakers. Although in good company, over a dozen were making runs southwestward along the beach, this pair wore kevlar beneath their wetsuits and were probably carrying automatics of some kind in the drybags slung alongside their surfboards. They weren't alone, either. A pair of beachgoers loitered by the stairs leading down from the ridgeline, chatting idly about the day. They, too, wore armor, and carried secreted weapons. The final pair she'd marked stood ready by a vehicle parked in the lot for the train station.

Scanning their positions again, Cosmo swept the bay from South to North. It was almost time. There. A five meter cabin cruiser cut through the waves, heading towards shoreline. Nestling her cheek into the cool polymer stock of the rifle, she brought the weapon's scope live. Finding the boat's wake, she traced it forward until the vessel came into view. The cruiser's windows were heavily tinted, preventing her from seeing inside, but the boat moved with far too much purpose to be a smiple fishing or sport cruise.

Pulling away from the scope, she checked the positions of the welcoming committee. The guards had abandoned any pretense of idleness, scanning their surroundings with an alertness born of long training. Placing her eye back to the scope, she switched the weapon from 'safe' to 'semi'. The boat slowed its approach to bare steerage, slow enough that the surfers could pace it into the beach. It grounded with a crunch, still a meter or so out from the beach. The two surfers abandoned their boards, slinging the drybags over their shoulders and revealing HK227s. They flanked the vessel, weapons held at the ready. The door to the cabin cruiser's deck slid open. Cosmo caressed the pistol grip of the weapon, her smartlink interface connecting to the onboard bus. She snugged the weapon into her shoulder, welding her cheek to the stock. The first face appeared.

[grendel]

15:59:22 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

The first shot snapped out, slamming the butt of the weapon into her shoulder. The face in the scope was a child, only a dozen years old. Blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a softly smiling mouth. It disappeared into a red haze, a gray fantail sluicing across the open deck of the boat. The guards reacted instantly, weapons coming up and searching for a target. Cosmo shifted aim immediately, her second shot rushed in order to prevent the other child from reaching safety. The rifle barked again, recoiling smoothly into her shoulder. Blood pistoned across the deck of the vessel, the 8mm jacketed hollowpoint ripping a massive wound channel through the narrow torso. Faces pivoted to the ridgeline, enhanced eyes picking out the faint cloud of dust kicked up by the supersonic passage of the bullets.

Time to go.

[Morgannah]

15:59:30 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo refused to think about where she was or what she was doing. The only thing that mattered now was where she was headed. Her own life .. she'd be damned if she'd let those fraggers put her back to sleep.

.. Blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a softly smiling mouth ..

She rose with practiced grace, swiftly disassembling the rifle, meticulously placing each component where she had found it and closing the case with a resounding 'snap.'

Rifle in case. Case in bag. Bag over shoulders. Don't break stride. Find car. Drive.

Her thoughts circled over these points, timing each word with a footstep and every third footstep with a breath. Every sense was alert, every nerve ending strained and all but dancing. She was going to laugh or cry eventually, probably both, but not until it was time.

And it was not time.

Cosmo straightened imperceptibly, slowing until her strides became easier and more natural. She was a hiker. A pretty young hiker with a hooded grey sweatshirt, jeans, sunglasses, and a duffel bag over her shoulders .. pausing to look across the street on her way out of the woods.

Mrs. Wilhite's BMW waited beside the road, just as she'd asked it to.

[Morgannah]

16:05:33 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

A hint of a frown tickled the corners of her mouth as she spotted the second of the childrens' guards posted near the train station. There was no use hiding or ducking back into the woods. Passing herself off as a hiker to a random passer-by was one thing .. this .. another matter entirely. She counted twenty, maybe thirty people in the general vicinity; there would be fewer momentarily.

Cosmo let out a soft breath and dashed for "her" BMW even as the guard began to race toward her. She'd pulled the Manhunter from behind her hip before she knew what she was doing, bracing herself against the open door of the car while she took aim, growling as she did so, and fired.

[grendel]

16:05:34 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

The guard skidded to the ground on one knee, her own pistol held to the side to balance the dodge. Her face was white: fear, adrenaline, concentration writ large. She tracked Cosmo as she ran, lips curling in a feral snarl.

[Morgannah]

16:05:35 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

White hot agony exploded within her mind as something hit her. Her eyes, locked against those of the guard she was facing, bulged with a shock of pain and then narrowed suspiciously.

Like a bloody brick to the side of the head with salt and lemon juice squeezed over .. oh frag.

She growled softly and scanned the parking lot again. Most of the crowd had either run off though a few people took cover beside their vehicles; one person, however, had made it to another BMW sedan and was watching her intently.

The other guard .. waiting for me to bolt while the blessed mage tries to take me out. Oh, bloody hell ....

Cosmo reached into a pocket, a vicious snarl of her own curling across her mouth, and tossed something toward the other woman.

Here, catch!

[grendel]

16:05:36 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

The grenade exploded with a hollow whoomf, the bursting charge dispersing the chemical reservoir as a gray aerosol cloud. The guard was already in motion, scrambling for harder cover in case Cosmo had thrown something with a little more kick. The binders in her blood would help her resist the chemical compound, but the cloud effectively blocked her line of sight to the target. She would have to displace in order to continue pursuit, a fact she relayed to the rest of her team.

[Morgannah]

16:05:37 Friday 05 January 2063 - Rockport Beach, Los Angeles, CFS

As much as she would have loved to toss something that went 'boom' at the guard it was probably for the best that she tended to use "less lethal" gear. Cosmo had enough to worry about without another round of deaths weighing on her conscience.

She'd barely glanced at the gas cloud as it formed around the woman since she was too busy climbing into the driver's seat, gunning the engine before so much as fastening her seat belt. Several rapid blinks cleared the space in front of her until there was only one dashboard and the sharp needles of pain shooting through her skull were reduced to searing pinpricks. The sedan, though not quite as responsive as her little coupe, roared to life....

[Morgannah]

17:54:37 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sugar, Malibu Beach, CFS

There was something about Sugar that appealed to her on the most basic level. The play of ultraviolet and ambient light as it danced across fabric and flesh. The press of youthful bodies locked in a dance that seemed primitive and profound at once. Even though she didn't favour the dark industrial tones 'thrumming' their way through her chest, the omnipresent bass was nearly loud enough to block the screaming within her mind....

A small, self-mocking smile tipped up one corner of her mouth as she surveyed the growing crowd of Los Angeles' "beautiful people." Here, she could blend in perfectly or stand apart .. control the tide of ritualistic Lust or be swept along in its wake. Here, she could be Queen. Cosmo reclined on a soft white couch, enjoying her perch on the building's highest tier, poised and regal as a lioness after the hunt. Burnished blonde waves all but tumbled over her bared shoulders, spilling across the arm of the couch as she detached the small (new) cell phone from the bracelet around her wrist, considering....

The other driver had been passingly good, of course, just not good enough to catch her .. this time. She'd have liked to think that she was simply better but highly doubted the possibility; one of the disadvantages to operating solo was the fact that you had to be competent in any number of areas, leaving precious little time to specialize. Dismissing the thought as irrelevant, she scanned the crowd once again; if anyone had followed her (and she was almost certain none did) they would give themselves away within moments. Cosmo spent a full minute in this manner before dialing a familiar number.

"Watchdog," she purred, sipping a bright neon drink.

[grendel]

17:54:42 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sugar, Malibu Beach, CFS

The voice is different, even over the singularly uninformative electronic medium. There is tension in it, a tightness underlying the usual laconic. Suspicion, as well, is easy to identify. Is it you? the voice asked. Really you? Or have you been compromised? Are you now a liability? She could see him as she heard him: his eyes flat and distant, the planes of his face set and terrible as he held at the decision point, capable of rescuing her or grinding to dust this emotion that had so recently flowered between them. He would not waver from his course of action once the choice was made.

"You are not at home."

[Morgannah]

17:54:48 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sugar, Malibu Beach, CFS

"Mm, I'm in the market .. problems with the heater. Why renovate when you can just move on?

She was careful to keep her voice warm and relaxed though it was difficult not to respond to the tension so apparent in his electronic voice. Would you have come for me, she wondered, if things had not gone so well this afternoon?

Cosmo put the thought out of her mind and stretched, cat-like, across her little couch. "Sorry I couldn't get through to you sooner, darling, but I lost my old phone and had to find another. With all the rotten luck I've been having lately, I'm amazed things have cleared up so quickly...."

[grendel]

17:54:55 Friday 05 January 2063 - Sugar, Malibu Beach, CFS

"Yes, things haven't been going your way lately. I'm glad to hear that it's looking better from your end, though. Is there anything I can do to help?"