It's been a long day, and judging from the fact that it was only 11 a.m., it was about to get a whole hell of a lot longer. Literally. Flying 9 hours from Athens, Greece to New Orleans, Louisiana meant flying against time.
Yeah, today was going to be a really, REALLY long day. Checking his watch for the thousandth time that morning, Darius cursed under his breath. His plane was set to depart in half an hour and he had yet to clear Security and Customs. His ticket was first class, but that didn't save him from the endless security hoops he had to jump through due to the class of cyberware that littered his body.
Finally, the line moved forward. The heavily armored minotaur looked him up and down and waved him through the security scanner. Once inside, the scanner looked for weapons, cyberware and now with the introduction of astral film; foci, magical tattoo's, emotions... (the last part being particularly helpful after astral film helped identify a man hell bent on hijacking a jet.)
As Darius stepped out of the scanner, another armored security guard approached.
Photo Identification, Passport, and Beta Class Cyberware Authorization to Travel Form, please. The man said it all by rote, but by the looks of the HMG at his side, he was fully prepared to take issue if anyone objected.

Suppressing the urge to wrap the gun around the man's head, darius transfers over his documentation from his commlink.

Jesus, you'd think I was going to one of the damn Tirs or the Papal state or something.

The man barely glances at the file (infuriating Darius who can't help but remember the three hours it took to get the damn "Beta Class Cyberware Authorization to Travel".)
You're going to Gate 14A. Check in with Security once you arrive. Enjoy your flight.The dull, officous inflection in the man's voice never changes, and Darius can't help but wonder what kind of life the man has outside of the airport. Can't imagine anyone having sex with a man who talks like that.
Moving past security, Darius makes his way through the winding halls of the airport. Finally he approaches gate 14A with 10 minutes to spare. After speaking with security, showing his identification and forms again, and having to endure yet another pat down, Darius' frustration is beginning to show.
A woman's voice comes over the loudspeaker;
Hello ya'll. We'll be boardin' Flight 1109 bound for N'awlins just in a real quick jiff. In the meantime, if all ya'll in First Class and those travelin' with the little ones would just go ahead and line up in Line A, we can scoot out of here.
Thanks, ya'll.

Darius, grumbling about the damn kids, and hoping that the stewardess is at least attractive, and at best looking to make an interesting in flight movie, boards the plane. He makes the atempt at "appearing civil" as to not put off said stewardesses. But that's about as far as it goes.

Once on the flight, Darius is able to stretch out in his first class seat. A lot can be said for the Awakening, but one of the best things was the widening of airplane seating areas.
Waiting for the plane to life off, Darius scans the available entertainment packages. There's a new buddy comedy, a romantic comedy, a war drama, and for those old enough to enjoy it, a new NC17 "adult" film. Unfortunately, thanks to Gino's production meetings, Darius has already seen it three times.
Canceling the AR menu for the time being, Darius looks up to see a stewardess making her way down the aisle. She's cute. Long legged, brunette, green eyes and a smile to die for. Catching Darius' eyes, she smiles and winks.
Might not be that bad of a flight after all.

Having nothing better to do, Darius spends the flight getting to know the stewardess. He soon finds rather obvious excuses to call her back over. Asking for a pillow over head, help with his tray, "one more drink" , and so on, complimenting her the whole time of course. He makes sure to get her ame, and listen to some of her interests as well. After all, he knows whta he's like. He awnts to know more about her.

Her name is Layla. She's from New Orleans. She likes water skiing, hang gliding and racing. Horses, that is.

With the continued exchanges growing more and more flirtatious, Layla soon slips you her number with an invitation to look her up while you're in the Big Easy.
As the plane begins it's descent, it dawns on you that you haven't even had a chance to look at the file Gino sent you.
Pulling it up on your commlink, you open the file. The first item in the file is a photo; the photo is a surveillance shot. It looks like it must have been taken at some sort of sporting event. The woman in question is seen sitting forward, drink in hand, face turned in profile. At first glance, it’s difficult to discern a race, but the angled cheekbones and slim build suggest that she’s an elf. Her hair is long and black, worn straight. Form the picture, her eyes appear either blue or green, other then that it’s difficult to tell. She’s wearing black. From the looks of the cut, and from your own knowledge, it’s an expensive label. Whoever she is, she’s doing well or at least, she dresses the part.
Clicking aside the photo, you come across a written doc. The doc gives you the basic known stats on Ms. Santangelo. Her name is Lucky Santangelo. She’s known to have come from Seattle and prior to that New York. She currently resides in New Orleans, though no known address is listed for her. She owns and operates a casino/sports bar on the docks called “The Lucky Strike”. The address and telephone numbers are listed. Along with the information on Lucky, there’s also contact information for a Vin Capelli, apparently, Gino’s “associate in the States”.

Darius takes the time to commit the file to memory, then copies it directly to his headware via data jack. Darius still ahs the old style cable jack, to keep the data more secure. Once that's done, he takes some time to move freely about the cabin, bumping in to Layla near the bathrooms. Of course, Darius is way to big to much of anything in the human sized bathrooms, but the suggestion of it should be enough for her.

Once back in his seat, he makes sure to register a rental car (with insurance), and a hotel sweet. Then he begins a data search for info on Lcuky Snatangelo and the Lucky Strike

As you pass by Layla on your way back to your seat, she nods her head in the direction of the lavatory you must have missed on your way by.
It reads, "Metahuman Friendly". Winking, she goes back to serving drinks.

Your rental car is confirmed. A BMW with sunroof and insurance package will be waiting at the rental station beside the baggage claim carousel.

Searching for information on Lucky Santangelo you find the following: there is no birth certificate issued to a Lucky Santangelo anywhere within the UCAS database listings, there is a SIN listing for a Lucky Santangelo issued December 2034, in Brooklyn, New York. Parents are listed as unknown. No criminal record is found.
Newspaper information is brief, mostly one or two line blurbs about the opening of the Lucky Strike in New Orleans.

The information on the Lucky Strike is a little easier to find. The Lucky Strike is still in it's first year, operating as a casino/sports bar/games hall. The liquor license is registered to Lucky Santangelo as is the deed. A gambling license was fast tracked and approved three weeks before the club opened. So far, the club has recieved good reviews. A few vague Matrix rumors cite a "family influence" helping to keep it's reputation.

Since it's going to be a long flight, save that info for now. Take some time to stretch my legs, find the "metahuman Friednly Lavatory" and find out just how "friendly" that particular metahman can be.

Later, get down the relevant information such as addressses for the Strike, and Lucky. Then see about getting on to Shadowland. First check to make sure that commlink traffic isn't being monitored on the flight.

Apparently, the metahuman friendly facilities are VERY friendly. A troll man sitting in the seat behind yours smiles knowingly when you return to your seat. A minute later, another stewardress brings you a drink, courtesy of the same man.

Deciding to check for comms traffic, you pull up your programs display on your commlink. It takes a minute of messing around before you realize that you have absolutely no idea what you're doing and that it might be a good idea to stop before you accidently erase your hard drive. Perhaps waiting till you can contact your decker might be your best step.

The address for the Lucky Strike is easy to get. It's located on the docks, near the end of Pier 32 to be exact. An address for Lucky herself is not listed.

Be sure to thank the man, and the stewardess, for the drink. Continue much the rest of the flight in the same way. Switching back and forth between worknig and flirting.

Eventually, the flight lands. The first thing you notice stepping off the plane is the humidity. In just the few short seconds that you're exposed to open air before stepping into the airport terminal, you can already feel sweat dripping down your back and plastering your shirt to your back.
Making your way to the baggage claim area, you find the rental station easily. Soon, you're holding your keys and luggage. A courtesy shuttle arrives and takes you to your car. The BMW has been retrofitted to provide more space for the larger metahuman. Smiling, you can't help but remember the "metahuman friendly" bathroom. Just as quickly, you're no longer smiling. The air is heavy and hot, pasting your clothes and hair to your skin.
Losing your jacket as quickly as you can, you load your luggage and get in the car. For a moment it's absolutely sweltering, then the blessed air conditioner kicks in. It's heaven to sit there for a moment and take it all in.

First thign is first, go to a nice clothing shop, as in suits, and by a couple with proper ballsitic weaving, and those wonderful built in cooling systems. On the way, see about getting on line to the nearest Shadowland node and searching for more info on Lucky.

Make an extended etiquette test to see how long it takes you to find the Shadowland node that you're looking for.

11 sucessess over 4 tests.

For the next 40 minutes, you find yourself talking your way through the European shadownodes. Finally, you manage to locate the New Orleans Shadowland node.
A search for information on Lucky Santangelo gets you the following information:
Lucky Santangelo is reputed to be a "made man" within the Kozlowski Family, according to the rumors buzzing around the boards, she's one to watch. Her name is also mentioned in regards to a run that went way south a few months ago, a run she walked out on before it went down. She's known to frequent quite a few casino's along the riverfront and fittingly, seems to have a healthy amount of luck on her side. She's often see with an elven man by the name of Sinn and lately, a human man name of Bennett. She's been spotted at an underground fight club called the Arena with a local Family heavy named Harry "The Hammer".

You've just about completed your search when an icon seems to appear out of nowhere, the icon is of a beautiful naked mulatto woman with long dark hair and blue eyes draped in a coiled emerald green python. While she speaks, the python undulates down her body. Her voice comes out sounding like a soft hiss.
Why you looking where you looking, foreigner?

Annoyed, but willing to play for the moment, Darius answers sarcastically
I like the scenery

The figure seems amused and the python seems to smile.
If it's her you're looking for, it seems to me you're looking in the wrong place. But, if you're amenable, I might be able to point you in the right direction.

Oh I'm ammicable enough. Just not really sure what a sexy lady with a snake likes for her birthday The words Birthday - suit are what's on Darius' mind, but discretion gets more flies, or soemthing like that.

This time the figure smiles and the snake disappears, only to form itself a minute later around Darius' feet. The snake coils upward, squeezing as it goes. A moment later, the snake has turned into the woman whose arms are wrapped around Darius' neck. She looks up at him and speaks.
If I tell you what you want to know, you must tell me what I want to know. Fair enough?

What is it that you think I want to know?

The woman/snake curls around you, changing shape yet again. This time the skake's green eyes stare at you.
Oh, sugar, isn't it obvious? You're looking for her.A picture of Lucky revolves around the room.and in all the wrong places, I might add.
From where you stand, you can hear what sounds to be the distant music of Carnevale, laughter and shouts. Suddenly you can smell rum, pineapple, and a thick heady scent you remember as Cuban cigar smoke. The effect lasts for a second and is gone.

I can find her, don't worry your pretty head over that. But if you still want to share.... tell me what your asking price is first. And what to call you.

My asking price? I deal in secrets, my love. I know all kinds of little dirty secrets about this place. I'm sure you can find her, sugar, the question is... what are you going to do when you do?
As for my name, you can call me Mama Bourbon.The sounds of Carnavale are back, as is the scent of perfume. Jasmine and Vanilla.

And who else gets the answer I give you? Or does mama Bourbon keep all her secrets to herself, besides where to find Santangelo?

Honey, secrets are my business. It's what I do.The woman/snake continues to move. A few times you've felt a smooth touch across your lips, your stomach. Once you could have sworn you felt lips on the back of your neck.

Your business is your business. My concern is you making our business together someone else's business.

Mon chere, you have my word. Our business remains our business.
The tiny kisses continue, your neck, your arms, your face. The snake and woman interchange, both coiling around you. The music is louder now, the hypnotic scent of Jasmine all around you.

Alright, where do I meet you then. I don't like dealing over the Matrix. No way for me to know ifa meet is really secure or not.

Oh, a meet in the flesh, how...exciting. You can meet me at a casino riverboat called "The Voodoo Queen". Come alone and come after dark. Be prepared to play. I'll find you.
The music is fairly pounding now, the scent almost overpowering... when suddenly it's gone, along with the woman.
You're left standing in a white room with a single black door.

Finish up the data work I was doing, then put a call through to Pedro, my decker.
I may or may not have some data penetration. I ned you to make sure my 'link is good and tight and no one is listneing in on the line.

Once that's done, put a call through to Vince Cappeli.

Mr Cappeli, how are you sir? My name is Darius, I work for Mr Santangelo, on the mater concerning a person in New Orleans, where i've jstu landed. Would it be possible for us to meet?

The image on the other end of the line is of a distinguished looking older man with salt and pepper hair and hard eyes. When he hears Gino's name, it's surprising how much his eyes change. They go from hard and unyielding to smiling and genuine.
Ahh, Darius. Good to hear from you. Gino told me you would be calling. You've just landed? You must be starving. Why don't you come by my place? I'm grilling a few steaks and could use the company.
It's strange to picture this man standing beside a barbecue, but just the thought of steaks is making your mouth water.

I'd love to Mr cappeli. Just know that I can't stay long tonight. Not a lot of time for socializing when there's work to be doen, and I already havea few places I need to be later tonight. but if that works for you, then yeah, I'll be there.

Excellent. Your commlink beeps as a file is announced, it appears to be Vin's address and direction. I'll see you when you get here.

Looking forward to it. I'll see you in twenty.

Disconnect

About twnety minutes later, Darius pulls up to the address Vin sent him. He takes a moment to drive by first, scoping out the palce and the security, before turning around and heading up the drive.

I miss my Saleen S7. Giels would get in that car just to have sex with it. Fraggin' 'luxury' cars. Armor better be as good as advertised.

Pulling up to the security gate, a man steps out of the booth. He's dressed for the climate, but there's no doubt that the fabric is a ballistic weave. He steps up to the window, and nods once the window comes down. Backing up, he nods to another unseen person within the booth and the gate opens.
Vin's estate is palatial. It has the sprawling look you're so used to in Greece, but with several distinct differences. For one, plants and flowers you've never seen before grow abundantly in riots of color all over the grounds. Ivy curls it's way up and around the home, almost making it appear organic. The house itself is beautiful, done in light Italian marbles and pine.
As you park in the circular driveway, the door opens and a man you recognize as Vin steps out. He meets you on the steps.
Darius, good to finally meet you.His handshake is firm though you can detect a slight muscle tremor in the hand. He's dressed in lightweight khaki's and an olive green polo. He's tanned and looks remarkably fit.

Pleasure Mr Cappeli. If you don't mind though, I'm the tyoe that prefers to handle business before pleasure, especially when the business Mr Santangelo's. Is there some place quiet we can talk?

Vin nods and walks into the home. Stepping inside, you cross a massive entryhall with a draping golden chandelier, an exquisitely painted rotunda, and large pine double doors that open to either side. Crossing through the doors to the left, Vin waves you inside. You're standing in some kind of office, with tall bookshelves lining the walls. The first thing that strikes you is how alike this office is to Gino's, the second thing you notice are the unobtrusive scanners dotting the walls. Vin closes the doors and you hear the faint hum of the white noise generator.
Vin takes a seat on one of the leather armchairs, signalling for you to do the same.
What's on your mind, Darius?

Sitting down, Darius takes a moment to appreaciate the chair and the room.

As you probably know , I'm looking for this "Lucky Santangelo". I'd like to know what you know about her, if anything. Her mannerisms, how she operates, how well she is connected and to who. That sort of thing.

I know very little of the woman having only met her for the first time a few weeks ago. What I do know about her is this; she came to us from Seattle a little over a year ago. She was smart and she quickly gained the favor of a man within our organization by the name of Julian Mancuso. He took her in, made her one of us. She has a taste for the tables, and has made quite a nice sum playing them. It was one particularly good hand of roulette that won her the money she used to purchase the Lucky Strike.
I can't say much about how she does business, but I do know that she's got quite a few projects going on, projects that people are watching very closely.
Personally, I like her. She thinks before she speaks and she still has a bit of the New York edge to her. She reminded me a little of Gino, which is why I made the connection.

Good to hear she isn't some air head. Could potentially make things more difficult though. Is she the sort of lady that stands on her own, or the type that'll go running to this Mancuso guy if she feels heat?

Vin seems to think for a moment, considering. Like I said, I met the lady once, so I'm not much of a judge of character, but when I met her she held her own when someone tried to take her to task. I haven't heard of her running yet, so I'd say the odds are good she'll stand her ground.
So. I'm curious, how are you planning on approaching this?

I haven't really decided just yet. I may just go and talk to her. You say she's got a brain, so I'll go with that . Be a drek load easier in the long run than yanking out some hair and saying 'scuse me'. I'll play it up front. I hear she's usually at her bar?

From what I hear, that's where you can find her. She's got a loyal crew over there so just make sure you don't step on any toes on your way in the door.

Don't worry about that. I only step on toes when it's required. Too much work otherwise. Thanks for the scan. Now how 'bout those steaks.

Darisu sets his alarm first so that he's not late for his 'date'with Bourbon. he cooks the steaks on the proch for himself and Vin, and spends a good amount of time swapping "war" stories, complimenting Vin's home, and learning a bit more about how things work in the Big Easy, including who the big fish are, and which other toes to avoid stepping on.

The dinner passes enjoyably, the only notable moment being when Vin makes a comment about a man in Gino's employ being the kind of family the family don't need. When you don't seem to get the reference, he passes over it like he never said anything.
Escorting you to the door on your way out, he reminds you to be careful where you tread.
There's a lot of people with conflicting loyalties down here. People don't have the same kind of honor you and I are used to. Keep that in mind and you'll be fine.
Patting you on the back, he turns and heads back into the house. Watching him, it's easy to see that the slight tremor has increased.

Sliding into your car and heading out onto the road, you have to keep reminding yourself that you're supposed to be driving on the wrong side of the road. It's still a hard habit to break.
Within twenty minutes you're pulling into the parking lot of the Voodoo Queen, a large paddleboat style riverboat that's currently tethered to the docks. As requested, it's after dark and you've come ready to play, whatever that means.

Darius gives the boat a once over, looking for security. Also checks the local LAN for the boat, to see what it's purpose is, and if it's likely to leave with him on it.

Once he has the informaion, he checks the time, and stpes on, careful to set a reminder on his commlink if the boat is due to shove off any time soon.

he heads in to the bar, and asks there nearest bartender for a whickey, and a Mama Bourbon, the ofrmer in a glass with ice.

The LAN for the Voodoo Queen gives it departure and docking times and notes that for a small fee one can have a boat chartered to take you back to land before the scheduled docking time of 4 a.m.
Security seems to consist of a group of Jamaican men that are huddled around a set of gallon drums, and another set that seem to be hanging here and there aboard the ship. Occasionally, you see one of them have a word or two with a guest and then disappear inside.
The Queen itself seems to be quite the party barge, with music going full swing inside, and the din of voices and laughter can be heard even out here.

Once inside, the place is crowded. The bar backs up to a dance floor that is already filling up with the young and the rowdy. A swing band is playing a loud set and already you can see that the liquor is flowing free and easy.
The bartender is a mulatto man with a handsome face and a velvety smile.
He slides your whiskey over and nods to the stage.
You can talk to Mama when her set is over.
Sure enough, the stage darkens a minute later and the crowd whistles and cat calls. The music slows down to a smooth tempo with a jazz flavor. When the spotlight hits, a woman is standing there draped in a barely there sheer red dress that hits the floor but has a slit going all the way up to her thigh. Her hair is a dark brown and it flows in curls down her back. From here it's hard to tell what color her eyes are but you'd bet money they're blue.