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TinkerGnome
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Wednesday, January 22, 2070

As far as a winter went, the one of 2070 hadn’t been bad. It was late January and only now was a cold front expected to move in. The weather forecasts were as vague as always, but they all seemed to point to a cold and wet weekend.

In Seattle that was a big deal. The Seahawks were slated to play the last playoff match against the Washington Chiefs on Sunday the 26th. The winner of that match would go on to the Superbowl against the Freedom League champion, and it was one of the few times in living memory when the whole city was united in something hopeful.

As the afternoon wore on, all across the greater Seattle area commlinks buzzed with messages and phone calls.

- BBO -

BBO’s commlink buzzed with a familiar comcode. When he answered, he heard the familiar accent of his friend Popov. “Friend, I have something that may interest you. An acquaintance of mine is holding a get-together downtown. If you are interested, there is free beer involved.”

When he got an affirmative response, he continued. “Good. Be at The Sports Bar tonight at nine. He said to go to the Urban Brawl room, the table under the Seattle Screamers poster.”

- Electric Eddy -

Eddy’s comm also rang. It was Rhino, his old gang buddy. “Oi, Chummer. Gotta line on somethin’ interestin’. If you ain’t busy, head down to THE Sports Bar tonight ‘bout nine. Check out the Brawl room, by the Screamer’s poster.”

- Fade -

Fade got a simple matrix notification of a message for her in a blind drop mail system that she vaguely recognized. She checked it and found a simple message that ended in Chok’s signature. “If you’re still looking for something for the rent, be at THE Sports Bar at 2100 tonight. UB room under the Screamer’s poster.”

- Freebird -

Freebird received a message in exactly the same fashion as Fade.

- The Priest -

The Priest saw a simple icon appear in his AR that indicated a message had been dropped to his commcode. It was simple and direct. “THE Sports Bar, 2100. UB, Screamers.” The style of the message was distinctly that of Freezer

- Razorblade -

Razorblade also found herself on the receiving end of a commcall from none other than her old friend Joe Corsolloni. In his thick accent, asked, “If you are interested in making the association of certain friends of mine for a matter which involves nuyen being passed in large amounts into your possession, then I might suggest you find yourself at THE Sports Bar downtown tonight around nine.”
HeySparky
Wednesday, January 22, 2070
Out and about on the Seattle streets

A week ago Fade had become nocturnal. Put out of her home at the depth of winter, she had quickly decided it was better to sleep through warmer daytime hours and keep moving at night. It was hard to find a safe, uncontested place to squat and sleep. Though, as a heavily cybered troll, she found it easier to hang on to a spot once she'd found one. Chok's message had arrived at 6pm as she was leaving the downtown public library.

The Library... She had become a member over the last winter when her heating had been turned off. The library was warm and you were expected to sit for long hours. The books were ridiculous of course. Archaic. But the smell of them was attractive and the staff happy for any sort of visitor. Especially a member.

2100, THE Sports Bar. Fade knew where that was. She'd been there a time or two to place bets for Chok or his clients. She hadn't ever been hassled by the goons at the door, but then, she hadn't ever carried a piece in the door.

Fade huddled into her jacket as she walked the last several blocks to THE Sports Bar. Her jaws cracked in a massive yawn showing off a fearsome array of tusks that gleamed against the dark, blue-black skin of her face. Her breath flew away in a plume of vapor and she wished that she'd had more notice for the meeting. As it was, she had barely had time to wait in line for a shower at the gym - her membership there was paid through the end of the month, after that she'd have to figure out a new place to clean up - and make it to the U-Lock-It nearest the bar to store her Remingtons. It was against U-Lock-It policy to store firearms, but the staff were notoriously cheaply bought. Which was good and bad. Fade had paid the kid at the counter off and promised him that he would be very sad indeed if anything happened to her weapons while she was away.

Along the gray sidewalk, she watched the press of people crowding into cabs and onto buses and wished that she had had enough money left after getting the locker to grab a bus ride. Her jacket was warm, but it wasn't especially waterproof, and she was starting to feel the dampness seep through where melt had collected. It was cold and getting colder. She'd be glad to be inside soon.

She looked down the street, peering over most heads and picked out her destination amidst the neon ahead. Visual magnification brought the sign of the bar leaping toward her with a dizzying wrench. The distance counter ticked down with each meter-long stride.

***
Same night, just before 2100
THE Sports Bar, Seattle

Fade arrived about 8 minutes early and, after a thorough frisking by the bouncers that turned up her extendable baton, she was nodded through the door and she made her way downstairs. She watched people drinking and carousing with envious eyes. Her mouth felt dry. In that way only a cold beer could quench despite the lingering chill in her bones. She swallowed and ordered a coffee and a water and watched a highlight reel airing on the monitor nearest her.
Silo
Freebird set the link down and traded it for a smoke from his pack. Work at last.

Standing he made his way over to the closet and picked out a fresher tee shirt. He moved the long coat aside and surveyed the guns mounted on the wall, at last taking his Sting and slipping it in his jacket pocket.

He took a couple of more long drags off his smoke and stared at the wall clock. Noodles. Yeah, real noodles would be a treat.

Tossing on the jacket and grabbing his link on the way out, Freebird made straight for the rail station. He figured he had time to get some real home cooking and still have time to arrive a bit early.

***

THE Sports Bar didn't look like the normal place Freebird was accustomed to meeting Chok at, but hey the guy seemed a bit like the type. But Chok ain't here Chummer, he said to himself smiling apprehensively.

He lit a smoke and surveyed the bar, the specials, and what was showing on the trids. This AR shit was whiz but it was a hassle all the same. With the smoke and all this augmented hoopla, he could barely make out the meat around him.

Oh well, he sighed and put in an order for a beer as he made his way to the closest bar. After a couple of swigs, Freebird makes his way to the UB room to see what there is to see.
gobogen
Wednesday, January 22, 2070, Dinner time
Fredo's apartment, Seattle

buzzzzzz... ... buzzzzzz... ... It was dinner time when I felt the slight buzzing in my pocket. I had went to one of Seattle's orphanage today to help out and get a free meal. People liked my presence - I could tell - and I was glad that I made a few of those kids happy by playing with them. Kids start off good when they're very young, they come into the world pure, just the way god has created them. Yet as years go on, intolerance, fear, sometimes pride, shape them into inahabitants of the shadows. They eventually become desperate beings, sad and miserable, that disappear in the sprawl - that become the sprawl. These kids are the nonames amongst the SINless, the rejected amongst the outsiders, the forgotten amongst the forgotten. I feel a lot of pity for them, but I don't let it show.

buzzzzzz... ... buzzzzzz... ... Tonight, god only knows what awaited me. I could still feel the buzzing in my pocket. The soymeat cooked just the way I like it was sitting right in front of me, warm and tender.

buzzzzzz... ... buzzzzzz... ... It was Freezer who just left a message for "The Priest" - that's how they call me in the biz'. He had found a job for me. It had been more than a month since I last heard from him and it was about time he called me. Tonight might be my chance to make some quick nuyens. It would be dirty work, but that's what I am meant to do. It is the path set forth me by the All-mighty.

Dinner was good. I programmed the kitchen appliances so that I'd get the same meal on the next night. It was a bit chill in the room so I also turned up the temperature just a bit. I hate to be cold when I feel the back slash headache that comes from asking a favor to God. Cause that's why they call me the Priest, it's cause God listens to me and grants my wishes. It's the power that was given to me when I was born.

I knew the last sunrays were gone from the night sky - not that I can afford a room with windows, but because my fake window's settings are at 'realistic'. Since angels have to go back to their celestial residence at sunset and sunrise, it was better to call for them right after one or the other. So I sent prayers towards my mentor, Gabriel - yes the Archangel Gabriel - to intervene for me and help me reach out for a holy being. God answered my request immediately and in the astral I could see St. Bartholomew appear to me, as radiant as ever. He would help me, he said. Bless the Lord.

With the backup of a saint, I had nothing to fear. I would eventually be able to call upon him at any time, while he stayed behind in prayer, waiting for my commands. Strangely enough though, I didn't feel any pain from calling God to my aid. So much for warming up the room, I guess.
------------------------------

Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 2045
THE Sports Bar, Seattle

I got there in advance, even though I knew the place well. It wasn't too far from home so I had walked there. It took me a while but I had saved the money of a taxi ride. I was frisked at the entrance and there was nothing to find; even if I'm Italian and wearing an armored jacket doesn't mean I have something to hide. Well once I was in I spotted the room of the meet and sat alone at a table, some distance away, with an energy drink I had picked up.

I switched my sight from the ligthning blue color of my drink and the large Screamers poster to the etherealness of the holy plane. I just wanted to find out if there were any 'practinioners' in sight and if there was a deamonic stench in the room, just a quick check. At 2100 sharp, I got up and walked towards the UB room, at the same time as a few others. I was still holding my energy drink in my left hand and it felt awkward, but it was too late for that.
Oracle
Wednesday, January 22, 2070
BBO's apartment, Tacoma, Seattle

Hmm...free beer...that sounds good... thought BBO, feeling around for his last can of Erdinger-SoyBrew™. He found the german beer-substitute between a pair of old socks, smelling like a dead cat, and leftover pizza from the last evening. Regarding his aching head BBO decided that beer and cold pizza were possibly not the best choice for dinner. At least not in that combination. The big Ork went to the bathroom, dumped the pizza into the toilet and emptied the extra-large can of SoyBeer while searching for his toothbrush. After finishing his morning toilet (he always thought that the difference between day and night or morning and evening was mostly a question of personal definition) and dressing up, BBO opened is weapons locker next to his bed and chose his new Yamaha Pulsar with some extra darts and a concealable holster as the weapon of the day for his trip Downtown.

After a short discussion with Mrs. O'Bannion, BBO's landlord, about loud Troll Trash Metal in the early hours of what she defined as "morning", he left the filthy appartment complex that he was forced to call "home" at the moment. The huge Street Samurai headed directly to the bus stop.

***

Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 2050
THE Sports Bar, Seattle

The bouncers of THE Sports Bar seemed to be a bit nervous about huge Orks carrying around defensive, less-lethal weaponry. It took a short discussion and a small bribe to convince them that he was no threat. Nevertheless BBO was not allowed to take his Taser with him into the Bar. Feeling a bit naked without any kind of weapon he went directly into the UB room, where he ordered a beer at the bar. The collection of Urban Brawl memorabilia, which happened to be BBO's favourite sport, was really impressive.

Memories carried him away...the Frankfurt Dominators had just won the 2064 AGS-Bowl. It was unbelievable! His son, Michael, looked so happy. It was the first Urban Brawl match BBO allowed his son to watch with him, of course without the knowledge of Steffi, his wife...he was distracted for only a second, when IT happened...

The alarm that BBO had programmed into his commlink returned his focus to reality. Nine o'clock. Let's see, who that Johnson is and what he got for me...
nick012000
Wednesday, January 22, 2070
Razorblade's apartment, Downtown Seattle

Looking at the message, Razorblade smiles.
Money's always good. Lots of money's better, though.

So, she happily saunters over to the cabinets, pours herself a few shots of whiskey, knocks them back, then collapses onto the couch to zone out for a few hours, with the aid of some BTL programs she's got on her commlink, after setting a timer to stop the BTLs at 7:30.

When that's done, she'll go and get dressed into some appropriate clothes, and stop by a clothing store to pick up a lined coat.

Wednesday, January 22, 2070
THE Sports Bar, Downtown Seattle
She'll catch the subway to the closest stop, and then walk the rest of the way.

After sending the bouncer the licenses for her pistol (and the concealed carry permit), she'll slip into the bar, looking over their menu over AR and buying one of their strongest drinks.

She'll then mosey on over to the Urban Brawl area, and sit down at the table she reckons is the most likely to be a shadow meet.
Silo
Freebird makes his way in to the Urban Brawl room and quickly takes in the surroundings, paying mind to anyone at the table under the Screamer's poster and anyone overtly paying attention to that table. After a brief pause to soak it in, and to soak in another swig of beer, he moves to the table in question taking the best seat available for watching the door, but not directly next to the person already at the table.

Freebird will give a slight bow of his head and pull a smoke from his pack. Almost as an afterthought, he holds the pack out in silent offering.
Oracle
BBO took one of the offered smokes from Freebird. He showed a big grin. "Thanks pal." he rumbled in a booming voice, with some small accent. "Seems like we got the same date..." The Ork lit the smoke...
HeySparky
Fade sees Chok's friend. That guy... Freebird. And some other tusker. She gets up from her stool and moves over to the table under the Screamers' poster. She squints up at it, instructing her commlink to suppress the schedules and stats that come with looking at anything here.

She smiles crookedly at the ork, "Bird," is all she says as she sits down and takes one of the proffered cigarettes with a nod. All she does in the way of recognition of the other ork is tilt her head.

She is damp and looks very tired. Seems like it's been a long day for her. She takes a massive drag on the cigarette and leans back into the chair. It creaks in protest. Her eyebrows raise as she spots the waitress across the bar with a coffee and a water - she sits forward and waves the woman over.

"So. I ain't seen you since - when the frag was that - Chok's Thanksgiving? What the hell was that 'turkey' anyway?"
Silo
Looking at his depleting pack of smokes, Freebird makes a mental note to pick up some more soon. He lights up and nods at the larger Ork.

He smiles between drags at the comment by Chok's friend. "It was a classic Chinese dish."
gobogen
Priest was walking towards the table and he saw that some of the people there already knew each other. That's quite usual for this kind of biz', and he knew that he'd be the new guy around so he'd better watch out for anything potentially irregular. Never too careful. Especially with trolls and orks. Drek, and they're smoking too...

The six foot tall human felt quite short sitting at the same table as all of them, so he decided to stay up and lean his back on the screamers poster. He didn't say a word for now, looking away, slightly annoyed by the smoke, but not showing it, exhibiting a neutral look on his face. At least there's gonna be a lot of meat to cover my ass for this run.

He just realised that he still had his energy drink. Gosh that thing is sweet.
HeySparky
Fade takes a last drag off of the cigarette and crushes it out in the ashtray. She blows smoke out of the side of her mouth, by reflex, up and away from the others. She squints at the new arrival, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Too good to sit down, breeder?" she grates. Her eyes are challenging, feeling out the newcomer.
gobogen
"I just don't like the smoke. Nothing against you, chummer."

The Priest was somewhat taken aback from the breeder comment, but he just let it slip through, not feeling like answering specifically to that. He read the aura of the large female trog to discover nothing exciting, a very low essence and lots of cyber - a street sam -, but that was already obvious just from her appearance in the mundane plane.
Oracle
BBO takes a look at ThePriest. Then on his cigarette. "Nichtraucher." After a last drag he disposes of the cigarette into the ashtray. He raises an eyebrow, nods to The Priest and shows his tusks in a way that seems to be a friendly smile. "It's getting crowded here..."
Silo
"Yet the one we all want to see has not arrived." Freebird comments in a slow Eastern drawl. He smiles to no one as he keeps his head down as if looking at something on the table. Taking a last three rapid puffs off his smoke, he puts it almost out in the ashtray, gives a quick smile to the non-smoker, and takes a swig from his beer.

gobogen
Now that the big brutes were nice to him, The Priest felt both more confortable and forced to sit down with them, which he didn't really feel like doing for now. Oh well, it must be god's will. So he sat down with some disgust, that he kept for himself again.

As he sat down, he finally noticed that there was also a female elf at the table, and what a beautiful woman it was!! The Priest felt urges inside of him that he had rarely felt before. It was lust, and he knew it, and he couldn't do anything about it. Her smell was so sweet and delicious that he could feel it over the odors of the ugly tuskies. Her face was mysterious and pretty. The shape of her body.. infinitely desirable. You're a priest, don't let these thoughts overcome you. Lust is a capital sin. You must overcome your animal instincts. But this woman, oh would he remember the sight of this woman for a long time. If only he could touch her, feel her against him, just once. She had to be the closest thing to heaven on heart.

The Priest was staring at her blankly, not really used to being subtle about these things, since he wasn't often subject to lust. After a moment he brought back up his composure and sat straight, avoiding eyecontact with her. It's all the giants' fault if I didn't see her before that. And it might have been for the better...
nick012000
Razorblade watches the interactions between the other team members. She also notices the preistly looking guy repressing his attraction towards her, and smirks.

Better not try to seduce him yet... not very professional to do so.

"So, you people are here for the meet as well?"
Silo
Freebird nods affirmatively to the question.
HeySparky
Fade tilts her head back and scans the human. The smoke, eh? She snorts as she looked at him. His eyes were fixed somewhere at Bird's elbow... what the...? Fraggin' sneaky 'eaters. Fade continued giving the human and started giving the elf her best 'I'll-eat-your-heart-out-of-your-chest-if-you-so-much-as-look-at-me-funny' stare. These days it was edging more into an 'I-have-indigestion' stare. Either way, it wasn't precisely pleasant.

"Yeah," she answered the elf woman's question. She uncrossed her arms and took up the crummy, chipped mug her coffee came in. "So, anyone know if this is it?"

Her eyes took on the glazed aspect of someone accessing AR as she set her commlink to refuse remote incoming traffic. She turns her head around to look for someone heading toward the table and notices some bouncers giving the table a nasty look. Better dial down the 'troll bitch' schtick. Bitch schtick. Bitch schtick. Say that three times fast. Bitch schtick.

She grins involuntarily to herself and quickly schools her face back to seriousness.
gobogen
The Priest finishes drinking his lightning blue energy drink and closes his eyes. He often does that when there's nothing better to do.. He's still paying some attention to what's going on around him. Assuming that he'll only have to wait for the Johnson a few minutes or less, he starts praying, leaning on the back of his chair. With his eyes closed, The Priest was also making sure that he wouldn't look at the elf woman. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thou...
Nu_Fenix
Candy's Apartment
Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 17:46

Electric Eddy sat on the edge of a bed, putting his clothes back on whilst Candy lay in bed, curling herself up under the sheets. Tattoos of his ex-ganger says blaze all across his arms and torso - A mix lightning bolts in honour his name, as well as a red demon covering his entire back.
Just as he finishes getting ready, his commlink starts bleeping, the ID tag displaying it as Rhino, a good friend from his old days. Giving him the message, Eddy looks over his shoulder at Candy, before looking at Rhino's ugly face on the screen. "Typical timing Rhino. Good job I've got a few hours to get some drinks in me first. Adios hombre." Strapping it to his wrist, he heads to the door and pauses as he leaves to give Candy a quick smile, before leaving her apartment block and heading off into the street.

Not wanting to seem overly keen about this new job, Eddy realised he would have to go somewhere else to relax with a drink before going to the meet. Where to drink? Fiesta is filled with skinnies working for Peoples. Rock City has lost it's edge. Only place left to go, Pedro's. And with that thought, he went to Pedro's.
Now, Pedro's isn't a bar that anyone can just go into. Unless you knew the people inside, you would be lucky to escape the place with any teeth at all. But the gang has been going there for as long as anyone can remember, and so even though he never really talked to Pedro, he knew he could sit back, drink some synthol and catch up with some old friends.

Pedro's
Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 18:38

After having such a good time with some old friends of his, Eddy failed to notice the time. Glancing behind the bar he saw a display showing the time, which forced him to slam his drink down the back of his throat hard and dash for the door. Drekk! The job! He thought to himself as he began running down the street.

The Sports Bar
Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 19:12

With a wheeze, Eddy managed to get to the bar, his entire body soaked through from the rain, large fottsteps trailing behind him. Heading to the Urban Brawl room, he quickly noticed the poster that he was directed to. Seems I'm not too late after all. He thinks as he walks up to the table, noticing all the others who were already there. "Wassup y'all. Not too late am i?"
TinkerGnome
The table where the Screamers poster hung was in the far back corner of THE Sports Bar, divided from its fellows by a low wall that made a small enclosure out of the table and eight chairs. The tables to either side were piled with soiled dishes and glasses, and that fact only seemed more odd as time passed and the tables were not cleaned.

Wednesday, January 22, 2070, 2102

Just as the team was settling in and realizing that they were, in fact, the team called up for the run, another person joined the table. He gave a smile and a nod as he sat down, looking almost jovial in his Seattle Seahawks sports jacket and hat. "How you guys doin'?" he asked and, for just a moment, it looked like he was a regular patron that'd made a mistake.

However, he pulled nodded his head and a dull hum flared to life all around the table as electronics embedded in the low walls came to life. Suddenly anyone with a commlink discovered that their matrix connection was cut and the AR world disolved away. All around the walls, the dull roar of white noise, carefully designed and routed, could just barely be heard. Clearly, the area had some privacy features included.

"Just some privacy measures. Don't want anyone disturbing us," he said and leaned back. "I've got something I need done. It involves roughing someone up pretty bad, but it isn't wetwork. If you got a problem with that, now's the time to go. If you stay through the rest of this meeting, then you can always decline... but I'll be requesting you take a vacation for a few days somewhere out of town."
nick012000
"I've got no problems with that."
Silo
Freebird cocks his head to the side to show that he's listening.
gobogen
"Not a problem to me," Priest added.
Oracle
BBO raises an eyebrow. "Sounds good to me." Hmm...I should buy some of that ECCM stuff Popov told me about...
HeySparky
The dysfunctional banter of the group feeling eachother out was cut short by the arrival of a seriously normal looking Johnson. Fade had seen guys that screamed Johnson before, in dives, restaurants, any hellhole that boasted 'runners of any stripe. This guy didn't scream anything. Which set Fade's teeth on edge.

As the noise of the room was lost in a wave of electric sound Fade swallowed, running diagnostics on her ears, the display was showing on her link when it went dead. She issued the mental command to run the diagnostics again and saw a connection error.

It dawned on her. Negotiations with the Dragons' lawyers had been similar. Though she'd only been in a few such meetings, the disorientation as sights and sounds long taken for granted dropped away was unmistakeable. If her teeth got any more on edge Fade thought her jaw might dislocate.

She watched the others accept, floored at their nonchalance. Will I get this fraggin' nuts? I gotta ask Chok if this is normal. Shoulda called him. Gotten prepped. No way I shoulda walked into this cold... She growled, "That depends on who you want roughed up, and if you're paying for the vacation."
gobogen
The troll was bigger than a bear and more scared like a kitten running from a hellhound just for a simple question. The Priest was surprised at that turn of events but frankly, runners had to be careful about the jobs they accept. Yet, this was not about accepting so what was the fuss about? Stupid, scared trog. I can't believe a minute ago he was trying to impress us.
Nu_Fenix
Eddy cracks his knuckles at the thought of roughing up some people. "You want someone black and blue, then Eddy is yo man."
TinkerGnome
The Johnson nodded and addressed Fade, "Well, if you're interested enough to hear it out, there's a bit of nuyen in it for you if you walk. We just ask that you not be in town for a bit and that you don't talk about what you hear in here."

He pauses for a moment, waiting for other objections. When he doesn't get any, he pushes on. "Alright, then. Any of you folks follow football? I mean, the good old North American kind, not soccer." He pauses briefly then continues, "Even if you don't, you've seen the Seahawks gear around town lately. The UCAS league final game is this Sunday and the 'Hawks are in. Only, they ain't going to win as things stand now. The other guys, the Washington Chieftains, have got one of the best offensive lines ever put together and they're going to stop all over our boys."

He paused again, before continuing once more. "That's why you're hear. The quarterback of the chieftains... if he doesn't make the game on Sunday, then they don't really stand much of a chance and the 'Hawks are goin' to the Superbowl. A group of people who made such a thing happen, might find themselves each richer to the tune of ten large. So, how about it?"
nick012000
Razorblade smiles, raunchy thoughts running through her head.

"Sound good. I'm in. Just one question: why only him? Why not the whole team?"
TinkerGnome
The Johnson smiled back, "Well, that's the difference between a team playing and losing and the game getting postponed. The rules state that if more than one third of a team is disabled under suspicious circumstances within one week of the game, the game ain't happenin'. If only one individual is assaulted, then it looks more like a personal matter."



HeySparky
Roughing up a player before an important game... That was SoP in the UBL. While not technically legal, it was expected. And precautions were taken. She takes a sip of her coffee, thinking, and puts the mug down. Her forearms rest on the table, hands relaxed.

Fade wasn't bought in yet, but this sounded like something she could do. It'd be nice to get paid for fighting instead of just splitting her knuckles for nothing. The human was cutting looks at her. He looks like some rich lady's pekingese arm warmer. All teeth and bravado. She narrowed her eyes at him. The elf chimed in with a question and the Johnson answered.

"Our only responsibility is making sure this guy doesn't play?" She nods, coming around to the idea. "What info do you have on him?" She leans forward and balls her fists, knuckles cracking, "And do you want any kind of ...message... sent?"
TinkerGnome
"The only message I need sent is "you're not playing on Sunday". I've got his info as registered with the league, and I've got the team's practice schedule. The team is probably split up among a couple of hotels in town, and if that's the way you're going to do things, you'll need to run those down yourselves."
Oracle
"That job sounds good to me. Do we get a part of the money in advance? "
TinkerGnome
"Twenty percent up front."
HeySparky
Fade nods. She looks down at the table, cigarette burns in the hazy lacquered surface, crude carvings disappearing under coasters. This was just as sleazy as she thought it would be. She leaned back again favoring the Johnson with a neutral look, "And the rest?"
TinkerGnome
"Will be delivered on completion of the mission."
HeySparky
No kidding. Fade can barely keep herself from grinding her teeth.

"Sorry - I meant... How will you be gettin' the rest of the money to us? I assume you wouldn't wanna see the likes of us any time soon." She cocks a heavy eyebrow at him and scratches under her jaw.

She reflexively checks the AR displays on her image link and feels a weird hollowness to find her connection just dead. Fade's eyes flick around the table, feeling the urge to upend the damn thing for no real reason. It was gonna be nice to clobber somebody.

Silo
Freebird leans forward and takes a smoke out of his pack. He holds it up to his mouth and before lighting it asks a couple of questions of his own, "Won't the Chieftans just heal any injuries we inflict? What exactly do you want done?"

He lights his smoke and takes a deep drag, flicking the unash-laden tip towards the ash tray on the table.
gobogen
The Priest listens carefully to what's going on, not feeling the need to interupt or add anything for now. He's intrigued at the kind of work this run is going to be, considering that the quarterback could be healed pretty easily. Does he want us to cut off one of his limb or what? A kidnapping?

Priest gives an exasperated look and sighs, looking at Freebird and his lit cigarette, then turns at the Johnson to listen to the answer. This would probably determine more precisely what was expected from them.
TinkerGnome
"The funds will be delivered to you though the individuals that contacted you for this job. There are certain finders fees to be paid which will be filtering through at the same time."

"With the amount of cyberware and bioware the target has, any substantial amount of injury will take a while to heal. Magic will perform poorly for that purpose and, as you know, the game is only a few days away. Should his injuries occur on Friday night or later... there is little chance of him making the game. There is no need for dismemberment... but if you really feel the need, take one or two limbs. Someone will replace them eventually."
nick012000
"Do we have to injure him, or are other methods of preventing him from playing acceptable? Blackmail, kidnapping... stuff like that.
TinkerGnome
"If such methods are effective, then yes. There is some measure of security around players, so kidnapping may prove a difficult option. If there were any existing blackmail, it would have been leveraged by now, so you would have to create your own. As football players are not known for their morality, it would have to be something dire to work."
gobogen
"We'll make sure that we are not discovered while doing this, of course, for our own safety. But how much do you want the injury to look like a plausible incident. I mean, there's a big difference between roughing a guy up in the showers and sniping his throwing shoulder off from two kilometers away. Do you care about the circumstances under which he's injured or not?"
Silo
Freebird continues to smoke and starts to try to get a read on the other runners at the table. They seem to be thinking the same things as he is for now.
TinkerGnome
"Do what you have to do to get the job done. No one is going to believe it an accident, in any case. Not with so much riding on his performance on Sunday."
gobogen
"All right then. Your terms are fine by me. I'm ready to receive all the info you have and my first payment. Who else is going to be part of this team?"
Silo
Freebird sighs and nods at the human.
HeySparky
Fade snorts at 'Bird's sigh and nods herself, "I'm in."

As soon as he gives over the money it's a done deal. No going back. Damn.

And here I thought I'd be nervous.


She picks up her coffee mug, hands rock steady. Though anyone paying close attention will notice damp prints where her hands were.
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