Hey ravensoracle, can you give us an update on the status of this game?

Well, it looks like four of the nine, Bongo, Flax, Tristan and Kit have invested strongly in both the Stealth and Influence Groups, and several other characters have one or the other covered. (Pink Mohawk looks unlikely for his crowd.)

Infiltration may well become one of our team specialties.

We're also a very magical team, with a bunch of adepts, mystic adepts, and mages.

Indeed, there are only two mundanes in the group, and one of them is an AI. Tristan's skill set fits in, though, since he has pretty good social and stealth skills.

We're a regular Ocean's 11 meets charmed

LAWL. That is great.

12:30 "Ion Eyes" Dance club, Downtown Seattle

The trog cabbie chuckled to himself as he watched Max in the backseat cam. Max slid a slick silver comm from his suit jacket and quickly laid a line of novacoke across the back of it. It wasn't a second before it vanished into his face and the comm was back in his jacket. Max knew the driver could see, but he was also certain he didn't care. This place was the newest drek on the strip and old Max wanted to do it up right. The line at the door trailed off into the distance. Way past Max's attention span. He walked straight to the door. The two bouncers bristled at his approach. THeir body language told him that he wasn't the first to try the express lane. A bribe wouldn't buy him a soft landing in the street. As he got within ear shot he struck up an imaginary conversation on his comm,"No, Don't call the cops yet, I'll talk to the doorman, Its protocol if you want this to stand up in court" He looked to the bigger of the two goons with a stern confidence,"you in charge of maintaining this line? It's impededing other businesses down there. I'm giving you one chance and sixty seconds to remedy the problem, then I'm suing this place into the ground"
The man was stunned. This was not what he expected at all. He turned to his partner and told him to watch the door, then he headed down the line to see what the problem was. One down , Max began to focus hard on the second sentry of this party blockade. He was going through the mental preparation in his head, and summoning the magical resources to complete the task,"I'm sorry, how rude of me, the name is Allen Bundy" he reached out to the man for a handshake, and the guy responded without thinking. As their hands clasped, Max released the arcane force from within. It silently rippled through their fingers straight to the mans brain, crushing all understanding of social interaction. he stood dumbfounded, unable to act. Max continued into the club as the bouncer stared blankly at the next guy in line.

I like him!

thanks, but I think in a real game, that scene would have taken a couple of edge rolls especially if the bouncer had a charisma higher than 2. anybody else want to crash the party?

12:30 "Ion Eyes" dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Lucretia, the woman who got him in here tonight, was beautiful. Even better, she knew her music. Trouble was, the music in here was not worth knowing. Bongo winced at the strained rhythm as once again the drummer tried to bring the rest of the band back to where the song should have been. Valiant effort, but a failure. The singer was racing, and the guitarist was trying to catch her.

"I know." Lucretia commiserated, "He's the one I wanted you to hear. The rest of the band could fall down a hole for all I care, but the drummer shows prospect. I can't take it. I'm off to the powder room." She rose smoothly and wove through the crowd as if they were a field of grain.

"Oh, what a lucky man, he was.." Bongo sang to himself. He set the music on a back channel in his mind, and scanned the crowd. Keep sharp, at all times. Seattle's glitterati, tasting the club of the moment, were jammed tight and rocking to (despite?) the band. Here a banker, still in his corp finest, held court with his underlings and spent like there was no tomorrow. Somebody else's money for sure. There some youngsters barely old enough to get in were getting drunk, quickly.

Boring.

But look... over there by the door. A shark enters the fish tank, and the unsuspecting draw closer, not away. Oh, there are so many here for him to choose from. This could be fun! Bongo would have to point him out to Lucretia when she returned.

12:30 "Ion Eyes" dance Club, Downtown Seattle

As Pyro parked her bike in back of the club in the VIP spot (well, technically on the line between VIP spots), she hopped off and headed around to the front just in time to see some guy trick one bouncer round the back and magic his way past the second. She shook her head, and headed past the line herself, towards the now stunned bouncer. All the people in the line started to protest then stopped when they saw her, beautiful by human standards and dressed in a Zoe Second Skin that was tinted dark purple at the moment, covered only by her long duster from riding, her long black hair showing streaks of blood red tonight.

She stopped at the bouncer, looking him over as the second one came back, shouting to her "HEY YOU, STOP THAT, WHAT'VE YOU DONE?" To which she simply looked up at him, glaring, before turning back to his partner. "Someone fried his mind. Looks like it's just a basic bit of persuasion magic, should wear off soon. I'll go tell Dana, you stay here and don't let anyone else in." The bouncer nodded at first then had the thought that she was someone trying to sneak past him and grabbed her arm, which earned him a second glare, this time focusing mana about her eyes, nothing actually of much use, just a cheap bit of flash, but sometimes flash worked wonders. "If you don't let go of my arm, I will do worse to you than Dana ever has, and then when I tell her, she'll have her run with you too. She's expecting me already, and you're making me late. Let..... go...... NOW!!!"

The bouncer, shocked, let go of her arm and she stomped on through, not bothering to leave her coat at the coat room as she slipped through the club, passing a woman on her way to the powder room to avoid the horrible music. Pyro quickly headed for the back corner, a VIP booth where she knew Dana was, and slipped inside, thankful for the sound filtering materials blocking out the horrible music. Slipping into the booth, she came to a stop next to a rather large female troll who was sipping wine and smoking a cigar sized cigarette. "Dana, your bouncers are idiots. Watched one of em get mind fried with a bit of magic while the other got tricked away, and then I slipped in with just a bit of flash and harsh words. I'd hoped your choice in people would be better than your taste in music, at least." The troll laughed and looked at the short woman. "Ah, but those who get their way past the bouncers are the exact kind of people I want in here. As for the music, well, the sheep like it, and it keeps the money flowing. You know me. Here's your added payment from the last Johnson, datachips I'm told." An envelope was tossed across the table to Pyro, who took it and nodded, leaning back and looking out at the club through the vid screens.

12:35 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Lucretia flowed back into the booth with him. "Bongo, you sly dog! Are you working tonight, when we're on a date?"

"I have no intention of playing with these hacks."

"No, no. I mean your other work."

He hesitates. "Damn, she's good. I wonder if she's in the business, too. I wonder what else she's keeping from me." "No. Why do you ask?"

"A striking woman, straight out of the trids, just snuggled up with Dana in a back booth. I know Dana does some shady business besides this club, and I know you do too. I just added 2 and 2."

"Not tonight, sweetheart. I'm all yours. Though, now that you mention it, take a look at the shark over there." He indicates the new arrival he has been watching. "Tonight seems to be some kind of convergence. Let's watch what happens." Bongo takes note of the man up front, and zooming his optics onto the woman in the booth with Dana, memorizes her too. Bad angle, though. He will have to wait for a clearer image.Keeping track of two people at opposite ends of the club. Finally something interesting to do... other than Lucretia, of course.

The music thrashes on, refusing to die a deserved death.

"Let's make the best of the music and dance." Lucretia offers.

"No way, not to this."

"Damn you musicians. Either you're playing, or you like the music and just want to listen, or you hate it and don't want to have anything to do with it."

He reconsiders. "Alright. Let's try." They slide out of the booth and join the mob. As they dance, Bongo keeps track of the two newcomers, waiting.

12:36 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Kit sipped on her Lemon Drop waiting for her "appointment" watching the club astrally.

"Nothing like an extra 30 pounds and a hint of a mustache to cut down on offers to buy you a drink. Course that waitress kept making eyes at her."

So many colors and emotions. So much desperation.

Kyoko whispered "Watch this Sister."

Kit's point of view changed to outside the club to where she could see the long line waiting to get in, just in time to see the spell casted.

"Nice."

Kit's lips twitched as the bouncers... bounced a round mentally if not physically.

"Thank you Kyoko. I needed a laugh... What tradition do you think...."

Then she saw Pyro bluff her way past. "Well maybe bluff would be the wrong word...."

12:35 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Max scaned the room with a smile. The drums in the club seemed to push the coke in his system to the next level. The sweeping colored lights rolled over the sea of people churning from one end to the other. This is moment. Clubs on opening night have forty percent more people than they ever will again, and those peolpe are twenty-two percent richer and nineteen percent more intoxicated. The math never lied. He looked over the crowd like cattle at the auction; The kids in their cheep trendy gear, glowing in body paint and mods of all kinds, throwing around their parents cred. It was literally candy in the hands of babies. A banker crowd, of which only one was in a tax bracket worth talking to. He would definately cover the rent this month for a little coke and one of those girls with the neon cleavage. A few local Sim starlettes and their entourage and the downtown socialites, both crowds just leaked money. 20k, 45k, 30k. every head had a number, but he puased in his accounting. There were a few anomolies. A man heading to the dance floor seemed to have a very subtle eye on Max. He didn't get the whole picture at a glance there, but Max knew by the way he caried himself that there was more to this guy than a simple mark. He watched the man slide his eyes past his date to a booth on the far side. Hello, whats this? A thin thing in a Zoe' number hugging the curves. Seemed like the VIP section, And this woman was also too cool for a hot night club. This night might be even more lucrative than he had anticipated. He adjusted his own Zoe' suit, an irredescent black and orange number taylored this morning, as he shifted his gaze to the realm of magic. The colored lights overhead went dark as the people themselves lit up to take their place. And the two parties of interest were especially bright. Max was still new to this world of auras, but he was pretty sure that these two were magical. Not only that, but there was another bright star in this sky. A woman near the bar. After his slow progress yesterday to branch out into the magical community, he felt as if he stumbled into a bit of luck here. Max reached into his pocket and rubbed the face of his old "Rolex" with his thumb as he headed towards the VIP's. This was getting interesting.
Max slid across the floor with a walk that danced. He slid right past the magic man, who up close, had a real musician vibe. as he passed his ear he said,"Don't you think we should be at the big table?". Without stopping he approached the women at the booth,"Hello ladies, can I assume one of you two powerful, yet deadly attractive women own this dance factory? "

12:36 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Lucretia leaned in close, moving an exquisite, intimate counterpoint to the drummer's beat. "OK. Now I know you aren't telling me everything. That man just said something to you. What did he say? What's going on?" With the last word she smiled impishly and bumped Bongo with a hip check worthy of a hockey player. Which, of course, made sense.

"Honestly, I don't know anything. I believe I've just been invited to play, though. Let's just keep dancing while I watch what's going on."

Bongo opened his senses to the astral. A tricky thing in a crowd like this. Too much emotion, slathered with lust. Hard to tell much. But the 'shark' showed the spark, for sure. "OK, that explains part of it. He probably senses me, too." Broadening his gaze, he catches the woman at the booth and another at the bar, also Awakened. So many in one place?

The song ended, but was segueing into another. Taking the break as an opportunity, Bongo steered Lucretia towards their booth. "Sweetness, I think we need to sit this one out."

"I knew it! You're working! All that baloney about just us two and an evening to remember. Stringing me a line just like Blake used to do. I thought you were different. When... and IF ... you ever decide to give me your full attention, give me a call. MAYBE I will give you another chance." She grabbed her stole and stormed out of the club, without a glance back.

Bongo stood by their table and watched her go. He had kept his senses open. He didn't like what he saw in her aura. This was going to be expensive to repair.

"Oh well. Let's see what goes down with the shark." He sat with his drink and watched the booth, keeping an 'eye' on the lady at the bar, too.

Not sure if this group has space, seems like there's a full or nearly full plate already. But if there's space for one more all these IC intro posts have gotten my brain moving a bit. Could have a character together before too terribly long.

yea, this game is starting to feel like a false start

At the risk of poking my nose where it doesn't belong... I think ravensoracle lost a friend recently. He may be recovering slowly.

In the meantime, we seem to be getting some play in anyway!

true,
I'm sorry to be insensitive. or inpatient. I just had nothing better to post.

Well, maybe SleepIncarnate could play Dana too for the time being. That way we could continue the encounter. Whaddaya say, SI?

(Oooh. "Say, SI" . That sounds like a good name for a Trid show.)

Sorry, been busy last couple days, preparing for an upcoming deployment to the sandbox, for bout 8-9 months. Should have net still though. Will try and post something up later tonight after I finish my ice cream, and if not tonight then tomorrow. On a plus side, I'm proud of myself today, so here's some pics to share the fun. M-4 and M-9 training all day, pics are of my M-9 target. 45 rounds fired, all hit.

Basically, this was me.

http://www.afblues.com/?p=213

http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o269/Sl...ate/Target1.jpg
http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o269/Sl...ate/Target2.jpg

I even gave him a frowny face.

12:35 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

As Max slid into the booth, the conversation stopped. Pyro gave a nod towards Max that told Dana that he was the one she'd mentioned. The large troll woman, once a runner herself, leaned forward a bit to look him over before relaxing back into the booth again. "And what makes you ask that? Usually the owner works in an upstairs office, free from the noise and the crowds." Meanwhile, Pyro shifted her gaze into the astral to try and ascertain the stranger's motives, and also confirming that he was magical. Looking over her shoulder at the way he had come, she noticed that the person he stopped to talk to also had that glimmer of light that stood out from the ebb and flow of emotions in the air. And interestingly enough, so did someone over by the bar. Hmm.... so many in one place. Are they a magical team here on a run? Are they after me, or Dana? She slipped the packet of data chips into an interior pocket of her coat and rested her hands on the table, just in case she had to fight or run.

12:37 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Hello. She's looking at me. That's better. Now I have a face to remember. But that aura of hers. Slippery as an eel. The other two seem playful. Dancing repartée. Feeling each other out."

Bongo raises his glass to the woman in the booth studying him. "Let's see if she wants me to come over, too." Bongo tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. As obvious as it can get. He hopes she doesn't think it's a clumsy pickup attempt. Since she's astral, he concentrates on a sense of curiosity and play.

12:37 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

She raised an eye at him as he raised his glass to her, then continued scanning the crowd, looking for any accomplices they may have. This much magic in here, she wasn't sure if just she and Dana could handle it, not that she doubted Dana's abilities. One didn't retire as a runner unless they were so damn good they didn't need to run anymore. But 3 magical types here showing an interest in them, plus who knew how many mundanes.... she glanced over to Dana to see her reaction, but it seemed Dana was waiting on the one here to respond.

12:38 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Tristan, ensconced in one of the small booths overlooking the teeming dance floor, keeps a neutral look on his face with some conscious effort. Normally, he shies away from these noisy spectacles, but tonight, he is here on business, and the raucous opening night provides privacy that doesn't draw any attention to itself.

His club attire clashes slightly with that of the slender elven woman sitting across from him, with feathery short-cropped dark hair, and a severe business suit, although a ruffled blouse rescues the ensemble from looking too androgynous. Molly is smirking slightly. She is one of the more level-headed players out there despite her sometimes ditzy facade, but she still likes to demonstrate her clout sometimes. Such as getting them a booth in a hot new club, on its opening night.

"So how did the exchange go? Did everyone play all nice?" There is a bit of a playful lilt to Molly's voice.

A wry grin flits across Tristan's face. "Yeah, it was kind of funny. Most of them were cautious, but reasonable, but this one guy there, freelance talent. He knew me from that job that went south, when those Cutter punks tried pulling their Uzis on my crew. Whole meet, he's watching me like he's expecting me to bust into a killing spree. They should know I don't start that stuff."

Molly smiles impishly. "Hey, you're good at talking, you're good when talking isn't going to cut it. Guess that's gonna give you a bit of a schizophrenic rep."

She slides a credstick across the table to him. "But hey, a job's a job, and it went smooth, for a change. That's about as good as it gets, in this biz."

Tristan chuckles and nods as he discretely pockets the credstick. He makes a bit more bantering small talk with the fixer before slipping out of the booth. He walks along the periphery of the dance floor, an attractive but still innocuous-looking ork. Well, as long as he's here, maybe he'll see if there's some wide-eyed slumming corp girl that he can pick up...

Suddenly, a collision on the dance floor starts a chain reaction that sends a woman careening towards him. He acts on instinct, catching her before she can hit the floor, and snagging her drink out of the air before it can spill. "Are you all right, miss?" The woman looks up at him, slightly dazed looking.

A few people nearby laugh uncomprehendingly. But he's sure there are more perceptive eyes watching the scene. "Great. Just wonderful. Couldn't be helped, I guess. But to anyone who knows what to watch for, I've all but announced that I'm a wired-to-the-hoop sammmie."

12:37 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

The two woman's body language told Max infinitely more than the astral sight could. The lack of irritation at his complement told him that they were expecting more than to be hit on. The secret signals to each other, and the measured apprehension was a special blend of paranoia and professionalism found almost exclusively in the shadows. The human girl looked to Max and then the dance floor. Either his dancing friend is working with her, or she has noticed his talent as well.Max hoped he wasn't walking into the middle of some business here. It was a good possibility, but he was too high to think about it, and it's too late now.
In response to the troll's question, Max let a mild look of surprise slide across his face,"Actually, I had no idea you were the owner. I just said it as a unique compliment, and a conversation starter, but if you are the owner, then this becomes much more interesting". Without pause in the conversation he slowly opens his jacket to reveal his comlink and begins to order a drink. He doesn't look at the comm or skip a beat in his banter as he dials up a Buzz and Vodka,"This place is nice, but what the critics down there, frowning at the band, are missing is the fact that this place seems to be a magnet for talented individuals. I mean, I came here purely for entertainment, but I find myself talking turkey to a couple of people that can get stuff done am I right? I myself happen to be a 'can do' guy. I've spent many years making many people rich, and some of those people want me to branch out. Expand the horizon so to speak. So I gotta ask, Are you ladies in the middle of anything serious, or can we take a moment to think... bigger " He let his glimmering white teeth smile across his tan face. the smile lines accentuated by the hint of blond stubble that gave him that neat, yet rugged look.
Max's conversation is interrupted ever so slightly as he watches the waitress with his drink get knocked halfway to the floor. What gave the chat pause was the man that stopped her rendezvous with head trauma and managed to snag the drink out of the air without spilling a drop. "Is this another associate of yours Milady?"

12:37 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Well, well, well. First I find some glitter, now the chrome." Bongo considers whether to get out while he's still alive or join the party. Aww... hell.

He orders up the AR waiter and sends a drink of his choice to the fast ork and a request to join him at his table. Let's see what happens. Heh! Since the date with Lucretia has gone south, he might as well keep the cash flowing. He sends a similar offer and request to the Awakened woman sitting by herself. "I wonder who will bite."

[OOC: added poetry to Bongo's character description -- see post #154 for link]

12:30 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
[Aura: Mundane, Calm]

Flax had been in Seattle for less than six hours, but already two of his better leads had turned out to be dead ends. As far as he was concerned, the first order of business when arriving in a new town was to seek out a friendly face, one that could help you get set up and point you in the direction of the local movers and Johnsons. But already Flax's short list of contacts was down to casual acquaintances and friends of friends.

Next on the list was a con man named Max Broman, who was considered to be a pretty heavy hitter in this town, but with whom Flax's only contact was during a goldbricking job several years ago. Not a bad Boesky, but a bit flashy for Flax's taste. Case in point, the quite direct manner with which he worked the doormen at the club Flax had tailed him to. Effective, but not very subtle. Still, his options were dwindling, and a friendly face is a friendly face. Flax was able to slip in unnoticed a few moments later while the bouncer was being yelled at by a woman who by her words gave Flax good reason to suspect that she was some sort of magician.

Once inside, Flax melted into the crowd. He'd come prepared in the latest club ware, darkened his skin to a cool chocolate brown, and assumed a nondescript visage. The silver spikes of his fauxhawk caught the dancing lights on the dance floor, drawing attention away from his face. His look was carefully crafted to be neither too flashy nor too dull, nothing to prevent him from blending seamlessly into the mob of club goers dressed to the nines.



12:38 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

A short time later, Flax carefully watches as Broman circles the lady magician like a man on the prowl. As he observed, he takes careful control of his emotions and eye movements, mindful of lingering stares or anything else that might betray excessive attention. He was also careful to keep his perceptions focused on the physical, lest he garner the same type of attention as the elf at the bar, or the human trying to pick up the lady magician from clear across the club. By their far-off looks, it is a safe bet that they see in her the same thing that Max obviously does.

Just as Flax begins to appreciate how unlikely a group Ion Eyes seems to have attracted this evening, he spots another familiar face, a corp mercenary who once presided over the other side of a back alley exchange in Los Angeles a while back. Flax wore a different face for that job, of course, but this merc’s face look to have change a bit in the passing years as well. When the merc sets off to cross the dance floor, Flax decides that a bit of a test is in order to make sure that he isn't mistaken. He slides a bit too close to an overly exuberant dancer who isn’t paying much attention to the wild swings of his arms, purposefully taking an elbow to the gut and rolling hard with the impact. He collides with a second dancer, his momentum sending the second dancer careening into a young lady directly in the path of the merc.

Doesn't look like he's lost a step, Flax thinks to himself after watching the merc's catch. He uses the distraction to slip closer to the lady magician's table.

12:38 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Oh! There's another Awakened one near the chromed guy. Wait a minute. There's something about his aura. Something familiar. Who is this guy?"

Bongo wracks his prodigious memory. The closest he can come to is Runs-with-Tricks, but this guy is not RT. But there are similarities in the auras. Traditions similar? Maybe a common teacher? "What the hell is going on in this place tonight?"

12:39 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Tristan is not really surprised when another one of the waitresses comes up to him with a drink, and an invitation to come over to one of the tables. Looks like someone noticed the preternatural reaction time that he just demonstrated. Hell, the entire incident might have been staged to confirm someone's suspicions.

He walks over to the table, drink in hand - best to confront whatever the situation is head-on. The guy at the table is hard to read, but something about him makes him think he's involved in the biz somehow.

"Wonder what the story is? Someone looking to hire, someone wanting to warn me off their turf, or maybe some fellow talent wanting to exchange business cards?"

Visually, he doesn't present that many clues to Bongo as he nonchalantly approaches the table. Indeed, if it hadn't been for the reflexes he had just demonstrated, he would blend right in with the crowd. It's almost chilling. Most sammies that Bongo has met stand out a lot more.

Astrally, it's another story. Tristan is so riddled with implants that he seems more machine than man, with the jarring darkness of cybernetic implants and the smudge of bioware all but overwhelming his aura. Mentally, he seems remarkably well-adjusted for such a heavily augmented individual. He seems to be feeling a slight wary curiosity, but no inclination towards violence at the moment. There is still that slight inner coldness, that aloofness from unaugmented humanity, that Bongo has seen in most low-Essense individuals, though.

12:39 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Given the situation, Bongo understands that something may be going down in the room right now, and that this man may be part of it, but Bongo is just in that kind of mood to stick his nose into whatever is going on. Wisdom is lost on the young, and Bongo throws caution to the wind. On the other hand, if drek hits the fan, being across the room from one such as this would be no real protection, but having him right beside Bongo puts him in range of Bongo's skills, and might give an assailant a second target, and someone in the booth who might take umbrage at being shot at... and shoot back.

Bongo rises and offers his hand to Tristan when he comes over with the drink Bongo sent him. "Thanks for coming over. I'm called Bongo Slade. This is a bit extraordinary, for you as much as it is for me, I'm sure, but there appears to be some interesting happenings in the club tonight, and seeing as you appear to be a man ... of action .... I thought you might be interested in having a drink with me and watch the goings on. It could be entertaining. Forgive me if I'm getting in the way of work for you."

Assuming Tristan sits down with him, Bongo continues, moving over in the booth to allow both of them clear view of the room. He offers some information as a 'bonus' for coming over. "There is an amazing number of magically active people in the club tonight. One over by the bar, one who started the 'accident' you so adeptly countered, who is moving over closer to two more in the booth in the back. Yes, the booth with the striking troll woman. Oh... and as you might have guessed, myself.

"You want some munchies while we watch?"

Alas poor Max, for I knew him Horatio.

Come on over to my table. I'll talk with you.

12:40 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Dana merely raised an eyebrow at him, before shaking her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. And even if I did, I doubt it's something to be discussed so openly. So if you don't mind...." And then she nodded towards the outside of the booth, as a sign of dismissing him. "And take your gracefully clumsy friend over there with you."

Meanwhile, Pyro was watching the fiasco on the floor, her astral sight only confirming her suspicions as she saw the massive hole in the man's soul indicating that he was heavily cybered. This only confirmed her suspicions of a team here, and she was glad to see Dana dismissing this one. They'd be foolish to try and jump them here, but some teams were fools.

12:40 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

Tristan is polite but slightly wary as he comes over, although it only shows in subtle signs of alertness - on the surface, he seems as genial and unassuming as before. He takes the offered hand, and shakes his head in a slight negative at the last statement.

"No, I'm not on the proverbial clock tonight."

His eyes track the awakened people who are pointed out to him with subtle intensity. As Bongo watches his aura, he doen't sense the burst of pique he might be expecting (when he tells Tristan his 'accident' really wasn't), but a more satisfied emotion, an "Ah-ha, I was right," moment.

He smiles slightly at the last question. "Dinner and a show, huh? Well, why not?"

"At least until I get a better idea what's going on here," he amends to himself. He isn't as phobic about the awakened as some, but they still merit a respectful caution. If a power struggle within the awakened community is about to break out here, he'll have to be careful to stay out of the crossfire.

12:41 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

All work and no play... what is it with these magic types?

Max looks at Dana with the seriousness of a hardened professional. He lets his change in demeanour settle into her soul for a moment, just to let her know he was no fool.

"Well then, I'll take my leave.Oh, and as for the guy on the dance floor. I don't know the guy down there, but I think I will soon." He glances from one lady to the next as a smile creeps back into his gaze,"you can never have too many friends"
Max winks and heads down to the other table of interest. He glides to the table with teeth gleaming in the strobe lights,"Women hey. can't live with 'em, and you can't get a drink around here to save your life. Hi, the names Max. Max Broman. Mind if I join you?"

12:41 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"Bongo Slade", he says, standing to shake Max's hand. "Please do join us. My new acquaintance here just joined me, we haven't had the chance to exchange names. We're just settling in to have a bite to eat and see what happens here tonight. There seems to be a confluence of 'talent' in the club tonight. I figure we may be treated to a show of one kind or another. We actually thought you were part of the show." *sheepish grin*

12:41 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle
[Aura: Mundane (masking), Calm (kinesics)]

Flax flows through the crowd like water, sliding unobtrusively into Max's path as he crosses the dance floor. Without making eye contact, he discretely drops a disposable commlink into one of Max's pockets, then heads for the back of the club. Once out of sight, he triggers the link's audible alert with the following message:

<Forgive the intrusion. I do not mean to disrupt the operation that you have yourself engaged in this evening, but I wanted to let you know that I am here in Seattle, looking for work. If you have some time to talk, I'm buying. Also, I do not know the nature of your meeting this evening, but in case you haven't yet acquainted yourself with the people at your table, I can pass along that the ork is a Hyundai company man, or at least he was the last time I ran across him. - Flax>

12:41 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, Downtown Seattle

"It's not for lack of trying Bongo, let me assure you. I actually came here for a little partying, maybe fleece the high rollers just a tad, but the number of wolves to sheep in here has piqued my interest" As the mysterious comlink sounds off, max checks it as if it was his own, his attention fully devoted to the text and the live conversation at the same time.
"Thats the club owner in the booth, with her smaller, more mysterious friend. They're giving me the I don't know nothin bit" Max looked to the orc"you sir are very handy with a highball, might I have the pleasure" He extended a hand to the man as he thought back to a slippery conman from up north that helped him milk a small brokerage firm outa some serious cred. that was a good time, and Max was pretty sure this was a good omen.

12:42 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, downtown Seattle

"I notice the instigator of the collision moving ever closer to the table at the back you just left.

"I'm sorry, the music interfered with my hearing for a moment, I didn't catch your name."

"It didn't, he didn't give it, but the game is fun. And if the music doesn't improve soon, I will do something about that!"

12:42 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, downtown Seattle

Tristan smiles and shakes the offered hand. "I'm Tristan." The ork doesn't look dangerous - an oval face, large eyes, and slightly tousled brown hair give him a deceptively innocent appearance, aided and abetted by a subdued demeanor and a slightly hesitant-sounding voice. All of it likely a facade.

He looks thoughtful as Bongo points out the instigator of the collision moving towards the table Max just vacated. Trying to do some schmoozing of his own? Or were the people at the table the ones who put him up to that little test?

12:42 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, downtown Seattle

"Tristan, a pleasure" Sitting at the table, Max's mind is trying to cover all the angles, so far nobody seemed to be connected , or even working. Could this be a crazy coincidence?
Looking back to Bongo he flipped him one of his "Business cards". A silver tube loaded with a bump of Novacoke and an RFID tag that read: Max Broman, High finance/Low profile."Gentlemen, I'm a numbers man. I usually like to leave the "fate" talk to desperate gamblers and one night stands, but the odds of this run of the mill meat market having this much manpower hanging out with nothing to do is blowing my mind. I came here for a little pocket change, but I smell big money"

12:43 "Ion Eyes" Dance Club, downtown Seattle

Bongo checks out the 'calling card'. "Heh. Just what I need. Another addiction knocking on the door." He pockets the card for later 'examination'.

"I've learned to take chance with a grain of karma, and a healthy dose of opportunism. Already at this table we have a wide mix of skills that could be put to good use, if only we could find the right avenue. I think we need to put our heads together and see what lines of opportunity present themselves. This may include keeping our senses tuned to what else is going down here tonight. Watch the show, as it were."

Just as he says that, the singer once again rushes a song, the guitarist follows her, and the drummer, bless his heart, tries to keep the song from disintegrating centrifugally. Bongo can't take it any more. "Speaking of a show. Watch this. Once I start playing, the music will try to distract you or pull you in. I suspect the other standouts here tonight may react in a way that is informative. Keep an eye on them, please."

Bongo rises and threads his way to the stage. He swings around the side and approaches the drummer. A large man steps out of the shadows to block his way. "Step aside, I belong." Bongo says, in a voice that cuts through the music. The man seems confused and backs off a step or two. Bongo mounts the stage and sits beside the drummer who gapes at him and the security guard, yet keeps the beat.

"Excellent!" Bongo shouts in his ear. "Now listen to this!" Bongo takes a conga that sits idle beside the drum kit. He overlays a rhythm on top of the drummer's with a syncopation that is discordant but energizing. "When the singer goes off, add this, and it will shock her into listening to you. The guitarist will fall in line." It appears to work, as the trio now perform as one, rather than at odds.

Then Bongo calls the magic to enthrall the audience. His rhythm weaves into the song like sex in silk sheets. Almost every head in the room turns to the stage. The security guard starts grooving.

[OOC: Boy, do I know how to kill a thread!]

no way man, you were the main one trying to keep it alive!

So... Bongo's is the last post, so get cracking, gang!

As an aside, seeing as our prospective GM is either hors de combat or waiting in the sidelines, watching us, we are conducting an experiment here... GM-less role playing. How far can we take this? We could be The Revolution!

ravensoracle's not logged into the forum in a few weeks, not since he left for the funeral, which means either something happened on the way there or back, or he's still mourning.

Several people I've been playing with in the last few months have just faded away from DS. Don't know whether it's me or what.

I hope ravensoracle is OK, though.

Could just be that it's starting to warm up in the northern hemisphere (where most players are), so they spending less time inside online. Who knows?