Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:00:00
Seattle

The rain hasn't stopped coming. As hard as you try, you can't remember a time in recent history when there wasn't water slicking down your windows. It seems distant. Was it a few weeks ago? A few months? Years? You think for a while, but the sky seems to have been wet and grey forever. Its vaguely depressing, but the air has never been fresher.

Aeryn was sitting in her small flat, idly passing the time, when her comm chirps. Its a message from León.

"Aeryn...", he begins, his french accent almost too thick to understand. "I have an interesting job lined up for you and your friends... are you interested?"

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:00:01
Seattle

When her commlink comes to life, Aeryn scares up. Oh... it's just the phone.

Reading the message, the elven shaman smiles, finally something to do, other than counting the raindrops on her window, that is.

She waits a few minutes, before she picks up the little gadget and sends a reply to her fixer.

< [Aeryn] Yes, we are currently free to take on another job, and are interested to hear more about it. Do you have a time and place for a meeting already? Any more details available? >

While waiting for the answer, Aeryn already composes a quick message to notify the four friends, León was talking about...

< [Aeryn] Hey there! Got a new job on the line. Details forthcoming... >

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:04:04
Seattle

León's next message comes quickly.

<[León] Excellent. Meet me at sixteen hundred hours. Here's the address. I'll give you the details face to face.>

The address he sends you is a nightclub on the north side of the town, called "The Green Fairy", a Neovictorian absinthe house.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:05:21
Seattle

To León: < [Aeryn] Thanks! We will be there. >

To Team: < [Aeryn] 16:00, The Green Fairy (address included), job details will be offered there. >

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 09:59:58

Billy -- caught just after a shower and clad only in a pair of silk boxes -- dives headlong over the back of his black neoleather sofa in the face of a hail of suppressed gunfire, twisting and rolling as he lands behind it. With his feet back under him (at the far end of the two-piece from where he'd leapt over it), he tightens his holds on the polymer grips in each hand, then uncoils like a spring. He straightens from behind the couch, his own pistols muted firing soon to be joining the symphony of gunfire; shots whip past him, fire chases along the couch, the stuttering chatter of the submachineguns he faces turned into a riotous cough by their sleek suppressors.

He lines up the targeting pip displayed on his glasses with the real-world red dot that dances along the wall, projected from the underbarrel laser sights mounted on each of his pistols. His trigger fingers spasm when the dots all line up on enemy chests; not a proper squeeze, but at this range and pouring out as much lead as he's determined to, there's no need for good form. A pair of assassins in slate grey suits and mirrored shades stumble and fall backwards, one man's finger (or brain, thanks to cyberware) locked on the trigger of his gun and sending a stream of autofire up into the roof of Billy's top-floor apartment. Shen catches a movement to one side, lunges sideways to avoid a throwing star and brings his guns to bear against a killer clad head to toe in black ninja wrappings. Billy fires desperately in mid-dive even as the assassin's black-clad arm cocks back for another throw and --

< [Aeryn] Hey there! Got a new job on the line. Details forthcoming... >

-- Billy's fingers tighten on his triggers a split-second too late. Miracle Shooter had already aborted itself at the incoming message. Shen hits his thickly carpeted floor with a soft oof of wasted breath, plastic triggers of his plastic light-guns clicking worthlessly. With the game shut down, the hydraulics built into the polymer frames weren't even kicking in with the virtual recoil he'd programmed them for. His holo-target had already been removed from the virtual reality of his apartment, just as had the corpses from earlier in the game, the bullet damage to his couch, walls, and ceiling, the shell cases that had littered his floor a moment earlier. The only thing Billy had to show for the game was some rugburn.

Shen sighs; he hadn't been near a top score, but he'd been in the groove. Turf wars being what turf wars are, busy as he'd kept himself with his freelance work, it had been months since he'd felt he was really getting his money worth out of his Miracle Shooter subscription. He didn't need the practice as much as he once had (again, thanks to turf wars and freelance work), but that didn't mean it wasn't still good practice. Punching paper, they'd called firing ranges back in the twen-cen. Shen had no idea how folks had ever considered that legit practice for firearms handling. Not compared to Miracle Shooter, at least.

He stands, carelessly tosses his sim-munition pistols onto the couch behind him, and actually takes a moment to read the game-interrupting inbound message. There were only a baker's dozen of ID's he had his commlink programmed to let override a game, which meant whoever it was, it was a business call. That made it worth his time and trouble to scan over, at least.

As he notes the sender, he smiles. As he reads the initial message, his smile broadens. Biz was biz, and while it might be Octagon money that keeps his guns loaded and the roof over his head (in that order), it was his freelance work that kept the place nice, the suits clean, and the game subscriptions paid for. Aeryn was on that short list of respected callers, for multiple reasons. Paychecks weren't the least of them.

By the time the second message displays itself on his glasses, he's half dressed -- missing just his suit jacket, holster rig, and tie -- and whistling a jazz tune from Matchstick's live band (still stuck in his head from last weekend). The text display, this time, isn't nearly as uplifting, though. He frowns, and tippity-taps out a response on his comm, nimble fingers dancing inhumanly-quick across the keypad, but still not bothering to visit the shift key.

reply all: <[BS] ugh. went to that pretentious neovic joint with an ex once. never seen so many poets in top hats in my life. it was terrifying. even the corsets didn't make it a good trip. i'll show, but only because it's before opening time.>

Billy scowls as he taps the <send> button. He really didn't like the Greenie. Judging from the rest of the sent-to list, though, he'd be in decent company, at least. "And," he reminds himself as he reaches for his tie, "You're probably getting paid as a result of being there."

In the mean time, he's still got a Saturday afternoon to kill, and -- since he's not in the Miracle Shooter mood any more -- a rumbling stomach that's crying out for some carbs and protein.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:00:01
Dirt Cheap Coffin RB-3341, Ork Underground, Seattle, UCAS

Chiller, quite naked, lays in his coffin, the myriad small scars, scrapes, cuts, nicks, stitches, and odd patches of skin that have healed on their own and have not been cosmetically rebuffed to look like shiny new skin at the latest Modern Body shop are clearly visible in starkly contrasting shades of lighter brown patches on his darker toned skin. It's a subtle patchwork.

< [Aeryn] Hey there! Got a new job on the line. Details forthcoming... >

There's a subtle shift in his breathing, his left hand tenses around a baton, it's ready light providing a green tinge to the subtle yellows lighting the interior, his right hand shifts it's grip on his Viper slightly as Chiller performs a quarter turn, bending his right knee and straightening his left and bracing it against the side of the coffin.

< [Aeryn] 16:00, The Green Fairy (address included), job details will be offered there. >

His body relaxes again, legs straightening...incoming call and under closed lids his eyes can be seen moving rapidly as he scans messages and other data. The indicator lights on his ear buds flicker, as well as the lights on his cheap commlink hanging in his netted bag.

<[BS] ugh. went to that pretentious neovic joint with an ex once. never seen so many poets in top hats in my life. it was terrifying. even the corsets didn't make it a good trip. i'll show, but only because it's before opening time.>

To team: < [Chiller] This Tusker will be there.>
To Benji: < [Chiller] Cover for me tonight, got a hot date.>
To Hooligans: < [Chiller] Something came up, Benji will cover my shift tonight.>

With a visible grimace, Chiller checked the rest of his messages...3987 SP(am)AROs. I have got to find a good hacker, one who at least take cover during a firefight instead of painting himself blue and run screaming "Freedom!" into a hail rubber bullets. Damned chipheads.

Mentally deleting the messages, he tries going back to sleep, setting the commlink to only buzz him on priority calls from the accepted list...need to get my beauty sleep...

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 9:57:03
J’s Garage, 601 W. Main St., Puyallup, UCAS

Dingy grey light attempted to penetrate the pervasive film and acid-pitted glass to illuminate the small bedroom. Amid the tangled sheets on a large futon-type mattress a foot with bright purple toenails peeks out as well as a few tendrils of blonde hair. Clothes are tossed haphazardly around the room, the line between what was clean and what was dirty had been infinitely blurred.

< [Aeryn] Hey there! Got a new job on the line. Details forthcoming... >

A groan comes from the pile of sheets as the first message arrives, the buzzing of the commlink attempting to wake the sleeping form to life. If that wasn’t enough, the messages flashed and blinked in bright hot pink as the mass of tangled sheets, blonde hair and purple toenails sat up and ran her fingers through her hair trying to wake up enough to make sense of the message on a mere hour of sleep.

< [Aeryn] 16:00, The Green Fairy (address included), job details will be offered there. >

Those six little words woke her up better than a quad espresso from SoyBucks. The promise of money was always an incentive to get up in the morning. With a sideways glance Halo registers the time and decides to lay back in bed for a bit before getting up to jump in the shower. With any luck she could snag a few more hours of sleep, get up make herself presentable for the meet and still have time to get her hands dirty down spinning wrench in the garage with Glitch.

<[BS] ugh. went to that pretentious neovic joint with an ex once. never seen so many poets in top hats in my life. it was terrifying. even the corsets didn't make it a good trip. i'll show, but only because it's before opening time.>

< [Chiller] This Tusker will be there.>

That made a group of four. She smiled to herself as people continued to check in, people she could enjoy working with, and if she was lucky she and Billy could manage to burn some rubber in the process. Before she snuggled back into bed she sent her response to the group.

<[Halo] We don’t have to play dress up do we? If we do, I think I’ve got a corset that’ll fit you Billy.>

With that sent she wiggled her way back into bed and burried her head under the pillow to block out the murky grey light that was seeping into the room and trying to steal her sleep.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:02:21

< [Chiller] This Tusker will be there.>

Billy pauses in tying his tie, gaze flicking up and to the left to read the incoming text message as he and his elevator car glide smoothly groundward. He'd left the black length of neosilk strung half-heartedly around his neck while securing his holsters (and firearms) and shrugging into his longcoat -- it was still raining -- and only starting working on the knot on the way to the elevator. He nods to himself, satisfied, as Chiller's confirmation message was displayed. Fire support was always a good thing, and the ork could certainly provide it. There was the added benefit that people tended to shoot at Chiller before they did Billy, which made for a nice change of pace, if nothing else.

By the time the elevator chimes quietly at the underground parking level of his apartment building, his four-in-hand knot has been perfected, and he's back to humming that catchy improv number from Matchstick's, a week ago. Earbud nestled in place, though, it's not too long before his own inpromptu jam session is interrupted by his commlink alerting him about another incoming call. He watches the letters scroll onto his field of vision, humming left behind as he reads.

<[Halo] We don’t have to play dress up do we? If we do, I think I’ve got a corset that’ll fit you Billy.>

Billy grins at that, but finishes the walk to his bike before one hand dips into a voluminous coat pocket to withdraw his commlink and type up a reply. He swings a leg over and takes a seat before tickety-tacking away at the keypad. Halo was coming, which was a good thing. She was about as easy on the eyes as Aeryn herself, and was one of the best drivers Billy knew. He shoves aside the reflex action to compare her -- in more ways than one -- to the best driver he'd ever known, and busies himself being foolish and likeable (which is, after all, how he'd spent the lsat five years dealing with those sort of sad thoughts).

reply all: <[bs] i've got one, thanks. and we'd better not have to dress up for this, or i'm waiting outside and chiller can do all the negotiating.>

Banter requirements momentarily handled, he slips his comm back into a pocket, and grabs his helmet from the magnet-o-mount between the bike's handlebars. His hair -- only the tips dyed red-to-match-his-suit today, the rest left his natural dark, dark, brown -- gets a hand swiped through it, sweeping it back, before he settles the helmet into place. A few moments later, he and his bike are launched from the exit ramp and onto the Downtown streets. There was a great little Thai joint just a few blocks away; far enough he could stretch his bike's legs, not far enough the rain would get through his insulated long coat.

Elven 'runner, some little voice in his head stated certainly, needs food, badly.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 10:02:21
1425 S Puget Dr # 401, Renton, WA

The air felt like a foul mix of the humid tropics and windblown desert sand. It gets in your eyes and ears. It sticks to your face. Every time you bite down on a piece of food or take a drink of water, you're reminded of where you are. A fitting backdrop for a land both peace and humankindness had abandonded long ago.

The man standing in the wind was bald, his head covered in scars. He's wearing nondescript taupe clothing that would be equally appropriate for a street-side cafe in Buenos Aires or the jungle. His skin is pale, but still holds a hint of olive coloring that has only become more obvious after the last few days out in the sun. His eyebrows are bushy and move when he talks.

His eyes narrow slightly as the wind whipped at his clothes. Behind him, men in the mismatched olive drab of a rebel army in training went through calesthetics drills.

As he talks, you feel a spot of moisture forming on your brow. It builds and then trickles down the only real relief you feel from the heat. You can also feel the weight of your insulated milspec body armor. The thousand-nuyen polymer lining that's supposed to keep you cool and dry in this weather isn't cutting it. It feels like the devil's own sauna. The wind momentarily rises, drowning out his voice as he speaks.

"...rrently in contact with what we believe to be the main force of rebels in this operational area. After the last attack on government forces, we have suggested that the training bases be relocated to a more secure area. However, indigenous command has overruled us thus far. We-"

The speaker stops. He looks to the side, for a second, as if he heard something. As the wind momentarily dies down, you can hear voices in the background chanting a cadence.

"What's the matter?" you ask.

The speaker straightens up and looks back at you.

"Nothing, I just thought I heard-"

He cuts off his speech with a half-formed yell of surprise as the world explodes in pain, dirt, and fire. Your world goes black...

Spec woke up to the sound of beeping.

Lying in a cold sweat, he didn't move for a moment.

It's ok, he told himself, you're in Seattle.

He mentally shut off the simrig and the patch of static that seemed to overlay his consciousness disappeared. He removed the fiber optic cord from his temple.

The beeping sound came from the bedside nightstand. He opened the drawer.

Login: Edward
Password: *********

Good Morning, Ed!
6 New Messages for You!

< [Aeryn] Hey there! Got a new job on the line. Details forthcoming... >

< [Aeryn] 16:00, The Green Fairy (address included), job details will be offered there. >

<[BS] ugh. went to that pretentious neovic joint with an ex once. never seen so many poets in top hats in my life. it was terrifying. even the corsets didn't make it a good trip. i'll show, but only because it's before opening time.>

< [Chiller] This Tusker will be there.>

<[Halo] We don’t have to play dress up do we? If we do, I think I’ve got a corset that’ll fit you Billy.>

<[BS] i've got one, thanks. and we'd better not have to dress up for this, or i'm waiting outside and chiller can do all the negotiating.>

Delete coversation? [Y/N]


Spec stared into black space, as the words hovered in his field of vision. He got up, went to the bathroom, drank some water then coffee, and showered.

Then he replied.

<[Spec] I'm game.

He looked over at the rumpled lined coat which laid on an unused recliner in the living room.

I'll be wearing my Sunday best.>

[Send]

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 15:27:03
Seattle

About time... Aeryn thought, mentally stopping the music player, that was running in the background with the latest club tunes. Looking at the constant raining outside, the elven shaman had decided to rather call a cab, instead of driving her own bike. She had walked two blocks away from her flat, just in case, to get picked up there.

The black leathers did a good job in keeping out the wet drops, that occasionally hit her despite taking shelter near the entrance of the building, she had chosen for her waiting place.

“Miss Connor?”

“Yeah.”

“Come in then, it's much dryer in here,” the driver says, his smirk hidden behind the toned windows. With a mental command, the door to the back seats unlock. Aeryn opens it and gets inside. “Where to?”

“North side. The shopping mall.”

“Which of the three?” A display comes to life, showing the north side of Seattle in some detail. Three buildings are highlighted. Aeryn points on one of them, gently touching the screen. A slight beep acknowledges her choice, the one closest to The Green Fairy. It would only be a 5 to 10 minute walk. Hopefully they had some canopies there.

“Got it miss, enjoy the ride.”

Sure...

Soft music begins to play in the back cabin, not quite her taste, but it was just a matter of a few thoughts to have it fade out and listen to her own music instead.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 15:30:01
Seattle, Downtown

Billy's hand flicks out, snake-quick, to swipe through the sensor field over his nightstand's built-in alarm clock. The motion sensor acknowledges the gesture, but the alarm itself -- as though insulted it was only allowed to blare for a single second -- continues for another half-second before turning off. By the time blessed silence has refilled the room, Billy has turned the reach into a back-arching streeeeeeeeeeeeeetch, complete with a yawn. Ah well, he sighs as he sits up, then stands, Nap-time's over.

It never failed; a stomach full of rice and beef made him sleepy. He'd barely been home ten minutes -- getting the good news about more fire support, by way of Spec, also being in on this gig halfway through his meal -- before he just couldn't help but sprawl his lanky frame out on the bed for a little ciesta. He figured setting the alarm for a half hour before the job would give him plenty of time; a minute, two tops, to re-apply some super-wiz foam and restyle his hair, another five to double check full magazines and get loaded for bear, call it a minute to get the elevator back to the parking garage, and that left a mind boggling one thousand, three hundred, and twenty seconds just to drive to the Green Fairy itself. Plenty of time; in fact, Billy figured he'd be a good eight, ten minutes early, at least.

He idly whistles to himself as he puts the plan into action. He'd be on-scene in no time.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 14:23:42
J’s Garage, 601 W. Main St., Puyallup, UCAS

She was dreaming.

A tropical beach laid out before her, blue water and white sand as far as the eyes could see. Cabana boys moved about the beach catering to everyone’s whim and she could feel the warm sun on her quickly bronzing skin. She felt a cold drink pressed into her hand, the sweat from the glass was cooling… it was sticky?!?!

Her eyes snap open and look towards her hand to see it being affectionately nuzzled by the garage’s pet bulldog.

“Wizzer!”

She called at the dog with an affectionate chide to her voice. She patted the bed beside her as she sat up, the big dog lumbering up beside her with his tongue lolling out as she scratched behind his ears in that way he liked. She never understood why such a gearhead like Glitch didn’t have some superhuman robo-dog instead of a flesh and blood one given his affection for all things mechanical. Secretly she loved Wizzer, he was just a good protective dog with a sweet and slightly dumb side.

Throwing back the sheets she manages to drag herself out of bed and stumbled towards the shower as she rubbed what sleep was left in her eyes. She’s quick to get clean and get her hair dried. With a good 45 minutes before she’s scheduled to be on the north side of downtown she starts picking through the piles of clothes in her room, smiling to herself as she sees the dog still curled up and now sleeping on the foot of her bed. She fishes out a dark purple top and with her toes she grabs the waistline of her leather pants. She throws her hair into a high ponytail, shimmying into the leather pants while hopping around the room a bit as she pulled them up. Once on they fit like a second skin. Shrugging on her signature jacket, her Predator nestled at her side she was ready to go.

One last glance at the clock. One last glance at the bed. One last memory of the beach. One last soft sigh.

And she was off to the Fairy.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:00
The Green Fairy

The rain, a neverending downpour of water a mere few hours ago, had lessened some. It was still raining hard, but you have to learn to take what victories you can.

The outside of The Green Fairy looks as intended, which is something yanked out of the past. The doors are tall and oak, with a frosted glass oval with a fairy etched into each one, and the letters G and F in some gothic script.

Even though the nightclub won't be open for a few more hours, there are still some fashion disasters in waistcoats and top hats, waiting under their umbrellas for the dubious privilege of being first in. The truly worst dressed ones look like they tried to mix current styles in with their overpriced, more retro than retro clothes. One girl in particular is poorly decked out in a PVC corset, a flowing skirt, and hairfalls designed to appear as rusty metal. As you make your way to the front doors, they glare at you through their monocles and pince-nez glasses.

The doorman, a tall, tough-looking, probably ex-military human in a brown vest and derby cap looks up from his relaxed position of being slumped against the wall, eyes shut and lazily smoking a cigarette. He lifts his head, and makes eye contact with the five of you in turn. With a movement of his shoulders, he comes away from the wall, and yanks the door open for you. You can almost, no, scratch that, you can feel the waves of hatred coming from the waiting patrons.

The interior of the nightclub is much more tasteful than the clientele. Theres a green carpet leading up to the bar, which has a seating area of green chairs and tables arrayed in front of it, and even an honest to God fireplace. On the right end, the floor is open, with a stage, for whatever the hell Neo-Victorian musicians play there. The left side is made up of booth seating. Seated at the bar is León. He's wearing his omnipresent black suit, with an omnipresent cigarette between the fore and middle fingers of his right hand. His back is to you, and he's currently engrossed in some conversation with a white-suited middle eastern man, who's hair is oddly done up in a topknot.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:00
The Green Fairy

“Private function,” Aeryn mentions casually, accompanied by a slight shrug of her shoulders, before she heads in.

The elf moves up towards the bar then, but stops a few meters short of where León and the man in the white suit are talking. She doesn't want to appear obtrusive and he surely would have noticed them coming in, anyways.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:12
The Green Fairy

"People in waistcoats," Billy says to no on in particular as the group assembles outside, "Are not to be trusted."

Of course, by the time they're close enough to the tophat-clad would-be clubgoers, Billy Shen's busy doing what Billy Shen does; fitting in. His chameleonic body language goes to work, and he's all laid-back nods to the guys in line, apologetic smiles as they brush past people, winks and appreciative leers for the ladies. There's nothing about him -- nothing at all -- any one of them could use against him in an argument, no reason any of them have to dislike him, no hard feelings except the abstract (or, in this case, literal) disliking of being left out in the rain when someone else is warm and dry indoors. The collar on his charcoal-grey longcoat is flipped up, the front closed, not only so that no weapons peek out but also (assuming he's done so on purpose) so that the Victorian dress-ups have no way of knowing how Billy's dressed beneath the coat. One less thing -- breaking costume -- for them to hold against him.

Even with folks he hates, he can't help but be likeable. And, of course, once you're inside he starts it all over again. His collar gets flipped down, rain-wet hair slicked back, coat given a little shake (droplets not quite hitting any of you), aggreived Seattlite ruefull grin on his face; everyone in the city gets rained on, aren't you all buddies because of it, it sure is great to be inside, what a nice, dry, warm, building, it sure is swell of everyone to let the team come in out of the rain, let's all be friends.

And so, quite naturally, as the team regroups inside and fans out in a half-circle just politely outside of conversational distance from the engaged Leon, he's in front by about twelve, fifteen centimeters. Not enough to say he's the team's talker, but certainly enough to imply it.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:15
The Green Fairy

On the way in, Halo had regarded the fashion victims outside with a slight gaze and a neutral face as she passed by them with her group and was led inside without being in “proper dress code” for the nightclub. She could feel the wave of anger and the daggers from their eyes that followed them and it made the small of her back tingle, and not in a good way.

Stepping into the club her eyes immediately adjust to the club’s darkened interior as she looks around to get her bearings. This wasn’t her kind of club and she had never really been here, just heard the rumors of what went on inside a place like this. Besides she got her laughs driving by late at night to see the freakshow lined up outside the bar pining to get inside.

León was easy enough to spot, but something about the man he was speaking to sucked the very wind out of her, and it disappeared with an audible gasp for those to either side of her. The hair, it was so familiar and sent her on a mind-spinning memory trip back to almost seven years ago. Shaking her head, trying to clear the images and the memories, she looks closer at the two men as she tries to be discreet, but when you’re all but staring, that makes it kind of hard.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:14
The Green Fairy

As usual, Spec hangs back slightly from the group, quietly scanning the surroundings for anything that looks out of place.

Of course, he looks quite out of place - a big, rough-looking bald man with a cigar in his mouth wearing a rumpled lined coat over slightly less-rumpled clothes. His hands stay in his pockets.

Once the others head toward the door, he follows a few steps behind He ignores the scenesters except for an occasional, wary glance and a barely suppressed smile at Billy's behavior.

The more obviously glaring faces in the crowd get a second or two of eye contact from him, which is usually enough to make them look away. He grinds out the cigar before he goes in.

Spec walks straight through the crowd nodding slightly to the doorman as he walks past.

You must hate this job, buddy, he thinks as he enters the bar area.

He stands off to Billy's left side as they approach the table. No one around him notices (so he thinks) him tensing slightly at the sound of Halo's gasp. He looks nonchalantly around the bar while he nonchalantly tries to listen in on the conversation that Leon is having.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:17
The Green Fairy

The restrictions on travel had been a pain as usual. There were a lot of places Chiller couldn't walk through the door without triggering a lot of alarms, including some cab company doors. Fortunately there were still some outfits that went with the armored partitions and advertised privacy, and then there was always the option of shelling out for a limo service. Looking at the line, he was glad he hadn't done that. Ignoring the stares he trailed the rest of the team in, wondering if Billy was good enough to project the idea the two women were Billy's dates to the crowd without the two of them catching on. It certainly looked like it from here, he and Spec making like bruisers escorting a high rolling party. He made a point to nod to the doorman a he went past.

Automatically, as they get inside, Chiller moves right, turning to face right so he can scan back as well, as Spec takes left, concentrating his attention on on his third, trusting the left to hairless human, and leaving the front to the other three.

Mentally he triggered the routine to hook his commlink into the team circuit.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:00:25
The Green Fairy

León and the white-suited man talk for a few more moments after you come in, and then León stubs out his cigarette, then steps off the barstool and walks over to you. He shakes each of your hands, smiling warmly. His suit is immaculate, as always, with a pressed white shirt and an impossibly straight red tie.

"Ah, good, good. Glad you all could make it.", he says, his accent thick as ever. He takes out his cigarette pack, an all blue box with a winged helmet on it, and slides an unfiltered cigarette into his mouth.

"Breaking in my new lungs, you know. Care for one?", he says, holding the pack out to you all. He places it back in his pocket after anyone who wants one has taken one, and gestures over to the man in the white suit, who has so far only glanced casually over his shoulder to look at you.

"Where are my manners. This is who contracted the job, my associate and good friend-", he begins, when Halo interrupts him.

"Aziz?", she says, more a question than a declaration of fact. At this, the man on the stool spins around on the stool, a look of surprise on his face.

"... Halo?", he says after a moment.

"You... have met?" León says, running a hand through his black and grey hair.

Aziz nods. "Yeah... a long time ago.", he says.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:01:01
The Green Fairy

"Small world, isn't it?" Billy smiles around an as-of-yet-unlit cigarette from Leon (it's considered rude to turn down a gift, no matter how casual or small, in very nearly every culture and sub-culture in the world) and gives a what-you-gonna-do, coincidences-happen shrug. Of course, in the Shadows, coincidences don't really happen very often. Some teams would call off a job, if Mister Johnson turned out to just coincidentally be a figure from one of their team-mate's shadowy pasts. Once a Johnson's anonimity was ruined, bad things often happened to the people he hired to commit criminal acts. Billy, though, is bored enough he really wants to work today. He didn't ride in the rain for nothing.

So, not breaking social stride, he extends a hand to Aziz, his left plucking the nonfiltered smoke from between his lips. "Nice to meet you. Name's Billy Shen. What can we do for you today, Mister Johnson?"

He gives the honorific, the label, the title, just the slightest hint of an inflection. Work is work, he wants to say, to Halo or Aziz or Leon or all three of them. Muddy up the waters after the credsticks are handed out and timesheets are stamped.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:01:30
The Green Fairy

"Indeed it is, Mr. Shen. Indeed it is.", León says, casting a sidelong glance at Aziz, with something on his face resembling disapproval. He lights his own cigarette, then reaches out to light Billy's, when he notices with a small frown that its no longer between his lips. Aziz stands up and walks over to the group.

"There's no need for calling me Mr. Johnson, Mr. Shen. I was never planning on that level of secrecy, anyway. I have nothing to hide.", he says, reaching out to shake his hand. You notice that he's actually quite young, not much older than Halo is.

"Now then... in appreciation of your eagerness to begin the job, I must ask you this. What do you know about coffee?", he says, his eyebrow raised.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:01:38
The Green Fairy

He gives Leon a little nod after Aziz's handshake and question, and leans forward to get lit before answering. The unfiltered is, of course, harsher than Billy's unpopular brand of lightly minted tooth-whitening cancer sticks; he doesn't cough, but holds it in for a moment, giving his body the chance to acclimate, before an exhalation.

"I know more people buy it and drink it than folks realize, which means it's worth more than most people think. Most of those people drink the cheap stuff, which means good coffee," which everyone in the room understands to mean real coffee, just like meat and leather and wood and sex, "is worth even more. I know that, just like smokes and booze and unlike guns and drugs, it's not an obvious contraband item, but someone could still save a pretty penny tossing it over borders without taxes and tariffs and junk in the way. I know that's the first thing to pop into my head, that might tie into a job concerning coffee."

The reply comes smoothly and easily, just before another throat-burning inhalation of harsh smoke. Billy did get his start riding bitch for a small-time smuggler/courier, and when they weren't transporting the obviously illegal goods like BTLs and smack, they were carrying otherwise legal goods just to bypass extranational red tape. Billy, himself, certainly isn't an expert on import and export laws, but he knows they exist -- which means, just like every law since gravity, someone, somewhere, is willing to try and break them. He lets the smoke drift out, brief pause over.

Behind the smoke, his teeth flash in a grin. "I also know I like mine with two creams and one sweetener, but I doubt that's got much to do with what you're after."

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:01:38
The Green Fairy

It wasn’t often that Halo found herself struck speechless, but this was definitely one of them. She managed a little nod of confirmation to Aziz before Billy started speaking, she was actually glad he was taking the lead. She couldn’t stop staring at the man Aziz had grown into, it was overwhelming, the urge to catch up on everything right there and then, but she had to focus. She had to concentrate on business.

"…What do you know about coffee?"

Coffee? We’ve kinda outgrown knocking over SoyBucks… but Billy’s got a point, it’s got some value to someone out there somewhere.

She glanced over towards Chiller Spec and Aeryn as she pulled herself together with a little nod as she chewed on her lower lip listening to Billy go on about coffee.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:01:38
The Green Fairy

Chiller had declined the smoke with a slow shake of his head. The moment Halo had reacted to the Johnson he'd kicked in his wires to max, and to compensate he concentrated on keeping as still as possible. You couldn't rely entirely on your own senses, so reading and trusting your teams reactions only made sense. Even if everything seemed chill after a moment, he still kept himself wired up. After all, you couldn't trust your team to sense things right either. Something was odd no matter what everyone was saying.

Automatically cutting out Billy's chatter, Chiller steps back after his brief and tightly controlled handshake, and turns his back to the team and the Johnson, scanning his half of the room, leaving the rest to Spec. He starts counting and mentally tagging people and the various exits.

the man has a topknot, distinctive, makes for a good handhold if Halo goes twitchy and I have to grab him.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:01:52
The Green Fairy

< [Aeryn] A problem? >

The message comes over the teams private channel, Aeryn's thoughts are picked up by the trode set she is wearing, hidden on the inside of her cap, then transformed into a wireless signal and sent to her commlink, which in turn sends the message to the other team members. The elf only returns Halo's glance for a second, then she focuses on the man who would be their employer for this run... most likely.

Instinctively, Aeryn's perception switches to her astral senses, while she tries to follow the talk about coffee, her eyes focused on Aziz most of the time. Billy surely had some interesting thoughts on that matter, but for some reason Aeryn couldn't believe, that the question was directly related to the job they had been assembled for. But maybe it was, there was no way to tell that yet.

“Coffee you say? Well, I surely know, that I drink too much of it sometimes...” Aeryn then says, smirking slightly.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:01
The Green Fairy

"Now then... in appreciation of your eagerness to begin the job, I must ask you this. What do you know about coffee?", Leon says, his eyebrow raised.

Spec glanced at Chiller and then Halo.

Chiller looked perfectly calm and controlled, which probably means he had already figured out how to snap the Aziz's neck in the fastest way possible, Spec decided.

Halo looked like she just ran into an old boyfriend that she'd been trying to get ahold of for years.

"The best stuff is grown down south," Spec said.

He glanced at this Aziz warily.

< [Aeryn] A problem? >

I don't like where this is headed, he thought.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:23
The Green Fairy

Aziz nods. "Yes, down south. It all grows in the torrid zone, between the tropics. And Mr. Shen summed up many of the common problems nicely.", he says. "In South America there's a small farm. They produced high quality for many, many years, up until the Awakening, sixty-some years ago. Their coffee producing plants themselves awakened, and since then, they haven't produced anything. Until, of course, now. Through trial and error, they figured out how to properly grow, dry, roast, and pack it. And they're ready for sale. Their entire crop, after sixty years. Its not much, something around one hundred pounds. They have a buyer lined up in the Tir, but with tariffs, legality, and the like, they decided to smuggle it here overland. Thats where you come in. Are you interested?" He pulls a silver cigarette case out of his breast pocket, and produces a short, brown cigarette with a gold filter. He lights it, then looks to each of you, waiting for a reply.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:23
The Green Fairy

Billy flashes that smile again, takes another harsh drag off the nonfiltered to buy the team a second, decides he'll have to talk to buy them a few more. While he's content to negotiate for them, he's not going to completely make up their minds for the rest of the crew; especially not if Halo and their Mr Jay -- Aziz, he corrects himself -- have a history that could complicate matters.

"Interested is a loaded word. Speaking for myself, it depends on three things. How much pay, where's point A, and where's point B?" Smoke chases the words out of his mouth, his hands do a little talking for him, variously pointing as he rattles off possible point A's, possible point B's. "We talking somewhere in South America to the Tir? South America to Seattle? Seattle to the Tir? Even just the 'South America' part leaves a pretty big land mass. Smugglers charge for distance traveled and difficulty of border crossings. There's a big difference in going rate, depending on where exactly pick-up and delivery are supposed to take place."

And, in the meantime, the question for Aeryn hangs just at the edge of his field of vision, displayed on the inside of his glasses...waiting for an answer. It could always turn out Halo answers that "problem" question just wrong, and this whole gig could turn into a shoot out instead of a conversation about coffee, road trips, and customs manifests. Billy's determined not to let that possibility show, though; he's all smiles, curious questions, friendly body language, and professional courtesy.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:45
The Green Fairy

Aziz looks puzzled for a moment, and takes the cigarette out of his mouth. "Point A? What do you me- Oh! Oh.", he says, then cracks a grin and begins laughing. "No no no no no, you misunderstand me, Mr. Shen. I apologize for not making myself clearer. I don't need you to smuggle it. It's already on its way here. I need you to steal it."

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:47
The Green Fairy

"...I need you to steal it."

Imperceptibly (except maybe to Billy), Spec relaxes.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:23
The Green Fairy

Halo slowly let go of the breath she’d been holding for what now felt like 10 minutes in a slow silent stream. Her body language relaxed and as soon as Aeryn’s question popped into her vision she could honestly answer.

< [Aeryn] A problem? >

< [Halo] No, no problem. Just past history. Someone I ran with 6 maybe 7 years back. Hadn’t seen him since is all. >

She left it at that, there would be more time to fill the team in on details later, but she could feel the way Chiller and Spec had immediately gone on edge and on the defensive at her surprise so she needed to take the tension out of the equation.

Her brow arched pointedly as she listened to the details of what could become their next job. Her interest was only minutely dampened when it was realized they wouldn’t be headed to South America after all and they wouldn’t be bringing it in themselves. When it’s clear that they’d be stealing it however, a slow sly smile spread across her lips.

Now, we’re talkin’…

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:23
The Green Fairy

"Well, then." Billy's grin had seemed cheerfull enough for the entirety of the last few minutes, but now he really does mean it. It might be the fact he won't be driving an off-roader bike through the humid jungles of Amazonia, it might be Halo's message, either way a weight's off his suit-clad shoulders. "That's a bit more exciting, isn't it?"

"That handles the point A and B business, allright. And, to be honest, it sounds a bit more up our alley. Unfortunately, it opens up a few new questions -- expected security, who exactly we'll be pissing off for swiping their stuff, that sort of thing. And, of course," he pauses for another mouthfull of smoke, another smile, "It does still leave the question of pay, before we can say yes."

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:23
The Green Fairy

Colorful images of machetes slashing through animated tentacled coffee pot wielding plants followed by jumps off of high emerald green mountain ridges into deep blue whirlpools of waterfalls followed by long mountain treks with mules loaded with rugged denim bags filled with jumping chirpy coffee beans melted away when the Johnson explained it was a theft. Not a continent spanning smuggling adventure.

< [Halo] No, no problem. Just past history. Someone I ran with 6 maybe 7 years back. Hadn’t seen him since is all. >

Billy chattering again, hard to ignore really, but better to do so and pay attention to what everyone else is doing. Chiller could hear perfectly well to the conversation with his head and body turned away and looking at the rest of the room.

In the corner of his vision on a scan Halo's grin triggered more doubts. It might be she was relaxed a bit, but in his experience all the worst fights were started by people who thought they knew each other well. There were often a lot less misunderstandings between strangers, because you knew you were dealing with a stranger, and had to be careful with what you thought the other person knew. Amongst the friends, or regulars, you could get into some really bad misunderstandings, like the time Hardcore Malone had finally made his on move on Kinky Kelly only to find out that Kinky wasn't either kinky nor a guy. It had been very messy and bloody, but the subsequent reattachment worked, Hardcore Malone claimed it worked better then ever, and the pair of them had taken to prowling together figuring at least one of them would end up with their target of the evening.

Chiller continued running mentally through a series of scenarios and threat priorities.

left end of the bar is most exposed to the room, if mass shootout starts that spot will give me the most access to targets, light cover... I can make it there in three steps and a long jump and spin...

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:32
The Green Fairy

< [Halo] No, no problem. Just past history. Someone I ran with 6 maybe 7 years back. Hadn’t seen him since is all. >

< [Aeryn] Good for him. >

The ambiguity in the message reply is certainly no coincidence.


Aeryn's smirk vanishes as Aziz explains the intended run a little further, and she nods her head twice. “To answer your question, Mr Aziz, I'm interested to hear more about it.”

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:52
The Green Fairy

Aziz nods slowly. "Ah yes, the question of pay. At this moment, I am prepared to offer you, say, ten thousand nuyen each. It should be more than adequate, seeing as how I've done most of the legwork, and you'll only need to handle the security detail."

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:52
The Green Fairy

Fifty thousand nuyen, Billy thinks, bringing the cigarette to his lips again, for some coffee. Five hundred noo a pound. Expensive coffee. Let's see just how bad he wants it.

"Five of us, one a Talent, two of us known heavies with combat experience, for a no-brainer cross-town snatch? That must be quite a security detail, Mister Johnson, and some very, very, nice coffee. Ammunition is expensive, medical care doubly so, and from the sounds of things we may need plenty of both. Two thousand apiece, up front to handle expenses, another ten each on delivery?" The smile he gives takes any sting out of the negotiation, the little gestures with the smoking cigarette accentuate his points. Billy's such a reasonable, likeable, guy, doesn't twelve sound fair, after all? He lets the counter offer hang in the air like the rich smoke he exhaled with it.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:53
The Green Fairy

He was mid punch when he stopped his mental combat simulation and considered what was being said. Seemed like good nuyen. Enough to get a top notch commlink, maybe get it implanted so he wouldn't worry about it getting trashed like the last one. At the moment he was running a cheap Korean knockoff that someone had left at the Red Barn, a biker bar for older bikers. It kept reverting to default iconography at the worst moments. An implant sounded like a good idea, but he would really need to track down a good hacker to set it up with the right protections. An implant wouldn't have exploded when he accidentally drop kicked it in one of his practice moves. You had to admit it would be unlikely for Chiller to kick himself in the head, though he was certainly flexible enough to do it.

... heavy... I haven't been putting on weight have I?...

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:02:53
The Green Fairy

At the mention of money, Spec's mind retreated far, far away from the bar. Briefly, the mental image of a figure lying in an oxygen tent and hooked up to dozens of monitors replaced the Fairy's gaudy interior. That image was in turn replaced by the image of a doctor, a look of sympathy and concern on his face....

Yes, Spec thought, his consciousness snapping back to the present moment, ten thousand is a good start....

Spec looked at the Johnson intently, wondering just what they were going up against this time.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:07
The Green Fairy

The question about the exact payment was still hanging in the air, the tension was raising to tangible levels.

Putting on her best what-he-said face, Aeryn awaited the answer of their soon-to-be short-term employer.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:07
The Green Fairy

Aziz looks at Billy, and takes a drag off his cigarette, then exhales a lungful of dark, pungent smoke.

"Twelve thousand total, you ask? How's eleven thousand sound, instead?"

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:07
The Green Fairy

Billy shrugs as if it doesn't really matter to him either way, "Two up front, nine on delivery?"

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:10
The Green Fairy

“Looks like we got a deal then,” Aeryn says. “You mentioned the legwork you have done already before, do you have the gathered information compiled in some fashion?”

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:14
The Green Fairy

Spec glanced over at Aeryn and then looked back at Aziz, trying to size up his new "boss."

I wonder whose coffee we're going to be stealing, he thinks to himself.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:07
The Green Fairy

She was still in awe that Aziz was actually standing before her again, let alone that she was about to be "working" for him.

Ten grand buys a lot of tools

Her body language changed, she was relaxed and almost looked like she was enjoying herself as the negotiations for cash continued.

Eleven grand buys a lot of tools AND a lot of Bliss

As Aeryn all but seals the deal for the 11k, she nods her own silent acceptance of the cash offered and puts in her two nu.

"Or even just the basics? Who's expecting it, since we're gonna piss someone off when we get our hands on it. Also, I'm assuming that we're doing this in Seattle proper and not god forbid anywhere near the Tir. And most importantly when is this going down? How much lead time do we have?"

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:43
The Green Fairy

Aziz takes a final drag of his cigarette, and stubs it out in an ashtray on a table next to him.

"Well, currently, the goods are in a warehouse on the south end of the docks. Tomorrow morning they're to be loaded up into an armored transport, and taken through the city. As for who's expecting it, thats not important."

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:03:48
The Green Fairy

Spec speaks for the first time: "I assume you know their route. What kind of security do they have; what kind of vehicles are they using?"

He speaks slowly and deliberately. His gaze doesn't waver.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:04:14
The Green Fairy

Aziz nods. "Yes, we know their route. The vehicle they'll be transporting it in is a modified GMC Bulldog. As for the security detail, we've been informed that there will be eight guards armed with submachine guns. They'll be in the van, and also in a chase car what we're not actually sure will be."

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:04:37
The Green Fairy

“Anything about awakened guard personnel?” Aeryn asks.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:04:40
The Green Fairy

The usual chatter going on behind him, Chiller concentrated on watching the rest of The Green Fairy. Despite all the questions everyone had, and the answers they might get from the J, he knew they would double check everything on their own before committing to any plans. Though it did sound like this would be a pretty hard hit, just for some coffee. On the other hand, Chiller had seen some crazy things people did for coffee too.

Friday, January 10th, 2070, 16:04:57
The Green Fairy

Aziz shakes his head. "No, as far as we know, there aren't any awakened guards."