To B&E or not to B&E, Surreptitiously, that is the question Options

[Sphynx]

"Willy Jack.... I know that name. He ain't all that, only reason he's so good is his tech, but I could take him.", Seymour grinned as a thought crossed his mind, "I bet he's one of those nerd types that sits behind a computer all day, overweight, living in momma's basement, only bad-ass cause he ain't got to look you in the eye when he calls you those names." It's frightfully obvious that Seymour really doesn't think he just described himself in a way, after all, he's a Shadowrunner, not someone fantasizing about what it would be like to run in the shadows. "Hah, *snort* Heh I bet his mommy even does his laundry!", he starts to laugh so much that he can't control himself. Tears roll down his eyes everytime one of his gutteral throat snorts breaks his laughter. The wide eyes and raised eyebrows of those around him doesn't seem to have even the slightest deterrent on his laughter, and soon almost everyone is laughing from the contagious laughter. Not so much because Seymour is funny, AND HE IS FUNNY!, but because you just can't keep a straight face when someone is laughing this hard. Every once in awhile, he almost straightens up, then says "laundry" out loud and is off into bursts of laughter again.

After a few minutes he does calm down, but with all the attention on the table, the conversation gets delayed even longer, which throughout Seymour apologizes, though often through weak giggles. Oh well, it wasn't that funny anyhows. Seymour had only started doing his own laundry recently, and only cause his mom walked into his bedroom and noticed that he always had the same 3 outfits washed, and everything else was dirty and on the floor. She's probably go back to doing his laundry again once he got his room cleaned up, but drinking beers with the guys was a higher priority. Even she agreed with that.

[Drain Brain]

"Erm, riiiiiight." Sands leant back a little and stretched out his shoulders.

"I have to pop to the 'mongers if we're going to be getting some serious work, see what I can get my grubby paws on. I'm all out of useful contacts for the technical side of the world - maybe you guys can come up with more.

"Bell me on the cell if you need me... laters..."

Standing up from the table, Sands kindly returned the chair whence he found it.

Outside, in his grubby old Americar, he lit a cigarette and pulled out into the traffic, heading for Diore's Talismonger shop, "Magicae Pulcher Novus."

[Sphynx]

Seymour watched as the elves returned, their demeanors showing they were looking for a fight. The others at the table looked scared, but Seymour wasn't scared at all. Time seemed to stand still as Seymour leaped over the table, one hand remaining on the table as he did a spinning whirlwind kick, catching 2 of the elves in the jaw. They went down, and good. Seymour pushed himself with his one arm, and went sailing over the other 2, coming up behind them and with a deft move, clipped one in the head with a drop kick, while the other stood there, a look of shock on his face. With strength beyond what Seymour looked capable of, he grabbed the last elf by the head, and flipped him so hard that he spun 360 degrees beflore slamming into the ground head first.

"Seymour! Seymour! Quit daydreaming...."

Huh? Seymour shook his head, he coulda taken those elves, nobody else better try anything or Seymour just didn't know what he might do.

[DrJest]

"Decker tech, presumably," Lucas mused. "Not my area of expertise, but I might know someone a bit more clued in." His eyes unfocussed slightly in the manner his colleagues knew to mean he was using his headware phone.

-autodial oracle

*You've reached Mortimer Ficcatore's Funeral Parlour. Nobody's in right now, so leave a message. And don't worry - the dead seldom get deader!

Lucas grinned. Mortimer Ficcatore - Morti-Ficator, a hash word for someone who makes others dead. Just what you'd want in a funeral director... Oracle's sense of humour was getting weirder. Still, anyone dialling the number by accident would almost certainly hang up straight away, which was the point. Lucas had left messages for Werewolf Therapy, Kidneys-R-Us and Cenosilicophobiacs Anonymous before now.

-Hello Oracle, Lucas here. I was hoping you might be able to help me out. Seems one Willy Jack is putting a team together, including yours truly, to swipe some technology for him. Being as how he's one of the decker fraternity, I wondered if you might know anything about the gent or his technological tastes - or, for that matter, if his previous teams have eaten undue amounts of lead.

A thought impulse through the transducer cut the line, and he picked up his drink again. "Well, I've left a message. Whether my friend gets back to me or not - we'll have to wait and see."

[Drain Brain]

[Double post... apologies...]

This post has been edited by Drain Brain: Feb 17 2005, 11:53 PM

[Drain Brain]

Pulling up outside Beautiful New Magic, Sands craned his head forward, looking through the windows. It was dim inside the shop - but then it often was - and he could not make out whether or not the establishment was "open for business."

Just in case, he took out the pencil stub kept always in his cigarette tin and scribbled a note on the envelope of some old circular mail he'd picked up... somewhere...

"Ella,

Sorry I missed you, my love, but I had business to attend. Those spell formulae you supplied worked out just fine, bu tI had to tweak them a little. I'll be needing some bits to make them work. If you could set your gorgeous mind to thinking up something appropriate, I would appreciate it - you know what I like - simple and effective.

Since I have your attention, there might just be a chance you have knowledge I could use on a matter... I was wondering if any of your clients ever mentioned the name "Willy Jack" in passing - either as Matrix Support or Johnson... I know the technical isn't necesarily your scene, but I do know your ears work just fine...

Let me know,

Love Nate

[tisoz]

There was a ringing in Lucas' head. The call connected. Oracle appeared as a yellow ball bouncing over a transcript of the conversation. :rollin:

In a French accented voice, Oracle says, "So Lewcas Carterre, Willee Jacque ees steel alive." :rollin:

Lucas voices his puzzlement, "You sound like you thought he wasn't."

The ball bounced some more. :rollin: "I have not heyered aneetheeng aybout leettle Willee foor at leeast trey months. Theyarre has been someone who might bee heem daykeeng around een thee last feeyew weeks."

"Might be?" Lucas repeated, catching himself before he applied the accent.

"I deed not know eef eet was heem. Hees eyecon ees not nearlay as reefined as thee old wone aynd hee dooes not seem to bee useeng thee same qualeetee eequipeement," explained Oracle as the yellow ball bounced over the grammatically correct spelling.:rollin:

Lucas asked, "Any idea who he worked for or with?"

"Eey whas een eendeependeent, noo staydee eemployeer or cahroo." :rollin:

"What's this guy who might be him been doing?"

"Ees beeyn asskeeng eenformaytion ayboot summ runnayrs whoo deed not feeneesh ay job they weere payed to do. That ees ayboot all I know. Thees helps, no? I can eexpayt some reenumayraytion een the yewzuayl maneer? Een line weeth thee valyew of thee dayta?" :D

[DrJest]

"I'll slot the credstick in the ATM on 4th and Pine in..." Lucaschecked his watch, "half an hour. Thanks, Oracle."

"Day reeyan," Oracle said cheerfully, cutting the call. Lucas tapped the table thoughtfully, drawing the glances of the rest of the team.

"We may have a problem," he said. "Or at least... One moment, I'm going to conference call Sands in on this."

-autodial Sandman

For once, Lucas spoke out loud whilst using his headphone. "Sands, listen up. I just got some info that slightly concerns me." He glanced round the table at the others, lowering his voice slightly. "I just had word from a decker friend. They thought Willy Jack was out of the picture - he hasn't been seen on the nets for about three months, but then someone who might be him turned up. I stress the might because my friend said there was something funny about the icon - lower resolution, poor equipment, that kind of thing."

Lucas leaned back in his chair, hands steepled. "This happened to me once before," he said slowly. "What was her name? Diana? Yes, that was it. Except that it wasn't Diana, it was her sister using her gear, looking for Diana's kid. You see what I'm saying here?"

He looked expectantly at the others.

[Drain Brain]

"You're saying "don't believe everything is as it should, pending confirmation," right? So basically you're saying that although we have a (probable) name and a (probable) reason, we don't actually know shit. So what you're REALLY saying, is that we're about to go to a meet with bugger-all info, which is standard, for a prospective employer we don't know from Adam, which is standard, for a purpose which could very well ass-shaft us at the drop of a hat... which is standard. Right?"

Sands paused momentarily, to catch his breath.

"I'm on my way back. See you in five."

[Tashio]

Thyrian took a large swig of his drink, listening to the conversation.

"Well he is supposedly dead. Prehaps he somehow managed to escape but lost some his equipment in the process which means he could be looking for some new stuff to replace it. Or... he is dead and this is someone with some cheap junk posing at him to get some sort of rep to get someone to break into somewhere for something, so he can get some good stuff to make him look like some sort of a pro."

Thyrian paused a moment thinking over what he just said. "Um anyone got a better word than some?"

[DrJest]

Lucas' brow creased as he considered Thyrian's comments. "I don't know... To look like Willy Jack, the counterfeiter would have to get hold of a copy of that decker's persona chips, or so I understand it; Diana's sister was using her old deck, which is why the icon looked like Diana. I suppose it depends on how bad a copy of the persona icon it is." He shook his head abruptly. "Decking isn't really my thing, I only came across this kind of situation that once."

[kevyn668]

Slaon takes a drag. "Mebbe Jack got flatlined in person. Mebbe the guy posin' as Jack, was the trigger. Or was there, at least."

[DrJest]

"Could be. I think the point that needed to be made is, we may not really be dealing with Willy Jack tomorrow." Lucas shoved his chair back and got to his feet "Speaking of same, I'm going to go get my head down, and I'd advise you to do the same. "

[Drain Brain]

Sands arrived back at Matchsticks only to pass Lucas at the door. The flash limey jumped in his Westwind and sped off in the direction of 4th and Pine.

"He off home?" Sands asked. He got a slow nod from Sloan, who never even took his eyes off his drink.

"So we're calling it a night or what?" Thyrian gave a sagely bow in confirmation.

"Right. Seymour - you want a ride home? Hey, what time do you have to be in by - I thought we might stop for a takeaway curry..."

[Sphynx]

Seymour laughs, Sands has obviously mistaken him for a nerd.

"I don't have a curfew you nut, Mom gave me a key so I could stay out late. Curry sounds good, this time it's on you.", he says, almost in a questioning manner as if he half expects to have to argue the matter, knowing that he'd be better off just accepting loss here and saving his Willpower for more important re-rolls in the future.

Seymour works hsi way around to the edge of the booth, squeezing himself out until he's standing there, ready to go. He waves to his future-ex-wife, aka the waitress, though she is doing her usual love stance of ignoring Seymour, then follows Sands out.

[tisoz]

The chirp of the telecom cuts through the soft jazz tones and thick smoke of Matchsticks. After answering it, Mike passes along messages to everyone that the Johnson is waiting in a private back room. Mike tells Sloan that between closing last night and opening this morning, he has little chance to do anything. Barely time to shower and shave, and not nearly enough to get a decent amount of sleep.

As the invited runners enter the private room they see a human male apparently in his mid 20s with a datajack at his temple. Pimlico Wilson is to the man's left and one of the biggest, ugliest orks you have seen show his face topside is standing to the left of the human. On over in the back, left corner stands an elven female, her hands in the pockets of her longcoat. She would be far from beautiful even without the scar puckering her cheek and tugging her lips out of line with the center of her face.

The man welcomes you into the room and after letting everyone get comfortable starts the meeting.

With a grin he says, "I would introduce myself as Mr. Johnson, but I know you already have an idea of who I am."

Pimlico has a look like he is oblivious and about to start whistling a nameless tune.

"I'm not angry that you did a bit of checking, frag I would, and it is actually a bit reassuring that you did a bit of checking. I usually go by the name Willy Jack, usually doing my thing in the matrix. However, a few months ago I was trying to order an upgrade for my deck and nearly wound up worm food. My deck got fried. I've been using an old deck I kept for a backup, but it is hardly SOTA.

When I contacted Pimlico, I asked him to get a crew together for a little night work. He was going to be behind the scenes, but I thought I'd ask him to make an appearance in case I need my identity verified. It's not like I got a credstick issued to Willy Jack," he says with a grin.

"The job is breaking into a secured building, appropriating a few boxes worth of merchandise, easily carried. Hopefully, without anyone knowing you were there. I can pay the team 100K. If you accept, we can discuss details. If not, we can discuss another job."

[kevyn668]

Sloan leans back in his chair. He looks at the fixer, then at the Johnson, then back to the fixer.

"Makes sense," he shurgs. "If Pimlico vouches for ya, that's good enough fer me."

Sloan looks to the rest of the group individualy to gauge thier reactions.

[Drain Brain]

"I'm up for it," Sands said, with a little mini-sigh, "But I gotta say, Wilson that I don't appreciate being fleeced for cash for information it obviously took no effort to find - since you know this guy well enough to "vouch" for him. But regardless... the main questions I guess, Mr Jack, are deadline, security, location and expenses... care to share?"

[Sphynx]

Seymour didn't usually get invited to meets like this, and this proved no exception. His masculinity tended to put people on edge, he was sure it was the masculinity too, so don't try to argue. However, Seymour did greatly want to be at the meeting, so sat in the bar for the duration of the next day, sure that the team would use it as the place to meet the Big-J. Big-J is what the cool people call a Johnson, you could tell the wannabes by if they used the proper lingo or not. Seymour would have to prepare for the meet, he'd learned years ago that if you outstare someone, they knew you were the bad-ass in the group, definitely more bass-ass than they were. Seymour could outstare anyone, especially if they weren't looking. Seymour again sat in the back corner, and used the mirror on the wall to practice his staring. If he could outstare himself, he'd be more bad-ass than even he was.... Dont' ask, it makes more sense if you don't say it and just do it. That's how the team would find him as they slunk in one-by-one, staring right into his own eyes in preperation of the coming meet. Except... nobody on the team saw him, that much was obvious, or they'd have definitely said something to him, letting Seymour know they were there. By a late hour, Seymour realized that the meet must have been somewhere else, and his eyes were red from staring too much. He'd have to work his eyes out some, maybe he could flex them, he thought as he started widening and narrowing his gaze. Unfortunately, the waitress saw him, and mistook his efforts as a form of flirtation, because she started doing that cute giggle she so often did, although others would call out an outright burst of laughter. But Seymour knew better, only he could extract that melodic sound from her lips, and he beamed as she tried her best to stop her giggling. The team should appear at the bar soon, he was ready for them. He was Seymour.

[DrJest]

EDIT: double post. Bloody dialup.

[DrJest]

Lucas was less than happy that this Pimlico Wilson had been skimming money for nothing off a team member; it didn't exactly speak volumes for the trustworthiness of the man, but he figured Sands would handle it as he saw fit. Lucas eyed the elf woman briefly, guessing her to be a bodyguard and wanting to assess her. With a small internal sigh, he thought at least with that scar Seymour won't try and pick her up. Please God he doesn't try to get into a macho contest with her. He knew the rigger would be around somewhere outside, although out of self-defence the team had taken to discreetly leaving him out of meets.

He listened to Willy Jack's explanations with some tolerance, although he was reasonably sure the man was still lying to them at least in part - on the other hand, these were the shadows, and named so for a reason. After Sands spoke, Lucas nodded once. "As my colleague says, we can hardly be expected to go in blind. Perhaps if you were to offer some details on the site you want penetrating? I think you can understand that we don't yet know if a hundred grand is a fair price for what you want doing."

[tisoz]

"Did I demand dinero for the data? You inquired of info I enjoy. Should someone, somewhere seek Sanderson's secrets - I surmise I shall share some I simply see," Wilson says, fans out a few notes of currency, leaving them on the table and walking out. The bodies that fall in to flank him seem enormous compared to his slight stature.

Willy eyes the notes and says, "Sold me out for :nuyen: 500." He smiles and adds, "Looks like about 500 more than it will take to learn about you. Are you guys sure you're pros? I thought everyone knew a fixer makes a living off of what he knows?"

Realizing those surrounding him may not be truly professional and that he could have just irritated them by pointing out a few realities, Willy continues, "Getting back to business, what do you need to know, in general terms, to help you decide?"

[DrJest]

"A fixer may make a living out of what he knows, Mr. Jack," said Lucas smoothly, betraying no hint of the anger the decker's comments had engendered in him, "but he continues living by not shafting his runners." And a man self-admittedly using old tech to do his job because he melted his new stuff on the job would be well-advised not to call the professionalism of others into question he added sourly to himself. "However, for the moment let us move on and discuss more pertinent matters. Let us start by discussing the security arrangements at the site. What company is contracted to provide security services? And are you familiar with their licence situation? By which I mean lethal force, paranimals, etcetera."

[tisoz]

This meet is falling apart Willy Jack thought. Cheap bastards, I'm probably scaring them off by offering 100K for the job. And the last bunch of drekheads took the down payment and disappeared. What will these guys do? I think I'll find out from Pimlico Wilson. Yes, now is probably a good time to get some info from him and it can only help me when it comes time to bargaining with these guys."

"Maybe you guys aren't the right guys for this job," Willy Jack says, nods to the ork and elf and heads for the exit.

[Tashio]

Thyriansat quietly in the corner watching each person, listening to the bantering that was flying back and forth. 100k definatly peaked his interest. Would definatly help contribute towards further self empowerment, and a couple rounds of the blessed liquid.

About to say something as Wilson left, Thyrians mouth opened and promptly shut as Jack continued.

He lent forward as Jack began to describe the various layouts. This was more his field of interest than general chit chat.