Mei smiles at Pura and waves her over to the elevator, blipping it a code from her comlink. "Sure t'ing have to see what fit. t'ough." she says cheerfully enough as she ushers Pura into the elevator-which is big enough to hold a forklift, and looks like it has in the past. When the doors open again, it's not on a grimy old warehouse, but a rather nice living room.

Jake exits the shower, clad in a single bath towel, wrapped round his waist, and tied at the corners, so the opening falls down his left thigh. His tattoos, marking him as once a member of the Rude Boyz gang, play over toned muscle as he wipes the wet hair out of his datajack and heads into the living room. He sits down on the couch, and pulls a length of fiberoptic out of his arm, and attaches it to the cyberdeck. Bringing the system up in AR, he lays it over his lap, and lays back.

"Wow nice home. Is it really busy all the time in this place? I can't really imagine living above a club." Pura says, unzipping her vest. The violet haired changeling slips the armor into her bag. She eyes Jake curiously as he leaves the bathroom, unable to avoid checking him out as he leaves in a just a towel.

"I'm easy...I'll wear pretty much anything. Thanks for letting me get cleaned up. I definitely could use some celebrating tonight."

<<Jake>>
<<Got a janitor's closet I can get changed in? I'd rather not scar Portia any more than she already has been by forcing her to see my less-than-clothed self.>>

While Pura showers, Mei goes digging through her closet, laying out a selection of tops, pants, shorts, and skirts out on the bed before throwing on her favorite Hawiian shirt over her tanktop and holsters. ('permanently borrowed' from Jake.)

<<Dancer>>
<<There's a half-bath off the garage, next to the elevator.>>

Dancer quickly makes his way into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He very methodically washes the gore and blood from his monowire and rewinds it around the spool. He empties his street clothes out of the backpack and begins packing his gear away before pausing and staring into the mirror and thinking. Is this worth it? Is this what Jess would have wanted me to do? No. I can deal with it later. For now, I have to be visible.

He sighs, then strips out of his armor and carefully packs it into the bag as well. He carefully slips back into his street clothes and stares into the mirror for a moment before smiling. "It's no big deal," he says out loud. "It's all part of the world we live in. I just need to keep going... keep living. No regrets. I'll find you, sis. But for tonight... I have to live."

<<Jake>>
<<Mind if I store my stuff upstairs tonight? I'll pick it up before I leave.>>

<<Dancer>>
<<If you can't leave it in the garage, here in the apartment is fine.>>

With that, Jake leaves his body behind, and reaches deep into the cyberdeck, and proceeds to spend the next seven hours perusing it's every mystery.

<<11.25 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy>>

At Jake:
<<Ok, Jake, let me get dressed again, and I'll come give you back up.>>

DD takes a quick shower - the sight of the ork's head and groin getting shot makes her feel as if her own sweat is his blood on her skin - and uses the time to calm down. Focusing on the task at hand helps as well - as does the money from the job this night.

DD pulls her clothes on and finds her way to the rest of the team, a smile she doesn't really feel on her face. Her voice, thanks to her voice modulator, projects more confidence than she is feeling when she's sitting down on the ground near the ork hacker, crossing her legs and leaning on the wall, her commlink hooking up with Jake's.

"So, 'ow do you want to do this, Jake? Fast or slow?"

As the door slowly rolls up, Celeste's mouth twitches into a smile for a second.
"One day you woke up and found yourself lost in a dark wood. Trying to leave, you found yourself beset by a very well intentioned Jaguar named Mei, a lion named Jake, and a starved wolf named Vassily. They turned you back from your path, and now it seems the only way out is through Hell." Celeste says with black humour. His tone is hushed, as if to encourage the listener to ignore the joke of questionable taste.

Pura carries her sports bag into the bathroom with her and then closes the door. The purple haired pixie unzips the rest of her armor, peeling away the skin tight armor top and tights followed by her undergarments, stuffing the pile into her sports bag aside from the bra and panties. Then she climbs into the shower and turns the water reveling in the feeling that the warm water was carrying the spattererd blood off of her and down into the drain...she stayed in the shower under the warming flow for almost 15 minutes before climbing out.

Sticking her head out the door, and using the rest of it to cover her body, she called out to Mei. "Mei, can I borrow a towel as well? I don't want to get your's wet if your goingto be taking a shower too. Wet towels are no good."

<<11.25 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy>>

Easy slid back in to his body.
Being there Astrally was so much a better idea than being there in person.
Plus he wanted to make sure no spirits came looking for him.
He was no expert on aura reading, but there had been no bluffing.

Poor thing.
He hoped she realized that the sins of the father do not pass on to the next generation.
They just have to live with the fall out.

It was all over but the clean up shockingly fast.
It was the only safe play too.
Jake didn't play around. Good.
Any thing else could have got them all broken down to their component parts.

He'd feel more of a sense of relief if he wasn't also considering how he felt about feeling reliefed someone had been executed.
Still call it what you will... Karma or reaping what you sow, or what goes around comes around.
The world was a better place.
He hoped that Vasiliy found the Karma payback a total stone cold bitch.

He'd be interested in what Jake found on that old deck.
Maybe there would be a chance to earn some good Karma.
He was tired of running and it was better to be proactive rather than reactive.

After stowing his gear, Dancer makes his way to the bar. He orders a moderately alcoholic drink and nurses it as he begins a night of people watching.

Portia listens carefully to Celeste, finding his fairytale to be accurate. Her lips move into the ghost of a smile as she steps out into the dark with him, movements slow and cautious and steady. When she speaks, he finds that her French is rapidly adjusting to meet his, her voice picking up his cadence and vocabulary, though maintaining the flawless pronunciation and slightly poetic grammar. "And what would you be in that wood, Sir? It has not escaped my notice that I do not yet know your name, though I am sure you know mine."

Portia keeps a modest distance between the two of them, intent on appearing strong and composed, though, honestly, she would like to throw herself into a bed somewhere and drown herself in tears. Short of that, she finds a relatively clean patch of pavement and settles her back to it, folding her legs beneath her and smoothing her skirt over her legs. The cold, hard asphalt feels good beneath her, solid and real, if distant from the grass she's used to at home. Her eyes are slowly refocusing to the darkness, and she blinks frequently to keep her tears back. She has not cried yet, and she will not start now.

<<11.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy>>

At Dancer:
<<Can you check if one of them is your sister?>>

DD sends Dancer pictures of the six girls from the "shipment" a "Jess" was mentioned in, showing their faces - and the trode bands on their heads. All six are inside a van.

Down at the bar, Dancer suddenly spills his drink as he shoots out of his chair. "Jess!" He blushes as several bar patrons turn and stare at him.

<<That's her! 4th picture, the Redhead. It's her! Where is she? Who has her? Oh, fuck this. I'm coming up!>>

With that, Dancer makes his way quickly over to the elevator and pushes the call button, tapping his foot impatiently.

Mei delivers a pair of thick, fluffy white towels and a selection of clothes "T'is do?" she asks Pura, passing them over

"Its just a joke, and I was already stretching thin," Celeste says quietly as he settle onto the ground, across the alley from Portia. Habitually, he reaches for a pack of cigarettes which are no longer there. Celeste knew he wasn't suited for offering comfort, but he he also was pretty sure comfort wasn't exactly what Portia needed. Mei and the others would be mighty comforting, and she had chosen not to go with them. So Celeste though back to a time in his life remarkably similar to what this girl was going through, and what got him through it. It was just him and his siblings though, no helpful strangers, and they were all in deep shit. They treated each other like people, not statistics or victims. Celeste had a general policy of treating people like people, and he was guessing that is what Portia needed. "So. I noticed you aren't crying, you haven't thrown up, and you aren't in a state of numb shock. That makes you pretty tough. My name is Celeste Brisbois, but please keep it to yourself."

<<0.30 AM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, Divine Comedy>>

DD spends time with Jake and Dancer in the Virtual reality representing the Fairlight Guardian, sorting through the data concerning Jess, the special Tatoo, and his "Labor Force Distribution" firm. It is a disgusting picture that is revealed, of organlegging, kidnapping, and slavery. The young hacker hopes that Jake knows what he is doing - if this backfires, the repercussions could be severe for all involved, the customers of Vergot's organisation had a lot of clout.

Picture

I really need some eX after this...

Portia nods a little at his introduction. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Celeste." As the pleasantry slips out of her mouth, she laughs, a soft, confused sound. "Old habits die hard, I suppose. It is certainly not a pleasure to meet you, under these circumstances, and yet I am rather pleased to have your acquaintance."

She looks at him across the alley, and shakes her head a little. "I am only taking this well because... because some part of my mind keeps thinking that it isn't real, it isn't true, and that I will wake up soon in my bed and home and all will be as it was. Brodie will come home from wherever he has jetted off to, and Mutti and Vati will arrive home in time for dinner, and they will ask me about my studies. Vati and I will read together in the living room, and Brodie will tease me about my birthday coming up..." Portia trails off, the impact of her impending birthday becoming mildly upsetting. "But that's not going to happen, is it? This is my ... life, now. At least you all are rather kind."

Moving slightly to wrap her arms around her waist, she forces a normal tone back into her voice. "I shall respect your wishes, Celeste, and keep your name to myself.. but why? And where did you learn your French?"

Pura's head disappears back around the door and it opens further giving a glimpse at a large amount of pale toned skin as the changeling girl reaches out to take the clothesand towel. "Its perfect Mei, thank you." the orc hears as the pile of clothes and towels retracts back into the bathroom. The door stays open slightly givng Mei a peak in off of the mirror if she wants to take it. The clothes and one of the towels ends up sitting on the sink while Pura dries herself with the other.

Once she is dry, she slides on her panties and starts picking through the clothes Mei had picked out for her, ending up with a pair of very short kahki shorts and a tight red t-shirt that says naughty and has a small devil's tail trailing down off her backside. The shirt was tight enough to reveal that she wasn't wearing a bra, but her frame was athletic enough that she wasn't super endowed and didn't need one, even if she had one with her which she didn't.

The changeling girl nudges the door fully open with her foot and begins to humm as she dres her violet colored hair. "Thanks Mei...are you planning on going back downstairs tonight and doing some dancing or are you going to stay in with Jake?"

Dancer sits, leaning against the couch, still plugged into the cyberdeck, going over the information gathered time and time again. It's an ugly picture, but it's going to get a lot uglier if Dancer has anything to say about it.

Mei indulges in a quick peek in the mirror, then looks up when Pura emerges. "I t'ink it bes' of I show up downin the tes'trant. mi' call attantion if I don't. You hungry at all? I fix you some'ting." She thinks a moment, then pops each of the runners who participated in the snatch a voucher for a free meal at the restaurant. "I should go down, make sure t'ings are ready. I head chef tonight."

Celeste gives a little chuckle.
"Where else but Pari?" Celeste declares, in English, using an outrageous and stereotyped French accent. He switches back to French to continue, "First I learned French from the finest private and discreet tutors, and then I learned in again in the worst parts of the Paris Sprawl. A quaint combination, no? As for my name... it is known in some places, in some circles, and among some people, and it carries a reputation. Most of that reputation is not good. I do not wish for you to have a false impression of me, so I will explain. I do not believe myself to be a kind person- mostly a genuine person, and kind qua it is genuine. I want you to know I helped abduct Vassily for two reasons. One, because the pay was generous, and two, because I knew it would get me in the good graces of an important fixer and a number of local runners." Celeste pauses, uncertain. He is not sure how he ended up talking so much about himself, and he does not like it. He is used to being frank and honest, but being so usually involves just telling people to piss of when they become annoying, or pointing out gross stupidity when it threatens his life.
Celeste wants to get drunk. A good and proper drunk.
Celeste also finds himself respecting Portia. She has not cracked up too bad, and she has not taken the easy solution of following Mei to a nice comfortable bed to have a good cry and a good sleep. Instead, she chose to sit on the cold pavement with his questionable companionship. Celeste is surprised at some parallels between his early life and this girl's and he is surprised to find not only that he wishes to help her, but feels like he owes her his aid.
Bah. Celeste laughs dryly in the back of his mind, as he pushes aside these thoughts of owing. Who is he, if not Celeste, and who is Celeste but a man with dirt on boots, salt in his eyes, and too little life to afford pretensions. Perhaps he is a little more, perhaps a little less.
Still, Celeste hopes that Portia is benefiting from his presence. She would be the first in a long time to do so.

Portia nods gently, respecting this answer. "Those are better reasons to get involved, in my mind. I know that Jake and Dancer and everyone else wanted to help me, to protect me... but so far, that's gotten everyone I knew and loved into ... trouble." She pauses for a moment, considering her next question, rolling the words around in her head for a moment. "Perhaps genuine is better than kind. Kindness makes me into a burden, doesn't it? Something other people have to support. I am tired of being that way, tired of needing other people to keep me."

She falls quiet, turning her head to look back at the garage door they came through. "I am tired of causing other people pain and trouble to keep my silly, backwards view of the world intact. It is a far wider and darker wood than I was ever prepared to believe, Celeste, but I am not going to wait in the middle of it be rescued."

Gecko sighed quietly to himself.

He was hanging upside down from a fire-escape enjoying the poignant vignette occurring two stories below him. Watching the world weary soldier and the naive young innocent bonding in a dirty alleyway brought a warm feeling to his heart. A warm feeling that he tucked away on the servers back in Seattle to re-examine when he next needed cheering up.

He was content with the nights work. He didn't like what they'd done, how they'd done it or how it had turned out. However, a couple of hours work had cleared the last of his debts and, when the Credstick Dancer thought they'd all forgotten about was divvied up, most of his expenses for the next couple of months were covered.

He was still hooked into the Creepwatch server and the remains of the TacNet and judging by Dancers agitation there could well be more work in the offing.

Perhaps he could start saving for the upgrades he wanted...

Celeste hears a noise. Calmly, he removes his sunglasses, and slowly wipes the lenses, bit at a time. Keying into the glasses' feed through skinlink, what Celeste is really doing is examining the area above him, which is where the noise came from. Through the glasses' image link, he inspects the area first in thermographic, and then in the low light setting. It is not hard to ID Gecko. He sends him a brief little message through his DNI
<<I am feeling generous tonight. You have eight seconds, from my mark, to clear my line of fire. Mark>>

All the while, he keeps talking to Portia.
"I do not intend to shake your resolve, and I think you should know your options. With Jake's contacts he could get you a new SIN as good as a real one. You could get a scholarship, either by merit or DD's digital magic, and go to university, get a BA, and MA, and PhD. Maybe you would find and marry some nice man, and make a new family for yourself like the one you lost, only this time it will not be one funding by viscously. I could give you a dose of Leal, and you would fall asleep and when you woke up you will have forgotten, forever and irrevocably, how your family really made a living, that you saw Vassily's corpse, even that you chose to forget. I do not tell you this to be a bastard or tempt you; I tell you because I want you to understand what you are choosing."

"That makes sense, let me go down with you so I can grab something to eat. I feel like celebrating my first run, I mean, I made 28,000 in just one night for my very first job. Its just way more than I imagined." Pura says, she tosses her sports bag down by the couch, and then follows along with Mei when she goes down to the resturant/bar, making small talk until she is ready.

"Surprise me...I'm open to just about everything tonight." the changeling tells Mei brightly once the ork is in in and ready to start cooking. "Oooh, and some more of that wine from earlier, that was really quite good, you and Jake have really good taste."

Celeste's words have a rather unexpected effect on Portia, and the girl moves to her feet rather quickly. Her posture is tight and a little tense, and she has to bite into her lower lip and count to five.

Her French, this time, is back to perfection, and her accent is smooth still, but the rage in her voice is real, making every syllable icy. "With all due respect, Monseiur Brisbois, all I have left is my name. What you propose would waste everything that my family did, and everything that others have done here for me tonight. You would make me a bluebird again, just like Vasiliy said, a pretty little fluffy waste that ignores and forgets and lets others handle the reality of the starving wolves in the dark woods. So while I appreciate the intent of your offer, I will decline."

Her steps are quick and still tense as she strikes off down the alley, soft shoes making little taps on the pavement as she heads back to the garage door. She finds that she is not quite sure how to open it to get back in, and this fact only increases her anger, which she forces back with a soft German curse. Her hand knocks twice at the metal as she wraps her free arm over her waist, forcing herself to calm down. She should not have spoken so crossly to Celeste, she thinks, as he was only being kind... but something about his proposal struck her deeply. Exhaling a slow breath, she hopes someone will open the door so she can get out of this alley and up to the loft.

<<Jake or Mei, please open the garage door>> Celeste sends. He does not even bother to see if Gecko has moved. He gets up and walks to the garage door and waits beside Portia.
"You mistake me. It was not an recogmendation or a proposal- only information. I just wanted to make sure you knew you had the choice to 'be a bluebird again.' By having the choice, and choosing not to go back, it makes being free more meaningful, no? More painful, and more meaningful." Celeste reaches into a pocket in his jacket and takes out a little bag with a single cigarette and a book of matches. Holds it for Portia to see, then puts it away. He does not look at Portia when he speaks those, he watches the garage door, waiting for it to lift. "The others know my as Giles." he adds as an afterthought.

Portia flickers her eyes over to Celeste, her anger temporarily softening. She exhales again, slowly, and while her posture remains tense, she nods slightly. "I apologize for having snapped at you. Please forgive me. And I will remember to call you Gilles in front of them, then."

She ponders for a moment if she should fix her pleasant expression back on her face, but cannot quite manage to drum up the determination. She is exhausted, wondering how she has managed to stay upright so long, and the dark circles under her eyes are slightly more prominent now. She wants to get up into the loft, and into the shower, and then find a place to sleep that will not be so much in the way. It was kind of Jake to offer his sofa, but she is craving something a bit more secluded and quiet.

The door opens, simply. Jake returns his focus to his hack.

Celeste is headed for the bar for a drink. He dares not get drunk- he will be sleeping with his rifle and one eye open for a few nights- but he knows he can handle another drink.
But before he parts with Portia, he does say a final thing.
"Tomorrow I will be shopping for some more amoured clothes, and I think you would benefit from buying some as well." He scratches out a commcode on a slip of paper, then hands it to her "If you would like to come with me, give me a call before one pm, and please destroy that paper as convenient."

Portia slides the paper into her pocket, smiling a little bit at Celeste as she heads into the garage. She isn't quite sure what to do with herself, but she knows she doesn't want to head upstairs just yet. She doesn't feel quite fit for human society. The girl follows the path Jake took her through to get here, seeking, simply, a quiet spot to sit and think for a while. When she locates one, she folds her knees up to her chest, wraps her arms around them, and finds a comfortable spot in the middle distance for her eyes to settle onto. Then, her mind begins to work as it always has, almost pulling out of her body and processing all the new information she has gathered. New facts, new ideas, the tiniest scraps of detail, everything is recalled, investigated, and cataloged, filed neatly and cross-referenced.

This is always how Portia has made herself feel better about the world. When she would worry about Brodie as he took trips around the world, she would soothe herself by learning the language of his destination, throwing herself at the new study relentlessly. When he came home, she would converse with him exclusively in the new tongue, often better than he was at it, and he would teach her all the choicest profanities- if she promised not to tell Mutti. When her father would come home from work, tired and distant, she could always charm him back with poetry, and he would make a game of having her switch authors or works mid-stream. She delighted in her ability to please him, and in his praise. And her mother, always so charmed by the little enchantments Portia would create, loved to buy her clothing, often coming home with a half a dozen dresses. She always was a little disappointed by Portia's very plain tastes and fascination with the color grey, but nonetheless, she loved to dress her daughter.

Of course, knowing now how this money was made, and what Brodie was likely doing on those trips around the world, Portia finds these memories less pleasant. It is only now, sitting alone in a deserted scrap of space, that she allows herself to sink into these thoughts.

Only several hours later does she rise, working the kinks and cramps out of her arms and legs, and head into the elevator to return to the loft.

Easy worked the knicks out as he got out the hovercraft.

Need a drink and a game...

Helll... Need to get laid....

His teeth clinched as he thought of Katie.

The run had been enough to make him forget about the pain for a little while.

Maybe that deck would lead to more runs.

He wanted to get very drunk, but that would be a sucker's bet.

And he wanted to be ready if anything did come up.

He headed back in to the club to get that drink and see what came his way.

<<1546, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, Los Angeles, PCC>>



On close examination, the eyes are replacements, and there’s a datajack bored into his skull behind one ear. His facial features are as fake as the profile broadcast from the Renraku commlink in his pocket, well crafted, but still discernable to the practiced eye. .The bottom of a brand peeks from under one shirt sleeve.

“Pleasure to meet you.�

Vice glances down at the logo on the cup in his hand. The fingers wrapped around it have the telltale scratches of a much more violent life than flip flops, expensive coffee, and garish sunglasses would imply.

“This one came from a spot two and a half blocks back that way. There might be better around here, but the concierge recommended it to me. Muffins aren’t bad either.�

<<03.47 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

A security consultant... and he looks like he got into a few scrapes...

"Your concierge can be trusted I believe."

Socialising with dangerous people is recommended for someone trying to break into P2.0 as a runner. DD walks with Vice down the street, to the cafe he indicated. She's already studying the menu on the cafe's node by the time they are one block away. Her smile is wider now, and her tone is, thanks to her voice modulator, underlining her french accent perfectly.

"So, are you visiting L.A.? On business or pleasure?"

DD's making light conversation while they walk, sounding out Vice's intentions, as well as discretely probing for hints about his wealth and possible connections. Upon arriving in the cafe she orders a Latte Machiatto.

(Leave it to me to commit the very mistake I call others on...new post here later.)

<<1546, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, Los Angeles, PCC>>

Shit. Forgot about the shoes. Who is this girl? Feels like I’m back in Miami.

“He’s done well so far. Last night, I told him I was looking for a place to party that wouldn’t saddle me with a swarm of bouncers the second I walked in, and he pointed me at the perfect spot downtown. Place called the Divine Comedy. Great dance party.�

Vice, still only halfway through his current coffee, orders a bran muffin and settles into a seat with a good view of the street and addresses the question about his working vacation.

“Both. That’s the fun part of being self employed. Until the next job comes along, I’m always on vacation. Downside is I’m always looking for the next contract, which kind of gets in the way of the vacation part. How about you? Based on your tan, I’m guessing you’ve been here a while.�

<<16.00 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

DD orders two muffins, chocolate and apple - her Dietware takes care of any excess calories - and takes a seat at the table, making sure she presents a nice front to both Vice as well as the street.

Some name dropping never hurts.

"Ah, yes. Jake's got a really nice club there. I dance there often."

Although more often in the Inferno...

Smiling, DD alternately takes a bite out of her two muffins while she drinks her Latte Machiato.

"Oh, yes, really good muffins. Mhh."

DD savors the taste while she chats.

"Yes, I've been 'ere some time. Great town, great weather."

DD wonders if Vice has been to the Inferno yet, or has been checking the AR and Matrix ads Jake put up - she's in some of them.

"What kind of contracts are you looking for?"

<<1546, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, Los Angeles, PCC>>

Vice slides down his sunglasses, making no effort to be discrete as he checks DD out. The catalog of names and faces from the night before scrolls by as he looks for a match.

“Typically, it goes something like this. Imagine you’ve got an obsessed fan. Not much of a stretch. You probably already do. But I mean really obsessed. Like following you home, making you fear for your safety, break into your home to eat your hair out of the drain level stuff. You hire a security company who goes through and beefs up all your locks and your alarm system, and gives you a bodyguard/driver, or possibly a group of them. You read their resumes and they all look good. They talk the talk and look the part. But if it turns out that the guys are hacks who spent four years in the UCAS Army shining their boots and watching Ares Firewatch teams do all the heavy lifting, you don’t want to find that out when the guy with the knifen and the mohawk comes rushing out of the crowd.�

Thrown slightly off his game, a bit of a north Florida drawl sneaks in as he talks.

“That’s where I’d come in. I fake a kidnapping or assassination attempt to study how your security responds and protects you. Once I’ve figure out where you’re vulnerable, I work with them to fix it, to make sure no one lays a hand on you that you didn’t put there yourself.�

He leans in closely and smiles.

“Inevitably, it comes up that someone wants me to grab someone or smuggle them away from their security detail for real. Fixing someone else’s slice might pay the mortgage, but going out and playing golf pays for vacations.�

Funny how the truth can sound like an embellishment.

<<16.02 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

Quite forward... he should fit right in into L.A..

"This sounds really dangerous..."

Although more often in the Inferno...

DD smiles at the scrutiny - flattering in a certain L.A. way - and has another thought.

"What do you do if a client ends up kidnapped?."

<<16.02 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

Vice pauses, derailed by a question that no one has ever asked him.

"Maybe I'm just lucky, but it's never come up. If I missed something and, god forbid, you got attacked, obviously, I'd come get you. After that, it gets treated like any other assessment. Find the gap in your security, and plug the gap. Probably stick around for a while to make sure that my advice got followed, and to make sure nothing else pops up."

I gotta remember to travel under another ID. This one is a pain in the ass when people start asking questions...

"But enough about me, and guns, and crazy people with knives. How'd you get in with the management at the Comedy? It's so out of place for the area that there must be a story there."

<<16.03 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

DD smiles when she answers Vice.

"Oh, I dance there. Knowing the management comes with the territory. The club 'as a good reputation, so people know about it."

He might be able to help finding Jess... at the very least, Jake might be interested in knowing about him, if he frequents the Club.

DD sends a short message to Jake, informing him about Vice, and what she heard from him, and asking if he knows him.

"So, are you looking to work for one of the big stars in L.A.?"

<<16.03 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

Vice raises an eyebrow.

"Who wouldn't be? Big stars throw the best parties."

Almost an afterthought, he tacks on one condition.

"No Azzies. Other than that, sure. I'll give anyone thirty seconds to make their pitch, especially in a town where no one knows who the hell I am."

Wonder how deep this rabbit hole goes...

<<16.03 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

DD reads the answers from Jake, then leans forward, lowering her voice some.

"Did you ever 'ave clients you wish you didn't 'ave? People that did not deserve to be protected?"

<<16.03 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

The traffic noise and the ambient sounds from back in the coffee shop fade as his ears turn up DD's voice.

"Never worried about it too much. I'm sure you've danced in front of people you weren't attracted to. If your heart isn't totally into it, you focus on just enjoying what you're doing for itself. Not that it's not a bonus to be making sure some piece of shit's nine year old doesn't get caught in the crossfire of her daddy's drug war."

<<16.03 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

DD nods at Vice's answer.

"But what if "Daddy" has a rival's nine year old kidnapped?"

DD's smile doesn't change much, but her voice and eyes show a slight change from discussing the weather, or a trideo show.

<<16.03 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

"That, I might have something to say about. Might have to do it by pointing out that kidnapping someone else's kids puts his own at risk. If that doesn't work, there are always other options."


How the hell did I get from buying a girl coffee to getting grilled on my professional ethics?


"Bet you didn't think you'd be asking a tourist about a kidnapped drug kingpin's children when you woke up this morning."

<<14.25 PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, West Hollywood, L.A.>>

After leaving the Comedy Pura headed home, and divested herself of her running equipment. If they were going to meet up that night she'd have to add a few items to her bag, or maybe instead she'd reverse it, and carry her armor and gear in the bag while she wore her civvies so that she'd have something to change into and out of if things went that way. The changeling wasn't able to quite meet her brother's eye when he met her at the door, but she did have a big grin at the thought of all the money she had made in just one night.

The violet haired pixie filled her brother in on everything that had happened, leaving only the private celebrations up in the loft out of things, he could be very protective of her, and it wasn't really his business anyway. She headed into her room, popped a morning after pill to be safe, and then took a warm refreshing shower. Once she had finished that and gotten dressed in a pair of kahki cargo pants, a blue tank top, and a button up gold short sleeve top she had made an appointment to see the guy holding her marker for the mob. It was going to be nice getting out from under that, even if it hadn't been that much, the though of missing a payment to the mob, and the possibe late uh...fees, it was more than enough for her to want to pay it all off immediately.

<<16.00PM, Tuesday, October 21st, 2070, Vinnie's Steaks West Hollywood, L.A.>>

Pura arrived a few minutes early to the resturant, she wasn't packing much in the way of weaponry, only a clip of gel rounds in her Predator, then again she ddn't expect things to go wrong, and if they did, shooting up members of the mob wasn't going to make things any better. "Please tell Vinnie that his 4 O'clock is here to see him." she told the hostess, and then took a seat by the welcome desk to indicate that she'd wait.

After five minutes she is brought into the Manager's office,and she takes a seat across from Vinnie. "So what can I do for you today Miss Brighten?" the 40 something mobster asks, giving her his full, intimidating, attention. This was not a man to say no to, or to dissapoint. "Are you here to make a payment on your loan? Records indicate the interest for this month is 1,500 Nuyen."

"I'm actually here to pay the interest and all of the prinicpal." Pura says with a smile, turning on the charm, she wanted this man to have no reason to find any fault with her, no matter how miniscule. "Thats 16,500 here and now...how would you like me to pay it? To you...to the resturant?" the violet haired changeling asks, eager to please.

"Pay it to me directly...I'm actually a little surprised how did you make the money so quickly...Actually, don't tell me, I don't want to know so long as no one is going to come looking for it." Vinnie told her. "You seem like a pretty smart kid, and I have a daughter your age, so I'll tell you what I'd tell her. Coming to me looking for money is a bad thing, people that can't make the payments get very hurt, and I'd prefer not having to do that to you." Vinnie warned.

"I'll be careful, I promise...here, you should have it now." Pura assures the mobster, slightly surprised that he'd care enough to warn her off from using him again. She keys the transaction up and electronically sends him the 16,500. "Thanks Vinnie. I'll take your advice and try not to see you around...that doesn't mean I wont stop in for a steak every now and then though." she says with a grin, and excuses herself, heading back home.

<<Sam>>
<<Its done, paid Vinnie back the full amount, and he even warned me that borrowing money from the mob was a bad idea, and strongly suggested I avoid it. Big softy, he said he was giving me the advice since he had a daughter my age. Anyway. I'm going back to the Divine Comedy tonight since it looks like this could turn into a lot of very profitable runs>>