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BishopMcQ
//NewsFax Special Report
//P2.0 Prime Runners
//Exclusive Footage
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[Voice Off-Screen]
//Voice Profile Matches Talasadri Red-Foot

"Well fans, and hello to my new subscribers, it's time to buckle down. This feed will be going with only a three-second delay. That means you may see things and respond. Gawd-killer is also monitoring the return feed and will pass messages from you on to us."

The video feed appears to be coming from a helmet mounted camera. Watching over the LA Skyline from the east, you can see the bioluminescent algae building up in the tide beyond the city lights. The Red Tide...

You watch as Talasadri's gene-sculpted body rolls across the feed, every inch wrapped in BodyCling, the latest designer armor that shows more of the curves than Zoe's older Second Skin line. The shot was gratuitous, but appealed to a large portion of the audience. Subscription counts continue to climb higher.

With a pack slung over her back and cinched tight, she jumps backwards out of the helicopter. Three other forms jump out with her. Small AROs pop open offering feeds from their perspectives. Each of them wears a heavy black military jumpsuit with helmet. Weapons and gear are strapped down tight to their bodies. For a few seconds, you see the helicopter fall away from you into the night sky before the runner faces down. There is a soft-whump and the descent slows. Now instead of falling, Tal glides silently between buildings in West Hollywood.

As Diamantes comes into view down the street, you see a few people from the line turn and wave. Undoubtedly, they are waving to themselves in the augmented feed.

"Time to protect us, sorry folks. Back in sixty seconds."

Ad feeds for new BodyCling Body Armor, parachuting lessons to jump like the pros, and Weapons World stream across the feed, but you only half pay attention.

"And we're back. We're going pure night-vision on this next bit, so keep a watch on the shadows for me."

The green and black display of anachronistic low-light vision shows a plushly decorated hallway. Two of Talasadri's companions are ahead flanking a door. One has her hand pressed to the door, while the other works on the maglock panel.

"Kaylee is able to see what is happening on the other side of the door while Dex gets it open for us."

"Not much going on, two guards patrolling. The mark is getting dressed."

Kaylee's voice cuts over the comms and whispers into the feed. A few seconds later, she pulls her hand back from the door as Dex gives a thumbs up. The other two creep down the hallway, SMGs gripped in front them and held low.

Dex holds up three fingers and slowly counts down. Three. Two. One. He hits the open button on the pad and swings the door open.

//Purchase NOW!
//Full subscription to Talasadri and her team.



Redjack
Mikey leaned back in the recliner. It was last year's model, but it was the first real recliner he'd ever owned. Who said having roommates was a bad thing? He thought, smiling.

Then, on queue, after jinxing himself his brother Ten walked in the room. "Hey Mikey. Say, can you slide me some yen? I gotta by an e-book for this class..." They called him Ten cause it sounded better than Righty. He''d lost his right hand when they were getting jumped out of the Loco Bananas and the Los Verdugos chose that exact moment to assimilate the Banana's turf into their own.

"Yea. How much?"

The one-handed ork smiled, "A hundred... and I need yen for food."

"A hundred? Are you crazy? Rent it for twenty... and I filled your meal card. Eat at the cafeteria." Ten was considerably physically bigger than Mikey, but since 'the incident', he always played the victim to his younger brother.

Mikey, of course, felt guilty. It was his plan that cost his brother a hand. His plan that left him with a nasty scar across the right side of his face. What's a brother to do?

That taken care of Mikey returned his attention to the Nirvana Nexus, a local data haven specializing in runners. Not Prime Runners mind you, not even mid-tier runners; bottom of the barrel runners. Truth be told, it was one of the places where LA runners with a P2.0 rating so small they measured it four places right of the decimal. Today, its was Mikey's kind of place. Tomorrow? Well that's another story.

He opened a second window, this one with the current feed from Talasadri Red-Foot. He watched the team move, daydreaming he was with them, as he scanned the Nexus. When the feed prompted for more yen for more time he winced. Ten needs an ebook so I miss the greatest run of the week.

Scowling, he closed the premium window and focused on the posts. Gotta be a milkrun here somewhere....

Buddha72
D'zan sat looking in the small mirror at the new piercing in his mouth wondering what his kin and kith would think of him now here in the big bright world. Turning from the mirror in the bedroom of the open air house he lived in, he scanned one of the several floors he and his friends were now renting.

Well being small had some advantages it turns out, this place is huge....

Without a second though he launched himself into the air and looked over the other areas of the loft. The...thing that Pound=Foolish had hired to make the necessary modifications to make the space livable for pixies had cost him the last bit of the nest egg he'd saved to make sure his move to this world was a quality one. But the end product that looked something like a large dollhouse luxury apartment was just what he wanted - gone was living in simple houses built into trees, he was in the city now or at least what was left of this one.

I think it used to be a troll....

Flying around satisfied with the layout and even the corner that was left sized for the other people that walked around this place. He darted to the ceiling to check the modified vent, pulling it up he flew down the shaft and was soon greeted by light from the outside. The bolt hole seemed to be just perfect, it would let him go in and out without much hassle. Flying back to his living room he settled down to check out this P2.O thing people kept yammering about, the commlink he "borrowed" was set up to project an image, thanks to his new "friend for the moment because he knew no one else" Mikey had set up was showing some crazy woman engaged in some sort of job. He leaned forward and his arm nudged the device which promptly buzzed, shot sparks and then foul outgassing smoke of some sort as the image fractured and dispersed into an explosion of light motes before winking out. With a long sigh he picked it up and lugged it over to the trash chute.

Well, I guess I'll work on the garden and wait to see when work shows up..

He pushed the worry down and away, he had to trust these new people to help him along. Argent was one of the Changing People and his breed wasn't know for treachery so he felt safer about him and Mikey seem to be some sort of mystic though he couldn't pinpoint what. He smelled different than the other mundanes so that was a good sign in his book and he didn't treat him like some sort of Barbie or Tinker Bell come to life. Time would tell as it always does.
Fenris
"Niaomi, chica, look, I need something. Hey, I've got a Pito rating! Yeah...only 3 spaces behind the decimal! Well, look, I can guarantee something worth watching if you get me something worth doing! Sweety, look, you know me! Okay, no, not that well, but...Alright, perfect, that's great. Get back to me if it works out, I'll be waiting by my commlink!"

As the call ended, the smirk on his face disappeared just as abruptly. He tasked his commlink to do a thorough search of some of the local nodes frequented by LA 'runners to try and pick up the threads of something, anything that smacked of work for B/E specialists. As it went to work, he pulled up a half-dozen screens in AR from the gleaming new terminal that sat in the center of the otherwise ramshackle room. The few pieces of furniture in the room didn't match and were obviously second hand, but the terminal was good enough to fake an expansive background behind anyone wanting video in addition to their call. He browsed the Pito threads of 6 of the lowest tier runners attached to P2.0 that could still be considered "Prime" runners.

We'll be there soon enough..." He knew the group of them weren't going to be doing any spectacular fire-fight scenes any time soon, but there was enough talent that he hoped they'd make up for it in daring robberies with crazy entrances and exits. As he browsed, he gnawed on a bone from the real ribs he'd had last night at the restaurant. He'd had to make arrangements for doggie bags before hand to avoid embarrassment at the table, but seriously, you couldn't just waste that stuff and come home and eat soy.

Bone in hand, he got up from the terminal and ambled down to Mikey's floor, as restless as his heritage might imply. The spaces weren't technically separately owned, but everyone liked their space and respected the others privacy. Mikey had to have picked up something they could pull off to get things rolling. He hadn't spent the last two years learning every con and fleece in the book to make pocket change on the streets.
HeySparky
India was making the block back from the store, whistling a pleasant tune. There wasn't a grocery service in the neighborhood, so shopping had to be done the old-fashioned way - walk down, make selections, pay up, walk back.

Okay, easy one, breathe, step, grab, push, grab, pull, over...

More and more, the grocery runs had fallen into India's lap.

Breathe, step, step, ready, now...!

Seemed she had a better time evading the local thuggery's attempts to mug or extort the neighborhood's residents.

Tuck, roll, breathe, step, step, hop, step, drop, hop... okay, last bit. Have a look around...

The young woman came neatly to her feet and hopped up onto the parapet wall of the building next to her own. A microdrone made a buzzing loop around her at a distance, its tiny glittering camera eye focused first on her and then on the jump she would make. She adjusted the angles of the shots she wanted it to capture and leapt...

If the sodas were a little jostled, so what?

She hit the fire-escape and redirected the the momentum in a cornering leap that she turned into a twist and a pull... up... and... she not-entirely-gracefully, pulled herself up to the next level. Truth be told, she could work on her strength. Probably her weakest point. So to speak. She'd been at it, but had, in the past few weeks, spent a lot of time with Mikey, Argent and D'zan discussing how they would make a break into The Scene.

She tapped on the window, chiming her roommate's comms. She sat waiting impatiently for one of them to let her in and wiped the sweat off her brow. India hated waiting. If it wasn't her idea, anyway. She'd been waiting near a week for some back-ordered gear to arrive. A small spike of excitement fluttered in her stomach as she thought about the armor. And a twist of annoyance at waiting for it. Still. Seriously. Two days? Who waited two days for anything?

The window creaked and cracked open and India stepped through.

"I'm back with the grub," she hollered. The little drone zipped through the cracked window after her and landed on her shoulder, fussing over its video feed, queing different sequences for her perusal.
BishopMcQ
The Rowan Building

Call it a blessing or curse, but the kitchen was one of the communal areas in your combined lofts. It was D'Zan's night to cook. Each time it was his night, the doors to the kitchen were locked. Sounds of pots moving and smells of food cooking wafted out. None of you had ever seen what happened in the kitchen or how the pixie moved pots that weighed more than him. When the doors unlocked half an hour later though, food was placed on the table.

Skimming through shadow forums and posting boards, there were dozens of little jobs to be picked up. Hopefully you wouldn't get desperate enough to take a job for 300 nuyen.gif. Right on cue, the deep thumping of bass rocked the windows. A few minutes later, muffled thunder comes from upstairs. The music probably covered the sound of the shotgun blast for anyone further away than your shared ceiling.

Argent's comm chirps twice on the table. A few seconds later, Smoke's comm chirps. Then, the throw-away that Mikey had bought. Each shows a local call code, the caller requesting full virtual presence.
Redjack
Mikey - The Rowan Building

The afternoon and scans of the Nexus a bust, Mikey was glad to sit down and eat with his roommates. He missed sitting down at a table full of brothers and while this crew could never replace his brothers, they didn't eat near as much either, meaning Mikey usually got at least one plate full.

The melody of com links breaking the mundane conversation around the table, Mikey reaches out his consciousness and answers the com on reflex. He could count the number of people on one hand who had this LTG. He looks to the other two coms as his words transcend only the virtual world through his own com. "Yea."
HeySparky
The kitchen was shut up while D'zan cooked, so India decides to work on her reel. Back in her room she leans forward into a handstand and walks to the wall. Once there she flips on a meter that will monitor her reps and body position while she browses various video feeds from the last weeks. Down and one and down and two... that jump looks good... ugh... and four and... thank god for editing... Images flicker in separate viewing windows and she pieces the feed together as she does her reps.

The bass blares upstairs and India's dampers filter the eardrum rattling frequencies out. When the sharp report of gunfire filters through, the young woman winces, coming off the wall into a crouch. Poor bastard. Glad I'm not mixed up with those reprobates. The fact that she already was, by virtue of her place of residence, does not occur to her. She takes a deep breath and, shaking her head, tips back up again, balancing while she goes back to editing video feed. A demo reel of sorts. As soon as her armor arrived, she could start recording in earnest. Thinking of the interminably un-arriving armor saps her creativity and with a sigh, she continues her reps focusing on breathing and form.

By the time D'zan calls dinner, India is stepping out of the shower, a quick rinse. Cold. Terribly cold. Bracing!, she grins a forced smile at herself in the mirror and rolls her eyes at her blue-tinged lips. Right. Bracing. She throws on some clothes and towels her hair dry and heads to dinner. For a 'runt' he sure packs it in. India passes another serving towards Mikey.

They're wrapping up the meal when a comm comes through. India grins and looks at Argent. A thrill tingles along her nerves. Is this it? She grins and sits back in her chair. "D'zan, we'll just be a minute. This might be a job!"

Her avatar is relatively simple, a stylized version of herself wearing black Secondskin armor, but all rendered in a dichomatic palette, translucent shades of blue and black, shifting. Like smoke. Mikey had made the avatar for her, sculpting it with her kibitzing along the way. Overall she was very pleased with it. She looks around for Mikey's avatar and follows his lead. This was his turf.
Buddha72
D'zan makes a face as they all begin to interface with their infernal devices. He flies up towards the draping plants that curtain his space of from the rest of the loft, it was his hope that the plants would prevent him from getting eaten by a cat or a rat considering where they lived now.

"Let me know if we have work!"
Fenris
Argent flipped a grin at India as she dropped into VR, and reached over to snatch a quick morsel off her plate once she'd gone under completely and couldn't tell. Chewing and leaning back, he cued his commlink to connect with the thin tattoo of nanopaste trodes that sat just under his hairline and along one ear.

His avatar, per his standard thumb-his-nose style, was a 2m tall anthropomorphic fox, dressed in a Victorian style suit, complete with top hat and tails, including two fox tails that mirrored his own IRL. Deferentially, he stood just behind Mikey. He may be the voice of the operation, but in VR, he with actual computer skills was king.
Redjack
As Mikey opened a window to the virtual meeting, his new icon joined the meeting. As he worked towards a more professional image, he had spent some time changing his persona to reflect that. He had dumped the ganger persona with markings of the the Loco Bananas and now appeared as a person made of liquid mercury. His 'skin' shimmered with each step and he appeared as a tall slender elf with long silvery hair. As he stopped, the ripples snapped to a stop as well, immediately smoothing like a statue.
BishopMcQ
In VR

One by one, each of you rezz into existence. The lack of D'zan is noticeable, but expected. He never traveled into the realms of virtual existence.

The room around you is sculpted into an ancient keep made of ice. Spartan and utilitarian, there are no cushions. Your breath puffs out of you, every few seconds. Words form in each breath, spelling out in steamy letters your words.

Across the room, stands a man in a black coat. A sword gleams in his hand, point resting against the icy floor. He walks towards you with one open hand. While he moves, his shadow shatters into a thousand ravens reforming when he stops.

"Well met. You may call me Willem, son of John. I am told that you are solvers of problems and thieves who do not steal. That is what I need. Several items were taken from me and I would like you to retrieve them. The least of which is what we shall begin with, if you succeed your names shall be spoken in the lands between places and I shall ask you to recover another item. Fail and you shall never know of me again.

"Are you ready to discuss what I seek?"
Fenris
The upside to the virtual meetings was that no one could tell, without serious effort, if you were holding conversations behind their back while staring them in the face.

So guys, first impressions?
Redjack
As Mikey's liquid silver icon strolls into the castle of ice, the technomancer behind the icon begins to sweat a little. He is more accustomed to negotiations performed in a back alley smelling of sweat, puke and urine. Used to the negotiators being poorly spoken gang-bangers, occasionally high on the choice vice of the hour.

This meeting is different. To Mikey, this is the prime-time.
<<@Team [Mikey] The sculpting and details say both time and money to me.>>
He couldn't put his finger on it consciously, but his subconscious was also trying to tell him that the grand scale was meant to impress and intimidate.

Mikey thought of a thousand flowery responses, all that came out was: "Yea"
Meanwhile the voices of Black Hat were whispering to him, egging him on. His focus distracted and his Paragon influencing him, he began to subtly probe the node, discretely looking for holes.

<<@Team [Mikey] Perhaps someone else should lead the conversation?>>
Fenris
<<I can do that.>> The smirk almost comes across in the plain language message.

"Well met, Willem, son of John. I am Argent, Lord of Silver. Beside me stands Mik'hal, Humble Wizard of the lands between places, and Smoke, Ever-Present, Never-Corporeal, Always-Mysterious. D'zan, Courtier to the Ancient Sidhe Courts attends with us in spirit, if not physicality. We are, as you say, finders...of a sort. Your offer intrigues us, both in it's content and presentation. Please, tell your tale..."



BishopMcQ
In VR

At Argent's addres and titles given, Willem nods to each of the members. His gaze lingers on Mik'hal for several seconds.

"If one of yours truly stands as courtier, then you will know of the lands between places. My senses are limited in this place but this one does not seem to have walked there. His mind resolves in the realms of men.

"Forgive me, that is not the business at hand. Several items as I said before were stolen from my home. I can tell you that most are in the city where angels were lost. The first item, is a pair of heavy iron boots."

An image forms in the space between your group and Willem. It shows a pair of heavy leather boots, reinforced with metal plating on the shins and toe. The plates are interlocking across the front and as the image rotates, you see that they are laced up the back of the calf. Two thick iron plates form the sole, one in the heel and the other under the ball. The iron is pitted with age and wear.

"They are in the company of a man with learning. He who would know us but be ignorant to our existence.

"In exchange for this service, I offer you each a sample of purest quicksilver and a single distilled breath."
Redjack
Mik'hal, Mikey thinks. "Kinda sounds Vory V Zokonish... Might work..." He half focuses on the conversation, half on his probes. He considers actively hacking the node, but knows that would definitely be bad form... or at least getting caught hacking your Johnson's node, anyway.

The shimmering silver form of Mik'hal watches with pupilless eyes as the swordsman and the fox parley.
<<@Team [Mikey] Purest quicksilver and a single distilled breath? What's the street value of that stuff... Or would we want to save it and party with it ourselves?>>
Fenris
<<Kudos to you, Mikey, I hadn't even considered inhaling whatever he's talking about. Courage you do not lack. Quicksilver might not be a bad name though, if you're going to keep that avatar...>>
Redjack
With all sincerity, if not some naivity, Mikey replies:
<<@Team [Mikey] There's a reason they were called the Loco Bananas... Then again, that's also the same reason they're all dead... But I'm still not sure I'm ready to deal drugs again. Can't he pay us in nuyen or something?>>
HeySparky
Smoke's eyebrows rise at their Johnson's avatar. Wow, nice. Mikey had been right to go the route they had with hers. She didn't have the cred to commission any thing classy or dramatic, so they'd settled on an avatar that embraced the limitations of her comm and her budget, rather than fighting with them. She looks at her hand, flipping it first one way and then anothers, studying the effect as if studying her nails.

Distilled breath... like... spit? Smoke shifts her weight from one foot to the other and puts a hand on her hip. Seriously? Her brow furrows and she looks at Argent, who seems to be handling things just fine.

She snorts at Mikey's comment, <<Heh, yeah, can you see us paying rent next month? Here ya go Mr. Andretti, and, whoops, watch out there... squirrely stuff, ain't it? Heh. Sorry. Try not to spill i-- oh. Well, howabout this? No, it's not empty, there's breath inside. Yeah, that's what I... No, not air, 'breath.' Whoa. Wait a sec, Mr. Andre-- uh... Gotta go!>>

She smiles and cocks her head, looking at Argent and their 'host.'
Redjack
While Argent converses with the prince, Mikey pauses his icon for a moment and sits up. "D'zan. You ever heard of quicksilver or distilled breath?"
Buddha72
With a start D'zan flies back through the foliage screen, darting amongst the lights and other obstacles in the room to hover just in front of Mikey.

"Well quicksilver is another name for mercury cooked up right to be used in talismongering. The worth it is always tied to its purity so you want to make sure we're getting the best they got. As far as breath, some wickedly obscure formulas call for whacked out things like a butterfly's tear or the like. You would want to know what thing's breath you're getting, the stranger the beastie the more expensive it will be. Either way i can get us a buyer for this stuff no problem at the Market."

He hovers, a little excited that he can actually be useful for this part of the job. The eagerness to show his worth shows clearly on his features.
Fenris
<<=D>>

Argent can't exactly laugh through the text communication, but hopefully the old-fashioned emote gets his meaning across.

Turning to face the Johnson again, Argent nods. "I will avoid the insulting of implying that you might offer anything less then the best quality items in exchange. Do you have any other information on they that stole from you? And is there, praytell, a desire for these items with more expediency or with more discretion?"
BishopMcQ
In VR

"Very well. Utilize the discretion that you best see fit, but the boots must be returned to me before the waning moon reaches full darkness. The sun shall rise and set sixteen times before the moment you are too late."

The image of the boots fades away and is replaced by a man encased in ice. In his early fifties, with silver temples streaking into darker hair, he has a strong chin and a ruddy complexion. He is wearing casual slacks, a polo shirt, and glasses.

"Behold, Robert son of Connor. He is the thief last seen with my boots. I know that he works in the city of lost angels and seeks truth but does not want to know the answers."

Data packets with images of the boots and the man are ready for download onto each of your personal comms.

"Contact me here or find me where the light touches those who work at sea, when you have completed this task."

With that Willem turns away from your group and his icon shatters into a flock of ravens. They fly up, higher and higher beyond your ability to see them. Around you the ice cracks and crumbles, the palace falling apart.
Redjack
Mikey's fly-spy on the table, the team has an audio/video feed from D'zan. He lays his com down beside it. The LED on the throw away phone is minimalist, but would at least give D'zan a small measure of connectivity to the team.

He then lays his head down on the table and returns to full VR. His consciousness is focused back through his icon just in time to see Robert. As the data packets fly out, , silver streams reach out to capture them. Analyze them. Insure they are clean of infections before routing them on to their final destination. As the place begins to crumble, a silvery bubble encompasses the three icons of the team, protecting them.

The bubble then transports them into data stream of matrix. Through the bubble, those within can see the neon pulses and icons passing by them, oblivious to the presence of the bubble. "Light touches those who work at sea? Son of Conner? Seeks truth, but bladah, bladah, bladah.... What in fairy tale quest-? I hope we can pay the rent with the quicksilver and breath...."
Fenris
Argent chuckles, tail swishing as he peers out at the streaming flow of data just beyond the convex surface of the bubble.

"Well, if D'zan's right, it'll be worth plenty on the market. And you have to admit, it'll make for great publicity if our first series of runs have some sort of fantastical theme behind them. Mikey, how hard would it be to reproduce that scene and attach it to the group's Pito profile? As an intro to the runs, it's gotta be worth some views and maybe a subscription or two just by itself."

"As for the nitty-gritty of the run," he says, "It doesn't sound too bad. Some guy named Robert Conner, academic if I've ever seen one, and I have. A fairly distinctive looking pair of boots. We contact him here or down by the docks within 16 days. That's a pretty wide margin for a run. We track him down, snatch the boots, and cash them in. Who knows, payment for one of the later jobs might be a dragon scale, or someone's first born son." He finishes with a laugh.
HeySparky
Smoke de-rezzes when the group finally hits the meat world again and India shakes her head, the strange lingering impressions of VR cobwebbing across her senses. "Wow, what a nutter. Right up your alley, eh, D?"

India looks at the technomancer, "Though he seemed pretty interested in you, Mikey boy." India smiles as she picks up her plate and starts gathering the dishes left over from dinner. 'Cooks don't clean,' her mom had always said. As she busies herself in the kitchen her little flyer buzzes out of her room and lights on the back of the chair that the young acrobat had occupied. A projector on its back displays an partial image of Smoke reclining comfortably, portions of her form missing where the projector's optics cannot reach.

India's comm requests and audio link to the others. <<So, what first?>>
Fenris
<<Well, let's do a search on this guy. Quicksilver, can you search by visual and match up his picture?

Once we know who we're dealing with, we can figure out the best way to snatch our stuff. >>
Buddha72
With a smile and nod, D'zan moves away from the tech fearing even sitting near it will break it. "Hold on to that for next time please." He hovers around the air space above the table. "So don't make me beg, tell me what's the job and why are we being paid in Market items?
Buddha72
His attention span a little short after the teaser from the group about their payment he flies towards the entryway of the kitchen. "Don't break any of those dishes with any of your 'fancy moves'! You hear me!?" He flies back to the table eyes going from Argent to Mikey and back again.
Fenris
Leaning the chair back up on two legs, Argent digs in his pocket and flicks one of the gummi bears through the air towards the pixie. Black Forest Gummi Bears, actually imported from the Black Forest. Apparently some of the trolls in Europe had developed a taste for confections and started a small shop. It was gourmet, but more importantly, it was a ball of sugar almost as large as the pixie's head

"Thanks for the heads up on the stuff, D'zan. Wouldn't have had a clue about what he was talking about. So, it looks like our current J is heavy duty in the magic stuff. Pretty archaic speech, babbled on about the "spaces between", which must be something magical 'cause he wasn't chatting up the 'Net. We've gotta get some old pair of boots from some academic guy. The J mentioned that he," Argent pitched his voice low, in an almost perfect imitation of the avatars voice, "Seeks the truth but doesn't want to know the answers."

"Robert Conner was the name. I think Mikey's looking him up as we speak." As he's been speaking, Argent has been leaning over the table, taking advantage of the orc's slightly longer dip under to build a complicated structure using forks and spoons from the meal to bridge the orc's forehead and nose. The foxes tails, normally kept tucked under the long coat, swish mischievously as he falls back into his seat, apparently satisfied with the elaborate structure precariously balanced on the orc's face.
Buddha72
With a casual gesture, the gourmet candy floats its way gently to D'zan and his eager hands. With a savage bite the pixie bites off a leg from the bear. In a tiny shrill voice he makes the candy shriek and speak. "AHHH! NOOO! Mercy!" With a sound like silver bells he laughs at odds with the next savage bite of the bear's other leg. "Never!" As he consumes the rest of the candy his giggles and laughter can be heard through the loft. With a satisfied hum he settles to the table top sitting with his knees gathered to his chest and a happy grin on his face.

"As soon as I can see the hoof covers I can see what I know, if I draw a blank then I can go to the Market and ask around. Someone's bound to know something about them or maybe even this mystery man you met."
Redjack
QUOTE (Argent)
Mikey, how hard would it be to reproduce that scene and attach it to the group's Pito profile?
"Not hard at all, just a matter of time. I can whip up sculpting for a node. I can load up a reality filter and then import the settings. Not my specialty, but I can make a passable copy."

As the others drop out of VR, Mikey does as well with a sigh. He looks around his bubble and fades out as he returns to his meat body, sitting up at the table.

QUOTE (India/Smoke)
Though he seemed pretty interested in you, Mikey boy.
Mikey snickers, thinking to himself. Yea and if he knew I'd started probing the node he'd probably have been REALLY pissed. Perhaps next time I'll get a chance to do something with it. "He was in awe of my icon."

QUOTE (Argent)
<<Well, let's do a search on this guy. Quicksilver, can you search by visual and match up his picture? Once we know who we're dealing with, we can figure out the best way to snatch our stuff. >>
<<@Team [Silver] Let's just go with Silver. 'Silver duck!' sounds a lot better than, 'Quicksilver d-..... Medic!'. Starting a search now.>>
With that, Mikey/Silver lays his head back on the table for a moment, slipping back into the matrix. His silvery icon reaches out into the space of his local node and begins weaving neon fibers, creating a long, lean, toned dog of varying glowing, neon colored fur. When complete, the dog begins sniffing through data trail, and connections to dozens of blogs and public nodes seeking information about the Johnson.

Through the video feed from the fly-spy, he takes note of the fox's serving-ware based sculpture on his VR-induced comatose body. With a wave of his silvery hand, the kitchen drones begin a dance encircling the fox. From the closet, the vacuum drone begins. A small, rotory dusting drone flies through the air dusting across the room and up the foxes arm while the vaccuum drone extends a small arm and begins cleaning the fox's leg.
BishopMcQ
D'zan

You rack your brain to find where the sense of familiarity came from with the boots. Sluagh. The boots were old when the Men of Eire made their first concords with the Sidhe. You know that the sluagh are wild fey, unbound by any accord except by force of arms. While many of the wild fey are part of the Wild Hunt, the sluagh instead were born from the restless dead and given a physical form.


The sluagh are known to be the only fey to wear and wield iron. Their iron-shod boots are formidable weapons against many fey creatrues and are believed to curse the ground that they walk on to be forever in the control of Men.

Mikey
Information about Willem is scarce on the Matrix. A combination of not having much to start from and the simple truth that not everything can be found in the crevices of data havens frustrates you. Rumors about a man with odd speech patterns and the Icon you recognize have him tied to esoteric jobs. No one speaks ill of the man, just that he's eccentric and focused on awakened issues.

Initial searches for Robert Conner turn up nothing, and searches trip over matches for Robert O'Conner, a leading researcher within UC Irvine's parazoology department. O'Conner's CV includes a PhD and post-graduate work at MIT&T, research in Amazonia and Australia, as well as, full-tenure at UCLA. He teaches two classes per year, both are graduate studies courses with only a handful of students each. The rest of his time is left to research of parzoology, with an emphasis on awakened genetics. The doctor maintains a residence on campus, provided by the Regents.

Image matches through the Matrix for the boots place them at early-Iron Age craftsmanship. Similar iron plating has been found at archaeological digs in Tir na Nog, Germany and France. There are no known records with leather as well maintained as evidenced in the photo. Current scientific thought links the boots to Gallic barbarian tribes.
Fenris
With a yelp, the shapeshifter jerks his tails up and out of the way of the little floor-trolling drone, perching up on the seat and waving at the flying drone circling around his head with one hand while giving Silver a rude gesture with the other, grinning all the while.
HeySparky
Smoke derezzes as India walks back in. She leans against a wall, grinning at the others' antics. She sifts through the information the others share as they share it. "So, we like this guy for our mark? This professor?"

She purses her lips, "Any of you take delivery on a package for me today?" She pushes off of the wall and scans the room.
Buddha72
Calling back over his shoulder to India "Not me but I can't even open the door....."

"If these are the boots I think they are, they're a messy bit of business and old. The Sluagh are linked to them. The boots were old when the Men of Eire made their first concords with the Sidhe. I know that the sluagh are wild fey, unbound by any accord except by force of arms. While many of the wild fey are part of the Wild Hunt, the sluagh instead were born from the restless dead and given a physical form. The Sluagh are known to be the only fey to wear and wield iron. Their iron-shod boots are formidable weapons against many fey creatrues and are believed to curse the ground that they walk on to be forever in the control of Men. These things are some wicked mojo and I for one am not going to touch them and I think mundanes shouldn't be playing with them. They can go back to being lost or with this freak who hired us."

D'zan shudders at the thought of the non-gifted somehow making magic their new science. "Did you all want me to ask around in the Market about the new boss and the boots?" He looks around the room to the others.
Fenris
"Sounds twisted. I'd say, the more information the better, if it's not going to cost us too much. What do you guys think?"
HeySparky
India crosses her arms, "I dunno, I don't wanna go into this blind, but couldn't we tip folks off if we start asking lots of questions?"

She cocks her head, "Let's just stalk this O'Conner guy and grab him. Or maybe someone or something he cares about."
Buddha72
D'zan finds the sitting still to be maddening and begins to fly around the room to work off the tension, better this than doing some sort of mischief - he needed to keep these roommates happy and on his side. His light and clear tone carries through the room to the runners below.

"I think that could work, though I have no idea how things like that play out in the big bright world. Can we afford any trouble that follows in the wake of taking a meat bag like this book worm? I know I don't have much to lose but some of us have stronger ties to this life." D'zan makes lazy loops around the door to Mikey's area where his brother lived. "Just let me know what you want me to do and I'm there."
Redjack
Moving the cutlery aside as he sits up, Mikey begins, "Not a lot about Willem on the air. Robert O'Conner is a leading researcher within UC Irvine's parazoology department though." Mikey shares out the consolidated information from his search. "As far as the boot, nothing specific and the close stuff is historic at best, myth at worst."

QUOTE (smoke)
"So, we like this guy for our mark? This professor?"

Mikey shakes his head 'Yes', then 'No', then 'Yes'. "Maybe?" He smirks, "Best guess says, 'Yes'"

After D'zan provides his information, Mikey furls his forehead. "'Restless dead'? That's a figure of speech.. right?

After a little back and forth about the professor, Mikey rubs his chin and then adds his piece. "Not sure about grabbing him, but I think the stalking him is a reasonably good idea. Anybody up for a road trip?"
Fenris
Argent grimaced as you mentioned the 'Zoo department at UC. "Bunch of fraggin' sadists and monsters," he mutters. As to the road trip, he slaps his hands together. "All right, that's what I'm talking about. Put me on campus, I guarantee this guy will never know I'm following him. Or, at least, he'll never know he's being followed by the same person. Smoke, you want to tag team the organic surveillance with me? Make sure this guy doesn't know what's going on?" He's already tossing stuff in a bag and reaching for the keys to his bike.
Buddha72
D'zan raises an eyebrow at Argent's mutterings. "I'm going to hit the Market and see what I can find out about the boots and maybe this fellow. I don't think it would be a great idea to drag me along on campus for covert surveillance if he got sight of me he'd probably try to stick me in a jar and we all know where that leads. So I'll check back in here with you all after I get back from the trip elsewhere." With a dizzying array of loops, dives and whirls the pixie darts up to his space to gather what he'll need for the jaunt to Troll Market.

As he listens to the noise of his companions preparing to depart he makes his way to corner filled with boxes, jars and bits of gathered items. Hovering just above the ground he looks over his trove of rare finds trying to decide what to offer Knockers.

Perhaps a flower grown in glass and air.... He grabs the small dried flower bud and puts it aside for further considerations. He quickly grabs a small bundle of thread and a small vial of clear liquid and gathering the dried flower bud places them all in a satchel he slings across his chest and flies out the escape hatch to the outside of the building.
Redjack
Silver starts by shaking his head in agreement with D'zan, then stops, cocks an eyebrow and raises a finger. "Yes, but what if we find something magical? Or we need someone to hack something magical." He pauses for a moment. "Perhaps not hack, but knack.. Or whatever you call it." ending with a smile.

"In any case, I need to get closer to hack his com. Once I own that, we can figure out a little more about what he may be up to." He is excited to be headed to college, even if for a job. He always secretly wanted to go to college, learning being a passion of his despite his life with gangs.
Buddha72
Hearing Silver's voice carry up from the room below D'zan pauses as he considers the questions raised. He places the satchel back into the corner with its odd collection of found objects. He flies back down through the foliage to the other runners gathered below. "Good point and as much as it shames me to say it do any of you have a backpack I can hide in while you move around campus? I don't want to risk being seen but I'll be there if you need my help with anything otherworldly." He hovers in the air waiting to see who would actually carry him.
HeySparky
"Yeah, we can tag-team, Argent."

Smoke nods at Silver's suggestion. Yeah, wouldn't want to be on my own with the mojos, but winces at the idea of riding around in a backpack. "Yeah, sure, you can ride with me, D, but couldn't we disguise you as, like, I dunno, a drone or something?"

She tosses a stray lock from her brow and stretches a little, moving her shoulders, to loosen them up. "Lemme grab some stuff." She darts into her room and returns wearing sporty leisure wear and a backpack. Apart from some remnant gang accessories, she looks mostly like a student, or exactly like a student trying to affect a street look.

"Ready when you are."
Redjack
Mikey grabs one of his brother's freebie t-shirts from campus and joins the crew. On the ride over (cab/bus/car/whatever), he runs a few more data searches and forwards the results to the team. He also empties a backpack and takes it, giving the team options if they decide to split up.
HeySparky
"Hey, Mikey, can you fix me up with a passable student ID?"

Smoke massages her shoulders and upper arms, prepping as much as she can without actually busting out the calisthenics. "You comfy back there, D?"

Argent seems cool and collected, eager. Smoke tries to emulate him in as much as she can without tails.
Buddha72
With some grumbling and a little more adjustment, D'zan finds himself with his knees tucked under his chin and looking out a small opening in the zipper of the bag.

"As well as I can be considering the circumstances. Just make sure if you think there's mojo around to turn around so I can get a look at it. If I need to get out or something I'll nudge you in the back, ok?"

He gives a gentle prod with his elbow as an example.

"So let's find this egghead and get all this over with."
BishopMcQ
Team

There are no direct buses from your neighborhood to campus, so you take a few connections. In the last fifteen minutes and four stops, the population on the bus doubles and becomes crowded with college students packing in tightly. These are all of the non-corp kids or students who weren't good enough in school to get a free ride. Conversations about professors and notes being passed in AR from missed lectures creates a boisterous environment that you all feel shut out of. It is obvious that the same batch of students takes this bus in regularly.

Silver runs a feed to each of you covering the events of the day. At the student center, a band is plaing during lunch. "Darwin's Failures" according to the digital flyer has a "high energy punk feeling, drawing from from early influences of the previous century," sponsored by Horizon. There is a Faculty art exhibition, as well as, discussions by two authors tonight on their recent publications.

Silver
After passing the information about campus activities to the group, you continue to search for more information about Dr O'Conner's achievements. He is a well-respected scientist working identifying the genetic structure to create the predisposition for sapience in awakened animals. Attempts to push devil rats to higher levels of cognitive ability have failed, but he was able to produce a single hive mind in one batch of subjects. His efforts have been complicated by the awakened X factor within the genetic code which hinders replication of identical effects under identical conditions.

Though his efforts have not been met by academic or criminal inquiry, he has earned the ire of several conservation groups who believe that his experimentation on sapient creatures is cruel and unusual. These same groups are fighting for acknowledgment and citizenhsip for all sapient beings. Following several death threats and a failed attack, Dr. O'Conner moved on campus to be closer to his work and the security forces on campus.

Switiching gears, you turn to the boots and possible collectors or experts. The closest expert in Tir na nOg artifacts you find makes her residence in San Francisco. Jacqueline Morgan has studied artifacts and early Tir history since the rise of the Tirs. She has made several trips and been awarded an audience with the Council of Princes to discuss relevant history and the connection between Tir na nOg and Tir Tairngire with early settlement in Ireland. There are a number of private collectors in Los Angeles for pieces from Europe at the appropriate time period. The majority of them focus on mainland Europe and artifacts from the Golden Age of Greece to the Fall of Rome. While the boots would fit in any of their collections, they would not be prized possessions.
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