IC: Domini Umbra, In Character Thread Options

[Frater Inominatu...]

IC posts go >here<. :P

Link to OCC
OOC

[Foxx]

1201 p.m./Dawn's uptown apartment

The rhythmic tic of Melissas' Steins cellphone brought her back to the world of the waking. The elven woman laid wrapped in the sheets of her bed for a few moments listening to the tic-tic. A full mintue pass by before she relized that the caller was well aware of her sleeping habits and wasn't going to yield till she picked up the phone. Which only meant that it was...

"Hey doll, how’s things?" Came Trix, Dawn's fixer, smoked stained voice over cellphone.

"Peachy, you?"

"I’m good, Tony and I split up, the cheat’ in bastid! I shoulda listened. Anyway, I got a job if your interested. This guys connected so stay on your toes. It’s a small job for a big fish; bodyguard work for three days; escort the mark to a meet and return him to the safe house and your done. Johnson is paying very well, he’s already got a safe house set up and, to sweeten the pot stocked it with real food. Yeah, you heard me. I almost took the job myself girl! You have to at least go and listen. It’s good to know 'people' who know other 'people'. You get a good rep in those circles and you could be set. But, like I said, watch yourself and keep the contract clear. Oh, I got another call, gotta go. Shi.."

Dawn smacked her lips getting the dry taste out of her mouth and let her arm with phone in hand dropped down to the bed. She counted the second before it buzzed again indicating she just recieved a text message. Yep, it was the info where she was to go meet her promising employer. Good ol' Trix came through again, Dawn was defintely going to have thank her later if this turned out to be a good gig.

Tamburo. Dawn let the name bounce around in her head for a moment to see if anything registered about it. It was a name she hadn't heard before, but then again she was new in the business. Before she'd been working lesser jobs after she let one trade for another that was less phyiscally oriented. This could be the big break she'd been looking for and she wasn't going to let it slip by.

Dawn unwrapped herself from the silk sheets and let the cool air of the room prickle the surface of her tanned body. She picked up the robe that was tossed over the chair and went for the shower. She was going to handle this meet like any other though she may pack more then ususual. Dawn figure she may not get the chance to come back if there were to leave from the meet place to go do the job. It just wasn't done to make the client wait while you went back for something you forgot.

Dawn felt good about this though the inherent dangers were present. Bodyguard work wasn't her normal forte, but she could more then manage it. Hopefully this guys troubles weren't the overwhealming varity or they would defintely be needed to renegotiate the contract after she signed on.

[Tziluthi]

A call comes in around 1800. The screen shows a beach at sundown.

“Prive't, Kak de'la, comrade? How have you been? Are you thirsty? Matchsticks has two-for-one shots.”

Matchsticks is where the “cool” go to hang out. A smoky place with some light jazz playing in the background. The bar is mostly empty, a few early birds at the bar, some roadies sitting at a table near the double doors to the back room, and Rook sitting in a corner booth reading, of all things, a newspaper. He sees you across the room and waves you over.

Os barely manages to sit down before Rook starts his selling speil.

“Os, I have some work for you," Rook began, his coma patient impersonation slightly marred by his excitement. "The job isn’t the important thing. It is who the job is for that is important. Do you know who Ambrosi Tambor is?" the question was rhetorical, because he hardly paused to let Os speak.

"Let us say that he is connected, to power and privilege. He needs some reliable help to sit on a mark and some merchandise. He called me and I called you. Three days in a safe house, escort the mark to a meet and back and get paid; well paid. No problems right?” He smiles like the shark that he is.

“Declerry’s on 38th street. Do this an we may go far in this biz. Oh, do you like your steak rare?"

Os takes on an repulsed look, and says, "Do I look like a ghoul to you? The meat has to cook for a while, to let the flavor out."

"Anyway, no, I haven't heard of this Tambor guy. But if you say he is worth working for, then I'm willing to give it a shot."

He looks around the bar, unimpressed.

"Christ, Rook. I think you managed to find the last ten chain-smokers in Seattle. Do me a favor next time and find a pub that hasn't time warped into the 1930's. Anyway, tell this Tambor guy that he has my interest. Declerry's was it? When, exactly?"

[nick012000]

Bob was kissing the side of his groaning wife's neck, as they ground against each other under the sheets of his loft's bed, when the telecom beeped to announce an incoming call.

"Ah, drek!" he swore as he got up to answer it, taking care that none of his body below the chest was visible to whoever it was, and checked who it was before pressing the button to answer it.

"Hey, Bobby boy! Did I, uh, catch you in the middle of something?" asked the fixer, as his gaze flicked over Bob's shoulder, towards the bed where John's wife was lying.

"Yes, you did. Is there a reason for this call, or did you just want to say 'Hi'?"

"Listen, I got a job, last minute kinda deal. Nothing fancy. A little bodyguard work. More like babysittin actually, safe house is set up and, to sweeten the pot, the Johnson will throw in real, Arco-grown, food for the duration. He’s payin' at the high end of scale too. Whadda ya say? His name is Tamburo, Ambrosi Tamburo and he'll be at DeClerry’s on 15th Avenue and 38th Street NE at 10pm. Listen, the guy's connected so show some respect, you hear? Let me know when you‘re back, later chummer."

"Wait! Listen, buddy, you got more info than that? You know that I usually like as much intel as I can get, and I know you've got your sources."

[if the response from the fixer is negative]"Well, then, I don't suppose you could, well, find out more intel on the guy, could you? Things known associates, employers, and enemies, and the magical and mundane resources they control? There'll be cred in it for you. Call me back an hour before the meet to let me know whatever you've dug up, or what you haven't dug up."

[if the response is positive]"Uh huh. Is that it? Okay, then. I'll catch you later, then."

In any case, he'll slip back between the sheets with his wife, and her groans eventually turn into screams. After she leaves to go about her business, he'll go out to his balcony to observe the city, and think about what he knows about the mission, and to meditate on the nature of Gargoyle, his totem.

[Musashi Forever]

Razz presses the disconnect button on his wrist phone then used his remote control to unmute the trid. His small apartment was instantly filled with the sound of roaring engines and gunfire accompanied ny a commentator's play-by-play coverage of the combat biking race.

Figures, right in the middle of the championship series. Well maybe this "safe house" will have some decent channel selections.

Leaving the show on so that he can hear it throughout his home, Razz takes a quick shower, changes into his normal jeans and kevlar reinforced shirt then grabs a secure long coat out of his closet and slips into it. He debated packing the duffel in his closet with anything he might need for a job, but then decides against it. Hopefully the Johnson would not want him to go directly from the meet to the safehouse, he might be able to swing back by his apartment and grab a few things. He does long for the reassuring weight of his AK-97 hanging next to him, but with all the mods he had had made, the weapon was barely concealable, even under a long coat. If things got hairy at the meet, he would rely on his formidable arsenal of spell that hurt people.

Glancing at the schedule taped next to his door, Razz sees that a few different public transportation routes will get him to where he needs to be. Now he longed for his own motorcycle, wrecked now and rusting away in some junkyard.

At least I survived the crash. Fat Charlie said that this job would pay well. Maybe I'll be able to get a new bike after this is done.

The thought brings a tusky smile to his face. Then he opens the door, patting his long coat's many pockets to make sure he has a few other important items. A pocket flashlight and two doses each of Jazz and Kamikaze are in the right places. With that he steps out into the hallway, runs a hand through the orange bristles of his mohawk, and heads up to ground level.

Two busses and a subway later, he hits the street two blocks form the meeting place. He begins walking to the bar, trying to blend in with the crowd.

Just another ork out on the town, going to get a drink.

[Frater Inominatu...]

Dawn

[ Spoiler ]

Around 1930 hrs your phone rings, it's Trix. "So, Dawn, you ready for the big show? The meet is goin down at DeClerry's, on 38th street at 10 tonight. Look, I did some diggin', being were so close and all (ahem). This, guy Tamburo is connected to the Finnigan family. That's right Toots, da Mob. So you be careful you hear. This Tamburo is only solderi so either he's workin for a bigger fish or looking to move up the food chain. Either way you be careful. Hey, life calls, be better than the next guy. I'M COMMIN YOU FARGIN BASTIGE!" click.

Bob

[ Spoiler ]

1830 - First call: Hey, no problem. Just give me a little time and I'll see what I can dig up.
2000 - Second call: Bobby, your not... busy are you? I got some info for ya. This guy Tamburo is connected. The Finnigan family. He can't be much, I had to dig pretty hard (ahem) just to find his name. DeClerry's is a Tacoma joint. Mostly handles factory workers and what not. They got somethin goin in the back though, lotta money movin' though there. If you need anything else (ahem), you know I'm always here for you... (ahem)

[Frater Inominatu...]

Blue collar. If ever there was a description that fit a place it is here in Tacoma. Large factories, throw backs of a former era, billow white smoke from massive stacks in the distance. DeClerry's is a modest place; The stucco, faded and cracking from years of neglect, clings to the structure with the same determination that kept the factories in the distance operating well past there retirement. Though dilapidated, DeClerry's is clean and obvioulsy well cared for. The streets are swept and the door looks freshly painted. The opaque windows glow with warm light. The building sits between two structures. On the left sits a tattoo parlor, "Tony's Tatts." The right houses what looks to be an indepentantly owned stuffer shack. The buildings sit huddled together on the block with parking on either end. A narrow alley runs the length of the block behind the buildings. Each business has an alley access with a dumpster next to it. Even though DeClerry's is a single story, there is a fire escape ladder bolted to the wall next to the door.
Inside the place smells of cigar and whiskey. Immediately to the left and right are booths, some occupied, most not. They run along the front wall and down both sides until they meet the bar on the left and a "juke box" on the right. The bar extends three quarters the width of the room where it meets a wall that goes fills in the rest. The space in the middle has round tables, spaced for privacy, waiting for customers. The bartender looks up from his work and says "What'll ya have?" His voice, from years working in the bar, sounds like gravel being rolled around in an aluminum garbage can.

[Musashi Forever]

Razz glances around the bar for a trid screen that might be playing the combat biking championships, then looks back to the bartender. "Beer," he says.

While the bartender fills a glass, Razz takes another look around, this time focusing on more than just an absence or lack of television. He feel a little out of place. His hair and clothing styles are a throwback to his ganger days and this place was a little more upscale than his usual dives.

When the bartender returns, Razz drops some corporate scrip on the bar then says, "I'm looking for Tamburo. I was told to ask for him here."

[Sicarius]

*18:30.30* Stuffer Shack in Renton

Gregori jumped slightly as his mobile phone began vibrating rapidly. The other occupants of the soviet style line looked at him with agitation as his actions disturbed the careful eco-system that was developing as the assistant manager fought the good fight with the creditstick verifier. Sergei wanted to meet at Inferno. Music was a bit loud for Gregori's taste, but that wasn't important. Sergei liked it, and Sergei had a job.

Now the cashier was thumping the verification reader with an open palm. Machines 1 Mankind 0.

Gregori sighed, and stepped out of line. Someone immediately moved into place behind him. He looked over his shoulder at the triumphant and smiling intoxicated clubber who'd been blessed enough to advance in this ad hoc hierarchy. Meanwhile Gregori tapped out a text reply.

it read: O.K.


*18:58.54* Inferno

Gregori arrived at Inferno's not long after. He spotted Sergei near the bar and approached. As they made their way to a table lined with gorgeous women, Gregori nodded repeatedly as he heard the proposition. He tried to recall the name Tamburo as Sergei slugged his drink.

"OK!!" Gregori said over the pounding bass. He looked over the females apprecatively, than checked his watch.

"What is da brunette's name?" He asked.

"What!?" Sergei shouted back.

"The brunette!??" Gregori said, trying to gesture without pointing.

"WHAT!?"

"Nevermind! I go now." Gregori gave Sergei a polite hug and than moved through the sea of gyrating enjoyment seekers, and out into the silent, by comparison, evening.

Checking his watch Gregori figured, with nothing else on the agenda heading to deClurry's now was not a problem. He hated being late anyway.

Public transportation did not rule in his favor however. As he sat on the subway, the superheated air from the broken air conditioning blowing down his neck, he sighed.

Machines 2 Mankind 0

As eternities came and went, Gregori rocked back and forth on impatient feet. Finally the subway cars began moving again. It wasn't long after that Gregori found himself pushing against the door of DeClerry's.

[nick012000]

19:55, Declerry's

As the other people are arriving, an RV pulls up and parks along the road in front. The click of a lock opening is heard from within, and then the door opens to reveal a very tall, very skinny, albino elven man, clad in a black pair of jeans and a similarly colored t-shirt underneath a greatcoat. He wears a pair of wraparound sunglasses whose silvered lenses match the datajack implanted in the side of his head.

Particularly observant people might notice the heavy pistol (Concealability 4) he has concealed under his arm.

[Frater Inominatu...]

Tamburo, Tamburo, Now where have I hears that name before? Gregori thought to him self. It seemed to him the name was in the news recently. The thought troubled him until just as he was stepping off the subway, then it came to him. Tamburo, wasn't that the guy who was acquitted three months ago? He was being tried for murder or something. Mob lawyers got him off on some lame technicality.

[Sicarius]

*19:55.53* DeClerry's Tacoma Bar

As Gregori entered the bar, he was thinking Tamburo. A Mob thug, recently acquited of some felony. It told him this fellow was fairly well connected, given his legal defense. But not that much besides. Food for thought... was was what they called it.

Gregori looked around the bar as he entered. His first instinct was to look for anyone who seemed out of place, or otherwise armed. The pressure of the Predator pressed against the small of his back, was a small comfort, less ... corporal weapons in his possession were even more so. He preferred to keep them both under cover if possible. After all, the teeth that weren't bared, often had the sharpest bite.

He approached the bar, looking for attention from the bartender:

"Tamburo, he is here?" He said finally to the barkeep.

[Foxx]

9:50 p.m./Friday/DeClerry's

Dawn was touching up her make up as her Eurostar pulled up infront of the tatoo palor. The make up was just to highlight her already natural beauty and she felt short of naked with out it. Trix made good on the infomation about who she was taking the job from. It been a while since she picked a job that included dealing with the mafia. Dawn knew the dangers that was associated with it and she was walking in with her eyes wide open. This wasn't the first time that she and the mob had a working relationship, but this time she was an idependent worker and not part of a business operation. She wasn't an asset anymore.

First real job with the mob. Dawn thought. The Eurostar pulled into a parking spot allowing Dawn a moment to look the area over. It had that quaint feeling you get when watching on old movie. Quaint but with a twist of unexpected danger. She was glad she packed her protection as well as her small makeup pad. No need to over do it, but no reason to walk in unprepared. After all she was trying to pull off being a professional in this gig.

Now or never, Dawn locked the door and stepped out of the car. She kept the dressing simpke, blouse, slacks, suit of fitted body armor underneath all that. Next was the trench style coat with the belt set backwards. The need for free movement was the reason for that and it looked cool to her. the clothes were nice but only the wrapping on their clung too. Dawn was indeed an enchanting woman with blonde hair pulled up into a loose bun held together with long zanji pins.

All was said and done, now she just had to meet the employer. She walked through the door and headed for the bar, checking out the people already inside.

[Sicarius]

*9.51.24* DeClerry's Bar, Tacoma

Gregori turned his head from the bartender, to look at the armed men. His hand unintentionally reached for the small grey furry object dangling from the thigh length leather jacket. His free hand tapped idlely against the exposed black armored vest beneath. The plate beneath made the neatest metallic sound, and playing with it was a nervous habit. Some people made a big deal of concealing their armor, which Gregori thought somewhat silly. Perhaps being underestimated had value. But Gregori preferred to make his presence known. To watch the reaction as you startled the sheep. Their fear provided openings.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a look at the blonde. Apparently she believed in underestimation, but it wasn't working for her. quite a looker as the Americans said.

Business. That was the best defense against distraction. Gregori eyed the two, apparently armed men in the corner booth again. They were considerably out of place with their style of dress. Of course so was Gregori . Gregori's first bet was that they were byaki , bodyguards, for the contact.

The idea of bodyguarding was not attractive one for Gregori. By preference he'd rather be doing the hunting. But in this day and age, one dined at the table that was set.

[nick012000]

*9:55, DeClerry's Bar*

The pale elf walks into the bar, looks around, and walks over to the well dressed men.

"Hello. I am here to mean a man named Tamburo. Would either of you gentelmen be him, or know who he is?"

[Tziluthi]

10:01:59, Declerry's Bar, Tacoma

From his vantage point 100 meters down the street, Os watched the assortment of odd-types enter the bar. Caution satisfied, Os exited his vehicle, a decommissioned Lone-Star patroller, and made for the bar.

[Frater Inominatu...]

[Frater Inominatu...]

[Frater Inominatu...]

[Frater Inominatu...]

10:05:23 / DeClerry's

A door opens on the south wall opens and a short, barrel chested man steps out. He straightens his suit and looks around the room. "Sorry I'm late" he begins "I'm Tamburo. Come on, we can talk back here. He leads you past a room where young men and women are talking on phones, taking bets and placing them, to a small office with a conference table. "Please sit. Can I offer you something to drink?" He leaves to fetch any orders and when he returns he sits at the head of the table. "I have a deiscrete job I need done and you have been recommended. My employer has recently acquired a bit of leverage against his competition. Plans are being made. In the mean time I need some able bodied help to manage things until his plans dictate. I have a safehouse prepared for you, a... family place. I need you to sit on a courier and his package until I call. Deliver him where I tell you and come back to the safehouse for your pay. It shouldn't be more than three days, and because this isn't your typical job I am prepared to offer each of you 1200 nuyen for the job. The safehouse is nice. It even has a hot tub. I even had it stocked with some agro-grown food to sweeten the pot. So, there's my cards. You want the job or not?"

[ Spoiler ]

Everyone make a perception(4) test

[Tziluthi]

"Twelve-hundred, huh? You're going to have to do better than that."

[nick012000]

Perception test:

[ Spoiler ]

15,9,4,4,3,2

"How long will this job take? I have to spend a not inconsiderable abount of money maintaining my garage of vehicles, and if this job doesn't pay enough for me to do so, I will have to look elsewhere for work."

[nick012000]

Perception test:

[ Spoiler ]

15,9,4,4,3,2

"How long will this job take? I have to spend a not inconsiderable abount of money maintaining my garage of vehicles, and if this job doesn't pay enough for me to do so, I will have to look elsewhere for work."

[nick012000]

Perception test:

[ Spoiler ]

15,9,4,4,3,2

"How long will this job take? I have to spend a not inconsiderable abount of money maintaining my garage of vehicles, and if this job doesn't pay enough for me to do so, I will have to look elsewhere for work."

[nick012000]

Perception test:

[ Spoiler ]

15,9,4,4,3,2

"How long will this job take? I have to spend a not inconsiderable abount of money maintaining my garage of vehicles, and if this job doesn't pay enough for me to do so, I will have to look elsewhere for work."