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

[Sedna]

1623 January 5 2063 - A street in Aurburn

The place isn't offering all that much in the way of non-violent options -- had Virgil said something about magic? -- but with the skill and instinct of long experience Dragon gradually managed to filtre out the people sounds around him, focusing all his hearing toward the shell of the burnt-out building.

There. He hadn't imagined it. Somewhere from that building was coming the small gasps of someone so far beyond pain that breathing itself came harsh and shaky and would be a relief to stop. He'd heard such things too often before. Without magical help within the next five minutes, he wouldn't be hearing this one too much longer.

Dragon turned slightly to one side and then the other, trying to isolate the small sound from its surroundings. Almost -- there!. As if visually he could suddenly picture exactly where in the building she would be, how the beams must have collapsed across her after they had burnt through. At some point he had started thinking of her as a "she".

Of the other person, Dragon could make out nothing. Didn't mean they weren't alive. There was a chance. There was always a chance.

Virgil's words suddenly broke into his concentration -- "believe that I can slip past the Lone Star perimeter using a spirit for cover" -- and he struggled to hold the picture in his mind, not letting himself hear them completely until he knew he wouldn't lose it. Succeeding, the meaning of the words connected with the half-plan in his mind: spirit, yes, there just might be enough cover for that if it's a reasonably powerful one, even with the perimeter as tight as it was. Just as long as none of the cops were mages -- but the radio exchange seemed to suggest that they were still waiting for their magical back-up.

"... once they know for a fact that people are still trapped, the Star will have to break perimeter ..."

Something connected. The fire elemental had attacked Virgil when he had gone scouting in the astral. In Aztlan, such creatures were commonly tied to guard an area inside some kind of boundary: and when a mundane penetrated such a boundary, it would manifest and use its power from a distance. These people would have gone up like torches. And if it stayed high enough and no one here was Awakened, not one of them could have touched it.

The Star wasn't acting here against whoever was still in that building. The Star had quite probably saved the lives of many of the people here by not letting them go in.

"To do this though I need you to keep that boorish sargent occupied, and not throw up any alarms when I call a spirit."

The Doc Wagon mage nodded curtly. "I'll do better than that, sir, if you'll get me in too." Before Virgil can quite react he's called over two of his people, explained the situation to them in a low voice: and with fresh energy they each begin arguing anew with one of the cops, one of them the original sergeant, one the thinner patrolman next to him. The sergeant looks and sounds suspicious, but it's not like he can do anything, not and leave his position covered, and besides that now he's got a Doc Wagon woman screaming in his face. With that the mage turns back to Virgil: "Let's go, we have no time to waste."

Dragon starts to explain his idea for a distraction as he sees Virgil returning, but checks at the sight of his unexpected partner. Virgil looks a bit dazed but relieved, like something worked out much more quickly than he expected: "Here's the plan ..."

[banditf50]

1623 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

Good to have an extra hand, plus a Doc Wagon mage should've have some strong healing magic.

"Here's the plan. We'll breach the perimeter at the point you've deemed to be optimal using your distraction to aid our passage," Virgil recieves a nod of understanding from Dragon.

"I am going to summon a spirit of the streets and use it's powers to help conceal our presence, as the distraction begins the spirit will also use it's powers to help confuse the perimeter guards. We will enter the building following your lead," Virgil again motions to Dragon. "Once inside in building you two will locate the two trapped victims while I keep a watch on the astral for any other hostile beings."

Making eye contact with the Doc Wagon mage for emphasis Virgil continued, "Once we find those victims we'll stablize them with magical healing and your team can take over."

"Once we've found those victims, they will have all the medical attention Doc Wagon can give them." responded the mage firmly.

Turning back to face Dragon, Virgil continued, "Go and ready your distraction. I'll get to calling our backup, and when you return, we'll move on your mark." Nodding in approval, Dragon turned on his heels and spirited away to see to his duties . . . seems like a sound plan, it's great to work with a proper professional again. Dragon thought as he remembered the failures of the last team he worked with.

As Dragon left to see about his duties. Virgil turned back to the mage. "Thank you for doing this."

"Are you kidding," replied the mage with a smile, "Thank you, I've been working with Doc Wagon for 5 years, and I think your the first 'good samaritan' I've met in this acursed city."

"If you know any invisibilty magic it would be great help since we cannot afford any error on out penetration." replied Virgil.

With that Virgil turned to face the building and focused on the auras of the trapped as he called out to the spirit world. Tyr, send the spirits of man to me, look favorably upon our cause.

Focusing all is will Virgil strained to make his call to the spirit world heard against the background count that stained the astral world in a dense fog. I must not fail those people. The desperation of the situation fueled Virgil's will and added urgency to his plea. Feeling the mana swirl around him, a call finaly reached his astral senses, as a shimmering shape took form against the fog. What do you wish of me . . .

[WinterRat1]

1624 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

Jogging back to the car, Dragon carefully and subtly grabs a few grenades out of his trunk from their case.

Let's see...a defensive for the distraction, since I don't want to actually kill anyone...maybe a pair of smoke, pair of concussion, just in case we gotta beat feet, and an extra offensive, in case things get really ugly.

Strapping them to his combat vest underneath his long coat, he chuckles to himself. Heh, you can take the merc out of the combat zone, but you can't take the combat zone out of the merc. Glad I brought this along.

Jogging to the opposite side of their planned penetration point, he carefully sets the timer for the full two minutes, and tosses it casually into the point most likely to not cause damage to the building and away from their entry point. Nothing fancy, just toss it so it'll roll into about the right spot. Don't need accuracy, just don't want anyone to notice.

Hurrying back to Virgil, careful not to draw attention to himself, he says, "Got our entry point figured, and the distraction is ready to go. We've got a little less than two minutes before it goes, so you better have your mojo up and ready to roll. Quick thing. You realize the people, even if they're who we're looking for, are going to be hospitalized and probably detained as witnesses for a while. That'll put a bite into our timetable."

He grins. "Not that that'll stop your goody goody self from trying to save them, but I just thought I'd put that out there." Looking down at his watch, he adds, "Get ready, it'll be any moment now."

[Sedna]

1626 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

It was not the hardest struggle Virgil had ever had, to try to reach something clean through the astrally imprinted record of pain and violence.

It was also very far from the easiest.

To reach out, to find that thread of the place as it should have been and hold it and shape it and send out his request to it, great Tyr help me ...

Virgil swayed, then crumpled to his knees -- but when the mage would have moved closer to help he managed somehow to wave him away, desperately focusing all his will into something clean, something which partook and was the essence of the city ... and then it was there before him, rising almost out of the ashes like some pale echo of Phoenix; and through it and in it Virgil had a faint, blurred sense of laughter and food and gaming, what this place must have been like, before someone had decided someone else knew too much. In a voice that was like laughter and food and gaming Virgil heard it ask: "What do you wish of me ..."

That's when the grenades went off.

Even as far away as they were, even planned for minimal damage, what was left of the building shivered, and thick smoke began billowing up almost at once. Cries and screams from onlookers already half-veiled by the black smoke.

The spirit seemed to darken and twist in sudden agony. Virgil had a sudden sense of something lost, but didn't know what it was. Struggling, he clung to the clean vision he had seen earlier -- and although a knife lanced through his head and spots began drifting across his sight, he found the pattern again and held it. "Concealment," he told it quickly, "we three; and confusion ..." He was struggling to get the words out against a suddenly thick tongue, but he had made himself understandable enough, and the spirit stretched out, engulfed them --

Overlay: what was, what is. Darkened remains of tabletops an unreal image through people perched around that table and earnestly discussing the day's receipts: distinct pleasure there but also ambition -- we have to do better! -- other people all around, time blurred, people coming, people going, bright veneer of life, a thin, black man, a handshake of mutual understanding; a dark man talking, dark not in the colour of his skin but in his eyes and his soul, and the owner in front of him petrified, shaking her head, and he reaches out his hand to plant it against her brow -- she screams, but the rest of her body cannot move, and others rush in to help her -- and he shrugs, and says a Word, and fire rips the place apart --

Virgil never remembers Dragon and the unknown mage beside him guiding him through the perimeter and into the building, but he knows that somehow they must have: how else could he have gotten here? But the mage beside him sighs and folds together the monitor he has been holding: "Too late. He's gone."

"No!" says Virgil, and he clings to the trace he still holds, digging through ashes and through soot, and despite the mage's sudden resignation he kneels down and joins him and after a moment Dragon does too, shifting the beams carefully so the entire structure would not suddenly shift and kill the person already barely clinging to life -- as had happened bare minutes ago to the man sprawled on top of her, the one the Doc Wagon mage had been looking for.

She must have survived because she was standing right next to the bastard who called in the elemental. So help me Tyr, I'll --

"She's still alive," says the Doc Wagon mage in a tone of sudden relief. "But she's not one of ours ..."

[Sedna]

1628 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

"Never mind," he said suddenly, chopping off with his hand a protest Virgil had not realised he was intending to make and the words Dragon might just have been beginning to say. A tired smile touched his eyes. "Let some good come out of today, at least."

He knelt over the woman, and Virgil could almost sense the gathering mana.

After almost too long, he stood up again -- and staggered, as if the land had suddenly tilted under him. Dragon caught him and would have steadied him, but the mage jerked his arm away. "I've done what I can," he said curtly, and his eyes were chilling as he looked up at the two of them, "but the body will still need time to catch up and integrate the healing." His monitor made a small beep as he scanned the Doc Wagon bracelet from the man below her. "Take her and go. I'll take my chances with the Star."

Virgil felt an urgent need to say something, anything -- but for the life of him he could not think of what.

The mage must have caught some of it. "Friend," he said, his eyes softening a little, "he's almost forgotten who he is, and you're walking the same path."

Without another word he walked away.

[WinterRat1]

1628 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

Dragon looks up at him sharply. "Not one of yours? I assume you mean not one of your paying customers. But you're a doctor, right? Or at least a medic? You gonna help us, or just walk out?" He softens slightly, and fires out a mischevious sort of grin. "Besides, you are here already. I'd say if nothing else, you may as well take the chance to do some good, even if it is free of charge."

Despite the tension of the situation, the DocWagon mage gives a tired smile, born of someone who's seen too much death, but recognizing that yes, he can do some good. Even if it's off the clock.

Maybe that's the best kind of good, one where there's nothing in it for you but you do it anyway. Dragon thinks to himself as they continue to dig through the rubble to save the woman buried underneath the wreckage. Keeping his senses sharply attuned for anything that might prove a problem, whether from the perilious environment or the oh so altruistic Lone Star just outside, the three of them dig quickly, managing to free the woman fairly quickly.

Crouching, Dragon looks out into the Lone Star perimeter. Without looking at them, he asks Virgil and the DocWagon mage, "Can you move her now and stabilize later? I'm not too sure how much longer this thing will hold up, and I don't want to be here when Lone Star comes calling. Otherwise, better work that mojo and let's hurry out of here."

Looking at the DocMedic now, he adds, "Listen, I know you can't take her, since she isn't one of your customers and all. The almighty bottom line, right? But we can, and my buddy, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes, will take care of her, for free. So if you can just help us get her out of here in one piece, you can rest knowing she's all right, and we'll take it from here. Cool?"

[Sedna]

1629 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

And then what the mage had been saying caught up with Dragon.

[banditf50]

1628 January 2063 - A street in Auburn

As the mage walked out of the opposite side of the crumbling structure, Virgil could not stop a pang of remorse from setteling in is stomach. He had not asked the mage for his name because the confusion and urgency of the situation had not allowed for the time, plus Virgil had deemed it better if his and Dragon's identities were not revealed to a stranger. His initial mistrust for a stranger only fueled Virgil's regret in the face of such nobility and duty..

Your deeds here will not be forgotten. Virgil thought as he made a silent vow to ensure that the kindness of the unknown mage was returned in full someday. Tyr demands that honor begot honor, nobility begot nobility.

"Dragon, quickly, while chaos still reigns outside we need to get her back to the car. Plenty of safer places to care for her once we're out of here."

At least she's stabilized, but she will still need more care . . and soon.

With a gentleness that suprised Virgil, Dragon reached down and lifted the unconscious women into his arms as if he were cradeling a newborn.

Feeling the spirit's presence still enveloping him Virgil led the way out of the rubble following the path they'd gained entrance with. He could see several Lone Star officers bustling around trying to calm the crowd who's panicked state had been reignited by the gernade blast. Looks like they have more important things to worry about . .

The three figures slipped back through the perimeter which was starting to dissolve as officers were forced to wade into the crowd in order to stem the chaos. As they reached the Americar Virgil caught the sight of the mage being accosted by the same chubby seargent, who was now angry beyond all belief . . Thank you, I will return this deed, by the name of Tyr.

Getting into the backseat of the car Virgil instructed Dragon to lay the women across the seat and rest her head in his lap. "I'll stay here and attempt to heal her further, please go and grab Father Bremen. If I'm knocked out from drain when you return, take us to 1618 Sagamore Drive in Pulyup. I have a friend their who can help us. . . "

[WinterRat1]

1635 January 2063 - A street in Auburn

It took Dragon a few minutes to find Father Bremen in the large, panicking crowd. Moving amongst the injured and shocked, the priest was attempting to calm and soothe them, to bring comfort and healing to those he could. Approaching the large troll, Dragon suddenly appeared by his side. "Father, we need to go. We have other things we need to do, and they have to be done now."

Without turning, the big priest replied, "You go. My place is here among the sick and wounded. I need to be here for these people."

"I understand your concern. But there are medics here and help on the way. We need to take care of other matters right now, that are more important than this."

Whirling angrily to face Dragon, Father Bremen angrily snapped, "More important? More important? I don't know what you're up to exactly, but how dare you try to tell me there's something more important than helping those who need it?"

Most people would back off at the sight of a large, angry troll snapping at them. Dragon didn't even blink. "These people have help. More help is coming. If they don't have it now, they'll get it soon. There are others who have no help, and the only help they've got coming is Virgil and I. You want something more important than helping those who need it? Fine. How about helping those who need it and will never get it, unless we get going?"

The priest trembled; clearly despite his ordination into the priesthood he was not used to being spoken to this way. Apparently unconcerned and matching him stare for stare, Dragon continued, "What am I up to? I'm sure you've got your own ideas, but let me spell the bottom line out for you. You can't help Julia and you know it. Sooner or later, someone, anyone, is going to run her to ground and there won't be a damn thing you can do about it. Virgil and I are the only chance you've got of helping her, and maybe others, out of what could get real ugly, real fast. And whatever you may think of me or my motives, the bottom line is I have no bottom line on this. I'm doing this out of pure fragging charity, so that should say something right here."

Gesturing around, he says with the coldness of one who has experienced the factual brutality of war, "You think I haven't seen worse than this? I've seen it a thousand times, on both sides of the line. But at least in war, most of the time, people had a chance. Not much, I grant, but a chance. Here, bad luck. It happens. But Julia? She'll be slowly and deliberately fragged by whoever happens to decide to do it, and she won't be able to do a damn thing about it, and luck ain't gonna save her. You want to help someone? Help us to help her, because she doesn't have a fragging prayer if we don't."

Trembling, the troll visibly gains control of himself and breathes deeply, slowly inhaling and exhaling. "You're...right. I apologize. When I see this, I want so badly to help...sometimes I don't think clearly, and I almost lost it there..."

Dragon waves it off. "Null sweat. It happens. You've got feelings, emotions. It ain't like you want to see this happen, and when you do, you feel you gotta help. But anyway. Let's roll."

Arriving back at the car, they cram back into the Ford Americar, and without bothering Virgil, deep in spellcasting, Dragon heads off to the address he mentioned.

1618 Sagamore Drive in Puyallup, eh? Let's see what we've got there...And yeah, maybe that mage was right. Almost forgot who I am. I'm not a saint, I'm just a solider, and at the end of the day, it's just business. Just business...

And as they drove off, an image of Christina flashed into his mind, and as he saw her in his mind's eye, Dragon was forced to ask himself, "Or is it?"
He didn't have an answer. And he guessed he wouldn't have one for some time either. They drove in silence.

[Sedna]

1650 January 2063 - A clinic in Puyallup

It was an address in one of the bad areas of Puyallup that was competing for worst. Dragon could feel the eyes all around him, the eyes weighing even this pathetic excuse for a vehicle, weighing them to decide if what they carried would be worth the almost certain injuries it would take to acquire it. A couple of street children ran up to him as he stepped out of the car, every nerve on edge -- and then several were swarming him, their hands, their weight pressing him back against the car. He'd be able to clear himself of them, he thought, but not easily; and some of them would almost certainly end up dead if he tried.

A clapping from behind him: one, two. "Hey! Ye kens the regs, ka! Move it! An' Stick" -- and a great, meaty hand descended into his field of vision, he hadn't quite been able to squirm around enough to see, before, and pulled out one of the kids -- "destash it."

The pressure eased, and Dragon cautiously straightened, to find the kid, at eye level, holding out his credstick to him -- while being held by the scruff of his jacket. "Sook," the owner of the hand boomed, giving the kid a good shake. She seemed to have only one volume of voice. "Anything else gone walkabout, soldier?"

"Ah -- no. I don't think." Fortunately he hadn't been carrying all that much else, and the keys would pretty much be useless without the car -- "er, the keys too."

She shook the kid again, who tried to squirm out of the jacket. "Where?"

"Tony got them. He gone."

"I can see that." She turned him around to face him, twisting the jacket so that he was trapped in it. "Ye ken the regs!"

"I ken them."

"Sook. One hour. Scram." She released him and he hared off and vanished into the warren of buildings. "You. Inside. Bring her."

Dragon almost shook his head in sheer bemusement. This woman -- this troll -- was a force of nature unto herself. And then as the shaman pulled himself out of the car on painful legs behind his charge. the female troll exclaimed: "Virgil?"

"Does every trog do-gooder know you?" muttered Dragon irritably, but under his breath. This was not qualifying as anywhere near a good day.

Virgil took the moment to steady himself and the woman who had spent most of that journey shaking and with her head resting on his chest. Somehow that front bucket seat seemed to have been moved back even further. "Dragon, meet Galina. She works with Juliette."

"Skip the intros, get her in here quick," said Galina, not paying the slightest attention to anyone but the woman even as Father Bremen was maneouvering his way out of the small car. "She's shocky, but she's beHealed." All of them could hear the capital letter. Looking at Virgil: "You?"

"No, someone else," and Virgil sighed, his mind elsewhere for a moment until Dragon said, in that level, polite voice that suggested he really wasn't going to be patient too much longer: "My keys?"

"He'll destash them. They ken the regs. You bringing her in here or what?"

Dragon let out a long breath. It was going to be one of those days.

[SentineloftheMou...]

1000 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


Progress... Making Progress...., Andie thinks to himself as he goes to check on the circulation again. This is tedious work, but will be rewarding in the end. Patience...I have to have patience.

Everything looks normal, as he stirs the circulation and stokes the furnace; checking astrally the composition of the mixture.

He takes some measurements and notes; keeping records for later use.

[SentineloftheMou...]

1200 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie continues his work in the magic shop. He overhears younger voices in the other room. Sara must be about to start teaching a class....

[SentineloftheMou...]

1300 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

The noise of students exiting from class reminds Andie what time it is and goes to check the circulation.

Once this is done he returns to the formula he is working on.

[WinterRat1]

1710 January 5 2063- A clinic in Puyallup

Sitting in the dingy waiting room, complete with plastic fragging plants and the requisite cracked linoleum, Virgil plopped himself down on a beat-up old couch, protruding springs notwithstanding. Deciding he’d rather not deal with it for now, Dragon paced the silently, as he had for the last fifteen or so minutes since they brought the girl in. Father Bremen had gone outside to play with the kids, and to make sure that they did, indeed, ‘harken the regs’.

It’s a damn good thing it is him, and not me. At this point, I don’t think I’d be past putting a round into one of those little fraggers just to make a point. And maybe one more, just because. Looking over at the shaman, who was leaning back against the couch, eyes closed, Dragon fumed silently.

How the frag do I get myself into these things? What the frag? Lousy drek-eating motherfragging, doo-goodering, is that even a WORD? namby-pamby, rat-stinking, son of a slitch. Argh! If we weren’t friends there’s no fragging way I’d put myself through this aggravation. No fragging way. Well, that and if I wasn’t so damn sure we’d find a way to turn a profit. We did that time in Aztlan, after all, and that job back here in Seattle not too long ago. We’ll do it again. I just wish it wasn’t so damn annoying. Grr…

Without opening his eyes, Virgil broke the rhythmic cadence of Dragon’s footsteps. “So what’s the plan now? Any ideas?”

Luckily, not all that pacing time had been spent fuming. After considering the matter and playing through all the angles, Dragon did indeed have a plan. Nodding, he turned and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, I got some. Let’s do this methodically, top priority to bottom. First, we need to start working on how we’re going to turn a profit out of all this. That means getting in touch with anyone and everyone who might be interested in acquiring a ‘protecting interest’ in Julia . Get on the horn with all your mage buddies and put out some feelers. Nothing too solid though, and don’t make us any commitments. We don’t know if she’ll even want to go, and something tells me we’re not going to force her somewhere against her will.”

Virgil shakes his head, and Dragon rolls his eyes at the entirely expected response. “You and your damn morals.” Shaking his head in disgust, he continues. “That said, there’s got to be at least one place she’d feel comfortable going.”

Piercing the shaman with is stare, which he knew Virgil could feel, eyes closed or not, he continued, “What I said to the priest still holds true. Someone, somewhere, isn’t going to give a damn about what she wants. So her options aren’t really stay free or not. It’s more like, go where you want or go where you don’t want. Either way though, she’s going. It’s just a question of where. So we may as well have a list handy for her to choose from. But we don’t want a rep as guys who can’t deliver, so make sure we don’t make any promises, and don’t give them any reason to put us on their list of people to ‘talk’ to.”

Still without opening his eyes, Virgil replies, “I’m not an amateur you know. I got it.”

“Right, right. Force of habit. Apologies. OK then, so that’s first up. That’s you, since you’ll know more people than I will. That’s your area. Next, we’re going to need someone with more diverse connections than either of us for a project like this. Additionally, for obvious reasons, it would be extremely useful to have a source of information privy to stuff we almost certainly won’t be. For some of my projects later on, I’m going to need that information source. I’ve got the line on someone who might be able to help us. She’s a reporter, long on talent but short on clout. I have a friend who could put me in touch, and told me that this chick is starting to get desperate. She might be willing to help us out with legwork and investigation in return for protection during her investigation, exposure to the ‘shadier’ side of the streets, and of course,” they both finish the sentence at the same time, Virgil’s eyes snapping open as they grin at each other, “an exclusive.”

Enjoying a shared laugh, a pleasant, if brief relief from the stress of the day and the meticulous business of planning, they quickly settle down as Dragon continues. “You take that info on Puyallup and the Mob. I don’t have the street level contacts here on the ground to make much out of that, and you’re a local, you should know some stuff about all that. I’ll track down Paris Sendor, after cultivating that reporter chick, I hope. She should be able to get somewhere with all that. And I’ll take the Lone Star guy, what was his name again, oh yeah, Albrecht . Neither of us has much juice with the Star I’m guessing, but I’ll take him just to even it out.”

Ticking off each item on his fingers as he silently recaps to himself, Dragon looks over at Virgil . “Did I miss anything?”

Just then, Galina comes out. “She’s sleeping now. I’ll be needin’ more time with her, time I’m sure you lads could be doin’ somethin’ else. So why dontcha go home now? I’ll get in touch with you when she can see you Virgil .”

Dragon is about to reply with a cutting comment that they can’t go home without the car keys, when the priest walks in, and tosses them to him. “Here you go son. Why don’t you two listen to the lady? I’m going to stay here a bit, and make my way home later. I’ll get in touch with you both as well if I hear anything.”

Dragon nods. “Right, let’s roll.” He turns to walk out, but Father Bremen catches his arm. “Listen…back there, at the fire. You were right son. You were right. I just wanted to let you know that, and let you know I appreciate what you’re doing here.” He releases his grip. “That’s all. Thanks boys. Good luck with your search, I’ll let you know if anything changes down here.”

Nodding acceptance of the apology, Dragon walks back to the car, Virgil right with him. As they hop in the car, they drive back in silence, until suddenly Virgil starts. “Wait. There is one more thing. When I assessed the place. There was, a ‘dark man’ there. He’s responsible for the fire. He’s someone we definitely want to find.”

Dragon raises an eyebrow. “Dark man? Like a black dude?” Virgil gives him a withering stare. “No idiot. Dark as in his soul is dark. I have no idea what race he is.”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Why the hell would I say dark? Why wouldn’t I just say black?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were being poetic or some drek like that!”

The friendly argument quickly subsides as Virgil says in all seriousness. “We want to find him, and then I want to have a long chat with him about just what is going on. Yeah, a real long chat indeed.”

Arriving at Virgil’s apartment, Dragon drops him off. “OK then, let’s get rolling with what we’ve got. Keep me posted, we’ll try to keep each other informed of current events so we can stay up to date with what’s up. Good luck.”

Virgil waved to the departing car as he headed back inside his apartment. Time to get to work.

Meanwhile, Dragon was thinking more or less the exact same thing.

Great minds think alike…?

[WinterRat1]

Somewhere in Seattle, around 3 am

Pain ripping through her. Heavy hands around her
throat. A buzzing in her ears, louder and louder
--

A bit to her surprise, it wasn't Grail but the
landline that was pulsing so persistently.
Anne dragged herself over to the telephone.
"Hai?"

"Is this Anne Mariah Tenisat?" said a pleasant
voice.

"Hai," she answered, a bit of a growl entering her
voice.

"Recently a student at the University of Washington?"

"Hai." The growl was becoming more insistent. One
more question and she would hang up.

"You really don't want to hang up on us, Miss
Tenisat. I represent Debt Recovery Management
Service, contracted by the University of Washington,
and --"

She hung up. It promptly rang again. Then she took
the telephone off the hook and fell asleep.

[SentineloftheMou...]

1500 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie gets up from his research at the desk and walks over to check on the batch. I need a break from formulas....

He stirs the batch, gathers some magical energy from around him, and slowly injects the energy into the circulation....

[WinterRat1]

1800 January 5 2063- Dragon's Home

Arriving back at the apartment where his grandmother and two sisters were staying, Dragon walked in the door and was greeted with a delighted shriek of, "Vincent!!!" by his little sister. Smiling broadly and running toward him, arms wide open, Cindy jumped off her seat at the kitchen table where she had been studiously doing her homework and rushed over to hug her brother.

Grinning broadly, he knelt down and wrapped her in his arms and stood with a quick motion, spinning around as he lifted his sister off the ground in a big hug. "Did you miss me sweetie?" he gently asked his sister, who had her arms wrapped around his neck. "Uh-huh. Where have you been? You haven't been home in a while." She leaned back, looking at him, playing idly with his jacket collar.

"I had to go to work. Is Susan home yet?" Nodding her head up and down, the little girl replied, "She's in her room."

"Did you finish your homework yet?"

A shake of the head. "But I'm working really hard on it!" she added eagerly. Putting her down, Dragon smiled at her. "OK honey. That's good. Keep working hard, ok?" An eager nod of the head, and she good-naturedly walked back to the table to keep working.

He smiled to himself. She's a good kid. I don't know how Mom and Dad did it, but they sure raised us right. She keeps this work ethic up, and she'll go far.
Down the hallway, he knocked on his other sister's door. "Come in." Opening it, he walked in and smiled at his other sister. "Hey Susan, I'm back. Just wanted to say hi."

Smiling broadly, his younger sister, older than Cindy by quite a bit, but still younger than him, came up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Did the job go ok? You haven't been back in a while."

Sighing, he sat down on her bed heavily. "No. It was a total bust. With one possible exception, every single one of the guys I worked with was a complete fragging amateur. It was unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. They literally pretty much quit mid-job. There was no way I could go it alone."

Sitting down at her desk, Susan looked at him empathetically. "Oh...are you ok? Did anyone make you?"

"No. No one made me. How could they?" He snorted derisively. "We didn't even make the attempt. When I say quit mid-job, I probably should say mid-planning. Never even happened."

Her eyes grew wide. "Are you serious? What about the Johnson? What's he going to say?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't know. I called him and gave him a status report. He has to get back to me. But it means all I got from that one was the advance, nothing else."

With a sly smile, she casually commented, "So maybe it was a good thing after all I took that scholarship, huh?" He looked up sharply and replied, "Don't start. You know I would've paid for your education and found a way. It's not like anyone here is going to starve, or we'll run short. Things might be a bit tight, but we'll manage. We always do."

She looked back at him unwaveringly, "I don't understand why you were so against it. The unit's been good to us. It's family. Hell, it's all any of us even grew up knowing. What's wrong with being in debt to it?"

"It's not towards the unit, just being in debt. That's what got mom and dad into the life in the first place. Just gives me an uneasy feeling."

"I understand." Rising, she walked over to him and sat down behind him, giving him a hug. "You still thinking about getting out?" Relaxing himself in her arms, Dragon replied, "I don't know. I really don't. Had to save someone today. Needed their info, but I got someone else killed in the process. Didn't mean to, but it happened. DocWagon wizworm made a comment, something about me starting to stray from who I really am. And he was right. Helping people, living a normal life..." He snorted. "I don't even know what a normal life is! I grew up with landmines in my front lawn and claymores determining the streets. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this normal business. Maybe none of us are."

Letting go and leaning back against the wall, Susan replied, "Christina didn't think that about you." Turning to face her, he replied dryly, "Yeah, but she didn't exactly know either."

Susan shrugged. "True. But the fact remains, if you really are nothing more than a soldier and a killer, it would show thorugh. No matter what she did or did not know. There's more to you, to all of us, than just that. You think mom and dad could've raised such a good family and good kids in these modern times if there wasn't more to us than that?"

Before Dragon could answer, their grandmother called from the kitchen, "Time to eat!" Dinner was peaceful and relaxing, as Dragon, his grandmother, and his sisters talked about what they had been up to in the days while he'd been working. It was good to be able to rest and relax, even if he did need to get back out into the field shortly.

After dinner, he helped clear the table and wash the dishes, then threw on his long coat. On his way out the door, he felt a tug at his coat. Looking down, he saw Cindy staring up at him with sorrowful eyes. "Are you going back to work?"

Kneeling down to look her in the eye, he nodded solemnly. Her eyes grew big and began filling with tears. "But...you promised that if I did all my homework, the next time you came home you'd watch cartoons with me after dinner!"

Did I promise her that? Damn...I think I did. Curse this Mnemonic Enhancer! I can't pretend like I didn't, cause I can remember I did. Blast! Aw...poor kid. I haven't been home for two weeks, and Grandma did mention that she's been very diligent, doing her homework as soon as she gets home every night in case I'm home, so I'll watch cartoons with her. Aw heck...work can wait till tomorrow, if it'll make her happy.

Smiling at her, he gave her a hug and said gently, "OK sweetie, you're right. I promised. And a promise is a promise. I didn't remember, I'm sorry."

Squeezing him tightly, she brushed away her tears and smiled. "That's ok Vincent."

Calling out from the family room, Grandma yelled, "Cindy-ah! Your TV is on!"

"OK Grandma!" Turning to Vincent, she said, "Go sit down! I need to get Dunkie!" Running back to her room as Dragon removed his coat and plopped himself on the couch, she returned a moment later, dutifully dragging a giant-sized 'Dunkie the Dragon' stuffed ani...er, dragon that Dragon had gotten for her a few years back.

Turning on the TV, she happily changed the channel to some random cartoon he'd never seen before. Snuggling up against him and cuddling Dunkie in her arms, Cindy proceeded to glue her eyes on the latest adventures of "Elsa the Elf Princess".

What on earth did she need me for here again? Yeesh. 'Elsa the Elf Princess'? What next, 'Timmy the Toxic Spirit'? Heh heh heh. Let's see them sell that one! Oh well, it makes her happy, and well, sitting at home watching cartoons with my little sister? It could be way worse than that. I could have people lying to me, shooting at me, double-crossing me...in short, I could be working. Oh well, tomorrow's another day...

And they sat on the couch and watched Elsa in her magical adventures together, letting the rest of the evening pass in peace, and quiet.

[SentineloftheMou...]

1600 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie had a good feeling about today. He accomplished many things and made it through with his sanity intacted.

He decides to order some dinner and goes to find Sara to see if she wants to make it for two.

[Sedna]

2330 January 5 2063, just outside the doss, coming home after a long day followed by a short shopping haul and a seemingly much longer target practice at Teaser Rat's

Anne didn't have to look up to know that the choppers had completely encircled her. "You're late with your payments," said one of the elves, a mocking edge of false gentleness playing in his voice.

She threw the credchip she'd received from Teresa at him, everything from her fingers to her shoulders twinging in protest at the movement. "Take it, you robbers."

Another elf snagged it easily out of the air. "This'll do," he said. "For now ..."

She picked up the bags she'd dropped and climbed the narrow staircase and put her key in the lock ... and then turned back: "Wait --"

[Sedna]

1945 January 5 2063- Dragon's Home

Well, most of the evening anyway. It was against Dragon's nature ever to turn off his cellphone, to take himself completely out of touch. This time, perhaps for the first time ever, he found himself regretting that part of necessity. Was that, perhaps, part of that "normality" that he always found himself looking at from the outside?

Susan came over to him, her sensitive hearing having picked up the soft vibrations. "Should I take her out?" she asked quietly, indicating Cindy where she lay curled against Dragon, still clutching her Dunkie though she was half-asleep. Not are you going to answer. She knew the nature of what he was as well as he did.

"No need," Dragon said just as quietly, carefully disentangling himself from the younger girl against her sleepy protests. "I'll take it in my room." Susan nodded and sat herself down in his place, balancing the room's Matrix terminal on her knee. The scholarship remained contingent on her final examination results, Dragon remembered. Not that he could see her slipping up in any way at this point. In her too, their parents' work ethic and sense of duty had become her own.

He sighed, and left, and flipped open the cellphone. "Dragon."

Somehow he'd known, even before he opened the connection and seen the familiar Latina features, that Sybersnake would be on the other end. At least he'd not have to worry about "good news"/"bad news" games. Sybersnake knew him too well for that -- and didn't disappoint this time. "Something local's come up, small, but it might bring in a few k's, and I heard you were in town and free ...?"

Dragon closed his eyes, closed out the blinking message light that told him he'd almost certainly have to deal with the Johnson's message next. Word travelled fast. Too fast, maybe, to do his reputation any good. And Sybersnake, being who she was, couldn't do other than tease him a little about it. "I might be."

"It's just a small thing," she repeated, studying her nails, "but it might need someone of your special talents."

Indeed? "Well, we can always talk about it. Here and now, or do you have a place in mind?" And if it's really "just a small thing", I might be able to work some easy nuyen around Virgil's crusade after all -- although somehow whenever someone mentions my special talents I sort of doubt it.

"Tommy Wong's, of course." Her expression seemed to say, where else? "Sometime tomorrow morning?" And then she had to add, "if you've got nothing else scheduled --"

"I'm free at 1100," growled Dragon. On occasion, Sybersnake had a very irritating habit of pushing it just that bit too far. Although, Dragon had to admit to himself, "too far" wasn't very far at all, today.

"And bring along that chummer of yours, Virgil, too. That should be enough ... well, maybe one more person, if you can think of someone who's a good muckraker."

On that enigmatic note the cellphone clicked off. Surprisingly short, for Sybersnake. From someone else, it might have seemed business as usual: there weren't all that many in the biz who'd see the point of wasting words on amenities such as "goodbye". But coming from Sybersnake, the exchange seemed uncharacteristically curt. Come to think of it, the decker hadn't shared all that much over the phone at all ... over a pair of cell frequencies she'd set up herself. And she'd suggested maybe adding an -- no, another -- information person?

Dragon closed his eyes. Certainly she was doing him a favour, giving him a piece of something that just might begin to repair his rep -- but this favour was beginning to feel as though it had two edges. Maybe he should have expected it, the way the rest of the day had been going: but why did he have the sudden sinking feeling that this wasn't going to be such a small thing after all?

[Sedna]

1600 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Sara seems startled to see Andie. "What are you -- who's watching -- oh!" She steps quickly past him and into the small room at the back to check the various crucibles and Bunsen burners and amend a small piece of chalked diagram where Andie's passage had blurred it.

With a small sigh of relief she turns back to him. "What's the first rule of enchanting?"

"Never, ever leave anything unwatched unless it's something you can seal, and then only after you seal it first," he recited dutifully and accurately. After a moment, as he made the practical connection: "oh."

"You were very fortunate this time," she said.

"But it's never doing anything, not really," he protested. "It's just simmering and cooking down. It's not like it's about to explode or something."

"Or something," she echoes, in quiet disbelief. Then she registers the sheer exhausted boredom on her student's features. "We'll talk about this later. For now, go, take a break, get something to eat. I'll close down up front and watch this for a couple of hours. Go on, get out of here."

[Sedna]

2332 January 5 2063, just outside the doss after a long day

Maybe one of the bikers heard her. The rest followed in a pack until once again they had encircled her, revving their engines at unpredictable intervals. It was, she supposed, to be an exercise in intimidation. "Well?" asked the biker at last, and Alleycat found herself almost smiling as she confirmed the voice of the one who had spoken first.

"I know we talked about this before," Alleycat began carefully. "Suppose I were to tell you that maybe now I could afford to buy that dart pistol you mentioned?"

"Suppose I told you you were too late, elf girl," he said levelly, his voice carrying neatly over the revving of the bikes and carrying all kinds of mocking overtones. "Maybe someone already snapped it up."

"I'd say there was always another where that one came from," she returned just as levelly, not taking her gaze from the place on the biker's helmet where his eyes should be, allowing her own voice to carry an echo of his own inflections. "I'd say it should come with ten clips, seven Narcoject, three G-S."

"Gamma-scopolamine?" The biker snorted. "Are you nuts?"

"Not if I'm talking to the right person." She allowed the smile to show slightly. "I think you're the right person, Corrin 'Talker'."

A prolonged few moments of mutual testing. Then, abruptly, "Talker" laughed. "You sure do have a way about you, missy," he drawled, letting the accent exaggerate itself. "If I were to get my hands on such a thing, the price might be ... considerable."

"Two thousand now --" She left it trailing, and he picked it up and named a figure that might have made another blanch, but to which Alleycat just nodded. Never mind that she didn't actually have the money yet. She would.

Past time to pay a visit to Black Tony.

"Oh, one more thing," she said without raising her voice, letting her words stand in the air until the revving seemed to die of its own accord to allow them to be heard. "I'll be looking for a basic workshop," she said into the new silence. "Chem and biochem. A kit will do for now, but medium-term I'll be looking for a facility. Materials and equipment is good, with its own place is better."

Talker let out a low whistle. "You're sure asking a lot for a person who didn't have two nuyen to her name a month ago."

"Yes," said Alleycat as she released the smile, showing the teeth.

[Sedna]

2335 January 5 2063, Anne's doss

After the bikers had left, Anne picked up the bags she'd dropped and climbed the narrow staircase and put her key in the lock -- and fell over the same low table. She'd have to move it -- no, right now, before it was overlooked again amid all the other things she was trying to do.

A soft sigh. At least she'd remembered earlier to ask Grail to copy and erase Teresa's cellphone number out of the chip. For a moment, she was so completely exhausted that she couldn't for the life of her see why that would be a good idea. Rest, too, is a weapon ... but she'd gotten a couple of hours the night before before she'd dived into the Matrix and set the knowbots loose, and for now she could soykaf it. And she could always sleep on the way south, if she had to. She certainly wasn't planning on driving it. (Note to self: remember to ask Blaze how he planned to deal with any wards in the place, if he went astral. She couldn't see it likely that they'd carpet the entire camp, but if it was indeed an extraction rather than a rescue, where the boy was being held very well could be warded.)

First, soykaf. She set it dripping while she moved over to the hanging bag of rice and emptied out the cockroach trap at the top. Maybe she'd get a proper cleaning drone next: let it deal with the insects.

Next she emptied out her bags. Basic purchases, all legit, all against her "Anne" SIN. First came the neat, little wrist computer with its built-in scanner she'd bought with the SIN into whose identity she'd grown. ("Buy everything legit using the new SIN," echoed Hobbes' voice in her memory. "The government likes to see identifiable income and outgo.") Very light on memory for now, not even pocket secretary weight, but with tonnes of memory space which could be added later. A basic set of proper weights followed, and then a paper carton of some unidentifiable ethnic takeout that was neither a stew nor a stir-fry nor involved rice or noodles in any way, shape or form. A bunch of optical storage chips: she'd be using some of those tonight. A few articles of clothing, all used, that almost doubled her existing wardrobe: those she dumped into the dry-washer and started up the cycle. Finally came a small permanent printer/embosser which she hadn't bought with the Anne SIN (or even in the Anne persona, she'd blackened her hair, worn something baggy and dirty and the darkest sunglasses she could find) but with cash freed up from the advance, along with a couple of rolls of slightly heavier paper which would accept and hold the dimples well without leaving any visible sign of their existence and while still allowing overprinting.

Alleycat smiled to herself. In a cyber-savvy world, it was so often the simplest "codes" which were the first forgotten. When the kit arrived, she'd be ready.

She set the printer/embosser beside the apartment's Matrix unit without hooking it up; then jacked in to see what information the open-access Matrix and Shadowland knowbots had left for her.

[paul_HArkonen]

1035 January 5 2063, Blaze's doss

A long shower after the night's late escapades was in order. Quite a varied group of people, although no straight muscle. Grabbing a small cup of soykaf Blaze begins cleaning himself and picks out a nice suit of cloathing, and promptly coveres it with his trademark red coat, and grabs his Shades. Picking up the phone he gives Max a call.

This call needed to be made a long time ago. "Hey Max, It's me, Blaze, I have quite a few things I need to talk to you about, but I'd prefer to do it in person today. How about we meet at Caveman Kate's at about 3 today?"

After his brief call to Max Blaze calls up Squall. As the call goes through the standard serries of routings and reroutings Blaze can't help but let his mind wander. How am I going to save Melissa. I can't even effectively save myself from self pitty, how can I protect her. I will do something, All of this run's money is going into paying for a search team to find her, and I can lead an extraction run. But where's she going to stay...

His private meanderings are interupted as Squall picks up the line."What is it Blaze?" It always creeped Blaze out as to how he did that, but he's one of the best, and that's why Blaze works with him. "Hey Squall, I have something I'd like you to do for me, if its ok. I don't need a Matrix search persay, but I'd like you to keep your eyes on Shadowland for a magical group of Leopard Shaman." Squall's response iscurt and short, just like always "Done". Blaze can then hear the click of the phone hanging up.

Picking up the phone once more Blaze calls up the last person on his short list of contacts, George. Not a mage persay George is one of the best talismongers Blaze knows. It's his focus around Blaze's neck, and carved to reflect their shared tradition as well. "Hello, George? this is Blaze."
"Hey Blaze what's up?"
"I need a favor from you."
"Sure what is it?"
"I'm looking for a group, preferably of a similar belief to me. I'm working towards improving my connection with Leopard."
"Sure I can try to find that group for you, I'm not sure how long it may take, but it should be doable."
"Thanks, I'll come by the shop and help out as soon as I get a chance, and I may even have a little extra to spend this time."

[banditf50]

1830 January 5, 2063 - Virgil's Shop

"Drek that's sore," Virgil groaned as he rubbed a particulary discolored bruise on his left shoulder. With the adrenaline pumping over the last few hours, I forgot about how much mana I slung.

Making is way over to his freezer Virgil could feel the combined effects of the days summoning and spellcasting, not to mention the beating he'd taken attempting to dispatch that rouge fire-elemental. It's all coming back to me now. . that's certain.

The frosty air billowing out of the freezer enticed Virgil to stand there for a moment and bask in the icy refreshment. Grabbing a gel-pack and a frozen sausge pizza Virgil stepped across the tiny kitchenette to toss the pizza in the oven and set a timer. Sure isn't Chicago deep-dish, but I think I'm hungry enough to even consider eating a soy-burger now.

While his pizza was toasting away Virgil picked up his cell-phone and punched out the number for Inleat's office. He'll be at home now for sure, but I need to get rolling on things. After a minute of fruitless ringing Virgil was treated (or subjected to) the squeaky voice of Inleat's message system.

"Inleat this is Virgil. I have some things to discuss with you and was hoping you'd let me treat you to afternoon tea tommorow. I can be reached at this number. Good evening."

That being done Virgil still saw 15 mintues remaining on the pizza timer. Seizing the oppurtnity he stepped into the shop's tiny bathroom and turned on the shower. As he waited for the bathroom to fill with steam Virgil swallowed two advil from his medicine cabinet while examining himself in the mirror. You don't look too bad for wear chum, couple nasty bruises, but a good night's sleep will heal most of the damage.

Stepping under the hot flow of water Virgil did his best to massage the bruised areas of his body, better to keep the blood flowing now than to wake up stiffer than a 90-year old man in the morning. As he let the steaming water of the shower relax his muscles Virgil thought about the impending conflicts. If him and Dragon were to achieve any measure of success it would be absolutely vital that they stay ahead on the information game.

I can run through a myriad number of parties whose interests conflict with ours, but that list means nothing if I can't support it with actual intel. Contacting Inleat was the first step. Virgil and the elven mage had shared a mutally beneficial relationship over the past 2 years . . . no reason not to continue the meeting of the minds.