Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:34:00
It had been a long and frustrating day so far for the twins. Locations one through nine, plus #14, 16, and 23 had been in Touristville, but none of their leads had panned out. Of course a lot of people had wanted their business, with many willing to lie about recognizing the style, or at least implying enough to reel the elves into looking at this album or that AR display of their work. But when it came right down to it, no one had been able to prove they'd done the work.
And at each successive location, it seemed that both staff and clientele had climbed out of an even lower depth of the genetic cesspool that was Seattle - orks and trolls and horrible beasts that could have been some sort of amalgamation of the two. No stranger to needlework, Conall had cringed to see spikes dropped onto the filthy floor and then picked right back up and put back to work. And the shamelessness of these gutter-tribe women, receiving piercings of their most intimate parts without even bothering to shut the curtains on the work alcoves.
He knew there had to be reputable places in Seattle that catered to a better class of people, but apparently none were on Frank's list - at least not in Redmond.
It had been especially discouraging because they had hoped that since their target had operated in this area, that he was local, which might mean a small-time player.
If he was a pro, who knew how far afield he might have come from, or where he might have gotten his ink?
After a quick and necessarily cheap lunch, Conall's bike had whisked them west across town to the waterfront. Not the upscale parts housing the aquarium and Pike's Place Market, but the seedy depths of dockworker culture. There were just as many orks and trolls down here as he'd seen anywhere, but at least they all seemed to have some sort of appropriate employment for their kind. It wasn't quite as bad as Redmond, and locations ten through thirteen were in this neighborhood.
The first place they tried was the Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor. It was quiet at the moment, with a skinny, pimply-faced human behind the counter - the kind of ugly no-account that covered himself in ink not out of any sort of pride in his heritage, but simply because he could think of no other way to make himself special. But the work on his sleeves did look promising - high quality, and not too far off the sort of thing they'd seen on their red-goateed target.
Etain had flashed the punk a smile that made Conall want to punch the boy just for having seen it, and then she launched into her by-now well-rehearsed spiel. She thought the work was outstanding. She just had to find the artist that had done it.
The guy had simply shrugged, no idea in his mind that his positive response might be the best thing that had happened to these two elves all day, and said, "Looks like Ricky's work." He yelled into the back, "RICK! Got a couple of customers for ya."
A few moments later a huge human appeared rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was everything Conall despised in humans - slovenly, unshaven, poorly dressed, and ungainly. But he also instinctively made a note to himself that if trouble arose he'd best not get into close quarters with the giant, who looked incredibly strong. The man was either unable to grow a decent beard for all the fat on his face, or he simply hadn't shaved in a week or so. His shorts and tank top revealed a body covered in colorful art. He spoke with a surprisingly high voice:
"I'm Ricky. How can I help you."
Etain showed him the pictures, and he casually confirmed that "yeah, I did that" as he off-handedly flipped open an album on the counter showing the very same arms they had seen in the video.
Full Version: Hitting Bottom - First Wave
Pages: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35
Save-House, Martin Luther King Jr. Way S & S Ryan Way/Boeing Rd, Seattle, Van Asselt
Monday 08/15/70 16:19:00
John – Downtime
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
Finally done with the probing, John shut down the connection and opened the pirated Sniffer programm that he had finished cracking just a few minutes ago, to make a test run. Satisfied with the performance readout, he turned his attention back to the artist´s commlink. Taking every precaution at his disposal, he entered the device, carefully scanning for traps before every step. What he found posed no danger to him. It was a standard off the shelf system, Airware and Iris OS with no additional security features. The text content was all german, so much could John identify, beyond that, the storage was filled with unprocessed snuff material. Superficially screening through it, he judged that it was probably authentic and most likely uncomplient, maybe worth a few grand, if it had not yet been marketed. He transfered all data onto one of his blank credsticks and deleated the original files. He would check it in detail later.
Awakening from 6 hours of full VR, he streched on his couch. For a moment he mused if he would have felt sick a few months ago, from sifting through that kind of snuff shit. Now he only fealt a cold and distanced kind of disgust.
Maybe that was a good sign, meaning that he adepted well to this new way of life, that he had regained some part of resolve and mental fortitude from before his very personal crash.
Maybe this was a bad sign.
Monday 08/15/70 16:19:00
John – Downtime
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
Finally done with the probing, John shut down the connection and opened the pirated Sniffer programm that he had finished cracking just a few minutes ago, to make a test run. Satisfied with the performance readout, he turned his attention back to the artist´s commlink. Taking every precaution at his disposal, he entered the device, carefully scanning for traps before every step. What he found posed no danger to him. It was a standard off the shelf system, Airware and Iris OS with no additional security features. The text content was all german, so much could John identify, beyond that, the storage was filled with unprocessed snuff material. Superficially screening through it, he judged that it was probably authentic and most likely uncomplient, maybe worth a few grand, if it had not yet been marketed. He transfered all data onto one of his blank credsticks and deleated the original files. He would check it in detail later.
Awakening from 6 hours of full VR, he streched on his couch. For a moment he mused if he would have felt sick a few months ago, from sifting through that kind of snuff shit. Now he only fealt a cold and distanced kind of disgust.
Maybe that was a good sign, meaning that he adepted well to this new way of life, that he had regained some part of resolve and mental fortitude from before his very personal crash.
Maybe this was a bad sign.
Save-House, Martin Luther King Jr. Way S & S Ryan Way/Boeing Rd, Seattle, Van Asselt
Monday 08/15/70 16:24:33
John – Lost In Translation
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
Getting up from his couch with a slight moan, the hacker-elf ordered a nice, light meal from the hotels room-service, unwilling to wait the extra five minutes to get something more luxurious from one of the regular places. After he had made a pit-stop in the bath-room, the food was already at his door. He gave a regular tip and took the plate in himself. While he enjoyed his snack on the balcony, he turned up his signal-range to the max and spoofing his favourite sucker´s IP from the GZ club again, accessed some fare off public router, to log onto a commercial text translation server. In his youth he might have pieced together the germen text´s meaning on his own, but two decades of lingua-soft use had whipped any trace of language expertise from his mind. He beamed the 25
from his certified credstick, unwilling to leave any connection to his private lifestyle or accepting a less the perfect translation. Using maximum encryption and anonymous rerouting as well as all the available security cut-outs, he was fairly sure that no-one was going to intercept his paydata – especially any numerical data, like comcodes and dates, which wasn´t processed at all. To be sure not to raise any authority attention, he included phrases and headers marking the content as work of fiction anyway.
Through another string of annonymized, sanetized re-routing services, he sent a message to violet´s personal comcode, identifying the sender as ‘SirRAMb0’.
<<SirRAMb0 @ V [08/15/70 16:23:10]: Hi! Got to get my stuff back from GZ. If you happen to have some spare time, how about grabbing a coffee afterwards?>>
While he got ready to do some sports, beamed a PM to Ms Johnson via Ape Scape.
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 16:24:33]: Thought I´d put those protocols to a test. Took care of the protection issue already? Best just answer yes/no, as long as you don´t use any extra encryption. I´m already working on that! Do you play squash?>>
Monday 08/15/70 16:24:33
John – Lost In Translation
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
Getting up from his couch with a slight moan, the hacker-elf ordered a nice, light meal from the hotels room-service, unwilling to wait the extra five minutes to get something more luxurious from one of the regular places. After he had made a pit-stop in the bath-room, the food was already at his door. He gave a regular tip and took the plate in himself. While he enjoyed his snack on the balcony, he turned up his signal-range to the max and spoofing his favourite sucker´s IP from the GZ club again, accessed some fare off public router, to log onto a commercial text translation server. In his youth he might have pieced together the germen text´s meaning on his own, but two decades of lingua-soft use had whipped any trace of language expertise from his mind. He beamed the 25
from his certified credstick, unwilling to leave any connection to his private lifestyle or accepting a less the perfect translation. Using maximum encryption and anonymous rerouting as well as all the available security cut-outs, he was fairly sure that no-one was going to intercept his paydata – especially any numerical data, like comcodes and dates, which wasn´t processed at all. To be sure not to raise any authority attention, he included phrases and headers marking the content as work of fiction anyway.Through another string of annonymized, sanetized re-routing services, he sent a message to violet´s personal comcode, identifying the sender as ‘SirRAMb0’.
<<SirRAMb0 @ V [08/15/70 16:23:10]: Hi! Got to get my stuff back from GZ. If you happen to have some spare time, how about grabbing a coffee afterwards?>>
While he got ready to do some sports, beamed a PM to Ms Johnson via Ape Scape.
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 16:24:33]: Thought I´d put those protocols to a test. Took care of the protection issue already? Best just answer yes/no, as long as you don´t use any extra encryption. I´m already working on that! Do you play squash?>>
Krait's place - Martin Luther King Jr. Way S & S Ryan Way/Boeing Rd, Seattle, Van Asselt
Monday 08/15/70 16:25:20
Violet's reply came back almost immediately -
<<That sounds great - but please let's make it by day! I should go with you - things'll go smoother. Today?>>
Monday 08/15/70 16:25:20
Violet's reply came back almost immediately -
<<That sounds great - but please let's make it by day! I should go with you - things'll go smoother. Today?>>
Save-House, Martin Luther King Jr. Way S & S Ryan Way/Boeing Rd, Seattle, Van Asselt
Monday 08/15/70 16:25:45
SirRAMb0 – Making an appointment
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
So much for his plans, but if he didn´t have to crawl through the barrens by night, that was all the better. It should also serve the Heart Breaker much better, as her prime business hours where probably after dark. He packed his things anyway, deciding that he wanted to go to the gym and the electronics shop right after the meeting, though he didn´t know in which order, yet.
<<SirRAMb0 @ V [08/15/70 16:25:45]: How ever you like it best, darling! Could be there at 1730.>>
Only thing that sucked as that traffic was much more dense this time of the day.
Monday 08/15/70 16:25:45
SirRAMb0 – Making an appointment
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
So much for his plans, but if he didn´t have to crawl through the barrens by night, that was all the better. It should also serve the Heart Breaker much better, as her prime business hours where probably after dark. He packed his things anyway, deciding that he wanted to go to the gym and the electronics shop right after the meeting, though he didn´t know in which order, yet.
<<SirRAMb0 @ V [08/15/70 16:25:45]: How ever you like it best, darling! Could be there at 1730.>>
Only thing that sucked as that traffic was much more dense this time of the day.
Sactuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:00
The flow of patients had been much the same as any other day, not leaving Carla much more time for brooding about her next course of action. But in mid-afternoon, business had fallen off sharply. The nun that assisted her took the opportunity to go back to the rectory to take care of some personal errand, leaving Carla alone - though not for long...sensing a shadow across the doorway, she looked up to see Georges St. Pierre standing and watching her, a quizzical expression on his blunt features.
He took a few steps forward, to within conversational distance. Having dealt with very few trolls in her upper class life in Manhattan, she still was not used to how LARGE he was, nearly twice her height, and probably four times her mass, if not more. He spoke softly. "Forgive the intrusion, Dona, I just wanted to see for myself that you were all right. I assume you have heard by now that there was... some trouble at...that place last night."
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:00
The flow of patients had been much the same as any other day, not leaving Carla much more time for brooding about her next course of action. But in mid-afternoon, business had fallen off sharply. The nun that assisted her took the opportunity to go back to the rectory to take care of some personal errand, leaving Carla alone - though not for long...sensing a shadow across the doorway, she looked up to see Georges St. Pierre standing and watching her, a quizzical expression on his blunt features.
He took a few steps forward, to within conversational distance. Having dealt with very few trolls in her upper class life in Manhattan, she still was not used to how LARGE he was, nearly twice her height, and probably four times her mass, if not more. He spoke softly. "Forgive the intrusion, Dona, I just wanted to see for myself that you were all right. I assume you have heard by now that there was... some trouble at...that place last night."
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:10
Carla couldn't hide the initial expression of alarm on her face; how did St. Pierre know that she was at Ground Zero last night? She was certain she had only told St. Pierre that Paddy was going down there - not herself.
She tried to mask her surprise as confusion. "I- of course I'm alright, Georges; I didn't go anywhere last night."
"Oh..." she added after a pause, as if she had just recognized what he was talking about. "Yes, I did send my friend to...that place last night. To find our dear lost sister. He told me there was a demon breakout, much like the one that took place here not too long ago. He managed to made it out safely, but I imagine that many people did n-"
She paused again; this time she genuinely had just realized something: Paddy (or was it Krait) had told her last night that "her friend" hadn't survived the attack. Carla didn't think much about it at the time - her mind was a bit preoccupied with other matters - but now she realized that "her friend" was a reference to St. Pierre's friend, Ernst.
She felt awful, and a little fearful. Was St. Pierre mad at her for killing his friend? But that would be ridiculous; he had no way of knowing that Carla was in any way responsible for the shedim outbreak.
Treading carefully, she asked, "H-how did you hear about the news, Georges? Did your guard friend tell you about it?"
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:10
Carla couldn't hide the initial expression of alarm on her face; how did St. Pierre know that she was at Ground Zero last night? She was certain she had only told St. Pierre that Paddy was going down there - not herself.
She tried to mask her surprise as confusion. "I- of course I'm alright, Georges; I didn't go anywhere last night."
"Oh..." she added after a pause, as if she had just recognized what he was talking about. "Yes, I did send my friend to...that place last night. To find our dear lost sister. He told me there was a demon breakout, much like the one that took place here not too long ago. He managed to made it out safely, but I imagine that many people did n-"
She paused again; this time she genuinely had just realized something: Paddy (or was it Krait) had told her last night that "her friend" hadn't survived the attack. Carla didn't think much about it at the time - her mind was a bit preoccupied with other matters - but now she realized that "her friend" was a reference to St. Pierre's friend, Ernst.
She felt awful, and a little fearful. Was St. Pierre mad at her for killing his friend? But that would be ridiculous; he had no way of knowing that Carla was in any way responsible for the shedim outbreak.
Treading carefully, she asked, "H-how did you hear about the news, Georges? Did your guard friend tell you about it?"
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:21
The huge troll ignored her question. He said, "Sisters don't lie sister. You help people, patch 'em up. I watch this turf. You're good at what you do. What makes you think I'm not good at what I do? Me and the Locos, we want to find Sister Esmeralda, if she's still alive. If you want to shut us out of that, that's your call. But I'm done talking to you until you're done lying to me."
He turned and headed towards the door.
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:21
The huge troll ignored her question. He said, "Sisters don't lie sister. You help people, patch 'em up. I watch this turf. You're good at what you do. What makes you think I'm not good at what I do? Me and the Locos, we want to find Sister Esmeralda, if she's still alive. If you want to shut us out of that, that's your call. But I'm done talking to you until you're done lying to me."
He turned and headed towards the door.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:25
"Hey, wait a minute!" Carla called after him, dropping her nurse-nun persona. "You know perfectly well that the community - not to mention the church - wouldn't approve of me going down there. Nobody wants to be treated by a doctor who hangs around a...a place like that."
"You know why I'm trying to keep this as secretive as possible - from everybody, not just you or Los Locos. You know I wouldn't lie out of malice towards you or your gang. So cut me some slack for trying to be careful."
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:25
"Hey, wait a minute!" Carla called after him, dropping her nurse-nun persona. "You know perfectly well that the community - not to mention the church - wouldn't approve of me going down there. Nobody wants to be treated by a doctor who hangs around a...a place like that."
"You know why I'm trying to keep this as secretive as possible - from everybody, not just you or Los Locos. You know I wouldn't lie out of malice towards you or your gang. So cut me some slack for trying to be careful."
In a cab, westbound on Interstate 90, Lake Washington, close to Seattle, Central
Monday 08/15/70 18:43:11
Krait – Literature studies
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
With the tools and trappings he´d need for his plans this evening stored inside a medium sized, black massenger bag, John jumped into a cab to Redmond.
On the way out, he gave Mr. Chu a call. He wanted to make a deal. Getting some cash, by selling the Sniffer utility that the fixer had sold him not long ago and which he had cracked just today. He could probably fatch a better price, if he fenced the programm him self, but he didn´t have the time to do so, and on the other hand, Chu knew that it was allmost new.
During the uneventfull ride to the barrens and back, he sighted and organized the translated information from the artist´s comlink, substantially improving the library he had allready compiled. The intel was probably worth about 5k for someone in the biz and could buy a nice favour from the law enforcement agencies. However, he had not yet decided to market it. This business was really sick and he wasn´t quiet sure if he wanted to promote any of it´s entrepreneurs. He did have less trouble to rationalize selling the graphic material. After all, the victems had allready suffered and putting the product on the market would decrease the demand, the prices and in turn the margin, thus reducing the amount of additional victims if only by an insignificant amount.
Violet allready awaited him at the parking lot. The walk to the club was easy, with the sun still high and the Heart Breaker escorting him, the elf did not see any trouble. The Ground Zero´s staff -eager to please any customers that did return after last night´s desaster- readily returned the technician´s backpack. Afterwards the two went back to the T-Top and talked for a while over a few cups of tasteless but hot soycoffee.
Now he was allmost back in Downtown and ready to do some sports -maybe meeting Ms Johnson or visit the guys at the shop.
Monday 08/15/70 18:43:11
Krait – Literature studies
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
With the tools and trappings he´d need for his plans this evening stored inside a medium sized, black massenger bag, John jumped into a cab to Redmond.
On the way out, he gave Mr. Chu a call. He wanted to make a deal. Getting some cash, by selling the Sniffer utility that the fixer had sold him not long ago and which he had cracked just today. He could probably fatch a better price, if he fenced the programm him self, but he didn´t have the time to do so, and on the other hand, Chu knew that it was allmost new.
During the uneventfull ride to the barrens and back, he sighted and organized the translated information from the artist´s comlink, substantially improving the library he had allready compiled. The intel was probably worth about 5k
for someone in the biz and could buy a nice favour from the law enforcement agencies. However, he had not yet decided to market it. This business was really sick and he wasn´t quiet sure if he wanted to promote any of it´s entrepreneurs. He did have less trouble to rationalize selling the graphic material. After all, the victems had allready suffered and putting the product on the market would decrease the demand, the prices and in turn the margin, thus reducing the amount of additional victims if only by an insignificant amount.Violet allready awaited him at the parking lot. The walk to the club was easy, with the sun still high and the Heart Breaker escorting him, the elf did not see any trouble. The Ground Zero´s staff -eager to please any customers that did return after last night´s desaster- readily returned the technician´s backpack. Afterwards the two went back to the T-Top and talked for a while over a few cups of tasteless but hot soycoffee.
Now he was allmost back in Downtown and ready to do some sports -maybe meeting Ms Johnson or visit the guys at the shop.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:36
St. Pierre didn't turn around, but he stopped at the doorway. He did not appear to be the forgive-and-forget type. But his curiousity apparently got the best of him. He squatted down on his haunches - leaving him as tall as Carla - pulled out an ugly-looking knife, and started paring away at his fingernails. He kept them very short. When he started speaking, he didn't look up.
"So, what? You're definitely a doc. But not a nun? Impersonating a bride of Christ - that's a hellfire offense. You some kind of pro or something? You working for someone?"
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:36
St. Pierre didn't turn around, but he stopped at the doorway. He did not appear to be the forgive-and-forget type. But his curiousity apparently got the best of him. He squatted down on his haunches - leaving him as tall as Carla - pulled out an ugly-looking knife, and started paring away at his fingernails. He kept them very short. When he started speaking, he didn't look up.
"So, what? You're definitely a doc. But not a nun? Impersonating a bride of Christ - that's a hellfire offense. You some kind of pro or something? You working for someone?"
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:36
Intimidated by his knife, Carla lowered her voice and reverted back to her reserved, respectful mannerisms. She didn't move any closer to him.
"Yes, Georges, I do work for someone: I am employed by this parish and I serve this community. But no, I am not a nun - nor have I ever professed to be. Ask les pères. Ask les soeurs. To become a Bride of Christ requires years of preparation and trial, and I would never be so presumptious as to bear that title without having gone through the proper training."
She paused nervously, watching St. Pierre fiddle with the blade.
"Now, I would very much appreciate your help in searching for Esmeralda. As a matter of fact, I'm afraid that we might require some...force to wrest her from her captors, and I imagine that you might be able to help us in that regard."
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:36
Intimidated by his knife, Carla lowered her voice and reverted back to her reserved, respectful mannerisms. She didn't move any closer to him.
"Yes, Georges, I do work for someone: I am employed by this parish and I serve this community. But no, I am not a nun - nor have I ever professed to be. Ask les pères. Ask les soeurs. To become a Bride of Christ requires years of preparation and trial, and I would never be so presumptious as to bear that title without having gone through the proper training."
She paused nervously, watching St. Pierre fiddle with the blade.
"Now, I would very much appreciate your help in searching for Esmeralda. As a matter of fact, I'm afraid that we might require some...force to wrest her from her captors, and I imagine that you might be able to help us in that regard."
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:47
Georges looked by turns chagrined and placated. He stood up. "Shit, sorry, you sort of act like a sister and all. I guess we all just assumed...I think you let us assume...but I guess that's on us. Anyway, you need heads knocked to get to Sister Es, you just say so. Or anything else we can do." He put out a hand.
But looking at the hand made Carla wonder if that was the same hand that had broken the arm of the old shopkeeper she'd treated today, the one who had refused to pay protection money to Los Locos.
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:47
Georges looked by turns chagrined and placated. He stood up. "Shit, sorry, you sort of act like a sister and all. I guess we all just assumed...I think you let us assume...but I guess that's on us. Anyway, you need heads knocked to get to Sister Es, you just say so. Or anything else we can do." He put out a hand.
But looking at the hand made Carla wonder if that was the same hand that had broken the arm of the old shopkeeper she'd treated today, the one who had refused to pay protection money to Los Locos.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius - basement clinic
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:55
Not wanting to offend him in anyway, Carla extended her hand, though her grip could contain little more than his index finger.
"I'll let you know how you can help as soon as possible," she assured him. This would certainly make Paddy happy, she thought; the [possibly free?] aid of a massive troll sure beat any kind of mediocre combat training that Krait or she herself could have possibly acquired in short time. Assuming Paddy kept his cool around St. Pierre...
Monday 08/15/70 16:25:30
Carla received Krait's message later that afternoon. She couldn't possibly figure out why he was talking about squash. Was that a code word they had established earlier? In either case, she wanted Krait to get acquainted with St. Pierre, assuming he might end up assisting them in the rescue. And besides, Krait always seemed eager to meet new people.
Marry Jane @ Thane: Yes to the first question. As to the second...I'm sorry, I don't understand. We should meet later today if possible, though.
Monday 08/15/70 15:32:55
Not wanting to offend him in anyway, Carla extended her hand, though her grip could contain little more than his index finger.
"I'll let you know how you can help as soon as possible," she assured him. This would certainly make Paddy happy, she thought; the [possibly free?] aid of a massive troll sure beat any kind of mediocre combat training that Krait or she herself could have possibly acquired in short time. Assuming Paddy kept his cool around St. Pierre...
Monday 08/15/70 16:25:30
Carla received Krait's message later that afternoon. She couldn't possibly figure out why he was talking about squash. Was that a code word they had established earlier? In either case, she wanted Krait to get acquainted with St. Pierre, assuming he might end up assisting them in the rescue. And besides, Krait always seemed eager to meet new people.
Marry Jane @ Thane: Yes to the first question. As to the second...I'm sorry, I don't understand. We should meet later today if possible, though.
In a cab, westbound on Interstate 90, Lake Washington, just entering Seattle, Central
Monday 08/15/70 18:44:20
Krait – making apointments
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
He had just sent a short reply to Ms Johnson, when he was on his way to Redmond.
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 16:26:00]: No games, just sports! Got a simple errand on the other side of town running at the moment, will be back and available in about 2.5h.>>
With some money collected, the baseball bat returned to the GZ and most importantly, his backpack with the present for Belinda in his posession again, he was ready to meet his employer.
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 18:44:20]: I´m free now, just set the time and place - or say 'go' and I´ll come over to the barrio imediately.>>
Monday 08/15/70 18:44:20
Krait – making apointments
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
He had just sent a short reply to Ms Johnson, when he was on his way to Redmond.
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 16:26:00]: No games, just sports! Got a simple errand on the other side of town running at the moment, will be back and available in about 2.5h.>>
With some money collected, the baseball bat returned to the GZ and most importantly, his backpack with the present for Belinda in his posession again, he was ready to meet his employer.
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 18:44:20]: I´m free now, just set the time and place - or say 'go' and I´ll come over to the barrio imediately.>>
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius: Clinic
Monday 08/15/70 18:45:30
Carla checked the time; she was still expected (or, more accurately, felt obligated to) stay at the clinic for at least another hour or so. She replied to Krait's message, telling him to arrive by the church around 20:00. She also sent a call to St. Pierre:
"Georges," she asked, "Could you come down to the chapel in an hour or so? I would like you to meet a friend of mine who is involved in our project. I think he'll be able to catch you up on the situation quite well."
Monday 08/15/70 18:45:30
Carla checked the time; she was still expected (or, more accurately, felt obligated to) stay at the clinic for at least another hour or so. She replied to Krait's message, telling him to arrive by the church around 20:00. She also sent a call to St. Pierre:
"Georges," she asked, "Could you come down to the chapel in an hour or so? I would like you to meet a friend of mine who is involved in our project. I think he'll be able to catch you up on the situation quite well."
In a cab, westbound on Interstate 90, Lake Washington, just entering Seattle, Central
Monday 08/15/70 19:00:50
Krait – tinkering the tech
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 18:45:57]: Will be there. Trying to fix that com for the girl and take it to you - will save me one ride. Anything else you want me to bring along.>>
With 1 hour, 14 minutes and 2 seconds left to make a less then 30 minutes ride, John navigated his cab to within one block of the electronics shop. Keeping an eye out for anybody following him, he snatched a six-pack and some sandwhiches from a local 24-7 to distract the crew, so they´d be pleased to take a break and let him do a little hardware-moding on one of the workstations, even though it was still open vor business.
Monday 08/15/70 19:00:50
Krait – tinkering the tech
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
<<Thade @ Marry Jane [08/15/70 18:45:57]: Will be there. Trying to fix that com for the girl and take it to you - will save me one ride. Anything else you want me to bring along.>>
With 1 hour, 14 minutes and 2 seconds left to make a less then 30 minutes ride, John navigated his cab to within one block of the electronics shop. Keeping an eye out for anybody following him, he snatched a six-pack and some sandwhiches from a local 24-7 to distract the crew, so they´d be pleased to take a break and let him do a little hardware-moding on one of the workstations, even though it was still open vor business.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:35:12
Their luck had finally taken a turn for the better, they’d found the guy responsible for the ink on the thug’s arms who snatched Esmerelda from the streets. Now it was a matter of sizing him up and playing the right cards and saying the right things. Etain had to admit his size alone was intimidating for a human and she wasn’t looking forward to flirting with the slovenly tattoo artist if it came down to that. Swallowing hard she finally looked up from the book and into Ricky’s eyes.
“Your work’s totally amazing, I’d love to sit down with you and see what you’d be willing to ink on my body. Any chance you can make some time for me in your schedule today for a private consultation?�
She didn’t leave out the heavy layers of inuendo behind her words, coupled with a smile that was more come-hither than the friendly one she flashed at the pimply faced kid behind the counter and a heavily laced mana boost to her words she hoped she could convince the guy to talk to them alone. She needed to get Ricky off the floor and alone so she could go so far as financially bribe him if she couldn’t work the information out of him on her own.
Monday 8/15/70 15:35:12
Their luck had finally taken a turn for the better, they’d found the guy responsible for the ink on the thug’s arms who snatched Esmerelda from the streets. Now it was a matter of sizing him up and playing the right cards and saying the right things. Etain had to admit his size alone was intimidating for a human and she wasn’t looking forward to flirting with the slovenly tattoo artist if it came down to that. Swallowing hard she finally looked up from the book and into Ricky’s eyes.
“Your work’s totally amazing, I’d love to sit down with you and see what you’d be willing to ink on my body. Any chance you can make some time for me in your schedule today for a private consultation?�
She didn’t leave out the heavy layers of inuendo behind her words, coupled with a smile that was more come-hither than the friendly one she flashed at the pimply faced kid behind the counter and a heavily laced mana boost to her words she hoped she could convince the guy to talk to them alone. She needed to get Ricky off the floor and alone so she could go so far as financially bribe him if she couldn’t work the information out of him on her own.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:05:00
Mary Jane @ Thade: Nope, come on over as soon as you can. I'll be waiting right inside the chapel.
Monday 08/15/70 19:05:00
Mary Jane @ Thade: Nope, come on over as soon as you can. I'll be waiting right inside the chapel.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:35:20
Ricky the tattoo behemoth did not hesitate. He winked at Conall and then turned his attention to Etain - "No problem at all. There's a private office we can use in the back."
He used one massive arm to pull back the multicolored hanging beads that screened the entrance to the rear of the shop, waving his other arm in a "ladies first" gesture.
Monday 8/15/70 15:35:20
Ricky the tattoo behemoth did not hesitate. He winked at Conall and then turned his attention to Etain - "No problem at all. There's a private office we can use in the back."
He used one massive arm to pull back the multicolored hanging beads that screened the entrance to the rear of the shop, waving his other arm in a "ladies first" gesture.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:37:47
Etain smiled up at Ricky as she brushed past him while she inwardly gagged. She was going to have to play this cautiously, but at least in a private room in the back it would take a bit of time for anyone to come to investigate if things got rough. Hopefully it would be an advantage to Conall as well if things went south.
She made her way down a tight hallway as Ricky directed her from behind. She could feel his eyes moving up and down her body as she walked before him, lingering in certain places longer than she appreciated. She was thankful however that Conall was behind the giant tattoo artist for if he had seen the way the man was looking his sister up and down things would have got ugly, fast.
“In there.�
The human grunted from behind her as they stopped before a door marked “PRIVATE� in garish colours and graffiti-like script. She turned the handle and was relieved to see it was exactly as it was described, a cluttered but otherwise relatively clean office type space. She made her way over to an empty chair and sat down and watched as Ricky maneuvered his large self into the office and Conall was left to stand near the door like a bodyguard. His distain for the human was evident and he had perfected the hired-help sneer as he crossed his arms across his chest.
Etain eased into the conversation talking about her desire for something with a more “Celtic� feel to her tattoo request but with all the dark and realistic feel of the thug’s tattoos. Ricky seemed to be into the idea and seemed to already be planning something in his head when he asked where she was considering getting the ink done.
With one hand she flashed enough skin as she raised the edge of the tank top she was wearing up just below her left breast. With the other hand she lightly brushed the pale skin from her hip to where the tank top rested. “Somewhere in this area I think would be fantastic.�
The movement wasn’t lost on Ricky nor was his reaction lost on Etain’s watchful eyes, she could swear he almost licked his lips as he nodded. She needed to get information out of him quickly before this went too far so she started off relatively harmlessly with her questioning along with a disarming smile.
“So, the guy who’s tat I like so much, you guys close? I mean with the amount of work he had, he must be a regular customer of yours. It seems like going under the needle would be so addicting.�
Monday 8/15/70 15:37:47
Etain smiled up at Ricky as she brushed past him while she inwardly gagged. She was going to have to play this cautiously, but at least in a private room in the back it would take a bit of time for anyone to come to investigate if things got rough. Hopefully it would be an advantage to Conall as well if things went south.
She made her way down a tight hallway as Ricky directed her from behind. She could feel his eyes moving up and down her body as she walked before him, lingering in certain places longer than she appreciated. She was thankful however that Conall was behind the giant tattoo artist for if he had seen the way the man was looking his sister up and down things would have got ugly, fast.
“In there.�
The human grunted from behind her as they stopped before a door marked “PRIVATE� in garish colours and graffiti-like script. She turned the handle and was relieved to see it was exactly as it was described, a cluttered but otherwise relatively clean office type space. She made her way over to an empty chair and sat down and watched as Ricky maneuvered his large self into the office and Conall was left to stand near the door like a bodyguard. His distain for the human was evident and he had perfected the hired-help sneer as he crossed his arms across his chest.
Etain eased into the conversation talking about her desire for something with a more “Celtic� feel to her tattoo request but with all the dark and realistic feel of the thug’s tattoos. Ricky seemed to be into the idea and seemed to already be planning something in his head when he asked where she was considering getting the ink done.
With one hand she flashed enough skin as she raised the edge of the tank top she was wearing up just below her left breast. With the other hand she lightly brushed the pale skin from her hip to where the tank top rested. “Somewhere in this area I think would be fantastic.�
The movement wasn’t lost on Ricky nor was his reaction lost on Etain’s watchful eyes, she could swear he almost licked his lips as he nodded. She needed to get information out of him quickly before this went too far so she started off relatively harmlessly with her questioning along with a disarming smile.
“So, the guy who’s tat I like so much, you guys close? I mean with the amount of work he had, he must be a regular customer of yours. It seems like going under the needle would be so addicting.�
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:37:58
"Are you kidding, me and EJ are like this," Ricky replied, holding up crossed fingers. "And he's not the kinda guy makes friends easy, if you catch my drift. But hey, you know, there's a bond, you know, a bond that comes with good ink work. It, uh, transcends the mere needlework, you know? There an...an intimacy there, you know?"
Monday 8/15/70 15:37:58
"Are you kidding, me and EJ are like this," Ricky replied, holding up crossed fingers. "And he's not the kinda guy makes friends easy, if you catch my drift. But hey, you know, there's a bond, you know, a bond that comes with good ink work. It, uh, transcends the mere needlework, you know? There an...an intimacy there, you know?"
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:38:36
Etain tilted her head slightly to look at Ricky a little more closely. Was there more to read in his comment about the bond or was she just making things up in her head. A slow sly smile spread across her lips as she nodded in response to his words.
“I can only imagine. I’m sure I’ll understand soon enough, right?� Her eyes left Ricky’s features for an instant to look towards her brother to reassure him she was in control and he needed to keep his temper in check for a little while longer. She could see the whites of his knuckles as he clenched his fists tighter and tighter while the rest of him remained calm.
“So Ricky, you and EJ like to party? Since it sounds like we’re all gonna become good friends soon, I should invite you guys to a little intense get together later tonight. That is, if your into that scene.�
Monday 8/15/70 15:38:36
Etain tilted her head slightly to look at Ricky a little more closely. Was there more to read in his comment about the bond or was she just making things up in her head. A slow sly smile spread across her lips as she nodded in response to his words.
“I can only imagine. I’m sure I’ll understand soon enough, right?� Her eyes left Ricky’s features for an instant to look towards her brother to reassure him she was in control and he needed to keep his temper in check for a little while longer. She could see the whites of his knuckles as he clenched his fists tighter and tighter while the rest of him remained calm.
“So Ricky, you and EJ like to party? Since it sounds like we’re all gonna become good friends soon, I should invite you guys to a little intense get together later tonight. That is, if your into that scene.�
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:38:36
The day had been stupidly long, boring, and poorly productive. He would have never admitted it, but Conall was starting to feel a growing ache in his legs from riding the bike around town so much. He felt dirty and crummy from simply sharing the same space as all those filthy lowlives. Every single tattoo parlor had looked worst than the other one... or maybe it was just him getting a little more annoyed and impatient each time. From where he was, it was starting to look as if they would soon hit a rather massive brick wall and they'd have to stop. They'd come up empty handed.
Arms crossed, trying not to look too pissed off, Conall had yet again busied himself in pretending to look at the so called art displayed on the walls. Doodled sketch done by mentally retarded children. Thats what they were. The young mage knew very well odds were they end their day with nothing to show for. He wasn't quite sure what Krait was up to today... All he wished was that he didn't find Esmeralda before them. Now, that would have simply been insulting!
Conall had been entertaining the thought of how wonderful a shower would feel when his pointed ears got wind of something. He hadn't been following his sister's discussion, since it was starting to sound like all the other spiel she had churned out earlier... but what had caught his attention was the sound the massive human that had just walked in made. Conall had, unfortunately, seen his shares of trolls. But this guy wasn't a troll.... although he was just about as big. He was massive... a real giant.
The young elf frowned a little bit, as he watched the man approach his twin. His instinct were all telling him to bolt forward and take her a good distance away from that.... thing. But he held fast. He simply stood his ground and observed the scene, barely hearing anything. Listening to people's chatter and decoding their innuendos wasn't his forte. No. The young shaman was too busy sizing Ricky up. If things started degenerating, taking him down would be a cake walk. Albeit three times Conall's size and mass, odds were that even without a single dweomer backing him up, Conall could move three times faster. That plus the fact it would be too close quarter for the giant to properly maneuver. Releasing the death grip that had taken his fists, the young elf relaxed a bit. Ricky was no threat. He'd never be.
Taking his spot in the door frame, Conall leaned non-nonchalantly against the frame. From his vantage point, he could keep an eye on both the reception area, and the tiny office. Nevertheless, most of his senses were aimed into the tiny room. With most of his weight shifted forward and on the tip of his feet, he could spring into action in a hearth beat.
Part of him wished Ricky would give him an excuse.
Conall heard his own jacket cringe as his muscle tightened instinctively.
Monday 8/15/70 15:38:36
The day had been stupidly long, boring, and poorly productive. He would have never admitted it, but Conall was starting to feel a growing ache in his legs from riding the bike around town so much. He felt dirty and crummy from simply sharing the same space as all those filthy lowlives. Every single tattoo parlor had looked worst than the other one... or maybe it was just him getting a little more annoyed and impatient each time. From where he was, it was starting to look as if they would soon hit a rather massive brick wall and they'd have to stop. They'd come up empty handed.
Arms crossed, trying not to look too pissed off, Conall had yet again busied himself in pretending to look at the so called art displayed on the walls. Doodled sketch done by mentally retarded children. Thats what they were. The young mage knew very well odds were they end their day with nothing to show for. He wasn't quite sure what Krait was up to today... All he wished was that he didn't find Esmeralda before them. Now, that would have simply been insulting!
Conall had been entertaining the thought of how wonderful a shower would feel when his pointed ears got wind of something. He hadn't been following his sister's discussion, since it was starting to sound like all the other spiel she had churned out earlier... but what had caught his attention was the sound the massive human that had just walked in made. Conall had, unfortunately, seen his shares of trolls. But this guy wasn't a troll.... although he was just about as big. He was massive... a real giant.
The young elf frowned a little bit, as he watched the man approach his twin. His instinct were all telling him to bolt forward and take her a good distance away from that.... thing. But he held fast. He simply stood his ground and observed the scene, barely hearing anything. Listening to people's chatter and decoding their innuendos wasn't his forte. No. The young shaman was too busy sizing Ricky up. If things started degenerating, taking him down would be a cake walk. Albeit three times Conall's size and mass, odds were that even without a single dweomer backing him up, Conall could move three times faster. That plus the fact it would be too close quarter for the giant to properly maneuver. Releasing the death grip that had taken his fists, the young elf relaxed a bit. Ricky was no threat. He'd never be.
Taking his spot in the door frame, Conall leaned non-nonchalantly against the frame. From his vantage point, he could keep an eye on both the reception area, and the tiny office. Nevertheless, most of his senses were aimed into the tiny room. With most of his weight shifted forward and on the tip of his feet, he could spring into action in a hearth beat.
Part of him wished Ricky would give him an excuse.
Conall heard his own jacket cringe as his muscle tightened instinctively.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:01
A brief look of consternation clouded Ricky's features upon hearing the ravishing elf's invitation, but he quickly recovered. "Absolutely. Absolutely. I'm there, you know. I mean, we're there. Thing is, EJ and Vanity are pretty tight, you know. Two hearts beat as one, and all that, you know. But I know some other guys, power lifters like me..." His smile told volumes about his assumptions concerning women's tastes in large men. "I make a few calls, and we can make your get together as intense as you like. It'll be great."
He winked again at Conall. It was a guy thing.
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:01
A brief look of consternation clouded Ricky's features upon hearing the ravishing elf's invitation, but he quickly recovered. "Absolutely. Absolutely. I'm there, you know. I mean, we're there. Thing is, EJ and Vanity are pretty tight, you know. Two hearts beat as one, and all that, you know. But I know some other guys, power lifters like me..." His smile told volumes about his assumptions concerning women's tastes in large men. "I make a few calls, and we can make your get together as intense as you like. It'll be great."
He winked again at Conall. It was a guy thing.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:42
Trying to control her look of disappointment at the thought of EJ not being at the party since he was their primary objective she did stash the name Vanity away in her head for later. Concentrating on that at least let her tolerate the disgusting come-ons from the weight lifter.
"The more the merrier. If your guy EJ wants to bring his old lady with that's totally fine by me and my friends I'm sure, right babe?"
She arched her brow and sent a pointed look towards her brother for approval, she needed to convince Ricky to bring EJ to her little impromptu get together otherwise they were gonna have a LOT more legwork to do hunting him down and it would only be harder if he knew people were interested in him. She'd have to enlist some help from Tuesday for a party spot worthy of leading the guys to.
"So Ricky," She took her time and let him enjoy the sound of her calling him by name. "I'm guessing you'll have something drawn up for me soon? And I'm sure you want to give me a number to call you at with the details of the party, right?"
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:42
Trying to control her look of disappointment at the thought of EJ not being at the party since he was their primary objective she did stash the name Vanity away in her head for later. Concentrating on that at least let her tolerate the disgusting come-ons from the weight lifter.
"The more the merrier. If your guy EJ wants to bring his old lady with that's totally fine by me and my friends I'm sure, right babe?"
She arched her brow and sent a pointed look towards her brother for approval, she needed to convince Ricky to bring EJ to her little impromptu get together otherwise they were gonna have a LOT more legwork to do hunting him down and it would only be harder if he knew people were interested in him. She'd have to enlist some help from Tuesday for a party spot worthy of leading the guys to.
"So Ricky," She took her time and let him enjoy the sound of her calling him by name. "I'm guessing you'll have something drawn up for me soon? And I'm sure you want to give me a number to call you at with the details of the party, right?"
Downtown Electronics Shop
Monday 08/15/70 19:16:41
Krait – tinkering the tech
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
After a few minutes of jibber-jabber over a beer with the guys, John beamed an NBA-feed from his com onto one of the shops huge wall-displays. While the crew watched the game and consumed the sandwiches, the elf retreated into the shop, to work on the artist´s comlink.
He removed the casing with a few cybernetically practiced moves and put it into the modelling box. The shop allready held a rendering of the Airwares standard casing and only a quick thought to programm the toollaser to improve the casing´s opening for adding another two settings to the power-switch. While the laser went to work, John instructed the OCE to burn his modified firmware onto an optical rom chip. Then he installed the new switch and the port for the firmware mod and finaly reassembled the device, taking special care to preserve the comlink´s water-resistant capacities. About ten minutes after he had started to work, he had allready compleated all the hardware tasks.
The only thing that was left to do, was to re-install the OS and put the communication-routines on it. So basically, he was ready to go and meet with Ms Johnson.
Monday 08/15/70 19:16:41
Krait – tinkering the tech
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
After a few minutes of jibber-jabber over a beer with the guys, John beamed an NBA-feed from his com onto one of the shops huge wall-displays. While the crew watched the game and consumed the sandwiches, the elf retreated into the shop, to work on the artist´s comlink.
He removed the casing with a few cybernetically practiced moves and put it into the modelling box. The shop allready held a rendering of the Airwares standard casing and only a quick thought to programm the toollaser to improve the casing´s opening for adding another two settings to the power-switch. While the laser went to work, John instructed the OCE to burn his modified firmware onto an optical rom chip. Then he installed the new switch and the port for the firmware mod and finaly reassembled the device, taking special care to preserve the comlink´s water-resistant capacities. About ten minutes after he had started to work, he had allready compleated all the hardware tasks.
The only thing that was left to do, was to re-install the OS and put the communication-routines on it. So basically, he was ready to go and meet with Ms Johnson.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:49
Ricky wasted no time in sending his contact info - not only commcodes, but home address, personal profile, and a link to a number of personal matrix nodes - to Etain's PAN.
"Oh yeah, don't worry - I will fill your party roster, you know?"
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:49
Ricky wasted no time in sending his contact info - not only commcodes, but home address, personal profile, and a link to a number of personal matrix nodes - to Etain's PAN.
"Oh yeah, don't worry - I will fill your party roster, you know?"
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:15:00
As usual, the clinic activity started to wind down towards the end of the work day. Although the clinic was still officially open, most of the nuns were already sweeping the floors and cleaning the supplies, getting ready to turn in for the night. Anxious for her meeting that night with Krait and St. Pierre, Carla was also eager to get the remaining patients out of the church as soon as possible. She tried her best to work efficiently without appearing rushed or careless.
Monday 08/15/70 19:15:00
As usual, the clinic activity started to wind down towards the end of the work day. Although the clinic was still officially open, most of the nuns were already sweeping the floors and cleaning the supplies, getting ready to turn in for the night. Anxious for her meeting that night with Krait and St. Pierre, Carla was also eager to get the remaining patients out of the church as soon as possible. She tried her best to work efficiently without appearing rushed or careless.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:53
The more Ricky talked, the more Conall got irritated with the situation. Even tho his sister was twice the master he was at discerning lies and reading people, even the young shaman could tell this fat piece of lard was full of shit. He was oozing it. He smelled like it. His shop smelled like him.
Bloody hell I hate this hole.
Pushing himself off the door frame, Conall fired a quick sentence in Sperethiel for his sibling.
“Go way up front.� he simply said, a dead serious stare in his eyes.
Conall still wasn't totally sure what he was going to do to Ricky... but he was going to do something alright.
Monday 8/15/70 15:39:53
The more Ricky talked, the more Conall got irritated with the situation. Even tho his sister was twice the master he was at discerning lies and reading people, even the young shaman could tell this fat piece of lard was full of shit. He was oozing it. He smelled like it. His shop smelled like him.
Bloody hell I hate this hole.
Pushing himself off the door frame, Conall fired a quick sentence in Sperethiel for his sibling.
“Go way up front.� he simply said, a dead serious stare in his eyes.
Conall still wasn't totally sure what he was going to do to Ricky... but he was going to do something alright.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:40:00
Stepping aside just a second to let his sister pass, Conall threw her one last look over his shoulder. The stare in his eyes told her that what was about to follow, he didn't want her to take part off.
Closing the door behind him, the young elf turned around and leaned on it, folding his arms over his chest. He had never been a real keen or smooth talker, but he was at least going to try a bit today.
“You're full av shoite Ricky. Me sister dare wus tryin' ter save yer lashings av pain in yisser day. I'll make it bleedin clear,� said Conall, pushing himself off the door and uncrossing his arms “We don't care aboyt de tattoo. Oi certainly don't care aboyt yer. We want EJ. You've given us 'is name, nigh oi want everythin' yer 'av on 'imself. If yer play barl, yer 'av me ward I won't kill 'im.�
Conall was thankful Etain wasn't there to hear or see him. He knew too well that only the tone of his voice carried a lethal threat. In the next few seconds, he would know if Ricky was going to leave the information in this room, or if he was going to leave bits and pieces.
Monday 8/15/70 15:40:00
Stepping aside just a second to let his sister pass, Conall threw her one last look over his shoulder. The stare in his eyes told her that what was about to follow, he didn't want her to take part off.
Closing the door behind him, the young elf turned around and leaned on it, folding his arms over his chest. He had never been a real keen or smooth talker, but he was at least going to try a bit today.
“You're full av shoite Ricky. Me sister dare wus tryin' ter save yer lashings av pain in yisser day. I'll make it bleedin clear,� said Conall, pushing himself off the door and uncrossing his arms “We don't care aboyt de tattoo. Oi certainly don't care aboyt yer. We want EJ. You've given us 'is name, nigh oi want everythin' yer 'av on 'imself. If yer play barl, yer 'av me ward I won't kill 'im.�
Conall was thankful Etain wasn't there to hear or see him. He knew too well that only the tone of his voice carried a lethal threat. In the next few seconds, he would know if Ricky was going to leave the information in this room, or if he was going to leave bits and pieces.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:40:55
When her brother demanded she go up front, way up front even, her face went cold. It was likely even a little colour drained from her already pale skin. Gone was the previous flirtatious smile, her face was passive in its emotional give-aways. Her eyes however, they glittered with an element of fear. It wasn't clear however if the concern was directed towards her brother, or for Ricky.
She brushed past Conall's hulking figure in the doorway and walked quickly towards the front of the lobby without looking back. Once she was there, back in front of the pimply faced kid at the counter, she turned her back on him and faced the holo-display pieces as if she was studying more of the shop's work.
She called silently to the water, to the earth, to the air and to the element of life itself. She may have left her brother willingly, but she wasn't about to leave him alone. Focusing her concentration she called on the winds for a specific ethereal voice to reply. Her wait felt like an eternity and in the back of her mind she could feel the kid at the counter's eyes drilling a hole in her back as he watched her carefully.
Monday 8/15/70 15:40:55
When her brother demanded she go up front, way up front even, her face went cold. It was likely even a little colour drained from her already pale skin. Gone was the previous flirtatious smile, her face was passive in its emotional give-aways. Her eyes however, they glittered with an element of fear. It wasn't clear however if the concern was directed towards her brother, or for Ricky.
She brushed past Conall's hulking figure in the doorway and walked quickly towards the front of the lobby without looking back. Once she was there, back in front of the pimply faced kid at the counter, she turned her back on him and faced the holo-display pieces as if she was studying more of the shop's work.
She called silently to the water, to the earth, to the air and to the element of life itself. She may have left her brother willingly, but she wasn't about to leave him alone. Focusing her concentration she called on the winds for a specific ethereal voice to reply. Her wait felt like an eternity and in the back of her mind she could feel the kid at the counter's eyes drilling a hole in her back as he watched her carefully.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:18
Ricky stood up, his full height towering over Conall. Easily twice the elf's mass, he looked fat, but Conall's practiced eye knew that the powerlifter was stronger by half than any cosmetically pumped bodybuilder - and numerous plaques and photos showing his competitive victories throughout the Pacific Northwest in bench press and deadlift confirmed that assumption.
"You? Kill Evil Jones? Trust me, I don't think he's worried about it. And I know I'm not scared of you." His unexpectedly high voice made rendered his macho words slightly ridiculous. "But I do know what he'll do to anyone he hears is talking about him. Now get your skinny elf ass outta here, and take that lying cocktease of a tramp with you, before I break you in two."
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:18
Ricky stood up, his full height towering over Conall. Easily twice the elf's mass, he looked fat, but Conall's practiced eye knew that the powerlifter was stronger by half than any cosmetically pumped bodybuilder - and numerous plaques and photos showing his competitive victories throughout the Pacific Northwest in bench press and deadlift confirmed that assumption.
"You? Kill Evil Jones? Trust me, I don't think he's worried about it. And I know I'm not scared of you." His unexpectedly high voice made rendered his macho words slightly ridiculous. "But I do know what he'll do to anyone he hears is talking about him. Now get your skinny elf ass outta here, and take that lying cocktease of a tramp with you, before I break you in two."
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown SeattleMonday 8/15/70 15:41:26
Ricky had barely finished his sentence that Conall's fuse went off. In his usual bad mood, he might have played and toyed with him a little. He would have at least given him a slight chance, if not only to exercise his muscles a little. But the big tattoo artist had crossed the line... a big fat red line that was going to mean his ass. Well, maybe not literally. But Conall was sure it was going to be damn painful.
Pushing himself off the door to cross the very short distance that separated his fist from Ricky's body, the young shaman's face was devoid of all emotions. Just like back at Ground Zero, the elf felt no fear. To anxiety. Nothing at all. Even with his body fueled by anger, his mind was at ease. But contrary to last night's shedims, Ricky wasn't close to being brain dead... even if what tiny little brain he did have in his head probably wasn't any smarter than an eggplant. But being a live and breathing person meant that he would react a certain way. He was predictable.
Like he had been taught at the academy, Conall closed in the distance as fast as he could. Big opponents always had the natural edge of greater reach. But it also meant they had more mass to move, and needed more time to not only launch attacks, but simply to maneuver around. No matter how confident Ricky might have been, no matter how big he might have been, not matter how much he bench pressed, the very second he had taken Etain and Conall into this tiny room, he had given up his only advantage.
His massive fist, which would have probably knocked Conall's head clean off his shoulders, barely had the time to raise itself; the young elf was already on top of him. Both hands flat open, as if ready to push something, Conall struck Ricky dead center mass. By the sound of it, a few ribs broke, and odds were his sternum was definitely at least cracked. The giant human's feet lifted off the ground as he was launched backwards, flying through the air as if a semi truck had just struck him.
As he laid on the floor, gasping for air, black blood already streaming from his nose and mouth, all Ricky could do was look up at Conall, eyes wide with shock and awe. The young shaman towered over him for a few seconds, his two hands still glowing with the deadly hue of mana.
Bending down, he grabbed him by the collar and did his best to pull his face up to his (which turned out to be much more difficult than Conall had anticipated).
“Nigh, yer listen ter me rayle clear yer piece av shoite. That's me pullin' me punch. next wan ,� his rough hand grabbed the body builders groin's firmly “Takes yisser feckin balls aff, hoi?.�
He looked him straight in the eye, making sure he knew he was meaning real bussiness.
“Nigh, wha de feck isEJ!�
Ricky had barely finished his sentence that Conall's fuse went off. In his usual bad mood, he might have played and toyed with him a little. He would have at least given him a slight chance, if not only to exercise his muscles a little. But the big tattoo artist had crossed the line... a big fat red line that was going to mean his ass. Well, maybe not literally. But Conall was sure it was going to be damn painful.
Pushing himself off the door to cross the very short distance that separated his fist from Ricky's body, the young shaman's face was devoid of all emotions. Just like back at Ground Zero, the elf felt no fear. To anxiety. Nothing at all. Even with his body fueled by anger, his mind was at ease. But contrary to last night's shedims, Ricky wasn't close to being brain dead... even if what tiny little brain he did have in his head probably wasn't any smarter than an eggplant. But being a live and breathing person meant that he would react a certain way. He was predictable.
Like he had been taught at the academy, Conall closed in the distance as fast as he could. Big opponents always had the natural edge of greater reach. But it also meant they had more mass to move, and needed more time to not only launch attacks, but simply to maneuver around. No matter how confident Ricky might have been, no matter how big he might have been, not matter how much he bench pressed, the very second he had taken Etain and Conall into this tiny room, he had given up his only advantage.
His massive fist, which would have probably knocked Conall's head clean off his shoulders, barely had the time to raise itself; the young elf was already on top of him. Both hands flat open, as if ready to push something, Conall struck Ricky dead center mass. By the sound of it, a few ribs broke, and odds were his sternum was definitely at least cracked. The giant human's feet lifted off the ground as he was launched backwards, flying through the air as if a semi truck had just struck him.
As he laid on the floor, gasping for air, black blood already streaming from his nose and mouth, all Ricky could do was look up at Conall, eyes wide with shock and awe. The young shaman towered over him for a few seconds, his two hands still glowing with the deadly hue of mana.
Bending down, he grabbed him by the collar and did his best to pull his face up to his (which turned out to be much more difficult than Conall had anticipated).
“Nigh, yer listen ter me rayle clear yer piece av shoite. That's me pullin' me punch. next wan ,� his rough hand grabbed the body builders groin's firmly “Takes yisser feckin balls aff, hoi?.�
He looked him straight in the eye, making sure he knew he was meaning real bussiness.
“Nigh, wha de feck isEJ!�
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:27
Out in front, Etain's back was to the kid with the pimples. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull some sort of weapon out from behind the counter at the sound of the crash.
A faint smile crossed her lips, but she didn't even bother turning around.
"Ricky, you okay?" called the boy. He made his way quickly back towards the office, but stopped in his tracks as something - something bristling with claws and teeth - appeared straight out of the ether, interposing itself between the clerk and the door.
"NOOOOO!" the boy cried as he dropped into a ball and covered his head in his hands.
Meanwhile, inside the office, tears were streaming down Ricky's face as Conall manhandled him by the collar. "Oh my G...<ahuk> I just do his ink, you know. Oh please don't...I'm sorry, maaaan. He's a bad guy. A pro, they say. He only comes in for ink, man. C'mon. Please." Then despair turned to hope as he remembered something. "They hang out farther down by the docks, man, you know. Always drinking in cheap sailors' dives. Dirty Dick's, Humpty's Dump, places like that, man. That's the word, and I seen 'em there myself once."
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:27
Out in front, Etain's back was to the kid with the pimples. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull some sort of weapon out from behind the counter at the sound of the crash.
A faint smile crossed her lips, but she didn't even bother turning around.
"Ricky, you okay?" called the boy. He made his way quickly back towards the office, but stopped in his tracks as something - something bristling with claws and teeth - appeared straight out of the ether, interposing itself between the clerk and the door.
"NOOOOO!" the boy cried as he dropped into a ball and covered his head in his hands.
Meanwhile, inside the office, tears were streaming down Ricky's face as Conall manhandled him by the collar. "Oh my G...<ahuk> I just do his ink, you know. Oh please don't...I'm sorry, maaaan. He's a bad guy. A pro, they say. He only comes in for ink, man. C'mon. Please." Then despair turned to hope as he remembered something. "They hang out farther down by the docks, man, you know. Always drinking in cheap sailors' dives. Dirty Dick's, Humpty's Dump, places like that, man. That's the word, and I seen 'em there myself once."
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:30
Conall took Ricky by the collar as best as he could, pulling himself closer to his face.
“Don't yer feckin lie ter me Ricky! Don't lie ter me! Yer nu wha yer man is! Yer better feckin mind an' queck before oi rip yisser bleedin noggin aff!" he starting almost yelling straight into his face.
It might have looked as if Conall was angry and ready, once again, to burst out and deal out pain to whomever wanted it... but the truth was he simply wanted to make sure Ricky was telling him the truth.
“It makes me really cheesed aff whaen people ain't bein' 'onest yer catch?� he added, on a now way too whimsical and friendly tone “An' trust me mucker, yer wouldn't loike me whaen oi'm cheesed aff.�
His hands tightened around his collar, just to make the point clear.
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:30
Conall took Ricky by the collar as best as he could, pulling himself closer to his face.
“Don't yer feckin lie ter me Ricky! Don't lie ter me! Yer nu wha yer man is! Yer better feckin mind an' queck before oi rip yisser bleedin noggin aff!" he starting almost yelling straight into his face.
It might have looked as if Conall was angry and ready, once again, to burst out and deal out pain to whomever wanted it... but the truth was he simply wanted to make sure Ricky was telling him the truth.
“It makes me really cheesed aff whaen people ain't bein' 'onest yer catch?� he added, on a now way too whimsical and friendly tone “An' trust me mucker, yer wouldn't loike me whaen oi'm cheesed aff.�
His hands tightened around his collar, just to make the point clear.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:40
Terror shone forth anew on Ricky's round features. "I...swear...I...<ahuk>...do...not...KNOW! Oh please, man, I am just his ink guy. I didn't do anything to you, you know? Please, I'm sorry I lied. I'm sooo sorry. I told you where he hangs, man, you know? Please."
And so it went. On and on.
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:40
Terror shone forth anew on Ricky's round features. "I...swear...I...<ahuk>...do...not...KNOW! Oh please, man, I am just his ink guy. I didn't do anything to you, you know? Please, I'm sorry I lied. I'm sooo sorry. I told you where he hangs, man, you know? Please."
And so it went. On and on.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:40
Conall stood over Ricky for a few more seconds, staring straight into his eyes. He held him, head only a few inches off the floor, mustering all the strength he could.
Damn that pig is heavy...
“Yer better be roi square wi' me Ricky. If oi don't fend yisser buddy, oi'm comin' lookin' for yer again. If yer warn yisser buddy, oi'm comin' for yer. An' trust me, if yer make yerself murder ter fend, whaen oi chucker fend yer, an' oi 'ill, it'll be twice as painful .�
Unceremoniously, Conall released Ricky's sweaty and bloody collar, the big man's head hitting the floor with a heavy thud. A look of disgust on his features, the young elf, wiped his hands on the body builder's shirt and stood back up.
As he exited the small cramped and now rather nicely in shamble office, the wolf shaman didn't even bother to close the door behind him. What did puzzle him tho, was how the kid who worked the counter out front found himself crumpled on the floor in a little ball, shaking like a lost baby.
“Hum.� was all Conall said, cocking an eyebrow as he stepped over him.
Monday 8/15/70 15:41:40
Conall stood over Ricky for a few more seconds, staring straight into his eyes. He held him, head only a few inches off the floor, mustering all the strength he could.
Damn that pig is heavy...
“Yer better be roi square wi' me Ricky. If oi don't fend yisser buddy, oi'm comin' lookin' for yer again. If yer warn yisser buddy, oi'm comin' for yer. An' trust me, if yer make yerself murder ter fend, whaen oi chucker fend yer, an' oi 'ill, it'll be twice as painful .�
Unceremoniously, Conall released Ricky's sweaty and bloody collar, the big man's head hitting the floor with a heavy thud. A look of disgust on his features, the young elf, wiped his hands on the body builder's shirt and stood back up.
As he exited the small cramped and now rather nicely in shamble office, the wolf shaman didn't even bother to close the door behind him. What did puzzle him tho, was how the kid who worked the counter out front found himself crumpled on the floor in a little ball, shaking like a lost baby.
“Hum.� was all Conall said, cocking an eyebrow as he stepped over him.
Cab west-bound on Perimeter Road, heading for the Barrio, near Sea-Tac International Airport, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Monday 08/15/70 19:33:20
Krait – meeting Marry Jane
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
Krait: "Ok, guys, have to go, you probably have some stuff left to do, too. See you!"
The elf said good bye to the crew and left the shop. After a short cab-ride, he changed the taxi for the reminder of the trip heading for the Sanctuary of St. Ignatius. Though still weary about tails, the paranoid ex-lawyer used part of the time, to set up the new comlink for use by Ayrin. He could understand the girl´s reluctance to surrender her expensive personal comlink, but on the other hand, the Airware plus OS could net at least 600
for the teams finances. After copying the communication-protokolls and sex-trade data-soft onto it, he formulated a text-massege for the elven sorceress and put the com into the plastic-bag inside his massenger-bag, which also held the package for Belinda - the same he had packed for her last night, except that he had modified the note. As he closed in on the neigborhood, the elf prepaired himself for the short walk to the church.
Monday 08/15/70 19:33:20
Krait – meeting Marry Jane
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
Krait: "Ok, guys, have to go, you probably have some stuff left to do, too. See you!"
The elf said good bye to the crew and left the shop. After a short cab-ride, he changed the taxi for the reminder of the trip heading for the Sanctuary of St. Ignatius. Though still weary about tails, the paranoid ex-lawyer used part of the time, to set up the new comlink for use by Ayrin. He could understand the girl´s reluctance to surrender her expensive personal comlink, but on the other hand, the Airware plus OS could net at least 600
for the teams finances. After copying the communication-protokolls and sex-trade data-soft onto it, he formulated a text-massege for the elven sorceress and put the com into the plastic-bag inside his massenger-bag, which also held the package for Belinda - the same he had packed for her last night, except that he had modified the note. As he closed in on the neigborhood, the elf prepaired himself for the short walk to the church.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:45:00
St. Pierre arrived right on time, which seemed odd to Carla; he seemed like the kind of guy who set his own appointments and was used to having people waiting on him. She didn't expect him to be this early, so now Carla had 15 minutes to kill - at least - until Krait showed up.
After greeting him and thanking him for showing up, Carla told St. Pierre a bit of what to expect.
"I have a friend who is very good at gathering information," she started. "He should be here in a few minutes with some news regarding Esmeralda's whereabouts - or those of her kidnappers, at least. If it turns out that he's already located her, then we'll have to start working on a plan to retrieve her as soon as possible, so I'd like you to listen and see how you can help."
"And while I certainly appreciate as much help from Los Locos as you have to offer, I would appreciate it if you could keep this project of ours restricted to as few people as possible. More people means greaters chances of leaks, you know, and I'd hate for our rescue mission to be spoiled that way."
"You're still interesting in staying, yes?"
Monday 08/15/70 19:45:00
St. Pierre arrived right on time, which seemed odd to Carla; he seemed like the kind of guy who set his own appointments and was used to having people waiting on him. She didn't expect him to be this early, so now Carla had 15 minutes to kill - at least - until Krait showed up.
After greeting him and thanking him for showing up, Carla told St. Pierre a bit of what to expect.
"I have a friend who is very good at gathering information," she started. "He should be here in a few minutes with some news regarding Esmeralda's whereabouts - or those of her kidnappers, at least. If it turns out that he's already located her, then we'll have to start working on a plan to retrieve her as soon as possible, so I'd like you to listen and see how you can help."
"And while I certainly appreciate as much help from Los Locos as you have to offer, I would appreciate it if you could keep this project of ours restricted to as few people as possible. More people means greaters chances of leaks, you know, and I'd hate for our rescue mission to be spoiled that way."
"You're still interesting in staying, yes?"
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:45:10
"Yes, to help Sister Esmeralda, we will stay. Outside are two of my best men, Bandito and The Padre. You may know them as Antonio and Paco, but they will not appreciate anyone but their mothers calling them that. If you wish, I will keep what you say between us three."
Carla knew the two he was talking about. The Bandito always wore bandoliers of some sort of ammunition, but they were mostly empty, and she had never seen him carry a gun. She has treated his girlfriend for bruises and broken bones many times. Paco, The Padre, could have been no older than thirteen. She had not even known he was a member of Los Locos - he served as an altarboy for the priests.
"So," the troll continued, "Is there anything you want to tell me before your information man gets here, or shall we simply wait." His genteel French accent stood in sharp contrast to the gutter Spanish she heard all around her every day.
Monday 08/15/70 19:45:10
"Yes, to help Sister Esmeralda, we will stay. Outside are two of my best men, Bandito and The Padre. You may know them as Antonio and Paco, but they will not appreciate anyone but their mothers calling them that. If you wish, I will keep what you say between us three."
Carla knew the two he was talking about. The Bandito always wore bandoliers of some sort of ammunition, but they were mostly empty, and she had never seen him carry a gun. She has treated his girlfriend for bruises and broken bones many times. Paco, The Padre, could have been no older than thirteen. She had not even known he was a member of Los Locos - he served as an altarboy for the priests.
"So," the troll continued, "Is there anything you want to tell me before your information man gets here, or shall we simply wait." His genteel French accent stood in sharp contrast to the gutter Spanish she heard all around her every day.
Lucky Devil Tattoo Parlor, 2556 Alaska Way, Downtown Seattle
Monday 8/15/70 15:42:30
Stepping over the boy, Conall noticed a Defiance Super Shock taser lying beside him. I was a reliable weapon - could stop a troll but didn't carry as much legal liability, and very little chance of his sister hurting herself with it. He picked it up, and they walked out handed it to her.
Mounting the bike behind her brother, Etain could feel the astral form of her spiritual minion following in her wake. Calling up his map, her brother cursed at the barbaric lack of detail down in the commercial dock districts. Still, he got enough of an idea of where Dirty Dick's was that he reckoned he could find it.
The rice rocket roared into the gloomy Seattle afternoon.
Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits, Seattle docks
Monday 8/15/70 16:03:00
The bar hadn't been far, but it had taken a lot longer than it should have to find. There were very few street signs down here, AR or otherwise. And half the time just as they thought they'd found a through street, they had turned a corner to find a huge semi blocking their passage. Everywhere the bike was forced to weave around forklifts and between stacks of cargo. Workmen were everywhere, and not an elf did he see. Indeed, fully half the men working down here were orks or trolls, mostly handling beast of burden jobs, while the sophisticated cranes and personal cargolifters were operated by humans or halfers. It was enough to completely rule out asking anyone for directions.
Finally arriving, the looks of the place were not promising. Or, considering that they were tracking nun-kidnappers, maybe this was just the place they were looking for. Built of raw planks of old wood, and clinging precariously to the edge of a disused dock, the ramshackle structure was devoid of external AROs, a neon sign proclaiming its name flickered at half power.
What the elves assumed must be a homeless alcoholic leaned against the wall by the front door, a shopping cart full of rags and garbage by his side. Spilling from within were the low-brow sounds of American country-western music.
Opening the door, Conall had to call upon all his powers of self-discipline not to visibly recoil at the smell of beer-vomit and piss. Tentatively entering, the twins were just in time to witness, through clouds of cigarette smoke, an ork break a chair over the head of a dwarf, followed by a vicious series of kicks.
To their right was a long bar covered with water-circles. A human waitress with a short skirt and bruised, varicose-veined legs collected empy shot glasses from among the hard-drinking humans and orks in knit caps and flannel shirts lined up there.
A number of fake-wood tables were scattered around the room, with a mismatched collection of plastic and wooden chairs that looked as though they'd been scavenged from a landfill. The place was fairly crowded, over thirty patrons, mostly male. Humans and orks predominated, though there were a couple of trolls around as well.
Monday 8/15/70 15:42:30
Stepping over the boy, Conall noticed a Defiance Super Shock taser lying beside him. I was a reliable weapon - could stop a troll but didn't carry as much legal liability, and very little chance of his sister hurting herself with it. He picked it up, and they walked out handed it to her.
Mounting the bike behind her brother, Etain could feel the astral form of her spiritual minion following in her wake. Calling up his map, her brother cursed at the barbaric lack of detail down in the commercial dock districts. Still, he got enough of an idea of where Dirty Dick's was that he reckoned he could find it.
The rice rocket roared into the gloomy Seattle afternoon.
Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits, Seattle docks
Monday 8/15/70 16:03:00
The bar hadn't been far, but it had taken a lot longer than it should have to find. There were very few street signs down here, AR or otherwise. And half the time just as they thought they'd found a through street, they had turned a corner to find a huge semi blocking their passage. Everywhere the bike was forced to weave around forklifts and between stacks of cargo. Workmen were everywhere, and not an elf did he see. Indeed, fully half the men working down here were orks or trolls, mostly handling beast of burden jobs, while the sophisticated cranes and personal cargolifters were operated by humans or halfers. It was enough to completely rule out asking anyone for directions.
Finally arriving, the looks of the place were not promising. Or, considering that they were tracking nun-kidnappers, maybe this was just the place they were looking for. Built of raw planks of old wood, and clinging precariously to the edge of a disused dock, the ramshackle structure was devoid of external AROs, a neon sign proclaiming its name flickered at half power.
What the elves assumed must be a homeless alcoholic leaned against the wall by the front door, a shopping cart full of rags and garbage by his side. Spilling from within were the low-brow sounds of American country-western music.
Opening the door, Conall had to call upon all his powers of self-discipline not to visibly recoil at the smell of beer-vomit and piss. Tentatively entering, the twins were just in time to witness, through clouds of cigarette smoke, an ork break a chair over the head of a dwarf, followed by a vicious series of kicks.
To their right was a long bar covered with water-circles. A human waitress with a short skirt and bruised, varicose-veined legs collected empy shot glasses from among the hard-drinking humans and orks in knit caps and flannel shirts lined up there.
A number of fake-wood tables were scattered around the room, with a mismatched collection of plastic and wooden chairs that looked as though they'd been scavenged from a landfill. The place was fairly crowded, over thirty patrons, mostly male. Humans and orks predominated, though there were a couple of trolls around as well.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:46:00
"Well," Carla started tentatively, "If it's not too much to ask...I'm curious how exactly you found out that I went to Ground Zero."
Carla certainly hadn't seen anyone watching her during her departure and entry from the barrio. If St. Pierre had people watching her that she wasn't aware of, then there was no telling who else might be watching.
Monday 08/15/70 19:46:00
"Well," Carla started tentatively, "If it's not too much to ask...I'm curious how exactly you found out that I went to Ground Zero."
Carla certainly hadn't seen anyone watching her during her departure and entry from the barrio. If St. Pierre had people watching her that she wasn't aware of, then there was no telling who else might be watching.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:47:00
The troll fighter shrugged. "I didn't. But you said you had stayed home all night, and I knew that was not true. If you want to lie, make sure you do not touch on any information that is available to the other party. No one comes or goes from this neighborhood without Los Locos' knowledge. For instance, the elf you call the "investigator" is walking towards this church right now."
Monday 08/15/70 19:47:00
The troll fighter shrugged. "I didn't. But you said you had stayed home all night, and I knew that was not true. If you want to lie, make sure you do not touch on any information that is available to the other party. No one comes or goes from this neighborhood without Los Locos' knowledge. For instance, the elf you call the "investigator" is walking towards this church right now."
Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits, Seattle docks
Monday 8/15/70 16:03:34
Conall had done his best to shield his sister from the filth and depravity that made up "Dirty Dick's" but between the smell and the sounds he could do little to keep her from trying to peer around him as if she was watching the scene of an accident, she couldn't bring herself to look away.
She swallowed hard a few times as the smell hit her, trying desperately to keep down the very limited contents of her stomach. The smoke-filled bar and the depravity that made up the customers triggered a memory inside her, bringing her back to the night of Lockdown, just a few nights ago.
That triggered the urge starting to tug at the back corners of her mind. She could vividly remember in crystal clear detail that there was Bliss tucked in the front pocket of the pair of jeans she had on yesterday. The small clear packet with the glittering white powder nestled inside. She could feel herself salivating at the thought of the relief from this hellhole it would bring.
She tried to refocus her attention as she looked past her brother and into the bar itself. Nudging him slightly she urged him to move into the bar and out of the doorway. They were drawing attention to themselves just being the only Elves in the joint, they didn't need to look retarded or nervous on entering on top of it. She pushed past him to his right just slightly making a move towards the bar as her natural low-light vision kicked in amidst the haze and general lack of lighting most dives had. She paused to take a good look around, hoping to spot a heavily tattooed arm that belonged to the illustrious EJ. As her eyes moved from body to body she couldn't help herself from wondering if any or all of them were holding an extra hit of Bliss or some other drug that helped them get through their days.
Cursing herself softly in Sperethiel, she slid onto a stool before an only slightly-clean spot at the bar and waited for her brother to join her.
Monday 8/15/70 16:03:34
Conall had done his best to shield his sister from the filth and depravity that made up "Dirty Dick's" but between the smell and the sounds he could do little to keep her from trying to peer around him as if she was watching the scene of an accident, she couldn't bring herself to look away.
She swallowed hard a few times as the smell hit her, trying desperately to keep down the very limited contents of her stomach. The smoke-filled bar and the depravity that made up the customers triggered a memory inside her, bringing her back to the night of Lockdown, just a few nights ago.
That triggered the urge starting to tug at the back corners of her mind. She could vividly remember in crystal clear detail that there was Bliss tucked in the front pocket of the pair of jeans she had on yesterday. The small clear packet with the glittering white powder nestled inside. She could feel herself salivating at the thought of the relief from this hellhole it would bring.
She tried to refocus her attention as she looked past her brother and into the bar itself. Nudging him slightly she urged him to move into the bar and out of the doorway. They were drawing attention to themselves just being the only Elves in the joint, they didn't need to look retarded or nervous on entering on top of it. She pushed past him to his right just slightly making a move towards the bar as her natural low-light vision kicked in amidst the haze and general lack of lighting most dives had. She paused to take a good look around, hoping to spot a heavily tattooed arm that belonged to the illustrious EJ. As her eyes moved from body to body she couldn't help herself from wondering if any or all of them were holding an extra hit of Bliss or some other drug that helped them get through their days.
Cursing herself softly in Sperethiel, she slid onto a stool before an only slightly-clean spot at the bar and waited for her brother to join her.
Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits, Seattle docks
Monday 8/15/70 16:03:39
Barely had he pushed the door open, his hand wrapped in his sleeve to avoid touching anything, that Conall regretted ever agreeing to help Carla. The truck stop by the airport. Ground Zero. The tattoo parlor. Now this. Luckily for him, breakfast was very far in his system, and in their search, they had skipped lunch. It meant that throwing up wasn't an alternative. He nevertheless covered his mouth instinctively as if it would ever be enough to shield him from the stench. Odds were they get out of their with some sort of disease. They were just bound to.
As Etain pushed past him, Conall's shoulder bumped agaisn't hers as he turned around, already good to head outside for some fresh air. But her move caught him off guard. So often used to lead and take charge, he was somewhat caught flatfooted when she passed him, making her way between the filth and filthiness to find herself a seat.
The young shaman simply stood there for a few seconds, staring at his sister, his jaw slack and a bewildered look on his face. Somewhere, someone dragged the bottom of their throat and spat something out. That was more than enough to shake Conall out of his torpor and to send him, with a rather decisive pace, across the room and into the seat next to his twin.
Elbows on his knees, and still avoiding contact with as much of the place as he could, Conall leaned in slightly forward, talking low in Sperethiel to his sibling.
“I don't know about you, but I'm not seeing our pal anywhere...� he said, giving the room a quick glance.
With a low grunt, Conall's forehead wrinkled itself. No matter how easy getting EJ's name might have been, finding him was going to be a different task. He had no wish to simply sit there and wait for the guy to "maybe" show up. But then again, if they just gave both places a quick peek... they might still not find him.
"Maybe I should get you home" he started in the elven tongue, avoiding to look straight at his sister "I can stake out the place alone fine..."
Monday 8/15/70 16:03:39
Barely had he pushed the door open, his hand wrapped in his sleeve to avoid touching anything, that Conall regretted ever agreeing to help Carla. The truck stop by the airport. Ground Zero. The tattoo parlor. Now this. Luckily for him, breakfast was very far in his system, and in their search, they had skipped lunch. It meant that throwing up wasn't an alternative. He nevertheless covered his mouth instinctively as if it would ever be enough to shield him from the stench. Odds were they get out of their with some sort of disease. They were just bound to.
As Etain pushed past him, Conall's shoulder bumped agaisn't hers as he turned around, already good to head outside for some fresh air. But her move caught him off guard. So often used to lead and take charge, he was somewhat caught flatfooted when she passed him, making her way between the filth and filthiness to find herself a seat.
The young shaman simply stood there for a few seconds, staring at his sister, his jaw slack and a bewildered look on his face. Somewhere, someone dragged the bottom of their throat and spat something out. That was more than enough to shake Conall out of his torpor and to send him, with a rather decisive pace, across the room and into the seat next to his twin.
Elbows on his knees, and still avoiding contact with as much of the place as he could, Conall leaned in slightly forward, talking low in Sperethiel to his sibling.
“I don't know about you, but I'm not seeing our pal anywhere...� he said, giving the room a quick glance.
With a low grunt, Conall's forehead wrinkled itself. No matter how easy getting EJ's name might have been, finding him was going to be a different task. He had no wish to simply sit there and wait for the guy to "maybe" show up. But then again, if they just gave both places a quick peek... they might still not find him.
"Maybe I should get you home" he started in the elven tongue, avoiding to look straight at his sister "I can stake out the place alone fine..."
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius, the Barrio near Sea-Tac International Airport, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Monday 08/15/70 19:47:44
Krait – meeting Marry Jane
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
As the cab rolled down the last few meters to the barrio´s outer edge, John was twisting around a simple, nondescript throw-away pen between his gloved fingers, like he often did while reading or speaking on the fone. It was an easy task for him, to do quiet impressing feats of prestidigitation -at least for an amateut- even while he was concentrating on something else and after frequent training he actually managed a flawless trio of thumb-arounds for the first time. Since he had not planed to go to the Sanctuary when he had left for Redmond, he had left his 'fierce clever hat', as Paddy had called it, at home. home... the first thing that came to his mind, when he thought of home, still was castle Harlech, his cousine´s domaine in Wales. His seattle safe-house still fealt like just another dive to hide in, while he was laying low, only a bit more comfortable then the last ones.
When the car came to a stop, the elf left the passanger cabine and entered Los Locos´ turf by foot, well aware that more then one pair of eyes where resting on him, as he made his way to the church. Outside of the sanctuary, he saw two men or more precisely, a man and a boy.
Monday 08/15/70 19:47:44
Krait – meeting Marry Jane
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)
As the cab rolled down the last few meters to the barrio´s outer edge, John was twisting around a simple, nondescript throw-away pen between his gloved fingers, like he often did while reading or speaking on the fone. It was an easy task for him, to do quiet impressing feats of prestidigitation -at least for an amateut- even while he was concentrating on something else and after frequent training he actually managed a flawless trio of thumb-arounds for the first time. Since he had not planed to go to the Sanctuary when he had left for Redmond, he had left his 'fierce clever hat', as Paddy had called it, at home. home... the first thing that came to his mind, when he thought of home, still was castle Harlech, his cousine´s domaine in Wales. His seattle safe-house still fealt like just another dive to hide in, while he was laying low, only a bit more comfortable then the last ones.
When the car came to a stop, the elf left the passanger cabine and entered Los Locos´ turf by foot, well aware that more then one pair of eyes where resting on him, as he made his way to the church. Outside of the sanctuary, he saw two men or more precisely, a man and a boy.
Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits, Seattle docks
Monday 8/15/70 16:04:31
"And just what would you have me do back there dear brother?" She continued in Sperethiel without even thinking about it as her eyes tried to pry into the darker corners of the small bar.
There's always the Bliss waiting for you there...
She grimaced slightly and pushed away from the bar, the melodic language continuing from her lips, "Besides, if I leave you alone who will keep you from letting your temper get the best of you once you find our friend?"
She couldn't help but smile slightly, she knew she was in the right and yet she knew some level of violence would likely be necessary to obtain the information on the whereabouts of the missing Nun once they found EJ. All of it left a foul taste in her mouth far worse than the filth and grime that this dive bar contained.
"We can wait it out a little while, if our friend isn't here we can look for them in the other location. And if that doesn't work we start asking questions and loosening lips around here."
She turned to look directly at her brother, silently compelling him to look at her and try to say no.
Monday 8/15/70 16:04:31
"And just what would you have me do back there dear brother?" She continued in Sperethiel without even thinking about it as her eyes tried to pry into the darker corners of the small bar.
There's always the Bliss waiting for you there...
She grimaced slightly and pushed away from the bar, the melodic language continuing from her lips, "Besides, if I leave you alone who will keep you from letting your temper get the best of you once you find our friend?"
She couldn't help but smile slightly, she knew she was in the right and yet she knew some level of violence would likely be necessary to obtain the information on the whereabouts of the missing Nun once they found EJ. All of it left a foul taste in her mouth far worse than the filth and grime that this dive bar contained.
"We can wait it out a little while, if our friend isn't here we can look for them in the other location. And if that doesn't work we start asking questions and loosening lips around here."
She turned to look directly at her brother, silently compelling him to look at her and try to say no.
Sanctuary of St. Ignatius
Monday 08/15/70 19:47:00
"So, given your keen surveillance of the neighborhood," Carla asked the troll, "You haven't spotted any other suspicious-looking strangers coming around here, have you?"
She was primarily wondering about cops or Knight Errant investigators of any sort, though she assumed St. Pierre would think she was talking about Esmeralda's captors.
Monday 08/15/70 19:47:00
"So, given your keen surveillance of the neighborhood," Carla asked the troll, "You haven't spotted any other suspicious-looking strangers coming around here, have you?"
She was primarily wondering about cops or Knight Errant investigators of any sort, though she assumed St. Pierre would think she was talking about Esmeralda's captors.
Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits, Seattle docks
Monday 8/15/70 16:04:35
The twins' conversation was interrupted by a prosthetic hook stabbing its point into the surface of the bar in front of them. The bartender that owned it wrenched it out of the wood and then used his good hand and a rotting rag to shoo away some flies.
"Can the keeb talk. In my place, yer drinkin' or yer leavin'. Now what'll it be?"
Monday 8/15/70 16:04:35
The twins' conversation was interrupted by a prosthetic hook stabbing its point into the surface of the bar in front of them. The bartender that owned it wrenched it out of the wood and then used his good hand and a rotting rag to shoo away some flies.
"Can the keeb talk. In my place, yer drinkin' or yer leavin'. Now what'll it be?"
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