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

[banditf50]

1412 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Jackson`s Office - Redmond Barrens

Peering into Jackson's aura Knight spied a few darkened patches characteristic of cyber modification. His eyes were obviously technological replacements and he was equipped with headware of some type, not uncommon for a solider, yet seemingly light on modifications for man who seemed to have a mercenary background.

Also burning clear and bold upon the man's astral signature was the unmistakeable sign of irritation. Which only became clearer to Knight as Jackson addressed him.

"Perhaps I am out of touch with how business is conducted up North. Perhaps your silvery tongue has been a benefit to you in the past. Around here though you'd be best served to call it like it is. A man show up on my doorstep fresh in town and hard-up for work, I'd be a damn fool that his reason for moving to Seattle is purely a desire to explore the unique culture."

He shoots Knight a deathly glare. The kind that can only be experienced by a new recruit thrown fresh before a seasoned drill instructor.

"Spell slinger you may be, even the word of a friend only goes so far when I got a list of battled hardened men eager as you."

Coming around from behind his desk Jackson stalked forward till he stood a few steps away from Knight. Staring him up and down, sizing the lithe elf up with a laser-like precision, his booming voice broke the still office once more as if it was merely another drill yard.

"I am a fair man and I believe that every lad should have a chance to plead his case." Crossing his arms across his chest Jackson never broke eye-contact. "You tell me why you think I should give you work, why you instead of someone who's cut their teeth in the area already."

[Sedna]

1436 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

"I'm a reporter," says Tiffany quietly, watching the struggling woman. "It's what I do. What I saw back there shook me, sure. Still does. And I still want out of here, but my clues are inside that woman's head and an exchange on Shadowland."

She turns to face Dragon directly. "And if I'm ever in the same position as her, leave me there."

[Moirdryd]

14:14 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Jackson`s Office - Redmond Barrens

Dammit, Knight, stop acting like your in the Tir and get with the game he berates himself mentally.

"My apologies, Mr Jackson, i was not aware you were intimately informed of my recent travelling details" His tone changes from lyrical and soft into something much more hard and business like.

Thanks, Calvin, perhaps i should have stressed that people other than that two bit dust-dealer Ambrose are keen to find me, but then i guess you know what your doing in regards to this guy. I hope you know what your doing anyway.

"Why hire me?, because i`m here. I`m good at what I do, and given who sent me here, what i do is what you need. Yes, I`m new to these shadows, but because i`m intending to stay awhile I`m going to need Cred and a Rep...thats a lot of motivation to do what you need doing right. Also i`m probably a bit more expendable than some of your more familiar `employees` and i`m guessing i dont cost as much...yet. " he unfolds his hands and flicks a stray hair back over his ear "your break down. I`m cheaper, as good if not better, cant afford to frag up anything and you loose less if something happens to me" he pauses a moment to let it sink in.

Hope that works,

"So, shall we do business, Mr Jackson?"

[banditf50]

1416 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Jackson's Office - Redmond Barrens

Feeling just the most miniscule tinge of anticipation Knight is able to keep a stoic and cool exterior as he holds his gaze locked with Jackson's. A moment that stretches into what could have easily been several minutes passes and Knight is rewarded with just the slightest flicker rippling across Jackson's aura. Cutting across what was once an aura awash with annoyance and irritation is just the smallest hint of intrigue . . .followed by what Knight recognized as a bit of appeasement.

Though his stone-cut face did not waver an inch Knight's aural readings were given some vocal confirmation as Jackson's next words took on a tone with slightly less annoyance.

"What type of mage are you? The openings for a combat mage are far different than those say, for a healer."

"Can you summon? Do you have any experience in astral security?"

[SentineloftheMou...]

1135 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


As Andie points it out on the sketch he says, "Well, there is short L-shaped hallway here in the middle of the bottom and top floors that connects all the rooms together. There will be doors here, here, here, and here into the rooms." Andie draws the doors on the sketch where they should go.

"The living area is split into four areas and needs a small bathroom and kitchen with an area for his bed and an area for his home office." Andie pauses to make sure the Solomon is following along.

"I was thinking about making the upper floor hallway floor a metal grate catwalk, have the elevator lift with door opening into the hall and the upper workshop area, and have a staircase up to the upper floor next to the elevator." Andie makes the appropriate marks on the sketch for these features.

"I want to set aside this area for hydroponics area, so I can grow herbs and plants for the shop. As a result I'll need you at least rough in the plumbing for it. The store front area will basically be one big room with display cases, bookshelfs, and cabinets."

Andie shrugs. "I'm not an architect either Solomon, but these are the ideas I had for the place. You contractors should have a better idea about what is possible and what isn't."

[Sedna]

1136 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

"The distinction is that contractors follow established plans," says Solomon dryly "-- or should. But architects have to make those plans first. As to what is and is not possible --" a corner of his mouth quirked, almost a smile, as one hand absently rubbed at his temple "-- architects and contractors sometimes have differences of opinion over that."

"Are you saying I should hire an architect?" asks Andie cautiously, seeing more of his money slipping away.

"Let me see," says Solomon, still studying the diagrams as the mage sketches out his intent. "The scale is 1 to 1 metre, yes? Then you will be extending the second storey floors a bit further from the walls than they are now ... I think it was 5 metres currently? But you are placing the elevator shaft in the middle and adding the stairs next to it, and the rest of the open space to be filled in with metal grating. You will need to rough in a second stairwell somewhere though: code. And your plumbing is all over the place. In general, it is usually cheaper to keep all water-drawing facilities together, or at least along the same linear main pipe."

He glanced up: "What will you be doing about warding the place?"

[SentineloftheMou...]

1136 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie listens intently to Solomon's remarks and considers the sketch again. "Hmm... Well, the rooms are fairly modular within the plan. To address the water pipes in a central location we could rotate the hydroponics area 90 degrees so it's along the back wall of the building and move the storage area from where it is now by rotating it 90 degrees and putting it along the side wall between the store front area and the hydroponics area; keeping the double doors in relatively the same place. Then rotate the kitchen and bathroom areas 90 degrees within the living area." Andie makes the modifications to the sketch accordingly.

"This would basically put all water lines along the back wall of the building." Andie pauses while considering the modifications and any comments from Solomon.

"As for wards I had planned to basically make every wall in the building a ward. The only exception would be in the upper floor 2 magic shop work areas. Eventually there will be a ward separating the two work areas evenly down the middle of the room when I get enough money for another set of workshop equipment."

Andie looks at the sketch again; moving the areas of detail around in his mind. "That second staircase though will be hard to fit into the floor plan."

[Sedna]

1138 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

The fixer frowns. "You may have problems, if you separate out each ward like that. The structure of wards implies completeness, wholeness, an underlying unity of balanced identity. Here you have them in constant dissonance with each other: single planes, sharp corners, sharp edges." He sounds distinctly curious as he returns to the diagrams: "I do not know what the result of that would be."

After some time he asks, "Where did you intend to put the chimney? And the air exchange vents for the venting hoods?" And then pauses: "Why are the work areas on the second floor? You have the solid cement flooring and drains, and instead you build in a much weaker overhead floor extension?"

[grendel]

23:07:30 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

A cold wind slices through the streets as Tenmou makes his way up the front steps to his apartment. Dark clouds hang over the Sound, and the air is heavy with moisture. The city shivers as it sleeps, nightmares creeping through the shadows in the streets.

[WinterRat1]

1437 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

"If it comes to that," Dragon nods, in acknowledgement of Tiffany's wish, "I'll put you down myself. Friends wouldn't let friends die like that."

Smiling the tired, weary smile that telegraphs a joke from someone who's just seen too much too fast, yet needs something lighthearted, anything, to relieve some of the tension, she answers, "What makes you think we're friends?"

Pausing, playing along, pretending to take it seriously, Dragon thinks for a moment, then answers, "Well then, I guess I'll just have to leave you."

Despite the subject matter, they both find themselves smiling at the joke, perhaps because when told in that way, the grim reality seems far off, disconnected, like it happened on the trid or something.

And then Dragon feels the woman jerk and convulse underneath him, mouth open in a silent scream, and reality comes crashing back down on them like a wave, bringing the somber tension back into the room as quickly as it had left.

[SentineloftheMou...]

1139 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


Andie listens to Solomon's comments about the location of the work areas and store front areas and nods. "I had thought about that, but I wasn't sure how having the store front on the second floor would affect the foot traffic of people entering the building vs having the store front area on the first floor. I figured people would be more apt to enter a store on the first floor than climbing stairs to a second floor store. What do you think??"

[Sedna]

1437 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

And just before the convulsion becomes visible to those not holding the woman, Tiffany adds, her mouth still shaping a smile: "Just another 'adventure', Dragon?"

He's about to say something -- top her quip? tell her he'll get back to her later when he's not busy? It's what he might have said to a combat buddy during a brief lull ... but at the last moment, something in her tone registers.

She's seen him at the alley. From everything he's seen and Global's told him, she's not forgotten that. (Although maybe, just for a moment when she'd returned from taping ... that ... she had.) And he suddenly realises that when she'd been at her most open, most honest: she'd not been smiling.

Whatever he would have said, dies unspoken. Whatever she could be, whatever could be, between them: she's not one of his combat buddies. She never will be. There is fighting in this woman, there is a resistance deep and unyielding, and a cool head under fire -- but she'll never be one of his combat buddies.

Maybe, just maybe, she could still be his friend ... if he hasn't blown it already.

Too much to think on. Too fragile to rush it. If he bungles it this time, he'll have blown it forever.

He's busy just now, anyway.

[Sedna]

1139 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

With a soft, unvoiced sigh Solomon settles behind the counter. Still examining the plans, he says quietly, "They do call the initial step in all enchantments 'grounding' for a reason."

[Sedna]

1437 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

The more Virgil's trying to bring across a sense of positive seeking, of holding out his hand in friendship and healing to her, the more she struggles against it. There is no part of this woman that trusts kindness -- and honour she trusts even less.

There it is, a name: Sheena Yarquela. She'd fought against that one fiercely, and though he hadn't wanted to hurt her, it came loose as if torn from her very soul. Yet even as the name came into his mind the moment of brief victory soured: not real, no more real than who this woman had thought she was when she'd been at the gaming house, that day ...

Virgil blinks, even as another part of him feels the searing nerve edges of imposed memory and data filtres and skillwires. The person who'd been at the clinic when it burned wasn't the same as the one born into this body. This one had served her oyabun lord well during the days, and during the nights come crawling back to him again and again, begging for the kiss of the razor

(-- while another part of her knew every part of it and lay hidden. maybe that was why the eyes remained natural --)

I can heal her only if I restore her to her true self, Virgil realises, but then I take the risk of permanently losing the information we need from her.

[WinterRat1]

1437 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

As abruptly as the sudden convulsion that wracked the woman's body came the realization of just how wide a chasm there was between his life and a 'normal' person's life. She was jaded and cynical, sure. Hardened even on the brink of life and death, no.

Easily holding down the woman despite her struggles, he fights for the right words, words that will help her understand him, that he's not a monster...at least, not all the time.

"I'm...sorry..." he slowly speaks, and softly enough for her to hear, but perhaps not to disturb or draw the attention of Virgil or Father Bremen. "I shouldn't have joked with you like that. It was not appropriate. And I'm sorry for how I acted back in the alley. This isn't a war zone, and that girl wasn't the enemy."

Her eyes say...what? He couldn't tell. A lot hung on his words, or perhaps lack thereof, but his soul, what little he had left, couldn't bridge the gap between knowing that something needed to be said, to knowing what needed to be said.

"I don't know what to say, other than I'm sorry. I'm not always like that...instincts just kicked in." He lowers his head slightly, then raises it, meeting her eyes and holding them steadily.

"I know that's not an excuse, or any sort of justification. I just want you to know, the person you saw back on the Waterfront, that wasn't a show. I meant what I said then, and that's who I am. I'm a soldier, not a monster. But sometimes, I admit, that line looks pretty thin."

The woman jerked a few more times, once almost shooting up despite his grip, but he readjusted and held her firmly, and she seemed to settle down into a more relaxed state for a bit.

Still silence. He wasn't used to this. Sybersnake always had something to say, rational or not, in the heat of emotions...but Tiffany was calm, collected, composed. He didn't know exactly what to make of it, he didn't know her well enough to know what this meant.

Looking away, he finishes, "I know you've seen what you've seen and heard what you heard, and you'll make your judgments of me based upon those things. I can't do anything about that. I just want you to know that I am sorry for certain ways you've seen me act, and I just ask that you keep things in perspective when making your assessment of me."

He left it deliberately open, knowing that really, she would think of him what she would, and really, what could he do about it? He was who he was. A soldier, a fighter, a warrior, a killer, and yes, sometimes a monster. But he was more than that too. He wanted to tell her she couldn't define him based on two days of knowing him, that she shouldn't rush to conclusions about him...but he knew he'd be lying. Out in the field, you could and did decide about people in less time than that, God knows he'd done exactly that. There was nothing else to be said, really...except maybe one last thing.

"If I may ask, would you mind telling me what you're thinking? I know I don't have any right to know...but I would like to."

Dragon didn't have to explain what exactly it was he wanted to know in regards to what she was thinking about. She was smart enough to know, and they both knew it. What do you think about me? What are you thinking behind that silent mask? That was what Dragon really wanted to ask, but he couldn't. All he could do was wait, and see what, if anything, she chose to share.

[Moirdryd]

14:18 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Jackson's Office - Redmond Barrens

"Offensive and tactical spellcasting are my forte`, Mr Jackson. I dont generally deal with Illusions. " Knight answered the questions simply, keeping the business tone of voice he had adapted and that seemed to be working to Jackson`s approval "and yes I can summon spirits and deal with them also. Astral security? I`ve a rudimentary understanding of its practices. Enough to know how wildly those practices vary amongst the Mega-Corporations and Governments of the world."

Knight looks up and meets Jackson`s gaze again, idly he toys with the cuff of his coat giving a moments pause in speaking to let Jackson consider what he`s just said.

"I also know well how to use the gun and blade I left with your doormen" a small smile touches his lips "its useful to diversify a little. Now, Mr Jackson, do you need to know anymore?" Knight quirked a brow as he waited for the large man`s response.

[Shadowrunner13]

23:07:30 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou took the stairs up to his apartment, feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders. As he stepped into his apartment, he locked his door behind him, and staggered over to the chair in front of the trid. Dropping his bag of gear beside his chair, he slumped into the old furniture and stared blankly at the powerless trid for a moment.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the chip Akiko had given him. He contemplated popping it into a chip reader to see if it would shed any light on what he had seen tonight. In the end, Tenmou slid the chip back into his pocket and pulled the remote for the trid from around the seat cushion. After his evening with Akiko, he needed a distraction.

[SentineloftheMou...]

1150 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


Andie get up from the workbench and checks on the circulation's progress; making sure no damage was done to it from the storm.

He then walks back to the workbench to rethink the sketch of the floor plan for the magic shop and starts drawing again. What about this??......

He then takes it to Solomon in the front of the store to get his opinion. "Hey, Solomon. How about this??", and shows Solomon the new sketch. 'This seems to work a little better than the last sketch. Take a look."

[Sedna]

1438 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Had the reporter's eyes softened, just a little? Had she been willing to re-define what she knew of him, yet again?

Out in the field, you could and did decide about people in two days, two hours, sometimes in two minutes -- life and death decisions, most of those. Maybe that had been in the back of his mind when he'd first pulled Tiffany in for a casual investigation into an interest of Virgil's, when he'd tried to steer her to one of those snap judgements about him ... but as he wanted her to see him, ignoring a basic reality of his existence.

He was in the field, here. He'd snapped into field mode the first time their investigation had looked to go hot, the first time he'd been thwarted, the first time he'd found himself with less than perfect intelligence about his environment, and maybe he'd never really left it since. ... Except when he was at home, with Cindy and Susan and his grandmother. He shied away from even linking the two thoughts in his mind. That territory was sancrosanct.

Tiffany let out a breath, tension visibly tightening her shoulders as she watched the woman on the bed -- never once looking at him, oh no -- and Dragon wanted more than ever to know what was going through her mind, needed to know, with an intensity that surprised him.

But why should it surprise him? He'd always needed to know. Territory had to be considered hostile until it could be controlled. As a scout, his job had been to obtain, from hostile territory, the information the rest of his unit needed to gain and maintain future control. Information was power, and what was power but the ability to completely control another, preferably of their own free will?

Still not taking her eyes from the woman, Tiffany said at last, "Have you discovered the difference between adventure and life yet?" And then, when he was about to open his mouth to answer her, she shook her head sharply: "Don't answer me now. We have work to do here, and it's not something you could answer quickly, not if you're going to actually think about it. You've led way too sheltered a life."

And before the retort leaped easily to Dragon's mouth -- sheltered life? him??! -- he choked it back. The reporter had to have at least as many sources of information as he did, more, probably. She'd had the time to have him checked out -- in fact, she'd demonstrated a part of that knowledge. She probably knew at least as much of his life as he did of hers, and very possibly more.

She wasn't stupid.

Knowing what he knew of her, he'd been deliberately playing on her trigger points before, seeking quickly to wedge her into an almost non-existent circle of true friends, on the basis of a snap judgement. Why hadn't it occurred to him that, knowing what she did of him, she might also have some thoughts of her own, and maybe even the willingness to act on them?

[Sedna]

1150 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Again the plans are studied in silence. "Quite a large workshop area, that," says Solomon at last. "At least twice as large as this one, I believe. While it is not strictly necessary for a conjuring circle to be grounded in the same way as forged enchantments, most conjurers seem to find it useful. Still, if you were to divide that space in half, move the ritual area to the other half, you could restore grounding capacity for both purposes." He paused. "Or did you have a specific reason for suspending the ritual area?"

[banditf50]

1420 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Jackson's Office - Redmond Barrens

With a grunt that Knight assumed passed for a sign of approval Jackson hoisted his leg off the chair and stalked back over to his desk where he tapped a few commands onto the keyboard resting there. Peering at the resulting display for a moment Jackson grunted again in the same 'satisfied' tone as he grabbed a remote control from his desk and head back towards the conference table.

Taking a cross armed stance near at the head of the table Jackson proceeded on in a noticeably different tone. No longer ripe with irritation, now very mechanical and sharp as he began extolling details to Knight.

"An associate of mine currently operates a halfway house here in the Barrens where he takes in people whom are victims of some of the local hazards native to these streets."

The tone in Jackson's voice makes it very clear that the steak of altruism posses by this associate is not something to be looked at as a weakness.

"He is looking for some additional security and surveillance assistance to keep recon on the surrounding area and to help locate those who might be in need of his services. Were you to accept the job you would be tasked with astral patrol of the few blocks surrounding the halfway to be aware of any impending gang outbreaks and helping to protect the house from any violence that might stray too close to it's doors."

"I am told that the only threats you would face would be non-magical in nature and that most gang skirmishes usually occur well away from the location of the halfway house. The expected overall threat level for this task is low."

Pausing for a moment to let Knight process the details of the potential job, Jackson proceeds onward.

"I am authorized to provide you the sum of 1,000 :nuyen: in cash or cred upon your acceptance of the job and provide you with details on the location of the halfway house. This job may also be of special interest to you based on your fresh arrival into Seattle, my associate has also agreed that he will provide you with complete food and lodging for the duration of your services. You may also negotiate further compensation from him based on how long you would be providing your services."

Jackson pauses now, the remote control tapping slightly against his crossed arm as he waits for Knight to pass a decision on what has been placed before him.

[Moirdryd]

14:28 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Jackson's Office - Redmond Barrens

Knight nods a little as he listens and his eyebrow remains raised as he mentally asses the job.

Astral patrol, surveilance and potential security as well as providing some meat and magic security in the more basic form of spell slinging. For a halfway house in such a place it makes some sense, but a request for magic? hmm could be a little something extra going down at the halfway house, or I`m overly cautious. his only visable reaction was a tilt of his head as Jackson continued. But then cautious keeps a runner alive.

With another small nod as Jackson finished speaking he allowed a couple of seconds to pass.

"I`ll take the job and the nuyen upfront i`ll carry as cred. Since its the proprietor of the establishment who is footing the bill and handling the details once i leave here Mr Jackson, then i`ll speak with him about length of contract and other such concerns." he straightens the collar of his coat and brushes imagined creases out of its front and looks pointedly at the remote in Jackson`s hand. "are there any other details to be processed before I meet your associate?" he rests back again awaiting the other man`s response and browsing through the details again.

Halfway house in the Barrens. If this info is on the up and up its a good place to start working these shadows and keep a head down for a while. Also pretty good place to get the feel of the gangs and other street life, at least in the local area. Again good. Good a friend as you are Portia precious trust has a very limited length in the shadows, especially with my tails. A little more local bases to touch with are certainly going to be beneficial in the long run.

[WinterRat1]

1440 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

As hard as it was, especially with that slap in the face about being sheltered, Dragon found himself nodding in acceptance of her words. In some, perhaps even many, respects, she was right. Sure, he'd grown up around violence and death, killing and atrocity. Yes, he'd killed people, early in his life and often since, sometimes with little or no remorse, sometimes even with a dark pleasure. And though he was no stranger to the darkest, most base side of human nature, there was more to him than that.

And the reporter had demonstrated that she'd known that as well. With one comment, she showed that she understood there was more to him than the darkness. For inside the destruction and death, sheltered away from the darkness that permeated so much of his life, there was always his family. There were his friends, few and precious as they were. There was the unit.

Really, when you looked at it, he'd grown up in a stable, loving family, and a caring, tight-knit community. Sure, it was a merc community, but when one stopped to think about it, there was a lot of good to be said for growing up like that. How often did anyone in the Sixth World get family, let alone a community, like that these days?

"I understand, we'll discuss it later," he finally spoke, interrupting his own thoughts. She responded simply, nodding her head only slightly. "There is one thing I would like to say though, before this discussion is closed."

Tiffany cocked her head to the left a bit, looking at him curiously, no doubt wondering what he'd come up with next in all of this. This discussion...this relationship, that had taken so many quick and unexpected twists and turns since they first met, a mere two days ago.

Slowing, haltingly, choosing his words with great care, Dragon said, "Before...when you asked me if we were friends. I apologized once and do so again for misinterpreting your comment as a joke. It was wrong of me, and insensitive as well. I treated you like I would another soldier in a war zone."

He paused, searching for a response in her eyes. But nothing. No surprises there though. Caught off guard the first time they spoke, she certainly guarded herself well when she was prepared to. Pushing on, he added, "You are not a soldier, and I am not in a war zone, instincts aside. You're a person, with feelings and history too, just like me. I want you to know I don't take that lightly, and I'm sorry that I was insensitive to you when I joked inappropriately. I would like to respond to your question in the way I would have responded had I taken it seriously, like I should have."

Now he saw something, just the slightest bit of curiosity. He could tell that his apology caught her off guard slightly, perhaps all the more so for its repetition and sincerity. The rough tough soldier apologizing? Showing sensitivity? Or at least, trying to? Where on earth had this come from?

Searching a moment for the best way to conclude, he finally decided on the simple, straightforward approach. "You asked me if we are friends. I would say that the answer is as dependent on you as it is on me." He takes a deep breath, and finishes, "But from where I stand, I would like to be able to consider you a friend. And I hope that you would view me the same way."

Holding up a hand before she can say anything, he continues, "I understand that friendship takes time, and it's far too premature for either one of us to call the other a friend. At least, not in any way that actually means anything. Nonetheless, my answer is that whether we are or are not friends at this point in time, one day I would like us to be. Does that answer your question?"

Looking into her eyes, he believed he finally saw something there. What, he didn't know, but at the least, he had done the best he could do to clear up his stupid mistake. That would have to be enough. Of course, if she would respond to his query, that certainly wouldn't be a bad thing in his mind...

[WinterRat1]

1440 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

As hard as it was, especially with that slap in the face about being sheltered, Dragon found himself nodding in acceptance of her words. In some, perhaps even many, respects, she was right. Sure, he'd grown up around violence and death, killing and atrocity. Yes, he'd killed people, early in his life and often since, sometimes with little or no remorse, sometimes even with a dark pleasure. And though he was no stranger to the darkest, most base side of human nature, there was more to him than that.

And the reporter had demonstrated that she'd known that as well. With one comment, she showed that she understood there was more to him than the darkness. For inside the destruction and death, sheltered away from the darkness that permeated so much of his life, there was always his family. There were his friends, few and precious as they were. There was the unit.

Really, when you looked at it, he'd grown up in a stable, loving family, and a caring, tight-knit community. Sure, it was a merc community, but when one stopped to think about it, there was a lot of good to be said for growing up like that. How often did anyone in the Sixth World get family, let alone a community, like that these days?

"I understand, we'll discuss it later," Dragon finally spoke, interrupting his own thoughts. She responded simply, nodding her head only slightly. "There is one thing I would like to say though, before this discussion is closed."

Tiffany cocked her head to the left a bit, looking at him curiously, no doubt wondering what he'd come up with next in all of this. This discussion...this relationship, that had taken so many quick and unexpected twists and turns since they first met, a mere two days ago.

Slowing, haltingly, choosing his words with great care, Dragon said, "Before...when you asked me if we were friends. I apologized once and do so again for misinterpreting your comment as a joke. It was wrong of me, and insensitive as well. I treated you like I would another soldier in a war zone."

He paused, searching for a response in her eyes. But nothing. No surprises there though. Caught off guard the first time they spoke, she certainly guarded herself well when she was prepared to. Pushing on, he added, "You are not a soldier, and I am not in a war zone, instincts aside. You're a person, with feelings and history too, just like me. I want you to know I don't take that lightly, and I'm sorry that I was insensitive to you when I joked inappropriately. I would like to respond to your question in the way I would have responded had I taken it seriously, like I should have."

Now he saw something, just the slightest bit of curiosity. He could tell that his apology caught her off guard slightly, perhaps all the more so for its repetition and sincerity. The rough tough soldier apologizing? Showing sensitivity? Or at least, trying to? Where on earth had this come from?

Searching a moment for the best way to conclude, Dragon finally decided on the simple, straightforward approach. "You asked me if we are friends. I would say that the answer is as dependent on you as it is on me." He took a deep breath, and finished, "But from where I stand, I would like to be able to consider you a friend. And I hope that you would view me the same way."

Holding up a hand before she can say anything, he continues, "I understand that friendship takes time, and it's far too premature for either one of us to call the other a friend. At least, not in any way that actually means anything. Nonetheless, my answer is that whether we are or are not friends at this point in time, one day I would like us to be. Does that answer your question?"

Looking into her eyes, he believed he finally saw something there. What, he didn't know, but at the least, he had done the best he could do to clear up his stupid mistake. That would have to be enough. Of course, if Tiffany would respond to his query, he certainly wouldn't mind...

[Sedna]

1441 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Well, she still hasn't answered after what was rapidly becoming a long time. Dragon's not at all sure how to take that. To be perfectly honest, a part of him is starting to become irritated. He's listened to her. He's thinking about what she said, even though some of it frankly wasn't fair -- and yet it was, and that's not really helping. He's apologised -- twice now -- and frag it all, he meant it! What does this woman want?

Behind her glasses, Tiffany blinks. It's the first movement she's made since she'd cocked her head, waiting for him to say his one thing. And that's when he realises.

She's speechless. She, who makes her living by her looks and her quick tongue, hasn't said anything because she literally doesn't know what to say.

The silence stretches and envelopes the two of them -- and now that Dragon knows she's on just as unfamiliar territory as him, somehow it's no longer an awkward silence.

"I think ..." she says at last, slowly; and then again: "I think, maybe, you're worth knowing." And then the ironic laugh, but this time genuine, half in an exhaled release, maybe more than half at herself: "That didn't come out right, did it?"