Chester grins menicingly and mindlinks MIT-Nick.

Ever piss off a mage? Lets put it this way, LONG before you can even reach to a lay a hand on me I can fry your ass from any direction. Not to mention read your every little thought. Secrets come easy to those who have mojo. So Ill make you a deal, I stop with the short cracks and keep my mojo out of your way, and you stop flappin threats, Soka?

Chester walks through the store smiling as he goes. Letting his curious nature wander as he keeps an eye on MIT-Nick. Making sure he isnt about to shoot him. He knows he's in public but he isn't sure about any of these guys.

MITNick starts to respond to the troll before his eyes go wide at the intrusion inside his skull, recognizing Chester's "voice". He manages a response to the troll first.

Uhh.... Explosive... definitely the kinda ... stoppin' power I'm lookin' for.

Confused at the intrusive words in his head, he shoots a quick text at Chester.

Listen punk, I was talkin' to the other fraggin' kid Steve. You ever cast a spell at me again though, and you won't have ta worry about me layin' hands on you! You won't even see it coming.

Definitely explosive. he says with more surity.

The old troll smiles, cigarillo hanging from his mouth. You must nota heard of me, afore. Like I said, the name's Al and I's got it all ... fer a price. He opens a large wooden box from under the counter and pulls out several smaller boxes of ammunition. What kind a gun you say ya had? He finds some shotgun sized rounds.

Chester laughs out loud from the other end of the store as he reads the text. Not a mocking luagh. But as if he just read some he thought was funny. Once he notice's everyone else in the store looking at him, he smiles big.

Uhh....Sorry, dont mind me. Just got a joke sent to my com....Funny stuff.... He quietly puts his com away.

Don't suppose you got any of them goodies in a Colt?

Leroy, fetch me my other box. Turning to Steve he replies, Yessuh, I believe I do.

The dwarf smiles at the sight of the shells.
How much for the big bruisers for the Remington?

The troll smiles like a man who just hooked a large fish. I figure 10 'yen per shell is about right. The group with him start chuckling.

Oh yeah, that makes sense, 'cause I'm buying armor piercin' tank killer shells here. You'd be lucky to get half that price from a guy in the middle of a firefight.. I'll give ya' twenty fer ten.

John watches the pair haggle over the price as they both throw numbers at the extreme. Glad I've already got mine.

The old troll lets out a belly laugh. Ya got spunk little man, ya got spunk. Tell ya what. You give me 60 for 10 and we'll call it even.

Make it 100 for 20 and you've got a deal chummer.

The old troll scratches his head and then nods. Done. Who's next?

Steve leans forward. "I'll take a clip of explosive in a Colt iffin ya got it."

I'll give ya the same terms. 20 for 100 'yen. It's a bit more than a clip but it'll do ya. As soon as the business is concluded, the troll and his associates whisk the contraband away. Now y'all might not know it but I run these here parts. I'd be mighty obliged ifn you told me what a group of armed men and a young boy be doing in my neck o' tha woods. His associates close ranks around the troll and their posture stiffens.

MITNick begins loding shells into his remindton, leaving the question to others that might actually care to talk about it.

Big guy shoulda' asked before he armed us up.

Steve recognizes the implied threat in the mens posture and steps up with a smile and glib remark. "Why surely ya'll get folks out huntin' 'round these parts Al? We're just out shootin' critters fer a few days."

The old troll stands up straighter and his nose twitches. Boy, ifn you gonna lay down a load of manure, at least let me put my boots on. Now out with it.

Chester walks to the counter next to Steve.

A-a-a-ctually sir....This here's my unc-c-cle. He keeps tellin my pop that he thinks Im a f-f-feg..? No wait, he said fag. yea thats right, somethin like a homo I guess. Just cause I like to make pretties, ya know? S-soo he's takin me shootin to m-m-an me up a bit...That's what he said to my dad anyway.. He leans into the counter and whispers. But he's kind of embarrassed about it, he's kind of a tough guy, and doesn't want anyone in his family bein a sissy.

Roll for Con

Staying out of sight and out of mind, the rest of his shells stufed into his shotgun or his pocket, MITNick rolls his eyes.

Stupid fragger. Not like we gotta tell him anything. We're locked and loaded, so it ain't like he can intimidate us. And he sure can't call the cops on us for illegal arms, 'cause we'll just tell 'em where we got 'em. Nosy fragger. You'd never get idiots like this in Seattle. People know well enough to mind their own business.

MITNick hovers by the door, leaning against the wall. Idly, he scans for a maglock at the door, to make usre they haven't been locked in.
Compile Crack Sprite - Unregistered.

He keeps the sprite hanging around in his PAN incase he should need any assistance, then takes a virtual look around.

Al shifts his weight back and forth with rolling his cigarillo in his mouth. Ifn you're plannin' on manning up this wee one, ya got ya work cut out for ya. Where did you say you were shooting again?

-----

@ MITNick

As John watches the scene unfold around him, he feels much more like an observer than a participant. Musing the irony that he is normally extroverted and outgoing, a requirement of his day job, since the run started he has been reserved and quiet.

The troll's prying sticks him and he fires back on instinct. "You got a recommendation?" His tone is perhaps a bit more cocky than he intended, but he was nothing if not a product of his upbringing. "I'm not too particular, as long as I get to shoot something."

The old troll smiles and puts his thumbs in his overall pockets where his hands can be easily seen. I suppose that we can all shoot each other. He lets the idea soak in for a minute. Now, I happen to know that there's an old facility near here that attracts some large game. You might try out that way.

Steve relaxes mentally. The troll seemed to accept Chester's version of events. So there would be relatively no trouble. I hope.

"Fancy that. Guess we'll head out that way. Thanks fer the tip, Al." Guess he's the big man around here fer a reason.

He indicates the door. Guess we'll be goin' then? Steve is clearly asking permission rather than stating fact.

Al nods and those around him part providing a way through the store. Now, ifn you happen to see a group o shdowrunners, you steer them this way. I have a bite o work for them.

Chester puts a look of confusion across his face and cocks his head.

You mean like in the trids?

Yeah kid, like the trideo shows. Al seems somewhat dejected as he stands aside.

Steve considers his options and decides to try a subtly different track.

"Well we ain't seen em. Suppose we kin keep an eye open. But hey I got a nutty idea. I ain't workin' fer few days on account o' lil' Billy over here." Steve jerks a thumb in Chester's direction.

"What say you give us the job? Iffin them runners show up give em the job too. That ways you got two buncha folks doin' one thing and more likely to get it done. They do it, you pay them. We do it, you pay us. Hell, it'd be good fer you Billy boy. Workin' fer a livin' made more men then I kin count."

Chesters eyes light up.

You mean Im gonna be a real life shadow runner?! Just like the trids! With explosions and guns! Wait, do I get a gun?! Do I get to shoot some enemy soldiers? And one of us has to be the mage. Shadowrunners in the trids always have a magic guy with em so they can wipe everyone out when it gets too hard for everyone else.
He says that last comment glancing at MIT-Nick.

The node is seriously tempting, but the very real threat in the meat stays his virtual hand. As soon as the oppurtunity arises, MITNick leaves, ignoring the kid.

Al laughs at the suggestion before he drops into a snort. You aint serious is ya? Naw, get on out the door and enjoy your huntin'.

From John's perspective he thinks he understands the troll: This is his turf. If there is a run going down, he should be getting a piece of the pie. We've made a mistake and created our own competition. He ponders the ammo for a moment. At this point, it just became suspect. His darted with several bad scenarios, but he kept a cool exterior. Last thing to do here is to set them off.

Flash follows his team out of the bait shop, when they are all safetly back in the truck and pulling away, he speaks.
<<@Team [flash] We should keep a watch out for tails... and I think a wireless sweep of the truck would be a damn good idea right now.>>

Yea good idea. And Ill keep an eye on the astral. I didnt take the oppurtunity to check if anyone in there was magical or not. I should have though. But Ill make sure they dont got a spirit following us or one of em projecting or whatever.

Chester begins to scan astrally.

MITNick climbs into the van, taking the oppurtunity to go full VR for a moment and run a complete Scan of the van, looking for a wireless signal.

Steve nods to Al. "Guess yer right. Tell you what, them runner boys do show up, let em know we're out there. Have em give us a holler, huh? Hate to get my ass shot off."
______

Steve climbs back in the truck. "Why the hell didn't we think of that before? Specially since we kin prolly never come back." You guys do realize who we just lied to there?"

He tosses Flash his ammo. "Better check it." He indicates MIT-Nick "His too." He turns around and sees Chester in an astral trance. "Good work back there kid."

As the truck pulls away Al and company come out to the porch of the store and watch.


@ MITNick

Flash slides his Ingram out of his duffel bag and places it into his lap. He then takes the ammo as it is passed over, removing all the rounds from the clip for inspection. Got a little time as we drive, might as well make use of it.

@ Flash

Why the hell didn't we think of that before? Specially since we kin prolly never come back." You guys do realize who we just lied to there?

Good work back there kid.

Chester hears these words, but they are drowned out by the rush of the astral quickly. He attempts to focus all of his attention on there soroundings and looking for anything that could be following them, doing his best to cancel out the wild life in the area.

Trickster mentor, Please help me in this task so that I may better serve a purpose.

After a look around, he pops back into conciousness.

We're lookin good you guys, nothin of the mojo type on our tail. He looks to Steve. And..Thanks. I tried.
He looks at MIT-Nick.
What about you Tech? You get anything on your end?

The trees pass by the side of the truck as the group heads farther towards Bule.

"Ammo looks good. At least as far as that goes, he seems like a solid enough guy." Weapon is his lap, Flash now focuses outside the window, watching for surprises.

Steve nods at Flashes revelation. "Yah figured. Big Al is supposed to be a straight up sort of scum bag."

Steve nods a little at Chester's words. "Well it's supposed to be my job. But you did good in a pinch."

In a short period of time the group finds itself turning onto a road that is loosing the battle with the elements. The group pass through a field that seems oddly square. Given the number of bumps perhaps this used to be a parking lot? There is a mound that was either a house or business that hasn't quite succumbed to the ravages of the brush. Using the computer the car plots a course on what used to be the road and seems more like a close trail with the sunlight filtering through the trees. Around lunch the group meets the first real obstacle for the truck - a fallen tree that is too big to drive over.

Drive around a bit like we're lsot and hit some bumps. When we make a stop for a piss break, we need to take off the tracker they stuck on the van.

MITNick tries not to smile, feeling particularly proud of himself for saving the team's rear. At least as he sees it. Maybe that'll shut the kid up at least. Probably not.

Probably shouldn't be so hard on the punk. He's a kid with this crew after all. Gotta prove himself and all that. As long as he can sling those spells like he can talk, we should be good at least.

MITNick hands over a few of the shells for inspection before going back to Dawn of Atlantis.

"Say. Anyone bring a chainsaw?" The presence of the fallen tree wasn't something Flash expected, but then he expected them to be hiking by now.

When MITNick mentions the tracker, Flash feels a little smug for suggesting the hacker search earlier. He pulls up the map and checks how much farther to their destination.

MITNick mock pats himself down, grinning back at Flash, the only guy he can take seriously on this little outing.

Nah chummer, fresh out. But I got some stogies we can enjoy while the kid magiks it outta the way.

Chester smiles.

Finally, some action.

Chester steps out of the car and walks to the front of it. He raises his hands, out-stretching them towards the falling tree. Allowing the mana to flow through him, channeling all of his energy into it, saying a small encantation in Sperithial for luck.

Levitation spell for the fallen tree.

The tree snaps into sections as it begins levitating out of the way; nevertheless all three sections make it off the road without a problem. Close by past the tree is a clearing with a ring of stones that appear to have been charred from repeated fires.

Farther up the trail the truck faces it's first obstacles, small trees. It performs well under the circumstances and mows them down. While the truck makes for good going it is hardly subtle - wildlife begins to run away from the sound of the approaching truck.

Eventually, the team reaches a second clearing with larger trees and the truck begins to get bogged down.

The first tree cleared out, Flash nods at Chester's effective use of magic to clear the road. This turns into a one ork gets out alive type of run, best to geek the mage first... He pauses, then continues the thought. Let's hope that doesn't happen.

As they get back underway, he goes back to watching the area around them as they pass.

----------------

Reaching the newest obstacle, Flash comments. "Guess me head out on foot from here. No sense getting the truck stuck and having to walk home again." He then pulls off his jacket, rolls it up and stuffs it into his backpack. SMG in hand, he exits the vehicle and looks around. Coming from a rough neighborhood and having a few enemies, the first thing Flash always does exiting a vehicle is check for threats.

Flash stares at the vicious creatures perched in the trees, making that horrid noise. Looks kinda like a pigeon, but different. He manages to resist the urge to blast the scary creatures into puffs of blood and fur and feathers. He does contort his face at the distinct lack of odor in the air. The near sterile smell to the air is unsettling to say the least. He looks around to his team mates to insure there are no adverse reactions to either the low air quality or rabid creatures now stalking them.