Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 8th-14th Options

[Mister Juan]

20:54:47 Sunday, 14 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown, Seattle, UCAS

"Da, the practical application ones... entry to mid level... something in the 4-00 series."

She opened up her jacket, sliding the pocket secretary back.

[Cthulhu449]

12:55:10 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Port of Seattle Transit Trailer Holding Area 5N, Tacoma, Seattle, UCAS

"Ok,"

Leo walked alongside the mage, keeping his eye on the nearby scaffolding and shuffling his principle into the car. A barge coming into port drowned the area in noise with its foghorn as Leo slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. The car started up and slid back onto the street, nicking the side of a curb and bouncing Leo in his seat.

"What about Abramovich? Anything I need to worry about there?" Leo asked.

[Cedric Rolfsson]

13:13:29 Monday January 8, 2063 - Northbound 405 - Seattle UCAS

Erebus frowned into his phone, knowing the odds had been against it but he'd still been hoping the Elven fixer might've had a set of sec armor available.

"The stuff you can get within four hours is fine, anything longer is outside my timetable. I'm looking for area jammers, Rating 4-5 at least, let's say two. Just regular micro-sensor package camera units are fine, let's say 8 of those. Don't worry about the APDS ammo, I'll get my own later. Just give me a price tag and a meeting site to pick the gear up, somewhere in Tacoma would be best for me."

As he spoke he looked over at Dragon and covered the phone with his hand.

"Can you think of anything else we need that I haven't mentioned? He can't get us the armor or ammo in time."

[grendel]

13:14:17 Monday January 8, 2063 - Northbound 405 - Seattle UCAS

"There's a club called Domain, 810 Bishop St, in Tacoma. Meet me in the parking lot out back of the club at 1800. Area jammers are harder to come by, I won't be able to do anything higher than a rating 3 in the timeframe you're talking about. And that's at double street. For the rest: 4 flash-paks, 6 micro cameras, 3 rating 3 respirators, 3 trauma patches, 3 rating 6 tranq patches, and a 10 pack of flex-cuffs comes to an even 10k nuyen."

Elan waits to hear if Erebus has any additional requests.

[grendel]

20:55:32 Sunday, 14 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown, Seattle, UCAS

Zeyda nodded, quirking a small smile.

"Thirty six hours for all three, but they don't come cheap. Full on practical courses run two thousand nuyen each for the 400 level applications. I'll drop you a text when they're in, just stop by the pick-up window and ask for my take-out."

[Cedric Rolfsson]

13:14:22 Monday January 8, 2063 - Northbound 405 - Seattle UCAS

"If you can't get the area jammer then get me some directional jammers, four if possible, and we'll go from there. That price sucks but I need that gear, I'll be at the club on time."

Erebus winced at the price tag, he knew rush was expensive but 10K seemed like a lot for gear that could be purchased for half that price. Not that he was about to try and bargain with Elan, it never seemed to help when he tried and he always felt like an idiot afterwards.

The Elf sammurai informed the others about his little shopping list and the meeting site and time.

[grendel]

13:14:43 Monday January 8, 2063 - Northbound 405 - Seattle UCAS

"Directional are only slightly better. I have rating two on hand, anything higher will take forty eight hours. Four of them are going to run you an additional four thousand. I'll see you later."

[Cedric Rolfsson]

13:14:43 Monday January 8, 2063 - Northbound 405 - Seattle UCAS

"Works guy, I'll see you there."

Erebus terminated the call and dropped his phone back into his jacket. The price tag hurt but hopefully they'd be able to recover the gear before they exited the hanger, and maybe recover some kind of salvage or something.

"Alright guys, I've got a meet to pick up the gear at 1800, between now and then we'll need to get more specific information and see what kind of access we can get to the site."

He glanced into the rearview, making eye contact with Sybersnake, just a quick questioning glance, before returning his attention to the road and traffic. Dragon was a well of silence in the front seat, off in his zone somewhere.

"I'm going to drop you at a coffin hotel in the north part of Tacoma so you guys can see about getting some information. I'll handle the getting the gear solo."

He pulled one of the disposable phones out of his jacket and handed it to Dragon.

"Here is a clean phone, it's disposable and the other number is programed in as speed dial one."

He aimed the car towards a popular quasi-business class coffin motel, a chain of cut rate hotels, whose main plus was the Matrix access it offered.

[grendel]

13:32:29 Monday January 8, 2063 - B.M. FullerTown, 3070 228th St SE, Seattle, UCAS

Dragon watched from the shelter of the lobby alcove as Erebus' car disappeared into the afternoon chill. His gaze swept from the street to the sky above, checking for drone surveillance. The path of his surveillance included the three story long red roofed building of the Extended Stay Business Suites the block over. He sighed, glancing back at Sybersnake who was busy negotiating with the expert system in charge of booking for the coffin hotel.

"You sure we can't stay over there?"

Sybersnake pulled out a pair of plastic card keys, handing one to Dragon.

"Sure, but it wouldn't do us any good. I've already got lines into this host." She motioned for him to follow her up the stairs to the second floor.

"Lines that the Azzies don't know about?" Dragon kept his voice deliberately neutral, not wanting to bring up bad news but needing to know if the bases were covered. Sybersnake flashed him a tight grin.

"They shouldn't. I put 'em in using a contact of mine over a year ago. There's no indication that they've drilled that deep. But don't worry, I'll check before I surf."

The slim decker stopped in front of one of the large coffins rented by orks and trolls. The large, two meter wide tube would be a tight but comfortable fit for the two of them. Dragon arches an eyebrow.

"Look, either you can stand out here in the cold and risk a visual ID by an Azzie fly-by or you can hang out in the warmth with me and go over any of the intel I develop. Your call."

Sybersnake didn't wait for an answer, slotting her keycard through the maglock and pulling the hatch of the coffin open. Dragon gritted his teeth, glancing up and down the corridor. Why now, of all times, did he think about how good her ass looked inside those kevlar and goretex cargo pants? Reaching up for the handle, he pulled himself inside the coffin, seating the door and glancing over at Sybersnake, who was already submerging into the VR.

"I really hope I get to blow something up soon," he muttered.

[Mister Juan]

20:55:32 Sunday, 14 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown, Seattle, UCAS

Ludmilla gave a small and curt smile to Zeyda, picking up the cigarette she had left in the ashtray. Her eyes went half closed as her lips wrapped around the cigarette, pulling the last bit of smoke into her lungs. As she spoke, white smoke slowly trailed out of her mouth.

“Spasiba moy preyatyel.�

She pushed her chair back , buttoning her suit's jacket up.

“You take care.� she added with her thick accent.

Leaving her mostly empty drink on the table, Ludmilla walked at a brisk pace out of the large room and down the short stairs, heading toward where she thought the pick up window was. She simply couldn't wait to get her hands on the gear she had ordered. Zeyda was more than reliable when it came to get a hold of exotic items... but she always felt a bit nervous. The job would either go down tomorrow, or very very soon... If everything wasn't quite in order, she'd have to buy time with Sascha. And time... well that was the last thing she really had.

[WinterRat1]

An indeterminate period of time between 12:48:06 and 13:14:43 Monday January 8, 2063 - Northbound 405 - Seattle UCAS

After Sybersnake had presented the tactical situation to them in all the detail she had been able to provide from the short time frame she'd had available to gather information, the conversation shifted quickly to the nitty-gritty planning of getting in, getting Roberto, and getting out alive.

Numerous ideas were tossed back and forth. Some were practical, such as disabling the plane somehow to prevent it from leaving. Some were not so practical, such as driving a truck full of highly volatile and explosive jet fuel towards the plane, for reasons Dragon still had not been able to fully comprehend.

The look Sybersnake shot Erebus after he suggested it told them all in no uncertain terms there was no fragging way in hell she was going to allow them to drive a truck filled with 5000 pounds of avgas anywhere near that plane. Especially when said truck had enough explosive potential to blow the entire airport into next week.

Eventually though, they'd settled on a plan they could all agree with. Namely, rigging the plane with neuro-stun gas in advance on a remote detonator, then knocking out the security team and Roberto (a necessary step to minimize the potential harm to him by preventing a firefight, and Dragon had assured Sybersnake there would be no permanent aftereffects). After that, theoretically they could just waltz in, grab Roberto and waltz right back out. Theoretically.

Still, it was a reasonably solid plan, and probably the best they were likely to come up with under the circumstances. Immediately after they'd agreed on the plan, Erebus was on the phone with his fixer to try and secure things they'd decided they'd need. Specific equipment and, since neither Virgil nor Daedalus had gotten back to him, personnel.

While Sybersnake returned to the Matrix to gather more information, Dragon continued driving in silence. As often happened when his mind wasn't focused on something specific, his thoughts began to drift.

Lucien said it was because his body had so many mods. Supposedly his Essence-Integrity level was unstable; not quite as bad as cyberzombies like in the Cybertechnology file on Shadowland, but definitely worse than any normal person should be.

It had never been a problem in the field, since he always kept his mind actively engaged. But in moments of downtime, he often found himself thinking about things that held little, if any, relevance to the situation at hand. Sometimes it drifted to memories of times, places, and people in days past, sometimes it drifted to thoughts of what the future might hold.

Cruising up the 405 in the early afternoon, Dragon left the others to their tasks and let the memories wash over him.

[WinterRat1]

14:00:10 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Meany Hall - University of Seattle

Her sudden rush for the double doors on the other end of the studio caught the detectives off guard. While Fox and Morris had acted as if she might run, they clearly didn't expect her to run.

Of the two, Fox was quicker, and the woman nearly grabbed Lana's sleeve before her acceleration kicked in and she was off and running at full speed. Crashing through the double doors at a full tilt, she ran headlong into another student who was about to enter.

Spinning off the startled student as soon as she hit him, Lana careened into the wall on the other side of the hallway, bouncing off hard and continuing her mad dash down the hallway to the stairs. Behind her, Fox and Morris yelled for her to stop, and she heard Fox curse as the woman stumbled over the now prone student Lana had knocked to the floor moments ago.

In the straightaway of the hallway, her advantage of surprise gone, Lana's fears were confirmed. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed both detectives were not only faster than her, they were probably in better shape as well.

Just as they started closing the gap significantly, she hit the stairs. Luckily for her, with the next set of classes about to begin other people were running up and down the stairs as well. Lana's smaller frame was able to weave in and out of the crowd, whereas the detectives, with their larger frames, opted to just crash right through.

Each belligerent student they faced, each momentary course correction they needed to stay on Lana's tail as she weaved in and out were precious extra seconds she gained. By the time she got to the bottom of the four story staircase she had extended her lead.

Looking around desperately for a place to hide, the frantic student spotted the locker rooms down the hall and ran for them, hoping to make it inside before Fox or Morris could see where she'd gone. Although she'd originally planned on hiding in the women's locker room, the men's was on this end of the hallway and she could hear the detectives getting closer.

Running out of time and options, and unwilling to risk a prolonged chase, which would almost certainly happen if they spotted her, Lana crossed her fingers and prayed no one was in the locker room as she darted inside.

To her immense relief a quick glance around confirmed she was all alone. Scrambling around, she looked for a place to hide. At first she wanted to hide in an empty locker, thinking there was no way the detectives could open all of them. Then she realized they were all locked except for a few, and Fox and Morris were almost certainly sharp enough to check those.

In the hallway, she heard Morris yelling, "Where the hell did she go? Did you see her?"

"You check the men's locker room. I'll go check the women's. She has to be somewhere in this hallway. Since the locker rooms are on both ends of the hall, once we've checked those we'll work our way in from there," Fox quickly answered.

"I'm on it."

With no more time to waste, Lana immediately dived into the nearest hiding spot she could find, a giant cart that happened to hold a mountainous pile of towels. Once she jumped in, she realized to her disgust that this was the used towel cart. As the smell hit her, her first instinct was to get out of the cart immediately, or at least gag and throw up.

Hearing the locker room door open and Morris's heavy footsteps, she did neither. Carefully and quietly she burrowed her way to the bottom of the cart, fighting down the bile rising in her throat. Once there, she curled herself up into the littlest ball she could, hoping that even if Morris decided to reach into the dirty towel cart, he wouldn't look too thoroughly.

Listening carefully, her earlier suspicions were proved correct, as she heard Morris moving quickly up and down the aisles of lockers and opening each unlocked one, checking to make sure no one was in them.

His footsteps grew closer, and she heard him mutter, "Oh god, this thing reeks. I hope she didn't hide herself in there." Despite his complaining, Lana heard him walk up the cart and thrust a hand in, digging around for her. As he shuffled the towels around, she felt him grasp at something, then tighten his grip, yelling triumphantly, "Got you!" before yanking something out of the cart.

"Just a fragging rolled up towel," he cursed, and was about to resume his search when Fox's voice yelled, "You find her in there?"

"No!"

"Then get your hoop out here and help me check the rest of the rooms!"

"All right! I'm coming! Keep your pants on!"

His heavy footsteps began walking away from her cart and Lana heard the locker room door open, then bang shut a few moments later. Although the detectives weren't gone, it was highly unlikely they'd come back to check the cart again. More likely they'd assume she must have taken a different path and they'd misjudged her route when she came down the stairs.

She wasn't quite safe, but she had a few moments to catch her breath. For a few minutes at least, she was away from it all. The cops, the questions, the mysteries, the fragging mess her life was becoming. With a moment to breathe again, all the stress and pressure that had constantly been building up the last few days suddenly came crashing down on her. At that moment the bottom of the smelly towel cart seemed a very inviting place to just curl up and cry. She buried her face in her arm, letting it muffle the sounds of her sobs.

[bclements]

12:57:40 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Port of Seattle Transit Trailer Holding Area 5N, Tacoma, Seattle, UCAS
“Not much,� Roderick said as he slammed the Z-M into gear, his accent making it sound like a small mule braying. “Abramovich…well, I owe him some money, but it’s not that much to a guy like him. He knows I’m going to pay him when this is over with. He actually seemed reasonable, last I talked to him, � he said, pulling the car somewhat recklessly down the lane and outside the trailer drop off point, out to the 5 and toward his flat downtown.


Leo didn’t say anything during the drive, in a mix of semi-terror at Roderick’s shockingly careless driving in the still semi-ice-and-snow covered conditions (Leo braced himself for a crash every time Roderick pulled into the icier passing lane and began to fishtail the hot rod, not to mention the high-pitched whining sound that began to come from the rear of the vehicle whenever they put on speed) and shaking headed wonder at the magicians blasé attitude in the face of owing money to the Vory.

They’ll be coming after him soon, one way or other , he thought to himself as Roderick grinned like a crazy man as he roared the Z-M around a plow moving the packed snow a little farther out of the outside lane to the honking and blaring of horns of the other drivers on the damp and slick highway. Leo’s hand reflexively found the upper restraint handle; a widely spaced handprint (much wider than his own hand) stood in testimony that Roderick’s driving style wasn’t just showing off


01:29:44 Thursday, 11 January 2063-1878 N. Boylston Ave., Downtown, Seattle, UCAS

Despite Roderick’s reckless-for-no-apparent-good-reason driving, nothing other than the passenger side armrest gaining an additional handprint until they got back to the apartment building. Leo noticed him first; a large, square shouldered human, standing by the outside entrance that they had left. He looked to be watching the traffic in and out of the parking lot, and had already noticed the old car. Probably heard it coming up the block Leo thought to himself as the man strode toward the driveway, a good 20 meters off but approaching closely.

“You know him?� Leo asked.

Roderick gulped loudly. “I think Abramovich is paying a visit. You got a place to go? Or should we hear him out?�

[WinterRat1]

13:32:38 Monday January 8, 2063 - B.M. FullerTown, 3070 228th St SE, Seattle, UCAS

Why now, of all times, did he think about how good her ass looked inside those kevlar and goretex cargo pants?

That was an easy question to answer. Because her ass looked damn fine in said kevlar and goretax cargo pants. Of course it always looked fine, but there was something about having it right in front of his face, swaying side to side as she climbed the ladder that was particularly appealing at the moment. Forcing himself not to dwell on her perfect ass and her tight, firm body that had curves in all the right places, Dragon shoved aside his growing desire and ordered himself to focus, muttering unintelligibly as he climbed.

By the time he got up the ladder Sybersnake was already jacked into the VR. Not wanting to disturb her, he settled himself in against the wall opposite the door. Taking care to line up the perfect firing position just in case some unwanted assailant decided to barge in on them (for all the good it would do; one grenade up here and they were both toast), he closed his eyes to rest, trusting in his cybered senses to pick up on any hint of danger. Satisfied he was ready for trouble, Dragon took advantage of the chance to sleep. Dozing lightly, he waited for Sybersnake to do her thing and return to the meat world.

[Vegas]

14:33:52 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Meany Hall - University of Seattle

She had lost track of time buried deep under the towels, she could barely think straight when she tried to think about what she would do next, but instincts had a way of overriding the conscious mind. Somehow she knew that the Detectives were long gone from searching the locker rooms. Something was also telling her that the locker room would soon be filled with lots of sweaty dancers and she really didn’t want to be seen by anyone else that might rat her out to the Detectives should they keep asking around.

Besides, as her subconscious spurred her forward, her conscious mind no longer found the refuge of smelly towels inviting. In fact the thought of being wrapped up in all of the sweat, the germs and god only knew what else was making her sick to her stomach. Fighting back her gag reflex and biting back the dry heaves, Lana pulled her small frame out of the rolling cart and tumbled to the hard concrete floor of the locker room.

Her eyes quickly moved about the space, assuring her that she was truly alone. She didn’t need to get startled by running into one of the other dancers coming out of the showers. Standing still she heard nothing, no shuffle of feet, no spraying or splashing of water from the showers. She allowed her to let out the breath she had been holding and slowly moved away from the towel cart and the relative safety it had provided her.

She had two immediate objectives. She needed to get to the locker she had stashed her bag in before class and retrieve the things Nikol had left her and she needed to get out of the building and off campus. Of course both of those things needed to be accomplished without being located by the Detectives. With tentative steps she poked her head out of the men’s locker room and looked up and down a relatively empty hallway. She was thankful she didn’t see anyone she knew well, nor did she see the Detectives. Her relief was quickly quashed by the distance between the two locker rooms. It had never seemed like a long walk from one end of the hallway to the other, but right now with everything on the line it looked like the women’s locker room was in a different time zone.

Deciding trying to sneak down the hall would look more suspicious than just looking like a typical college student late for class Lana slipped from the protection of the doorway and moved out into the hallway, walking at a clipped but as relaxed pace as she could manage in her situation down the hall and towards the women’s locker room. Her eyes swept every inch that she could manage without turning her head too much or too often watching and waiting, almost expecting one of the Detectives to jump out from a hallway or a doorway and scream “Gotcha!�

[WinterRat1]

14:39:26 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Meany Hall - University of Seattle

Maybe Lana had just watched way too many trid shows where the bad guys had randomly appeared out of nowhere, with no rhyme, reason, or rationale. Maybe she’d just been conditioned to believe that life would unfold in the most dramatic way possible, even if it made no sense. Then again, nothing in the last few days made any sense, and it sure as hell felt like she was just a character in a trid show. She wished someone would yell “Cut!� and stop everything, and she could walk off the set and go home to her normal life and see Nikol at home and even get lectured to be careful and stay safe.

Shaking off thoughts that were neither here nor there as she continuously scanned the hallway with a paranoia that would make the most rabid conspiracy theorist proud, she made the walk from the Men’s Locker Room to the Women’s in about an hour. Or at least it felt that way. In reality, it was more like a minute.

Once inside the locker room she raced to her locker and quickly changed back into her street clothes, so as not to draw attention to herself. Grabbing the bag out of the locker, she double checked to make sure she didn’t leave anything. The way things were going it wasn’t like she could come back any time soon if she forgot something. Satisfied she hadn’t forgotten anything, she opened the door back to the hallway ever so slightly and scanned the hallway again for the detectives. Relieved that no one was there, she moved quickly to exit the building. A quick glance back reassured her that no one was following her as she approached the doors. Practically bursting out of the double doors into the cold January air, she hurried down the stairs, trying to figure out where to go next, and what to do when she got there.

[Cthulhu449]

01:30:01 Thursday, 11 January 2063-1878 N. Boylston Ave., Downtown, Seattle, UCAS

"Hold on a moment," Leo told Roderick while looking out the passenger window; he checked the gun strapped to his side just in case he needed to use it while sizing up the stranger as best he could. No obvious weapons, but they were there somewhere. They were either well hidden and slow to draw, or well hidden and fast. Leo hoped the former. The nervous mage tapped the top of the steering wheel with both hands, the desire to flee apparent in his every jerky move.

"You sure? I mean..."

"Yeah, better to hear what he has to say - and he's here to talk or we would have never seen him. Well, you would have never seen him."

Leo was positive he had only thought the "probably" at the end of his statement, or at the very least whispered it too quiet to hear, but Roderick's response said otherwise.

"Probably? What the hell 'probably'? Probably he wants to talk? Because that isn't quite fragging sure enough for me to want to..."

"Just calm down; the more information we have the better. If he just wants to remind you that you owe some money then you're good, if not, well, that's why I'm here."

Roderick didn't seem too confident, but the man across the parking lot had kept walking and now was within speaking distance of the two men at the car.

[Vegas]

15:19:03 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty alley somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

As her feet clicked hard and quick across the pavement she pulled the lapels of her jacket tighter around her in a vain attempt to keep out the cold. From a casual observer she looked like she was a determined woman with a destination to reach. In truth however, she was anything but. She walked in any direction that would get away from the campus in the least amount of time and she didn’t have a planned destination.

Lana had walked herself in circles for what felt like hours, but in reality had been just a little over an hour. Paying more attention to what was before, immediately around and behind her than where she was going. When she finally snapped herself out of the almost trance-like state brought on by a healthy dose of paranoia, she realized she had walked herself into a more seedy part of the metroplex, far away from the perceived safety of the Uni’s campus.

Instead of fear or panic washing over her Lana actually felt a wave of relief take its place and she actually let out a soft chuckle. It was unlikely that the cops would come looking for her in a slummy place like this, more than likely they were wasting their time visiting her friends and known aquaintances and finding nothing. That thought solidified the fact that she had to keep her distance from most of the people she knew for a little while at least assuming the cops would likely keep their eyes on Aidan and Kat for the time being.

Looking up and down the street she was greeted with grungy locked down store fronts, strewn trash and unidentifiable liquids spilling out across the streets and acid-etched foggy windows, the majority of which were shattered, cracked or boarded over. Then she spotted it, a veritable neon-esque holy grail behind dirty glass. A colour-shifting ad for Iced Charcoal, it’s familiar logo offering her a sense of salvation. She quickly made a bee-line towards the building, struggling slightly to pull open the heavy door and slipped inside.

Right now, she thought, she deserved a beer.

[WinterRat1]

15:24:13 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty alley somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

Lana may have felt like she deserved a beer, but the moment she walked in the door she wondered if this was the right place for it. While certainly not a dive bar by any stretch of the imagination, it was significantly seedier than what she was used to.

The tables were cracked and the polish worn down, several of the bar stools were bent, their cushions torn in places, and the place reeked of smoke and cheap booze. On the plus side, there were only a few patrons in the place, and it seemed as if this was more of a 'stop in after work for the rest of the night' kind of bar, not a 'why even bother going to work at all' bar.

At this time, there were only three other people in the bar besides Lana, and two of them looked like they were passed out. The bartender, an old human with a ragged beard and stained white wife-beater looked up when the door opened. Placing his hands on the worn countertop he's wiping with a filthy rag, he grins at Lana, revealing several missing teeth. Blatantly, he looks her up and down, then asks, "What kinI do fer ya sweet thang?"

[Vegas]

15:25:07 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty bar somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

When she stepped inside the dive of the bar she almost turned on her heel and walked right back out the door. The place was hardly on the same scale as Element, but that wasn’t exactly available to her right now. When the disgusting excuse of a bartender took his time looking her up and down, she forced a smile on her face as she settled herself on the least ripped stool before the bar and tried not to throw up in her mouth. The bartender’s breath smelled like stale cigarettes and rotten meat. It took her a couple of moments to find her voice after the olfactory assault.

“A beer, whatever you’ve got.� She stopped after the initial order and then hastily added on. “And a whiskey chaser.�

She averted her gaze from the bartender and paid more attention to her bag and keeping it settled on a stool beside her.

[WinterRat1]

15:26:12 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty bar somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

No sooner had she seated herself than the bartender plunked a frosty Iced Charcoal (unopened) and whiskey chaser in front of her. Service here was quick, apparently.

"So, what's a sweet young thang like yerself doin' in here babe? Anything I can uh, help you with?"

The bartender's leer made her nauseous, and she felt uneasy just being here. Despite his pathetic attempts to hit on her, he didn't seem particularly dangerous, just lecherous and sleazy, and maybe a little bit bored by the lack of customers. Of course, looks were often deceiving...

[Vegas]

15:26:12 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty bar somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

There was that sensation again, the burn of bile at the back of her throat. Swallowing hard, she twisted the cap off the beer and took a long swig of it to chase away the acidic burn.

"Thanks, but a place to be icy is plenty for now. The old man'll never think to look for me in here."

She had done her best to keep her accent to a minimum but that was like trying to ask the impossible. She grabbed the shot of whiskey and threw it back with the speed and finesse of a professional drunk. She chased that with another long pull from her beer bottle and then took a glance towards the door.

All the while she could feel the bartender's eyes on her, lingering in places his eyes shouldn't. Under the cover of the bar in her lap her hands flexed and intertwined, fingers constantly moving in a rhythm connected to her nervousness.

[WinterRat1]

15:26:18 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty bar somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

The bartender shrugs. "Suit yerself. But if ya wanna be left alone, I'd scram soon, afore the afternoon crowd comes in. Sweet thang like yerself ain't gonna be left alone fer long once tha boys start rollin' in."

He walks away to return to wiping the bar. Although he continues sneaking in glances at Lana when she thinks she isn't looking, for the moment she's left alone with her thoughts, to consider what her next move should be.

[Vegas]

17:22:54 Thursday, 11 January 2063, A dirty bar somewhere in the Seattle Metroplex

Lana couldn’t help but let an arrogant teenaged smirk creep to her lips. She’d put up with her own fair share of creeps at Element in her time a few of the “good ol’ boys� in a for shit dive bar like this one… She took another pull from her beer, nearly draining it and made no attempt to move from the stool. The one major factor that she was overlooking was that at Element, there was a well paid, well trained staff to keep problems from escalating past a minor annoyance. Here she was left with her wits, a bag of all her belongings and a sleazy bartender.

In some corner of the bar an ancient Trideo unit crackled and sputtered with the current news updates.

The toothless bartender was so accurate that people could tell time off him should the grid go down. It was but barely 5 minutes later that the “boys� truly did roll into the bar. With the minimal clientele Lana stood out as if she was bathed in neon. The fact that she was not the regular low-life, loose morals woman who frequented the place seemed to draw them to her like moths to the flame.

They looked like they could be workers from the docks, day laborers that did hard work, construction even. Their mouths and their dialects confirmed their blue-collar status. When one decided he was worthy enough to put his hand roughly on her upper thigh, it was that point when she decided to take the bartender’s advice and find somewhere else to hole up for a while. This wasn’t the kind of party she enjoyed.

She shot the guy an icy stare and waved the bartender over. She didn’t waste any time settling up her tab, and sliding from her stool she hefted the bag over her shoulder from the seat next to her and didn’t apologize when it’s weight drove into the guy with the wandering hands. She turned on a heel with a nod to the bartender as she made her way out the door back onto the dirty street and on a new search for a place to lay low.

She knew going back to the neighborhood, or back to her friends was pretty much out of the question and than visiting her local haunts wouldn’t be the greatest idea either. However she remembered the various coffin-style motels that were littered around the entertainment corridor in downtown, specifically a little hole-in-the-wall about 5 blocks from Element where a number of people ended up “sleeping it off.� She walked her way back from the back alleys and side streets to one of the main drags, busy enough that she could manage to hail a cab to take her to the entertainment district.

The ride in the cab was thankfully quiet, the cabbie prone not to ask a certified cred paying customer too many questions. She had the cab drop her off a couple of blocks from her destination and she didn’t waste much time in front of many of the clubs along the way. She did take a couple of seconds at a public dataterm to drop Aidan a message that she was fine and everyone was better off if they didn’t know where she was for a bit. She promised to be in touch soon and quickly ended the call.

It wasn’t hard to find the coffin motel, quiet and unassuming on a side street. She chose an Ork-sized capsule in a mid-level tier, somewhat close to an exit and slotted one of the certified credsticks from her bag and bought herself 36 hours of uninterrupted time. She opened the hatch to her current living arrangement and slid her bag in first and crawled in behind it and shut the capsule door.

Thankfully the space was relatively clean and updated and because of her small size she was given a lot of room to move around. With some peace and quiet and most of all privacy she allowed herself to open up the bag again and thoroughly examine its contents again. She spent a good amount of time studying the fake ID Niki had made up for her, knowing it was going to become more important in her very near future.

[Vegas]

23:09:13 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Club Buddha, The Seattle Entertainment Corridor

Sleep had come fitfully at best through out the evening, drifting in and out while reading up on all the details of her alternate identity. Convinced with the confidence of teenaged bravado that she had all the important information down she decided that she could use the new id to be out and about with relative security. Sitting up inside the capsule she rented she dug through her bag and found various toiletries and started to get herself cleaned up.

She took her hair down from the ponytail and brushed it out, trying to coax it into a new style without having to jump in the shower. She took this opportunity to apply her makeup in a different style, a bit more goth and heavy-handed for her usual tastes. She picked through the limited clothing Niki had left for her and tried to piece together something stylish enough she could get into the clubs. Getting dressed inside the capsule was more difficult that she had imagined, but as she shimmied into the tight pair of black pants she found herself laughing at what she must look like at that very moment.

Before she left the capsule, she carefully divested herself of anything that would immediately tie her back to her real identity, burying her real ID in the bottom of her bag along with 4 of the remaining credsticks. In the pocket of her pants she slid the small cell phone with the emergency number and the credstick she used to secure the motel space. She started to shrug on her jacket and then stopped, realizing it was one of the kinds of things most people would identify her with in the club district. Tonight she’d just have to brave the cold like most of the club-going babes who wore as little as possible to get inside the top spaces regardless of the weather.

She made her way from the coffin motel after turning back on her floor three times to ensure the door to her space and her things was closed and locked up tight. When she stepped outside she immediately put her arms around her small frame to try to keep warm as her hair whipped around in the breeze. She walked at a brisk pace, laying waste to the few blocks between her and the lines of people trying to get into the various clubs. Out of habit she made a bee-line towards Element but before she could get herself in the long line waiting to hit the door, she forced herself to veer off slightly and walk a few doors down to another club called Buddha.

There she waited again in line keeping to herself, flirting a bit with those that she thought were worthy of her attention. After a decent wait she was finally in front of the doors and the bouncers and ready to give her new ID its trial run.