Burnt Magna Open Ic, Cool your feet, have a drink. Options

[MrSandman666]

Ohanzee is a little held back at the arrival of the newcomers. He looks at both of them from hair to toe thoroughly as they sit down, as if to judge them. However, he utters no words of welcome. Looking at them from time to time, whenever they say something, he keeps silent for most of the time.
When the 'waitress' comes around to take orders he hands her his tumbler and orders: "I'll try some of your black tea then."

[lodestar]

His glass refilled with the transparent firewater, With a wide smile revealing his twin stainless stubs of tusks, he raises it to the group now seated before him. In a rumbling sober voice "To old comrades."

[The_Sarge]

Murphy glances up with a far-off look on his face, and heaves his glass as he continues Boris' sentence like it was some sort of ritual...

"...lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due." he sighs silently. "It is a very old quote, but it is so... Fitting, so often. And here we go again."

As the world around him comes back with an intense clarity, he also realizes what there is to Boris. A warm smile appears again. A slight nod and another, this time ptivate, toast follow it.

"It's always nice to meet a... Brother."

[lodestar]

"Brothers..." He tastes the word like it is new and nods. "Is very good."

He takes a long drink from his plastic glass, clacking it against his teeth. "But is old soldier talk, no? Our guests here have tell story of their own. This lady..." He gestures towards the she-troll, "be having good story I would be guessing, Yes?"

[Blitz]

:: Olga watches silently as the uncomfortable silences are followed by a seemingly emotional, yet ritualistic toast. She can sense the comradere and the empathy these warriors share, wondering if these are the sort of men like her father. Big John was a warrior like these men, in this field. Perhaps Iblis had made a good decision in getting friendly here. ::

:: When the conversation turns directly to herself, she shifts on the bench uncomfortably and glances towards Iblis quickly. ::

"Uh...well, no...not much. Im Olg..er..Overkill. Kinda new to thish line of work. Following in my fathersh footshteps more or lessh. Trying to live up to his reputation."

[MrSandman666]

Ohanzee is getting more and more interested in the troll. He starts observing her more thoroughly, even though you'd only notice it if you watched him closely.
As she talks about being new to the business, Ohanzee enters the discussion again:
"You're new to this business? Now what business do you mean by that?", he asks in a very neutral, interested kind of manner, which makes it hard to guess the intention behind this question, whether it is to lure her into a trap or genuine interest or being kind by helping her make conversation.

[The_Sarge]

Murphy shots his glance to Ohanzee for a moment and immediately eyes the big woman. He lets his head fall to the left and rubs his chin with his fingers. Well, that should prove... Interesting.

[Buddha72]

:: Iblis leans back from the table and wraps her arms around her waist. She is comforted by the grips of her two heavy pistols. She thinks to herself "I hope this stays all non-lethal like. I hate bar shoot ups." She props her knees underneath the table rim, ready to flip it up for cover if this goes the wrong way. She lets her eyes wander the group and makes a point to appear casual and relaxed.::

[Blitz]

:: A low rumbling chuckle escapes her lips as she senses Iblis's tension. Olga was fairly sure there was not going to be any violence. As far as she could tell, everyone at the table was strangers to one another, save her and her small friend. That gave them a serious advantage and these men seemed intelligent enough to recognize the fact that any violence would end badly for just about everyone involved. ::

"The businessh that findsh each of us sitting in this dump on a late rainy weeknight instead of in a cozy corporate condo. The same businessh that those without ShIN must do to survive."

:: She smiles in a rather disturbing manner, despite her intentions, at her little play on words as she raises a challenging eyebrow at Ohanzee. ::

[MrSandman666]

Ohanzee chuckles inwardly accepting the challenge but manages just barely to keep his poker-face. After looking down at his cup of tea for a short moment he looks the Olga in the eye again:
"How come you think we're not law abiding citizens, with SIN and all. For all you know, Murphy here could be a privat eye and I could be a Lone Star cop working under cover. In fact, I do have a perfectly legal SIN and a warm, cozy condo waiting for me on the other side of town. Maybe we where luring poor ol' Boris into conducting business with us in order to arrest him caught in the act?"
He then tries to put on a questioning expression and look as innocent as possible at the same time.

[Blitz]

:: Olga's smile remains, though her tusks make it hard to descern. ::

"My friend, I think you misunderstood me. I said without sin..not without a sin. As for you being Law Enforcement here to entrap..."

:: She pauses briefly to Iblis to check that she did in fact use the correct word. ::

"...Borish here, you would have failed your misshion by what you've shaid. To the manner of businessh, I do not mean the nuyen producing type...but rather the businessh of living in general. You shee, by new, I mean that I am new to the world without a ceiling.

"If you have a comfy corp condo across town, why do YOU choose to spend it here?"

[The_Sarge]

Murphy grins at the Private Eye reference. But he waits, sunk in his chair, until the end of it all. He enjoys it. But as Olga ask this question, he chuckles. Friendly, not mocking.

"'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!', a wise man said once. I don't think anyone here would be able to cast this stone. I, certainly, wouldn't." he looks around the table, and tries to get eye-contact with every patron.

"Somehow... I trust you. I don't know why. Perhaps, because I sense a comrade soul. Perhaps, because the rain, and the tea, and the vodka have clouded my senses. And perhaps, because I have dealt with the lowliest scum on this dirty planet, and am still alive to regret and laugh and cry.

I, too, have a nice condo. One of the pieces left from my past. Why am I here? Because I wouldn't make it in time. Because... I'm alone there. No one to share my thoughts with. It's not a place where everybody knows your name... That's why I'm here. And, because I like you people." a warm, friendly and very compassionate smile runs over each and every face.

"Paranoia's good in this bis. But sometimes you have to screw it. Because if you don't, you go crazy..."

'Murphy... Stop making this weird old references and talking with strangers!' she always said that... I still go ahead and do it. It's my way. And I go my way. It's everything I've got now...

[lodestar]

The mountain of "Boris's " form starts to quiver, and a momentary alarm spreads across the table. It is an unusual sight, one not many get to see.

He is laughing.

"It is good! This remind me of home!" The voice near infrasound, now composed and the movement beneath the heavy coat subsided. He looks towards Murphy "No comrade, there is never enough paranoia. You sit with one who knows!" He leans forward and pulls off his wet coat to let it heavily flop back on his chair. Beneath is a blue and white striped tank top which barely contains the roadmap of scars beneath. Coarse fibred bioplast plates make up most of the exposed skin which is a patchwork of the full line of possible human skintones. Apparently the surgeons weren't into cosmetic appearance. The only distingushing features being the dull black stenciled tatoos in cyrillic on each shoulder and the cracked leather shoulder rig in its diagonal line breaking the barrel like chest into uneven halves. To not raise alarm he slowly eases the heavy revolver from beneath his left arm and sets it on the table with a dull gunmetal thud. An old S&W .45, naked and scuffed. "There, we can all relax now. Comrade John is no policeman. If he is, he would not be here alone."

He leans back in his chair, satisfied at some of the startled looks. "Sit. Drink. Relax. Who knows? We might be dead tomorrow."

He takes another drink, then looks towards the young elf woman. "You not be relaxing with hand on gun. There will be no fight here tonight."

[Buddha72]

:: Iblis winks at Boris and resumes her previous stance before the discussion.::

"Mr. Bang-Bang is off for the night anyway. I hate being shot by people with character, it rubs me the wrong way."

:: She drinks some more cola and raises her eyebrows at her troll companion.::

"So condos, must be nice. I only recently joined the ranks of those with doors on the places they sleep. That was an expensive upgrade so it may be awhile before I reach condo status. So what do you boys do in the biz?"

:: Her expression is open and eager, sincerely friendly.::

[grendel]

The thin rain pattered on the roof of the heavy BMW sedan as it idled at the curb. Senate scrutinized the ruin of the building housing the bar, his eyes cold and deliberate. Little vehicular traffic filled the street, and even less pedestrian. The rain did a good job of driving the squatters to whatever convenient shelter they could find. The woman in the back seat watched him wordlessly.

"We have other places on our list." She spoke quietly, playing idly with the skirt that hung over her knee. Senate glanced back over his shoulder, first to her face, and then to the long expanse of leg bared by her pose. He smiled, raw emotion shimmering across the mask of indifference he wore in anticipation of the coming meeting. In a moment, though, he was a professional again.

"We need to check all of our options before we begin eliminating possibilities. I'll keep the channel open. Standard comm plan." Senate turned back to the front again, reaching behind him for the Colt Manhunter held just behind his right hip. The circuitry in his palm interfaced with the weapon's own computer, the digital readout in the lower right corner of his vision telling him that the pistol was fully loaded, a round was in the chamber, and the safety was off. Satisfied, he straightened, glancing left, then right.

"I'm ready."

The door to the sedan swung open in response to a silent command and Senate stepped out into the rain. He stood for a moment, settling the long coat onto his shoulders as the car door swung closed, then moved off at a brisk walk towards the entrance. He could see his reflection in the rain slick plastic walls, a dim and distorted picture of his meter ninety, eighty five kilo frame. Nothing spectacular, but certainly not ordinary. It was a predator's physique, bred by years of working on the sharp end. With that thought in mind, he slipped through the narrow entrance and into the bar.

He paused, stepping to the side of the door so as not to silhouette himself. His eyes took in the worn bar and equally worn bartender, the one surly waitress, and the five individuals clustered around the table in back. They were his reason for being here. Unconsciously he flexed his right hand, his gun hand, wishing that his backup was closer than the vehicles across the street. It could not be otherwise, though, if he were to maintain the necessary illusions.

With his eyes accustomed to the lighting, Senate crossed to the bar, his footsteps loud in the almost empty room.

"Beer," he answered the bartender's questioning look, "whatever you have cold in a bottle."

Waiting for his drink, he glanced around the room again, careful to avoid letting his eyes rest in one place for too long. It told him what he wanted to know, though.

Here we go.

[MrSandman666]

Now, for the first time this night, Ohanzee laughs. It's a quiet, gentle and friendly laughter.
"No, you're right. I'm not from the Star or any other law enforcement institution. You have nothing to fear from me. I'm sorry... Overkill... I was just playing. Don't you have a more convenient name for us?"
He turns towards the rest of his... comrades and continues to speak:
"I hope you don't mind if I put all my weapons on the table, do you? I always like to have them on me just in case of unwanted surprises." He leans back and his coat slides off his lap, revealing two large, polished guns in concealed shoulder holsters, readied for a quick draw. Two artfully embossed steel tomahawks are tucked under his belt.
"As far what brings me down here... well, business, I guess. My wife is not at home and right now I'm not too eager to be alone. And I'm not free of sin, either. But who can claim that nowadays, anyways...
I don't know why I trust you people. I'm doing lot's of things tonight that I usually wouldn't be doing. I just hope it doesn't get me in trouble", he adds with a wink.

[Fenris]

He can feel it, rising inside him like a familiar friend as he steps around the corner. That preternatural awareness that's kept him alive for so long, the hum and the snap and the crisp feeling of life all around him.

He can also feel the hole. A grimace crosses his feature as the usual panoply of images crosses his mind's eye: his flat, the explosion, and the fall. Once more he silently curses William as he stands outside the beaten down bar.

This is what it's come to? he wonders silently to himself. He shrugs, the need for information and new contacts driving him in more then the tentative offer from the stranger last night. He feels the reassuring weight of the batons stashed at hip and back under his long coat, and the unfamiliar tug of the pistol he'd taken to carrying around since the accident.

Accident my ass, he snorts, stepping into the the dimly lit bar.

He spots the group immediately, and gives Senate a knowing nod before moving over to the only occupied table, coughing lightly and speaking in a low voice with a rather thick British accent.

"May I join you gents? And ladies," he adds belatedly, tipping his head to the troll and her companion.

Looks more like a social gathering then a business meeting,

[Blitz]

:: As new arrival approaches their little impromptu party, Olga realizes that the table is getting a bit crowded. Shifting to one end of her bench to make space for the new arrival, she takes a minute to scrutinize the figure she heard entering and who continues to wait at the bar. It takes her about 2 seconds to recognize him. They wear their purpose like a badge on their sleeve. Under her breath she whispers one word. ::

"Johnson"

:: Raising her voice just enough for Iblis to pick up. ::

"Looksh like business just walked in."

:: Shifting slightly, she adjusts her shotgun just enough for the grip to be readily accessible, yet not nearly so obviously threateningly obvious as Ohanzee. Only then does she raise her voice in answer to his question. ::

"Some call me OK."

[MrSandman666]

"OK, that's a nice and positive name, OK", Ohanzee answers with a smirk. Having heard Olga's whispered words (one of the very few times he is thankful for all his implants) he then eyes the new arrival with some mistrust, which he forgot to hide, from head to toe and after a moment he says in a very matter-of-fact type of voice, which leaves a lot of room for interpretation: "Well, if you can find yourself a seat, mister, go right ahead."

[Buddha72]

:: Iblis leans back in her chair, hanging her head over the back and eyes the gentleman near the bar.::

" Well hello Mr. J." she whispers back to Olga.

:: She leans back forward and twists towards the new arrival at their table and once again unleashes a neon white smile. As she speaks she draws her eyes down his form slowly, lingering over choice areas. Her voice comes out slow and sensual, holding unseen promises.::

" You are welcome to share my seat. I like strange men but you have to promise to play nice, just like the rest of the boys here."

:: Olga rolls her eyes, once again Iblis changes gears and tries to draw all the attention to herself. ::

[Fenris]

Marcus returns Ohanzee's suspicious assessment with one of his own, and gives Iblis a tight lipped nod as he pulls a chair up to the already crowded table and folds himself into it.

Lean and tall, the face that settles across the table from the group is anything but pretty, and it's obviously seen it's share of breaks...hard breaks. His expression is neutral for the moment, however, although the popping of joints as he flexes his hands is audible even over the low hum of conversation.

"Senate would like a word with everyone," he says quietly, the accent still apparent, and turns to look at the figure still standing at the bar.

[MrSandman666]

Ohanzee sends a questioning look to the stranger, one eyebrow raised.

[grendel]

Senate drank from his beer, an import which was surprisingly good all considered, and watched his reflection in the dirty mirror behind the bar. His lips curled in a half-smile as he caught the whispered conversation from the table. He couldn't understand what was said, but he could guess as to the nature of the comments.

They're quick. Maybe this won't go so badly after all.

Turning to face the table, he pitched his voice to carry. The half-smile and the careless manner in which he leaned against the bar were both designed to present a neutral stance.

"If, by that, you mean I am here seeking possible employees, then you would be correct. In any other context, though, you aren't. Neither I nor the individuals I represent have any corporate affiliations. Hopefully that will be a positive influence on any contract between us. The job I have to offer is simple, two days and two nights of guard duty, and pays five thousand nuyen each upon completion. The travel required is minimal. A verbal agreement is all I require in order to reveal further details. Shall I continue?"

Senate drank from his beer again, reading the faces that stared back at him from the table.

[Fenris]

Marcus, having already heard the short and sweet pitch and agreed to further information, simply leans back a bit in the old chair, glancing at each of the group in term, assessing, deciding, making the snap judgements that come so easily to people in this line of work, and are so vital to continued survival.

[Buddha72]

:: Iblis looks to her troll companion and gives a small nod. She speaks without bothering to turn around, throwing her voice back over her shoulder.::

"Well, you get me all excited. The wet part was taken care along before you got here. Consider this a verbal agreement."

::When finished she downs the last of her cola and reaches into her backpack and withdraws a small palm computer.::