Help - Search - Members - Calendar
Full Version: Atlanta 2070
Dumpshock Forums > Discussion > Welcome to the Shadows
Pages: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19
Here is the link to the OOC thread.
Staring out the window he thought, The sun rises as it as it has for thousands of years. It appears as if a ball of red and orange fire has come to set itself in the sky. I can understand why the ancients believed that it was either a god or the wheel of a god's chariot. Yes, Apollo must have been honored to have the sun as his symbol. He stares at his reflected green eyes, dark hair and aquiline nose. Yes, the statue should be added to my collection.

He notices that his reflection is marred by a streak in the glass of his penthouse apartment. Turning to his left, Marsden, have the glass cleaners fired.

A middle-aged man nods, Yes, sir. Will there be anything else sir?

Yes, have the car brought around, I want to take a drive.

Would you like the Benz, the Lamborghini or the Limo, Sir?

No, I want the other car.

Very good, Sir. He has business to attend to that does not bear him being noticed. I had best call Captain Hood over at the Star and remind him of his loyalties.
A non-descript car pulls out of the Druid Hills Country Club and heads back into town. Toward the back of the development where the less expensive but only slightly less impressive homes were located, a stocky dwarf stands watching through his curtains.

I know just the two that can pull this off. He picks up his comm to make the call when he is interrupted.

Digger, I'm getting cold.

It can wait until morning. With a smile on his face, Just stay in bed, I'll warm you up in a minute.
Looking into the glass, Dalton's head swam in the amber liquid contained therein. He looked up and across the bustling pub, listening to the throng of voices as they echoed in his head. He recognized any number of the people within, including Jenny. He's not quite sure why she caught his eye, but she did.

She was a pretty girl, though not drop dead gorgeous. She had a confidence though. A self assurance. She didn't need anyone and anyone she chose was lucky. Her eyes are deep green wells leading somewhere deep into her soul-

"Another one Tank?" Dalton looked up as Jimmy the owner and sometimes bartender of the Fire Cracker called Dalton by his street name.

Dalton, aka Tank, replied, "Youse knows I used to drives a tank?"

"Only heard that story a hundred times. Maybe you best call it a night Tank."

Dalton looked down at the glass, then lifted it to his lips and swallowed the remaining amount. He'd come here for a reason... What was it....? Oh yea, to talk to Tommy about work. He looked around when Jimmy's voice distracted him yet again.
"Another one?"

That was all it took for Dalton's train of thought to be derailed. "One for the's road my good barkeep."
The light streaked in the windows. Dalton pulled the covers over his face as if he was a vampire then grunted. Damn! Forgot to talk to Tommy!

He crawled towards the kitchen and slowly, deliberately assembled a cocktail of imitation tomato juice, powdered eggs, aspirin, ibuprofin, pepto-bismal and water. His own hanger remedy.

Looking over to the corner of the sun visible in the window he called out as if expecting an answer, "What the hell are you looking at?"
Eric sat in the park as warm spring wind blew through the trees. I think May is one of my favorite months. He watched a group of teens playing a game of football over his left shoulder and an addict scoring whatever his chemical needs are over his right. Not my battle.

He turned and looked across the street at the store fronts and the throng of people walking up and down the street going about their business. The Osco sign reminded him to get some floor cleaner on the way home.

Looking further down the street his eyes stop at the metahuman outreach center that opened recently. It is with some nostalgia that he looks at this building, feeling that had some small part in its creation by changing the path of its founders. After a moment of pride, like a god-parent feels, he got up and headed down the street to the bus stop.

He located a seat in the back and slid in. He occupied his mind with the buildings, streets and people they passed as he rode across town to his transfer. A quarter hour wait and he was off again to his final destination.

Just before arriving, obscured by the seats and in the back of the bus, Eric washed a wave of mana across his body causing his cloths to shift and meld. They changed from the street clothes common to the majority of the population to more trendy shamanistic appearing clothes. He stepped off the bus, crossed the street and walked down the block to a little shop called "Moon & Stars".

Bolo greeted him with a wave and smile, "I got a copy of Mountain Man in a City today."

He'd been waiting for a copy of that. It is a printed copy of the memoirs of an eagle shaman who traveled the cities of the CAS in the early 60's. His insights on air spirits are rumored to be very thought provoking.

As Bolo approaches he notes for a moment the baggy clothes she wears and her gaze on him. A small smile slipped out as he realized she was assensing him. For now, he had decided to keep his secret. She would probably see the spell signature residue on his clothes, but she was on her own to determine the root cause of it.
He left the shop, the new book tucked into his the large, inside pocket in his vest. I like that spell more and more each day.

He elected to walk the short distance home. Looking at the time in AR, he realized he needed to stop lolli-gagging and move with a purpose. He had a meeting with Tanya tonight to discuss a little tidbit of information he learned about the a certain councilmen earlier in the week. He thought about Tanya's attractive form and melodic voice. Perhaps tonight would be the night he asked her out... or perhaps like every other meeting before, not....
There is a text message on the comms for both Eric and Tank.

>>>09-MAY-2070, 0312<<<
Your dinner reservations at Casita Mia have been confirmed for 1900. Please remember that dress is business casual. Mr. Johnson sends his regards and says that he may be delayed a bit.

- Reservation Confirmations, a Double D subsidiary.
Eric stops and looks at the message. Tonight was gonna be the night... Really... He proceeds into his apartment and sits down at the table.
<<@Tanya [Book] Tanya - I fear I must beg for a rain check. Circumstances have conspired against us and I'm am being called away to work.>>
By the middle of the afternoon, Dalton had made his way to Reilly's Diner. He was relishing in having a few minutes to make time with Jenny. The call insured that he wouldn't be making any time this evening.

He finished his sandwich, paid and lingered a moment. He almost started spouting a choice piece of Latin poetry. A customer entering the cafe snapped him out of his stupor and herded him on his way.
Tank picked up Book from the little coffee shop on Marshal at 1800 prompt.

The shaman was dressed in khakis and a polo, his armor jacket over his arm. Book looked at the worn jeans and t-shirt Tank was wearing. "What are you wearing?"

The former soldier looked over. "Casual clothes.. what are you wearing?"

The shaman shook his head. "This is casual... that is street..."

Tank started to argue yet again, then realized his clothes were changing. He raised an eyebrow, "Those were my favorite pants... This better not be permanent.."

Book simply sat back and smiled, then looks back over to the driver for one last statement that would insure silence for the rest of the drive. "You drink anything other than water tonight.... I'll turn you into a worty old woman who looks like she just fell out of Oz...."

Tank considered his options, none good. Worse yet he was not only sure Book could do it but he probably would... The only question left was, But would it be permanent like the change to the clothes...?
The duo arrived at Casita Mia with a full 15 minutes to spare. Tank began to take his Ares but again, a stern look from Book and that idea was also quashed. "You're not gonna let me have any fun, are you?"

Book doesn't even answer as the pair head to the front door.
Casita Mia is one of the nicer restaurants in the downtown area. The menu is a mix of Southern, Cajun and of course Mexican food. Residing on the ground floor of a large and expensive apartment complex, Casita Mia is well cared for and very clean. The decay evident in other areas of downtown is noticeably absent.

The valet takes Tanks' keys and gestures toward the door. The doorman smiles at the pair of them as he opens the door. His eyes linger on Tank for a moment more than is comfortable.

The hostess is wearing a form fitting black dress and a million megawatt smile. She asks, Reservations?
Book starts to speak up, but Tank begins to use some of his newly acquired social graces with the waitress after noticing the disapproving glances to this point. Tank smiles a genuine smile and moves slightly closer, though not enough to make her uncomfortable.
"Sweetheart, we are here for the Johnson party... Were you on the trid-show CAS Next Top Model?"

Book rolls his eyes a bit at Tank's efforts to cheese into her graces. At least he's not ordering drinks...
She smiles at the compliment. Ah, yes. Her too blue eyes loose focus as she checks the AR guest list. OK, here you are. Josiah P. Johnson has a booth for seven o'clock. Please wait a moment and allow me to ensure that it is ready. Would you gentlemen like a drink or cocktail while you wait?
Tank starts with a "Y-"...

...only to be cut off by Book, "Water with lemon with be wonderful." He looks to Tank as he talks to her, "For both of us."

Tank turns to the shaman not happy at being cut off. However, the lack of humor on Book's face convinces him to remain quiet... for the moment.
Very good. Please follow me. She leads the two through the restaurant to a booth near the back, away from the kitchen along the exterior wall. The booth has a good view of the kitchen as well as the front door.

I'll have your drink brought right out. Please review the AR menu and let your server know if you have any questions.
Tank steps up ahead of Book to follow the comely hostess through the restaurant, admiring her svelte figure with each sashay of her hips. As he passes a table where the occupants are enjoying a martini, he nearly reaches out to grab of the drinks off the table. Focus on the job.. Focus on the job..... He smiles as he comes to a compromise.. Celebrate after we get the retainer.

Book on the other hand is losing his patience with his partner's cravings. He noticed the man's gaze stray from the backside of the hostess to the glasses and linger a moment too long. The man has a problem... A serious problem.

The two sit at the table, Tank thanking her with a smile and a wink.
A young man brings water to the table. He says, Annette will be here in a minute. With that the young ork heads back tot he kitchen.

About five minutes later a plump, middle-aged elf comes over to the table. In a thick southern drawl she says, Good evenin'. My name's Annette and I'll be taking care of y'all tonight. Mr. Johnson called to say that he is stuck in traffic and will be here in a few. He told me to tell y'all to go order and order what ya want of the menu - he's got the bill. I'd say to order the fillet o'catfish if you asked me. She smiles and waits for their answers.
Book smiles. Catfish. Mmmmm "Wonderful"

Tank says, "A good domestic always goes well with catfish."

"Not today it doesn't. We'll stick with water." Book injects.

Tank's patience begins to wear, but he restrains for the sake of the run. In a considerably more dour tone, "Yea.. Water.... Mmmm..."

Book, still happy with catfish being the night's recommendation, doesn't even notice. "Hush puppies, beans and dirty rice." He smiles at the server, anxious to taste the fare.

"Yea. Two of those."
Sounds like we got some folks that like southern cooking. I'll let the chef know. With that she is gone.

About ten minutes later you see two men enter the restaurant. One is a white middle-aged human, the other is a black ork of indeterminable age. Both are dressed in khaki slacks with blazers. The human has a dark blue turtleneck on under his darker color blazer. The ork is wearing a pink T-shirt under his. Both are clean shaven and walk with purpose. They head directly to the table where you are sitting. Shortly after they arrive so does the catfish. It would appear that all four of you have similar tastes.

Now that he is seated you can determine that the gleam in the ork's eyes was his eyes - they are solid silver. The human eyes appear normal other than the fact that the iris is grey.

The ork says, I suggest we eat before we talk. The human nods his agreement.
Both Tank and Book nod and eat quietly. Tank several times wants to start a conversation, but fails to find something witty to say so instead keeps quiet. He liked the ork's eyes, but couldn't bring himself to every get his body modded... and now that Book had informed him that he was not only magical but gaining strength.... Well, Book said that cyberware and bioware corrupted the magic.

During the meal Tank followed those thoughts. Perhaps Book is just messing with me and I'm not magical at all. After all, I'm not [i]Bruce Lee nor am I super fast, nor do I have flaming hands or any of that stuff....[/I]

Book just ate his meal, taking an opportunity to assense the Johnsons when able.
As the meal comes to an end, the ork picks up a toothpick and asks, I assume that you are interested in business? He waits a moment then continues, My partner will cover the details.

The human clears his throat and begins, I assume that you are familiar with extractions? Good. I represent a party that has need of your services. No one is to be hurt and a bonus is available to you if there is no trace of your passing. If you are interested at this point, I will continue: otherwise, you are free to leave. He folds his arms and waits for a response.
With the ice now broken Tank starts with a subdued belch, followed by a smile. "I'm all for bonuses... and I've not heard anything to make me walk away yet, though I've not heard numbers or opposition details."

Book retains his cool demeanor, leaving the class clown routine to Tank. He also noted the unease the Johnson's appear to have due to the missing small talk and seeks to rectify that. "Let me start by thanking you for the meal. It was excellent." He wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin. "Extractions are one of our specialties." Considering they had only actually worked one run together, that statement was no more false than true. "And I personally prefer work that is quiet and non-violent. Like my direct colleague, I will need to better understand the pay and opposition details to make an informed decision."

Tank made note of Book's maneuvering and began to see the social interaction as a tactical engagement. His natural and magically enhanced social skills and attributes began to take over for his conscious mind. He changed his body language in response to the subtle reactions of the Johnsons and adjusted the tone, inflection and content of his dialog. "You were recommended to us as stand up guys and since we are here, I assume our reputations are the same." He subconsciously opens his arms, resting them on the table and retains his good old boy smile. "Lay out the next set of details and we can begin to discuss what it will take to achieve your desired results."

Book looks to Tank out of the corner of his eyes. Where did this guy come from and where did he hide Dalton?
The human smiles as Tank speaks again. Very well. The extraction is relatively simple. You are to remove a statue of Apollo from the High Museum of Art. Outside of weight, the statue should be willing to come with you. It is on loan from the Vatican for the next three months. Security will be, understandably tight. Here is a picture of the statue. He transmits a copy of the image.

The pay is 5000 each with half now and half upon completion. The bonus if there are no traces is another 5000 to be split as the two of you see fit - after completion of course. Do you have any questions?
Book looks at the task very skeptical, then types out a message to Tank in AR; His hands under the table.
<<@Tank [Book] This is a problem. We will need a diversion, hacker support and a means to just move the statue. I do not have the levitate spell.>>

Tank says, "Allow us a moment to confer." He then looks to Book as he types, keeping his exterior calm.
<<@Book [Tank] Can you get it, the levitate spell?>>

<<@Tank [Book] It doesn't work like that. The mysteries are revealed in Snake's time frame, not mine. You will need to negotiate for considerably more. We will need to bring at least one contractor to hand the matrix. I can get a few earth elementals to move it, but that will be thousands in binding materials. And what the hell does no traces mean? We may need to break a door or cage down to get it out... I imagine spending some time in my lodge when this is over hiding from astral tracking.>>

Tank weighs the situation in his mind for a moment, the military tactician augmented by the very valid points from Book. The costs would be more and Johnsons never liked opening the purse... On the other hand, they always low balled you. "We can do this, but we there will be some considerable expenses and we will need to subcontract a few elements of the engagement. Before I quantify that into numbers, I need you to quantify 'no traces'. Does that mean you sign of who did this, we got it got out and no idea who created this mess...? Or does it mean: no damage to the museum, the statue just vanished? And what is our time frame?"
My client would like the statue within the next two weeks. The bonus would be for the perfect crime - the "inside job". Otherwise, you may simply steal the statue. Make a mess if you must; however, you must minimize any damage to the structure. One rather unpleasant fellow suggested that he could, how did he phrase it?

He turns to the ork who responds, Blow a hole in the wall and drive out with it.

Ah, yes. Nasty thought that. Does that answer your questions?
Tank smirked at Blow a hole in the wall. "Definitely for that money we could make a big mess of things. For subtly, we're gonna need to bring in a matrix contractor. So if we run 5k each times 3, I think can make this happen."

He looks to Book who nods in agreement.
After a moment the mans says, That is agreeable. Do we have a deal?
Tank reaches out to shake their hands. "I believe we do."
The ork seems impressed by the gesture. He says, A true pleasure.

The human adds, Indeed. Here is some additional information for your planning.

After a few moments with his comm, he places three credsticks on the table. I trust that certified sticks are acceptable?
Book, seeing Tank take what to him is an uncharacteristically aggressive position in the negotiations, allows the man to continue taking the lead and remains the silent partner.

Tank scoops up the credsticks, deftly, more to clear them from the table than anything else. "I believe they will." He also accepts the data. Plenty of time to interrogate that later. "The final detail will be the delivery details..?"
Contact us at this number when you have the statue. It is a dead-letter drop - at least the electronic version of one. We will provide additional information at that time. You understand that if you are not sufficiently quiet, we will require a cooling off period.
Book chooses this moment to interject, "No matter how quiet we are, it won't take long for an APB to go out on this statue... At that point all measure of physical, electronic and magical tracking will commence." He looks over the pair as he speaks, "It either needs to be placed behind a fairly large ward or moved out of the city fairly quickly... I understand you don't want us coming in hot with security forces in tow, but I assume you will take immediate possession in all other cases...?"
That will be acceptable. If there are security forces in tow as you put it, then you are on your own. I will make a call and see if a suitable ward can be created to hide the statue.
Book started to offer to create a ward, for a fee, but reconsidered. Once a deal is done, never renegotiate more than once... and only renegotiate if the deal turns out to be different than what you negotiated for in the first place. In the end, he simply nods.

Tank, sensing the deal is done and a bargain well struck, looks to exit the scene. Somewhere there is a drink with my name on it. He thanks his hosts once again for the meal and excuses himself to the bathroom.

Book, finding himself alone, does the same.. especially since Dalton is his ride. Finding Dalton at the bar however is aggravating. A drink in his hand, the team's new negotiator plies his skill, "Sit. Have a drink. Let's celebrate."

"We have work. And our employer is still on site. We should move on."

Dalton considers the advice. Sound enough. He downs the drink and and heads for the door. As Eric crosses over and out, Dalton turns back to hit on the hostess. His goal is her LTG and a time to meet her for drinks or dinner.
Somehow, her million megawatt smile gets bigger and brighter. She gives Dalton her LTG and they agree that her next day off, they'll go out.
Dalton exits the restaurant, a spring in his step and a smile on his face. As he climbs into the cruiser, Eric looks at him not quite sure what to make of it. When he starts whistling as they exit the parking lot Eric turns to him, "What in the world got into you?"

Dalton just smiles and keeps on driving.
During the drive, Eric pressures Dalton for the credsticks. They need to pay for summoning supplies and a hacker with those. He'd seen how Dalton lives and was equally concerned about the partying as he was Dalton getting rolled.

Both men return to the perspective dosses for the evening, Dalton swinging by a drive through liqueur joint to pick up something to celebrate with.
The next morning, Eric rises early and catches a cab. His destination is Moon & Stars. He spends time having tea with Bolo discussing a pair of new books that went on the market. Regrettably, they are both more expensive than he is willing to pay at the moment.

Late morning, he leaves with the binding materials wrapped in a large bag. The cab drops him a block from his apartment. He walks up the block and around the street till he is comfortable he is not being followed before going home.
Dalton awakes just before lunch, cursing the day's light as is his morning ritual. After a shower he checks his messages and finds one from Book.
<<@Tank [Book] When you get up and going, contact your fixer and feel out for a hacker. I'm getting magic supplies. We need to meet later and you need to take a trip to the museum...>>

Tank sits down and calls up Digger. Hey... Isn't Digger as hacker...?
Digger answers the phone. What can I do for you omae? Hacking? Me? I haven't done large scale decking for a while. I still have my deck from before the Crash but .... Look, I can get you somebody if that's what you need. How skilled of a hacker and how soon do you need him?
Tank thinks for a moment.
<<@Digger [Tank] Someone on par with that girl Jazz would sure be nice... I guess we got a few days. The job has a two week window, though, including legwork.>>
<<@Tank[Tank] I'll see what I can do and I'll get back with you as soon as I can. No more than a couple of days.>>
<<@Digger [Tank] We might also be looking for some IDs. Book mentioned something about it, just need to confirm the details with him. What's the lead time and cost for a couple of disposable IDs? We'll be going downtown and just don't want to leave any traces?>>
<<@Tank[Digger]Depends on what you want kid. A full fledged ID or one of the candy ones? If it's candy you're looking for, then talk to your future hacker. I'm sure he could whip something up.>>
<<@Digger [Tank] Null sheen chummer. Over & out. >>

Dalton smiled a smile of self approval. I think I've earned my pay for the day. After shooting a note to Book that the contractor was in the works, but they would need to wait for there 'tickets to the museum' until then. He then set out in search of food.
Eric on the other hand had turned off his com and was busy with the first round of summoning. He already had three spirits bound, but none are spirits of earth. He needed the strongest of spirits. Those, who when manifested, drew their physical strength from the very Earth herself.

The summoning went ok. It didn't sap his strength, no matter how furiously it resisted, but he did not get the number of services he wanted. The binding was considerably tougher. The spirit was not pleased with being bound to his will. When it was done, he was more exasperated than exhausted, but he took a short nap anyway.
Dalton, left to his own devices, grew quickly bored with the afternoon. He considered finding his way to the Fire Cracker. He even drove by, but he was expecting Book's call and he needed a clear head for whatever they are planning. Which brings me to the point that I don't know what the hell the plan is...

Finally, not finding Book online and realizing that resisting the urge to go drink was gnawing at him, he went someplace to take his mind off a drink... He went to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens and began to walk.
The next afternoon, Dalton gets a call from Digger.

Kid, you got some time to bring that bookworm over with you? I have someone who can help you with your matrix issues. He's just ... Digger seems to be hesitant - very much unlike himself. He's just different.
Dalton was enjoying the warm April day, reading Propertius when Book finally returned his calls. Seemed they wouldn't be meeting today after all. Without a hacker, Book wanted to take an easy evening.

Looking around, Dalton felt as though he had stepped outside the world. The clean, almost serene atmosphere of the Atlanta Botanical Gardens almost made him forget the outside world and the dirt in it. Sitting there, reading poetry, he almost felt as though he had stepped into a sappy movie.
Book spent the night studying. It had been a few months since his last big gig. Everything since then had barely kept the bills paid. Snake was prodding him. There are secrets here. Secrets to be learned and hidden away.
Given the last few nights of partying, Dalton found his way home without a third night repeat. He still awoke the next morning cursing the sun. I need a beer.
Book awoke early the next morning and spent it wrangling with another spirit of earth. When done, he went back to bed. His head was throbbing from the contest of wills.
Dalton was in route to the Fire Cracker when the call came in.
<<@Digger [Tank] Sure. Where and when? >>
He'd never know Digger to not be full-speed ahead... What the hell does Digger consider 'different'?
Tonight as long as you've got time; otherwise, day after tomorrow.
Itching for some action Dalton replies:
<<@Digger [Tank] Tonight will be good for us. Where? >>
The Cube. 1900.
Tank turns on GridGuide©, sends a quick note to Book outlining the call from Digger and begins a Matrix search for information about The Cube.
After a few exchange messages to coordinate, Tank picks up Book. The shaman would have preferred to wait a little while longer, but was growing increasing concerned about the adapt's drinking when he had nothing else to occupy his time. The duo spent some time in the mall observing people and the latest fashions in the stores. Once they left the mall, Book took a moment to update their clothes..

They arrive at The Cube half an our early and mingle their way into the bar. As they look for Digger, Tank remarks to Book, "Couple of years ago this was the place to be."
The club is dimly lit - just the way most clubs are. The band playing in the back is made up of three orks and a troll and, according to the playbill, they are known as Can of Headache. The music is loud and those in the club seem to like it. A few AR windows near the bar are playing highlights from the current season of combat biking and there seems to be a Tlachtli game from somewhere - Aztlan maybe?

Two young elf girls, no more than 20 years old slide over to Tank and ask him for his number and if he wants something to drink. The cuter of the two looks at Book and asks, You wanna come with?
Looking around the club and recognizing Can of Headache Book replies, "I think it may be again..." Problem was that Book preferred a much more mellow music, "Though perhaps not for me."

Tank on the other hand was right at home. He enjoys the fast beat of the thrash metal, the dim lighting and plenty of drinking. As they slide into a booth, Tank is smiling; Happy to be in his element.

The arrival of the beautiful young elf girls before they even get drinks is frosting on the cake to Tank. Now this.. This is living... Tank wonders to himself why in the world he doesn't spend more time at The Cube. I gotta put this to the top of my list. With a smile he replies to the pretty sylvan beauty, "That and a whole lot more." He reaches into AR and slides a card to her persona with one of his drop numbers from the Atlanta Prime shadow-proxy. "They call me Tank, but you", he says reaching out to gently touch her chin, "can call me anytime."

Book is not so easily seduced, though just. He smiles at the advances of the young maiden, torn between his rational mind rejecting that simply trendy clothing made this much difference and the carnal side of him ready to be unleashed to ravage her right there on the table. The more they are repressed, the stronger they become... With a bit of an unsure smile he answers them with, "Where to?" as he assenses them.
Book looses focus on the first girl. He is left with the impression that she is not what she but has no idea exactly what she is. The second is as mundane as they come. She appears to have some cyber near, or perhaps in, her eyes.

The first one smiles at him and says, Over to the bar and then to our booth. We were thinking of hitting another club after here. I hear that there is a rave near here too. She says the word rave as if it were something that she isn't familiar with.

The second, with puppy-dog eyes and hands on her hips, says It's more fun with more people.
As Book mulls over the girl's words, Tank continues to smile like the cat that's about to eat a canary. "Let's get this party-"

"I think we have some business to attend to first." Book interjects.

[bTank[/b] is not ready to give up yet. "We have nearly half an hour... and these ladies are definitely more delightful company than waiting alone."

Intrigued by the aura of the first girl, Book allows himself to be talked into something he would normally turn down.I hate a secret that is not mine. Snake nudges him in agreement. Secrets are their province. "That is true, but we do have an appointment."

Tank turns to the first, "Lead on to your booth, but he's right. We will have to hang around here for a while... but I think I can make it up to you."
This is a "lo-fi" version of our main content. To view the full version with more information, formatting and images, please click here.
Dumpshock Forums © 2001-2012