MESSAGE OF THE DAY: 08OCT08
Updated "Front Page" for both OOC and IC, character sheets are up on the OOC page for easy reference.

Active Roster:
-Claviatika ->Ezekiel "Gemini" Wolfen, Street Samurai
-Ears ->Alan Reese, Mystic Adept Investigator
-Madrigan -> Martin Guerrier, Newbie Mage
-Zombayz -> S*P, Combat Axe With Legs
-Digital Heroin -> Morgan Doakes, Adept Hacker (Shunned by the magical community )
-Mickle5125 -> Kerrigan Sierra O’Malley, Custom gun with legs
-Dumori -> <Insert Character Here>

>>>2140 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

John Stronol stands before you in the casual business attire he normally wears. It’s been years since he’s slipped into the powder blue coveralls of a field officer but he’s certainly kept in shape. It’s always hard to tell with dwarfs but most would peg him at around 50 years old. He runs a hand through his graying hair and scratches at a scar along his collar bone. He looks each of you over carefully and speaks loud enough to be heard over the din of idling citymasters and the boisterous conversation of people relieved to be coming off shift.

“Alright, so you all made it… and early too. That’s pretty damn impressive. No one shanked each other in the locker rooms so that’s another mark in your favor. “ He smiles slightly and goes on, twitching the hand by his side quickly, activating a shared AR projection. A number of images flicker into the existence in the air before him. A very generic looking orc in a powder blue MAC uniform, a personnel roster, weapon licenses, the projected route for tonight, a general map of greater Seattle showing other active MAC crews.
“Like I said at the interview, job's pretty straightforward. No one wants devil rats in their closets or barghests stealing their babies in the night. We’re here to clear those pests out… and keep tabs on what we can’t get to. Your safety is paramount which is why you’ve been issued those uniforms. Wear them, all of it, especially the respirators. There’s some nasty drek in the air out there and city medical isn’t going to cover you if it turns out you were sucking it all straight into your lungs.� He pauses to bring up an equipment inventory.
“Hopefully you read the chips we handed out. Better yet you went through the training scenarios. If you haven’t here’s the ‘fresher. When you arrive on site the first thing you need to do is walk the perimeter and make sure you two things. One. Ensure that the scene is safe, we roll through some shady districts…� He hooks a finger towards the nearest citymaster, “I fought for those for years, guess we should all be glad SMG got their funding slashed after those riots in the Barrens. If shit goes down you get in there and get going. I hear you’re using your riot to settle some pissant ganger score and you’ll be out on your hoop before you know what’s coming. Anyways, the second thing you need to do is alert people to who you are and why you’re there. The last thing you want do is bust into some squatter Hilton and start spraying Complex Delta all over the people who live there. If they don’t want to leave you let them know that Lone Star has the authority to MAKE them leave and permanently. But again, you’re goddamn Animal Control not Reagan Wounded Coyote, the Lone Star Marshall come again to bring justice to the wastes. You start randomly shooting squatters and I’ll be happy to introduce you to some friends over at the Star.� His hands deftly flash through the AR, a number of items materialize from the list.
“Alright, authorized gear. AZ-120 stun baton, don’t knock yourself out with them… you laugh, someone always manages, the ones we issue come with an extendable handle so don’t be stupid around animals. Extend the handle and prod them from far away, don’t try to wrestle with a barghest. Uniforms… we’ve been over, wear them. Uh… right. This trashcan looking thing is an ASP, autonomous sensor pod, real original I know. Before you start work make sure you drop one of these at your start point. It’s a ‘trix node for your commlinks and a node for the sensor buttons you’re supposed to leave in each cleared area. Beyond that it’s also a homing/distress beacon should you fall down a flight of stairs or something, helps boosts the signals from your comms and lets us know if you haven’t checked in for awhile. People like to steal them for parts so be aware it's painted bright yellow for a reason. Unauthorized user tries to grab it and run they’ll soon find out where all the AZ-120 batteries are stored. Rest of it’s pretty standard stuff. Each citymaster has 6 modular cages so it’s pretty cramped in there. Regular dogs and cats we pick up and turn over to the pound. Anything more exciting than that we either put down or alert Lone Star… Actually we alert Lone Star regardless but you get the idea. Your shift is 8 hours with a half hour paid lunch, the first half you’ll be out doing scheduled checks, the second you’ll be in here for calls and training.� He smiles widely as he finishes up, giving everyone a moment to download all the files into their comms.
“I’ve set you up with a real professional tonight, she’s been working here for a little over four years and she’s certainly picked up the work really well. Anyways, she should be here in a few minutes, so why don't you all just wait by her rig?� Stronol points to a citymaster at the far end of the motor pool. Satisfied you are all moving in the right direction he turns on his heel and tromps up the stairs to his office.

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Even at this hour the night is warm and the odor of rain slick concrete mixes heavily with the nauseating smell of exhaust. You walk past the rows of idling citymasters, counting 3 in all. Three additional ports are empty, their vehicle out responding to a call or perhaps down for extended maintenance. Simple service drones roll slowly around the waiting vehicles, washing them down or performing basic maintenance.

The citymaster Stronol indicated sits at the very end of the motorpool, it's engine idling deeply as you approach. The exterior of the vehicle has seen better days, paint chips are working loose and a series of dents and... claw marks? run down the side. The bumpers are bent in such a way as to suggest that they've been through a number of low speed collisions over the year. Looking around you see the rungs that will allow you to scramble into the crew cab, an area directly behind the spacious drivers seat and front seat. Looking deeper into the port you can see the modular cage that Stronol talked about. The cages plug into rails that line the back half of the vehicle. Each one can be slid out and removed via a simple AR command but manual safety locks prevent "unintentional" access. Each cage is huge and there are three to a side (all accessed from the exterior), AR commands can deploy additional partitions within a cage so an single "cage" can actually hold a dozen or so dogs. You also notice see a large red button recessed next to each cage module. A quick AR search explains that these buttons are for "Emergency Animal Pacification" and they deploy enough freeze foam to completely fill a cage module. AR also states that there are buttons inside the passenger/driver cabin that serve the same purpose.

After a few minutes one of the tallest, skinniest, orks you have ever seen strides up to the group. His polished tusks gleam in the harsh bay lights as a cuts a roguish grin and pulls up short of the group. The ork that stands before you is well over six foot and wears dark curly hair in a short but carefully combed style. His speech is rapid but oddly smooth. His gravely, sometimes nasal voice, isn't a unpleasant but you are struck immediately by the sensation that he... wants something from you but just hasn't said so.
"Yo'all the new peoples? I'm Harris. Marsha's kid got VITAS or something so I'm coverin her shift. Why're you waitin? Lets go!" He snaps his fingers good naturedly to indicate expediency then hauls the driver's door open. "Strolow says I'm supposed to show you virgins around tonight but we're gonna have some fun too! So'kay om's?" His fingers play over the AR security overlay expertly, unlocking the manual controls and remotely unlocking the crew doors behind him. The passenger side door pops open as well and he pats a large hand on the seat while looking towards LaFayette.
"Hey om! Why don't you sit here so you can help me with figurin where we goin?" He offers cheerfully with a toothy grin.

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Kerrigan quickly clambers into the Citymaster and stows her personal duffle bag between her feet before going through the standard issue weapons that were given out. "What is this garbage?"

She sighs and turns to the person sitting to her left. "Can you believe this? They give us such useless stuff... a stun baton? who actually uses those nowadays?"

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

"Well," says Martin, ducking into the Citymaster, "We're not here to kill everything with four legs and no leash. This is Animal Control. We're supposed to catch strays and set up control measures for Devil Rats and stuff like that. Our guns and these things are only for self-defense."

He grins. "Of course, like the boss said, we might run into a barghest or a nest of ghouls, or something, in which case I agree with you. We may need more firepower than pistols and stun batons. I've got a couple spells that should at least hold them off in time for us to get away and call for more heavily armed backup."

He backs into the seat next to Kerrigan, and fumbles with the harness straps before realizing that the equipment on his belt is in the way. He half-stands in the low-ceilinged compartment and shifts his baton, holstered pistol, and respirator pouch around to the front of the powder-blue coveralls. The uniform, something of a failure of the one-size-fits-all philosophy of tailoring, slides around with the equipment, bunching up on the sides.

"I wish they'd had something closer to my size. This thing fits like a tent."

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Looking nervously, or at least as nervous as an Asatru troll gets, at the rather large claw marks on the side of the Citymaster, S*P can only come to one conclusion: Seattle has some damn big ghouls. Like giant sized. Or something. Maybe not ghouls. Maybe jotun. Maybe really angry devil rats. At the thought of devil rats, S*P started fingering his axe.

"Ich not using one of those silly little batons. Rather hit them with flat side of mien axe," he responds to the conversation, "but Ich would rather not fight at all. Fighting ist for when it ist needed. And these clothes too tight, not too loose"

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Approaching the Citymaster with idol interest, following shortly after S*P, Mosaic runs a hand over the clawmarks, his mind reaching out to the Matrix to find a cryptozoology sight, simultaneously capturing an image of the marks and running statistics on the depth versus the composition of the van's armour, the stroke angle, and the length of the marks. He does this not because he wants to identify a potential threat, but as an exercise of the mind. Of course, in another AR window his avatar - a photorealisitic image of himself with clothes made of a myriad of images pulled from the Matrix around him - is lounging in a virtual strip club.

He seems to have modified the jumpsuit in short order, at least in the way it is worn. He wears it stripped the waist, a tight shirt and leather jacket over top, the MAC logo painted in bodypaint along the back. His hair is back to it's full glory, a spiral of blue entwined in black large enough it might seem some odd form of camoflauge.

`The baton has its uses, especially when one doesn't posess as impressive a frame as yours, my friend.`

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>
Ezekiel fidgeted around a little in his jumpsuit, taking in all the procedure and policy speech quietly. Powder blue wasn't exactly his color, and he felt that he looked quite ridiculous. He wore his fur lined, hooded, black leather jacket over the jumpsuit in an attempt to normalize his appearance, but all that did was create an odd clashing contrast. He shrugged and went on with it.

He climbed into the Citymaster and dropped into a seat as near to the door as he could find. He took the moments where everyone was getting settled as an opportunity to check his equipment...none of which was he even mildly practiced with, not to mention that he had no intention of using them. Not that he was strictly opposed to it, he just wasn't sure if he trusted his well being in methods alien to him. His preferred methods, however, hadn't been forgotten: the ceramic knife strapped in the breast of his jacket, the ten or so throwing knives sheathed in straps on his abdomen, and of course his simple and lethal katana. They all seemed a little drastic to him at the moment, but then again he wasn't so sure.

As everyone else seemed busy preparing, Ezekiel decided to ease himself in what he was confident was a calm before a storm. He buckled in and awaited whatever it was that was about to happen.

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Walking over to the indicated car, Alan whistles as he sees the scratches, dents and other marks on the vehicle. Like Mosaic he runs his hands over the biggest indentures and then brings his nose close to them sniffing.

"Hope we don't have to catch too many of those, whatever they were. Bet stun batons don't impress them much. But hey what's the party line? If it's too big, don't fight it, run and call for backup."

Muttering to himself "Yeah right, run. As if we'd be able to outpace many critters on foot." he jumps into the back, buckles, pats his left jacket pocket as if checking to see wether he forgot something then leans back.

>>>2140 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Lola walks quickly to the van, eager to begin. She inspects the various dents and scratches, then shuffles in and takes a seat.

"I do hope we run into something exotic--maybe not as exotic as whatever made those scraches, but something a lil' smaller." She laughs, as she buckles herself in. "It would certainly be good field experince."

>>>2140 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Alan turns to Lola, flashes a smile and says "Exotic and small sounds about right. So where do we get to order?"

>>>2140 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

`Ursus Piasma, otherwise known as That Bigass Bear That Eats People...`

There is a vacancy to his tone which belies his multiple foci at the moment. He raps the side of the van with his knuckles, and climbs up into the back, knowing well his role is anywhere but the driver's seat.

`I don't think they'll throw anything like that at the green crew... but it would be interesting to see such a reclusive beast.`

>>>2150 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

"Piasma. Oh, I heard about this. I was taking a parazoology class when it happened. I don't think they ever figured out what made them start attacking in urban areas like that. Lot of people died, though."

Martin checks the schedule of stops on his commlink. "Uh, Harris? These 'hazardous' sites... Are we going to have Lone Star nearby?"

He lowers his voice. "I'd hate to get shot by some random berk over somebody's stray dog."

>>>2140 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Kerrigan looks up from unzipping her duffle bag and, as she pulls out her precious customized pistol, grins at Martin. "Don't worry, omae. I'll protect you from the mean ol' gangers. teehee!"

The pistol seems to fit her look perfectly, featuring a beautifully crafted image on the grip and the words "Till Death do we part" along the slide in silver cursive.

>>>2151 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

S*P chuckles at the apparent fear of bears(admittedly big, hungry for people ones), and gangers. Didn't these people know that dying in combat got you a ticket to Valhalla? If they did meet that bear, he just might have a worthy opponent!

"Your gun ist beautiful Kerrigan. And who needs Lone Star, when you have Troll Axe?" S*P asks grinning, showing a mouth full of tusks and broken, pointy teeth. He hefts his axe, as if to show his point.

>>>2152 HRS, 06JUN2071: Municipal Animal Control Central Office: Motor Pool>>>

Harris smiles widely as Lola takes a seat next to him, "next to" being relative given the expansive cabin of the citymaster. He turns to look into that backseat and sneers cruelly at Martin, an action that takes on a sinister flavor since it highlights his large tusks.

"Omae, what you scared about? You honestly think the Star goin come running to save the dog catchers?" He makes a sound like a laugh trapped by a exasperated snort and continues. "Hey Marty, I thought you were smart omae!"

Shaking his head he turns around, shifting his skinny frame around to get comfortable in the worn driver seat. His hands whisper over the AR controls and the citymaster lurches out of it's port and into the Seattle night. As if on a cue a light drizzle of dirty rain begins to speckle the windshield.

"Ya'll better put your shits away when I'm drivin. I get an axe in my neck and I'll beat the shit out of you, no joke om... no joke..." Turning out of the lot he guns the engine and pulls into traffic, immediately eliciting a veritable symphony of blatting horns and angry AR messages. He takes a moment to pop open his door, the window must be broken, and flip off the angry mob behind him. As he slams his door shut he cranks the seat back and lets the citymasters Pilot program take over. A hand touches a panel on his armrest and pounding Orkploitation rap fills the cabin. Those familiar with the scene would immediately recognize the work of "Trognificient", a new and increasingly popular rapper. Unless interrupted, Harris immediately drifts into a noisy slumber before you even hit the freeway.

>>>2153 HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road>>>
"Jesus Christ-" Ezekiel said shortly as the Citymaster lurched onto the road. He had to grab his katana to keep it from flying around the cabin and possibly impaling someone.

Suddenly, given the talk of giant man eating bears, his weaponry didn't seem so overkill. And to be perfectly honest, more than a small part of Ezekiel actually delighted in the prospect of that kind of challenge.

He kept a good grip on both the katana and its sheath to prevent any further possible accidents, then he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, focusing his mind on something other than the auditory assault on his eardrums in the form of "Trognificent".

>>>2154 HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road>>>

`The fifth is Glathsheim, and gold-bright there
Stands Valhall stretching wide;
And there does Othin each day choose
The men who have fallen in fight.`

As if to mirror, S*P's thoughts, Mosaic speaks softly a bit of ancient prose conjured from the wells of his memory. Reaching into a satchel-bag he'd thought to bring to stow his issued Manhunter and some various accouterments in, he extracts an old leather bound book. An honest to paper book. The Secret Doctrine, the Synthesis of Science, Religion and Philosophy, is the mouthful of a title, and it seems to be incredibly well loved, in the sense that it is many dog-eared and tagged with little bits of paper. With the conversation about Lone Star, and the dangers they face, he brings up a route-map. Even as their driver sends them on a narcoleptic trip to the first sight, he begins to read, and speaks almost absently to the others as his mind processes the map and the book at once.

`We're bound to get in a little bit of trouble, what with the job and all, and you'll get to use your gun I'm sure. Would be a shame not utilizing such a well loved piece of machinery. But we'll be safe enough, Ghede won't claim any of us before we cash our first paycheck.`

>>>2153 HRS, 06JUN2071: Troll Rap Express>>>

Alan grins as Harris speeds out of the pool and hits everybody with Troll Rap.
He then gets earbuds, glasses and AR gloves out of his breastpocket, puts them on and, looking at Mosaics book, proceeds to type something out.
Afterwards it seems as if he's slowly scrolling through something.

>>>2155 HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road>>>


S*P stows his axe at Harris' request. The big troll was pretty sure he wouldn't hit anyone, but better to listen then do something stupid.

"Odin may claims ones of us, but Ich ist sure he would rather take a master warrior" he says, showing a tusk filled grin. And hey, the music might not be metal, but it's like blackened Troll metal without the harshness.

>>>2155 HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road>>>

Kerrigan's eye starts twitching as Trognificient's noise fills the cabin. She stares at her gun, clearly trying to tune out the music as she cleans her precious... I mean, her pistol. Unfortunately, she fails to tune it out, and the twitch spreads to the rest of her. She suddenly snaps her pistol around and sights along the barrel at the back of Harris's head. She suddenly stops and shakes her head, carefully stowing away her pistol before pulling a snack wrapper out of her bag and chucking it at Harris. "Oi, chiefy, can you stop making us listen to dying cats wailing? How much longer till we get to work?"

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>

Harris quirks one of his wide tusky smiles at the occupants of the crew compartment, batting the wrapper away and leering for a moment at
Kerrigan.
"Tryin to get my attention om? You're not uh fan?"
He shakes his head and turns back to driving muttering bemusedly under his breath at the antics of the other workers.

The next couple of hours of work are tedious and fairly physically demanding. You enter into a pattern of leaving the vehicle, strapping on your respirator and tanks of various chemicals, and clearing; old buildings, drainage ditches, offices, and apartment complexes. It feels like 90% of your job is being an unglorified janitor, sweeping out places for pests to hide, sterilizing surfaces with various chemicals and generally trying to eliminate the food sources or hiding places for rats, cockroaches, and what have you. After the first couple of job sites it becomes obvious that Harris has very little intention of leaving the citymaster at any time. He claims, perhaps correctly, that it's important that someone stays behind to monitor communications and control a number of the simple drones that thread hoses through tight spots or investigate hard to reach areas. He says that as "Assistant Senior Team Manager" it's vital that he's able to use the citymaster's systems to "supervise" you new people. He certainly does spend a great deal of time on his commlink. To his credit, he does seem to know a fair amount about his job, selecting the right chemicals and directing you by AR markup to spray or place them as appropriate. The only time Harris leaves the citymaster is after a job site as been completed, ostensibly to "Make sure everything was done right."

The ASP turns out to be pretty fucking heavy, presumably to deter theft and damage. The chore of moving it around the worksite and to and from the vehicle is one that the very strongest people can perform easily. Even then it's shape and density makes it unwieldy and uncomfortable to carry. Evidently there's some sort of cart that you're supposed to use to move it around but this rig's cart has gone missing last shift and a replacement hasn't be located. Those of you familiar with electronics and computers will recognize that the ASP is not a very subtle wireless device and compensates for it's lack of sophistication with volume. Whereas most wireless routers use dedicated knowsystems to project their signals through complex spaces... the ASP just projects a potent signal that gets into most spaces. It's a kludge solution.

These sites are mostly maintenance calls that are supposed to help keep pest populations low. Earlier reports indicate that these sites are mostly cleared and the small cameras that were left behind by previous teams seem to indicate that they did a good job. However, when YOU arrive at the sites they seem to be crawling with all sorts of run of the mill pests and as such the work takes longer than projected and by the time 0200 rolls around your slightly behind schedule. This doesn't seem to bother Harris and he'll blow off any assertion that you all should hurry up.

You take a "lunch" break around 0200, Harris takes you to a good all night Thai place. The owner, a small female Ork with exotic features and short wavy hair says that the restaurant started life as a stall in the Ork Underground nearly 20 years ago. It was "discovered" by a number of "investors" and a handful of hole in the wall restaurants having been opening up all around the 'plex these last few years. While her conversation is pleasant enough and the food is spicy and copious (Troll Big!), it only barely distracts you from the unpleasant odors you have all begun emitting. Right now it's mostly just sweat but it's mingling with some very unsettling chemical odors and the musty smell of abandoned places.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>
Working in a glorfied clean up crew wasn't so bad. S*P could smoke a joint while he swept, talk with his coworkers(the little one with the gun was pretty amusing), and use his Trollish strength to move that damned heavy yellow box, the ASP. Stomping on the rats made up for the occasional boredom too. Though, Harris really didn't seem to like the 'destruction of rat habitat' idea. Too much axe for him. The loss of small buildings and crates probaly didn't help either.


>>>0200 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

S*P eats his food loud as hell. Schite, Finland needs a place like this he thinks, savouring the spices, and actually being able to eat his fill made it nice too.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>

Working in a glorified clean up crew was terrible!!! Kerrigan signed up for this job so that she could practice shooting things and dealing with dangerous animal infestations, not so that she could muck every hobo's toilet in the city! And the rats! They aren't even devil rats, but the giant troll kept stompin away at them! Ah well... at least I got to practice some dodging...

And what's with that giant, ugly, rediculously heavy hunk o' metal? Kerrigan couldn't even move it, so she begged S*P to do the moving for her. So, she worked and grumbled under her voice, muttering every vile threat she could come up with, along with a dozen or so she made up on the spot.

>>>0200 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>
Kerrigan picks at her food morosely, sulking because of the smell.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>

"Isn't it nice the dropbears give us time to get bored before they come out to play?" Feeling the tension risng, Alan treis to strike up light conversation again and again, hoping that Kerrigan might stop cursing.

Alan tries to rotate trough the crew crew, working with and talking to everybody for some time, telling stories about his revious jobs if his partners don't keep up their part fo the conversation. ".. and then I actually worked at a school for a while. Didn't know the first thing about teaching but those little rascals were great fun. Especailly this one day when ..."

Despite his talking he seems to take the job serious, checking wether he's selected the right chemicals and sprayed everything correctly, asking Harris for confirmation now and then.

If it weren't for the recurring sniffing followed by rigorous shuddering one could get the impression that he liked this job.

At one site he grabs a discarded sock puppet from the ground, gets a small sewing kit from a pocket, searches together some scraps of fabric and makes the puppet a crude face and hairs, putting it atop a chair.

>>>Lunch Break>>>

"Hah, if this isn't the best we've all smelled in a long time!" Alan gets himself a big bowl of soup, burrying his nose in it and inhaling deeply before starting to eat any of it.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>

Working in a glorified clean up crew was... tolerable. While the nature of the work would seem undignified given his relatively priveledged upbringing, and the general Tir mindset of aloofness, he finds himself losing himself in the little details. He makes careful note of the chemical choices Harris makes, and their correct application, from time to time taking advantage of everyone's favorite big ugly hunk of yellow metal to snake wireless, and open up an AR window to various sites related to the chemicals, corporate and otherwise, often going on odd tangents, considering which might react in what manner to one another. While he does this, he maintains an amused outlook with regards to Kerrigan's disgust at the job, pointedly advising her about what she's just stepped in from time to time. When S*P sparks up, Mosaic finds himself patting at the satchel, and longing to smoke some Deepweed, but he's only holding the run of the mill variety. So, in the spirit of comradeship, he lights up a joint as well. With Alan he exchanges ready, and heartfelt conversation. He may lack for social niceties, but he finds conversations in all manner to be intriguing. Left to, however, he gets off on some weird tangents, as a man with a mind as enigmatic as his own is wont to.


>>>0200 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

The lunch break, as it were, provides a joy that is welcome to him, even if he didn't mind the work. He enthusiastically orders a somtan salad, asking that the cooks make it to their preference for spice. Yes, this would mean to most farang - Westerners - a world of pain, but Thai food held a special place in his diet, second only to sushi. To drink he orders a Thai iced tea, letting the milk settle some before taking his first sip.

With work off his mind for the moment, he begins catching up on e-mails from his sisters, and checking a few of his monitored P2.0 feeds.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>

Having successfully made it to their first site, Ezekiel unloaded, strapped on all of his shit, and got to work. He had a way of working that seemed almost nonsensical. He would bump around from place to place, choosing where to clean and how in strange ways, but after watching him for a while an onlooker might find some sense to it.

He probably looked generally distracted, because his eyes have a tendency to wander even when he actually is focused. He worked consistently throughout the job, basically never losing momentum. He had promised himself he would try his best to keep this job. He had the basics down, and if he ever wasn't quite sure what to do, he would simply do something else in the vicinity and wait for someone else to pick up where he'd left off, and take mental note like that. He was never particularly good at initiating conversations, much less than ones that exposed what he felt was his inadequacy.

As far as social interactions went, he basically kept to himself, though he tried his best not to seem like he was avoiding anyone. He didn't dislike the rest of the crew, he just didn't know where he stood with them. From a people-watching aspect he particularly enjoyed Kerrigan's mumbling and swearing, and he appreciated Alan's efforts to strike up conversation with everyone, and with what few words he generally contributed he did is best to reciprocate the feeling of welcome.

>>>Lunch Break>>>
While he welcomed the notion of being treated to...lunch, he supposed, he didn't particularly like foreign food. Or most local food for that matter. So he spent most of his time absorbed in his menu looking for something that just might resemble something he considered normal enough to try.

He couldn't help but be slightly disappointed in the lack of ridiculously drastic encounters with various paranormal animals, but he did like the laid back nature of it all so far. He was sure there'd be a day eventually, he just hoped it was soon.

In the end, he ordered a salad and some fried rice.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>

Martin works conscientiously, taking the time to do each new thing right, concentrating on not screwing up. This probably does not endear him to Harris, but after a few jobs he's comfortable enough to start picking up speed. Any new aspect of the task is still walked through carefully, though. With half his mind focusing on his Detect Life spell, he points out to the other members of the team where masses of roaches, rats, and other vermin are hiding, so the team can exterminate them more effectively.

He helps out as much as he can with the heavy ASP, although that's not much.

When he's not concentrating on figuring out the job, Martin is social, laughing at Alan's stories and telling a few of his own about the crazy shit that happens when you try to teach a bunch of young adults how to cast spells. "Omae, my hair wouldn't stop growing for a week. Had to clipper it every morning, and by nighttime it was still down to my shoulders."

He doesn't have anything to smoke, but he'll take a courtesy puff if offered. If anyone gets twitchy about his being a mage, he'll try to talk to them about it and convince them that he's an okay guy, but if they press the matter he'll just stay away from them.


>>>0200 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Martin is no stranger to Thai, and orders a pair of dishes: Tom Yam Talae and Pad Thai with chicksoy. He raises an eyebrow at Mosaic's order, and says "Aiyah, man. More than I could handle."

Before the food arrives he spends a few minutes in the washroom trying to get his hands clea... as clean as possib... uh, less filthy.

>>>2200+ HRS, 06JUN2071: Citymaster: On the Road/Throughout Tacoma>>>
Harris spends an awful lot of time talking on his commlink. At least that’s what you assume he’s doing when he spaces out and stares into the middle distance, smiling or rolling his eyes to conversations that no one else can hear. It might appear like he’s an excellent listener but it’s more likely that he’s simply subvocalizing to spare you all the gory details over whatever or whoever he’s currently mixed up with.

Harris does indeed ride Martin’s ass during most of the shift. Martin somehow offends Harris, perhaps because of his methodical pace. Even after Martin picks up the pace, Harris continues to mock him mercilessly via the teams commlink. Ezekiel’s seemingly random patterns drive Harris up the wall as well but Ezekiel’s silence seems to be more than a little off putting.

The deepweed flows easily during smoke breaks, which are frequent. Harris seems overjoyed to be surrounded by fellow smokers and has quiet the collection on his person. He certainly has some quality deepweed and as the smoke break conversations wear on, it becomes obvious that Harris would be happy to… transact with his fellow crew members. He even hints that he might have some “better shit� hidden in the citymaster.

>>>0200 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>
Harris moves off pretty much as soon as he gets his food. He gives you all one of his trademark shit eating smiles, bobs his skinny shoulders to some unheard music and speaks.
"Eh oms, I need to talk to my girls so I'll be by the 'master. Don't get lost soka?"
With that he turns and slides off into the night, already digging into his meal with eager abandon. Popping the “Ork Nod� to the cook as he heads around back. The cook merely shakes his head and calls back to him. It’s hard to catch exactly what’s said, or’zet was never meant to be spoken with a Thai accent, but it’s something fairly obscene.

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

"Blessed Coyote, can you guys here that? That's a friggin' alarm for a chemical attack. Someone's hittin' Ft. Lewis!"

Jumping to his feet, he looks at his coworkers, obviously shocked.

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

"In the names of Tyr, ist you sure? Ich would rather not be hearing Odin's call from nothingk but a gas!" come the big troll's reply to Alans alarm. S*P cocks his head to listen, trying to make something out over the noise of food being cooked. Of course, too many hours of old metal like Finntroll and Enslaved have screwed any chance of that.

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>
Ezekiel had been taking his time eating, but at Alan's alarm he hunched over and began shoveling down his rice.

"What should we do?" he said between masses of rice, which, at this point, he was eating half standing and even more hunched than before. He wasn't quite sure of the implications of it all, and his lack of knowledge of the area didn't help his understanding of the situation, but if they needed to leave, he was ready to leave.

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

He'd taken note of some intriguing things throughout the day, things he had been distracted from looking into until his meal had arrived. By that time he was on his fourth Thai iced tea, reveling in the sugar high that came with each successive one. While he tests the spice level of the salad, finding the chilis to be quite thoroughly hot, and thus to his liking, he makes a gesture with his free hand, opening up a pair of search windows.

`Anyone else notice the amount of bugs out there while we were cleaning up? Like freakish amounts of them.`

He opens up two searches simultaneously, dipping into various webs of data to try and much up anything on recent reports of infestation that he can find, and at the same time looking for any reports of geological events - earthquakes and the like - which may have opened up a fissure for deep cave life to be present. While he may be mentioning bugs, and they were just mucking through a nasty load of them, he doesn't seem to be bothered.

After a few minutes of poking about, he gets fickle, filing away the information he's found and taking a different tack. With a gesture he opens up a link to the MAC home node. While he was usually quite analytical with his approach, he's on a tear of info-searching, and he decides to break right in and see if he can find anything report-wise, or hush hush about the infestations there. Two problems face him, of course... he's hacking high, and he's starting to trip the astral thanks to Harris' offer of much needed Deepweed, and then Alan's alarm distracts him.

`Wha, alarm?` He coughs a moment, blinking at the chili heat rolling down his throat. `Whereat?

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Kerrigan glances over her shoulder towards the window and shrugs. "Since when is it our job to deal with problems? There's likely not even anything we can do about it... " She sighs. "This sucks. I wanna challenge. Stomping rats is boring... why can't we find a wendigo to kill or something? maybe a ghoul enclave bent on terrorizing the city! or Vampires. That would be awesome!"

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>
The staff of the Thai place shifts uncomfortably at Alan's outburst and the younger staff look to the older ork for guidance. She snorts and flicks her hand towards the stove, dissmissively telling them to get back to work.

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

S*P looks at his comrades calmly, though with a bit of a grin. Given the tusks on the Finn, he looks either like he's going to eat someone or start growling.

"Well, what ist we do? Charge and see das problem, or prepare fo mini-ragnarok? Und Kerrigan, Infecteds ist dangerous. We send most of them to Niefhel like das cowards they be. We send ghouls to Valhall, where manys of them belong." S*P adds, considering the dangers back home, thinking of the damned Jotuns.

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Martin is momentarily confused, but after listening to the alarm a moment he focuses again, and smiles, a little wryly. "Uh, guys? That's from Fort Lewis. They have alarms and drills all the time. I don't think it's a chemical attack."

He shovels another forkful of pad thai into his mouth. He looks toward the door as he chews, and seeing it remain closed, he lowers his voice so that it doesn't carry past the table. "I think you're right about the bugs, Mosaic. My detection spell was going all kinds of nuts. Do you think the teams that cleared those sites before were faking the data?"

"Are you sure? I think I saw it on the trid some time ago." Alan sits down again, still nervous, and taps something out on his commlink. After about half a minute, he presses his earbuds deeper into his ears and seems to listen to something.

"I'm a stupid fool. You're right. I must have misremembered the damn trideo documentary. It's really not the proper alarm. Sorry if any of you had an heart attack."



"If those bugs were strange I've got another strange thing for you. Harris has dropped little pills after we were finished. They contained some kind of liquid that evaporated and which smells strange. I've been picking up that scent all night."

>>>0210 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Kerrigan sighs and pushes her plate away. "Why do I have the feeling that you're going to decide that this is something we need to take care of immediately, rather than report it and let the higher-ups deal with it?"

She rises to her feet and stretches. "Well, I s'pose I should come along... make sure you guys don't get yourselves killed..."

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

"Because we ist going to earn ours keeps withouts giving politician credits?" S*P asks, once again grinning, "Ands they are nots the only ones who mights needs help. Du little gun ist not much use in hand to hand, yes?"

The big troll readies his axe, keeping it loose in it's sheathe. Might just get to do battle after all. Hopefully won't need to hurt too many of them.

Kerrigan blinks at S*P, then slowly backs away. "You brought that thing in here with you? Are you FRAGGIN CRAZY?! WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAVE IT IN THE CITYMASTER?!" She yells at him.

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

S*P tries to hold back his laughter, but fails somewhat miserably. 'Great, now I look like an axe wielding psychopath...' he thinks still chuckling. A few second later, when the rather fearsom laughter has subsided, the troll thinks he ought to point something, rather useful out.

"Wouldst you like to be caught without ykkarr weapon Kerrigan? You may be scared, but I woulds not like to need to fight with mien hands." he explains.

Then, it hits him: He's a troll in powder blue uniform carrying a big axe, talking about Finland.

The laughter starts again, looking even more strange as S*P tries to explain whats so funny, only increasing the image of madness.

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Already standing, Alan only has to take a few steps to stand between S*P and Kerrigan. "OK, please calm down everybody." To S*P "Please keep that thing sheathed and try not draw any more ...", turning to Kerrigan, "... attention to us. Why don't we all stop...", turning back to S*P, "...making loud noises, sit back down and talk real nice and quiet like about whatever is going on?"
Alan walks back over to his chair, turns it to face Kerrigan and S*P and - assuming they do calm down -continues with a lowered voice "First. Again I'm sorry. I should have compared the alarm I was hearing with the official ones instead of blurting out the way I did.. As Martin already pointed out, it's probably just one of the usual alarms from Ft. Lewis. And if it were a chemical attack I wouldn't advise heading towards it."
Alan sighs, takes another sniff from his half empty soup bowl and talks again.
"So, secondly all I know is that Harris has dropped some pills while checking our work. Perhaps it's part of the cleaning procedure and supposed to keep the bugs away for all I know. I just find it suspicious that Harris doesn't mention it and even tries to hide the fact. So what should we do? In my opinion: stay calm, look out for more strange or suspicious things and try to find out whether Harris is up to something and if so, what. And unless we get some proof we won't get far accusing Harris of doing exactly what? Loitering in the middle of a trash heap?"
He looks around and asks "So, what do you think?"

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

"You know, I noticed him dropping one, but I didn't think anything of it. If it was part of the job, they'd have told us about it in the manual. But if they smelled funny... Could there be a connection? If it's some sort of roach, uh, pheremone, could Harris be guaranteeing himself future business?"

He thinks for a second, slurping up a mouthful of noodle. "No, that doesn't make sense. MAC doesn't pay by commission, we're all paid by the hour. Maybe we should keep an eye on Harris to see if he does it again. Maybe someone could get a vidclip of it. My glasses are set up to record, anyone else?"

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

"Does anyone think they could palm one of the pills after he drops it?" Kerrigan speaks up. "Maybe, if we can get ahold of it, we could figure out what it is before we go deciding he's trying to destroy the city or something."

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>


Alan shakes nods his head as Martin speculates about Harris' motivation. "Yeah I haven't figured that out too. Maybe he's getting payed to test the stuff. But that's just one possibility. We need more data to figure that one out. As for recording him, I can't help there. My glasses aren't set up to do it and I didn't bring any of my small cams."



When Karrigan get's to the last part about Harris destroying the city, Alan can't suppress a slight chuckle "Well, I think I shoukd be able to do that, only there's one slight problem: the pills dissolve very quickly so they have to be picked up right behind Harris and put into an airtight container. Maybe if he were distracted right then..." Alan thinks for a moment and then asks smiling "We don't by chance have an airtight container that can be closed by remote? Hm, let's check." Alan uses his commlink, muttering under his breath something about gear listings...

>>>0211 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Alan's proposal is interesting. "I like that. I don't know about anyone else, but I've been getting a real sleaze vibe off Harris since we started out tonight. I'm feeling mean enough to nail him with his own scheme. Check under 'Live Traps'. I thought I saw something like that in the manual."

Martin finishes his Thai and stacks the styroplast plate and bowl on the tray. He sips thoughtfully at his soykola. "As far as distractions... I bet I could keep a rat or something calm and still until it needs to jump out. That might cause a fuss. Or maybe someone could take him up on his offer of 'better stuff' at just teh right moment."

>>>0212 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>
As you talk a stealthed but low flying Lone Star helo ghosts overhead. It's retina fusing bright searchlight plays almost lazily over the grade C response areas surrounding you. Distantly, a crackle of small arms fire from some drunken gangers mark it's passing.

>>>0212 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Alan nods in Martin's direction "Thanks for the tip, found just the right thing for the job. And I think, springing a rat at him might be the other option. Unless someone wants to fess up to being a good actor, that is."

>>>0212 HRS, 07JUN2071: Hole-in-the-Wall Thai Food>>>

Kerrigan looks around and sighs. "Well are we done with the plotting? I'm bored and ready to get going! Let's hop to it!" She turns and marches out the door and in the direction of the citymaster.