"Gang violence has almost tripled in the last week. Lone Star representatives were not immediately available for a response. This is Katy Namuraui for....." The last part of the trid-cast is cut off by random noise from the street.

One by one you get commcalls or comm-messages from your main fixer. They promise you a cushy job for fat wads of yen, oh and that they had to really work some magic to get you an in (No doubt as a reason to explain their cut). They are awaiting your reply.

Seattle, Tacoma, 10.00

Stray's morning exercise routine gets interrupted by her commlink beeping. The young adept quickly stands up, wipes her hands on her shorts - the floor got a bit dusty again, but she just cleaned it last week! - and grabs her Sony Emperor from her matress. Sweating and slightly out of breath she answers the call from her fixer. When she hears about a "cushy job for fat wads", she almost squeals with glee - she needs the money.

Commlink pressed to her ear she leans on the wall at the window, watching the street through broken blinds while she asks her fixer for details about the job, and where to meet the Johnson. Not accepting the job never even crosses her mind.

Redmond Barrens, some time, some day

Flash had felt like killing someone, today. Sometimes, that urge - the bloodlust - took over. She knew she shouldn't do what she was about to do, but she could'nt avoid it.

So there she was, in some unknown part of the city, a damp place with very few lights, a back alley of some sort. She didn't know that place, but she knew exactly what she was about to do. She was going to kill. There was sulfur and smoke in the air, and she could feel that she was holding a knife in her right hand. She touched the cold blade with her sweaty fingers and even cut herself with it. The pain was exhilarating. She licked her finger while going through the door that was in front of her. Inside was a room she had never seen before. A dark place with bare plumbing and electrical cords hanging from the ceiling. In that room was a man tied on a chair and gagged. She approached him, touched his face. It was a smooth face - the man must have been a white-collar worker, some kind of low-level corp wage-slave. It didn't matter. Killing was fun every time, no matter who the victim was. She ungagged him and the man screamed. But there was no one to hear him. No one to save him. The screaming excited her. She cut the man's face slightly. Blood flowed slowly and the man on the chair was screaming louder. A deep male voice could be heard as well. "You're going to die, John," said the voice with confidence. And the man was screaming even more and watching his killer with fury and hatred and fright. Then suddenly she stabbed him right in the belly. It must have hurt like hell, and his screaming was getting dry and faded a little. He even begged for mercy. They often did. But she didn't care. This man was going to die and there was nothing anyone could do to save him. Slowly she brought up the long knife to his throat. There was no word to describe the amount of fear that could be seen in his eyes. No word to describe the amount of pleasure that she felt because of it. The time to end his suffering finally came. She cut his throat opened swiftly, and the blood splashed on her and she greatly enjoyed the feeling. There was blood on her face, in her eyes, on her lips. She felt ecstatic, it was better than sex. Then the recording stopped and erased itself. It was all over. Until next time... she thought.

It took Flash a short moment to come back to the real world. Her modified hotsim module running the dreamchip had taken over her senses completely and she had even ignored the signal she had received about an incoming message a few minutes ago. She was sweating and her heart was pounding. She took a few minutes to continue to enjoy the moment, her eyes closed.

Flash finally got up and poored herself a glass of water, while checking with her image link what the message had been. She was offered an easy job that paid well... that was impossible in the shadows and she knew it. But it didn't mean she was going to refuse it. She'd just have to be extra careful, that was all. She sent a quick reply to say that she was available and interested, and to ask for more details about the job. Then went to the kitchen and prepared a meal.

PSI Dormitory #2

Discharge took the call from his fixer, but went out on the patio to field it. He got a few suspicious looks from the rest of his team, but nobody was really interested in what he did in his free time anymore. When he got outside, Blaze was smoking a cigarette, but after a warning spark from Discharge, he stamped out the half-finished cigarette and went inside muttering something about a "bugzapper".

The news of a new job was welcome, and sounded like a lot of money, but Discharge wanted assurance that this wasn't going to be a fiasco like the body-guarding job, last week. The comm suddenly went dark - whether because Discharge's electric field finally overloaded the thing, or because the Fixer was using his electricity problem as an excuse to end the call early.

Cursing, Discharge went back into the dorm to gather his things - including his spare commlink. Even if the job ended up being worse than the body-guarding gig, he wouldn't be able to refuse. His bankroll was almost where it needed to be to start shopping for brain surgery. Unfortunately, he was going into this job more blind than usual.

Pullyallup, Seattle, UCAS

Tes winces as he applies the last of the disinfectant to a spectacular slash across his ribs - the previous night's run had turned close-up and personal, and some of the blade work on the other side had been really quite skillful. Tes is home alive, but hardly unscathed - also broke, since the Johnson had been dead when Tes went to go collect payment.

Tes paws through the medkit, trying to sort items by how long ago they expired. His 'link goes off, and starts spouting words like "big payoff," "easy as pie," and "I'm doing you a favor." A healthy string of Or'zet curses, guaranteed to curdle fresh soymilk, is just getting ready in Tes' head when he turns over a bottle of painkiller with a full-color image of the late Dunkelzahn, and faded text proclaiming "Special Inaugural Commemorative Bottle!"

Tes chokes back his reply, slams the medkit shut and accepts the job, gingerly rubbing the cut on his ribs. Meditating on the words "fat wad of nuyen," Tes uncovers his weapon stash and starts stripping and cleaning the Alpha.

Golden Tiger Tea Garden

On the table Crane chased Butterflies past Boar and Swallow under the steady gaze of Sun and Moon as Phoenix gazed on placidly perched on the empty sake cup. An empty cup, hand made ceramic from Kyoto, not the Sake card. Sake lay still waiting it's turn as the other went through their ambulations. Jimmy No inhaled loudly. The stack of carousing hanafuda cards all fell to the table top like a troop of well trained soldiers upon hearing the enemy. Yukika looked at the interuptor admonishingly.

In unaccented North American dialect the middle aged asian man commented, "Practicing dealing is what I tell everyone at the door."

Inclining her head in supple acknowledgement the young asian woman replied with a mildly accented , "I practice." Sweeping her arms over the table she collected up the deck and started a series of shuffles and practice deals. As the cards slid smoothly across the table top to their appointed places she said, "You are not sure if you should ask me? You will not get an answer unless you speak of it."

Jimmy No smiled and locked the door prior to seating himself. "I was offered an independent contract which I declined. You know I am no longer as indiscrete and active as I once was. There is however a need, so I offered to find a suitable replacement."

"No one can replace you No San."

The man smiled wider, "True."

"And I certainly cannot do the things you do, this person will be dissappointed to see me instead of such a capable person as yourself."

His face snapped into stillness, and his posture straightened even more, "It is sufficient that I gave my personal word that you could perform the task. Besides, I informed him that you are the one I rely on to take care of things I cannot handle. And that you are my primary backup."

"Ah then I have no choice."

Jimmy No grinned again, "Yep, that's the way I am with my women. Besides, you are the one who said you needed to get out more often. The contact information is on your comm."

He got up and unlocked the door, pausing to comment as he stepped out, "The Fat wads aren't the ones Butterfly's customers have. In case you were worried about that."

All the cards missed him as he sidestepped out of the doorway.

Puyallup 10:30
Jasper threw the last empty can of his six pack into the big toolbox. He laid in the back of his pickup truck inside his shipping container. He was watching a Trid on his comlink and petting his Nissan Doberman. "You know what we need Bud?" he said as he scratched the stubble on his chin. "we need a real trid player. the micro trid justs doesn't do these movies justice. I mean i could watch Sim flicks, but you ever try to drink a beer while in one of those?"
The buzz of the comcall was barely heard over Gun Bunnies 12, But it still managed to irritate Jasper."seems like every time i get my feet up bud, I swear"
Mrs. Johnson sounded sexy as ever. Jasper wondered if she could cook. She sounded a little more excited than usual. She started talking about big payoffs and owin her favors. Well aint she just as proud as a pregnant peacock. A few red flags were popping up in the back of Jaspers mind, but he learned a long time ago, a starving man will eat anything. He told her to send him the details.

Tacoma 10.30

Sprawled in a classic cinema chair Rossi glances over at the beeping commlink in the corner. After a few long moments the message downloading tone finally cut out, replaced instead with a single chime indicating he had new mail.

"Someday I really should speak to the landlord about the damn signal in this place," he muttered as he hit the off button for the authentic projector. The ancient flat, so old it was barely known when his parents were born, up on the screen cut out leaving the room lit by nothing by the sunlamps in the garden.

Rossi brushed the creases out of his suit and the went to check out the message. "A new job? No... a cushy job? Hell that sounds like the prelude to a disaster," he complains with a sigh. "Ah well. The rent /is/ almost due again, guess it's time to make ends meet."

Using the commlinks little keypad he types in his reply and then drops it back on the table.
-- I'm interested Paco. You got any details on the what/why/who and the where for me? Or better still on the how much. --

"Guess it's time to get ready for work," he tells a little nearby orange tree. "Maybe get this placed fixed up enough to keep a gardening drone."

Puyallup 10:35
Jasper can't focus on the movie anymore. He's thinking too much about the upcomming job. He turns off the trid and pulls up the AR and the clearsight autosoft on his van. "Lets see if we can't crack this copy protection hey Charlene?"

11:02:32, Docks, Tacoma, Seattle

<<Everything looks calm No sign of any hidden guests. Bring out the package>>

Nuke laughed to himself as he listened to the intercepted message. The exchange was taking place over half a mile away, unfolding before the massive suppressor of his sniper rifle.

The hacker was sprawled out on a mat atop a container, freshly unloaded from a barge docked on the far side of the inlet. His IR shrouded chameleon suit turned his rough outline into just another shadow among the big metal boxes. Ten feet behind him, the satellite uplink carried his signal directly to a low orbit communications satellite, then back down to the local grid, and eventually to the node of a BMW 400GT his employer had driven to the meeting.

The call had come late last night, looking for overwatch for a quick two minute exchange. Snoop some wireless traffic to get advance warning if a double cross was coming, and play guardian angel to get the client out if things went south. Easy money.

So far, everything had gone according to plan. His client showed up with a briefcase full of certified credsticks. The other party showed up in a Bulldog stepvan, backed by a pair of shooters two hundred meters from the meeting site who had arrived on motorcycles. Neither had been bright enough to slave or skinlink his smartgun, so in addition to his own eyes, Nuke was watching the meet through their Ingram White Knights. The other side’s negotiator got out of the step van and walked across the empty lot.

The client walked up to the negotiator. The conversation came in stereo from his own link to his client and through the intercepted link on the other side. The tone was brief, but civil. Cases were exchanged, and the men retreated to their respective vehicles. The shooters kept their light machineguns trained on the sports sedan, and Nuke kept his rifle on them.

The incoming mail notification was ignored. It would doubtlessly be the client, informing him that his obligation was fulfilled and providing payment. Instead, Nuke waited, curious to see how the other shooters would exfiltrate. He was disappointed to see them stand up from their positions on the roof, walk over to a fire escape, climb down to a waiting car, and drive away.

Probably a fake to draw me out. Time to wait them out.

Attention still focused on the now empty roof, Nuke opened the email, expecting to find a quick word of thanks and notice of payment. Instead, he found a message from Bernie, promising big cred for light work. He sent the message confirming his interest immediately. The deal sounded like it would stink, but if it didn’t, it’d be easy money.

Then came the email from the client confirming completion of the job, and confirmation of payment.

Time to spend some cash. Watching the meeting site through his subscribed cybereyes, Nuke dropped into hot VR and set about searching for a beefed up agent to replace the dummy searchbot from his MSP.



Software found and downloaded, he set about configuring the persona options for the agent program.

Form…Humanoid.
Gender…Female.
Archtype…Secretary
Demeanor…Cheerful

The rest of the options faded into a blur as the hacker tweaked. Twenty minutes later, satisfied with both the agent persona and the inactivity at the site, he slid off the top of the container and vanished into the container farm.

Time variable to contact

@Rossi: Hey ese, glad you can take the offer. You get to meet the lady Johnson tommorrow night at 1040 sharp. That's night time homes. Place is called Ticklers...hah! Told you it was a sweet deal, just dont blow it by watching the chicas and not your manners, k?

@Stray: Now didnt I tell you that if I represented you that you'd go far? Okay, before you bring up old biz, remember you had to make a name for yourself. Meets tommorrow at Ticklers, I know you've tried to avoid those places, but you go where the money is .

@Snowflower: Jimmy pokes his head back in smiling "Another thing, the meet is in a place that isnt full of friends, so watch your step..oh, and your just going to love the place." The commlink flashes the words Mrs. Johnson, and Ticklers 1040 pm.

@Discharge: You feeling okay to work? Its an easy one anyways. Meet Mrs. J at a club called Ticklers, 1040 pm sharp and dont be late. It's not just your rep on the line here.

@Nuke: There is coughing from the old man "Got an easy score for you kid, you were the first one I thought of when I picked up on it. Didnt think you'd believe me [laughter] , anyways the meets at Ticklers, I'm sure you've been there. Mrs. J holds court at 1040 pm."


@Flash: The Shadowboard shows a verification number and a commcode number to reach in case of interest. The following recorded message is played in a monotone voice. "Thank you for showing interest in this offer. If you are serious please attend the meeting at [street address for club] at 1040 pm tommorrow." A sterner monotone voice begins "This message is for user 3327-APG-6GP99/4K5 unauthorized use may result in reputation damage, or if the offended party gets their hands on you, a serious threat to body or property."

@Jasper: Ms. Johnsons voice is a sultry as ever "You really should attend the meet, I saved a spot just for you, besides we both remember that little incident you caused dont we? 1040 pm sharp."

@Tes: The Fixer from your last run, the one that went bad "Look, I owe you this, and its a cake walk. Okay okay, well maybe I need this as well as you do. You werent the only one screwed on that job you know. Come on what do you say? Meets tommorrow night at a strip club called Ticklers, 1040 pm she want everyone there by then.....what'ya say chum?"

"Cake walk?" Yeah, I don't believe in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny either.
"I'll be there. But I will personally supervise your seppuku if this goes south again."

His gear collected and doubled checked Rossi went for his commlink, rolling his eyes at the implication he wasn't professional enough. Catching manually driven cab he fires off a short text based reply @Paco -- I'll be there and don't worry, I know how to keep my cool. It /is/ why you pay me after all. --

Then, after trying to remember which gangs are in charge in that part of town, he dialled a call in to Johnny The Rat.
"Hey Johnny, what's the word on the street about a place called Ticklers? Anything I should know before making a visit?"

Seattle, Tacoma, 10.10

Picture

"Meets tommorrow at Ticklers, I know you've tried to avoid those places, but you go where the money is."

Al's word make Stray frown at herself. It's not her fault that times were sometimes too lean, and she needed the money... it was actually partially Al's fault, through no fault of his own though. But if this run comes through she'll be set! She feels giddy at the thought.

Big Leagues, here I come! No more waitressing!

The adept tells Al she'll be there, then after a second of thinking asks if they have some dress rule there, and what about weapons. Stray doesn't want to blow her chance by not even getting allowed to the meeting.

Once Al has hung up Stray's still so pumped up that the rest of her morning training - more push-ups, then strike and kick repetitions - passes very quickly. After wiping her hands on a towel she cleans and checks her Remington 990 and her Ares Predator IV - they'll have to work perfectly tomorrow, mumbling instructions to herself while she works on the parts.

Afterwards she rinses down the sweat and oil in the shower - no hot water, but today she doesn't mind. A Run! Stray wishes it was tomorrow already.

Redmond Barrens

Flash finishes eating as her boyfriend comes down the stairs of their home, looking tired.

- "Zach, I'll be off tomorrow evening, so don't count on me to be around in the next few days, I don't know what my job will be just yet."
- "Sure honey, just be careful out there."
- "You know how good I am, I wouldn't even need to be careful."

She winks with amusement, wanting to believe what she just said. I dunno how it'll go, but I'm glad I finally got work again...

Docks, Tacoma, Seattle

Nuke makes a quick mental note of the place and time, firing back his response as he slinks through the maze of cargo containers.

"Ticklers, eh? As long as it'll keep the Tongs off my back for a little longer, you know I'll be there. Stupid loansharks. I guess that's why they call them that. You borrow money from them and they turn you into a shark. Can't stop swimming or you drown. What do you know about Mrs. Johnson?"

Discharge was about to ask a few questions when the commlink went black. All he had was the time and place, and the uneasy feeling that his fixer had cut the connection to insure that was all he had. Reputations? he thought to himself as he headed inside to get his things. ...as if either of us have a reputation worth a damn.

He grabbed his spare commlink - his last spare, he noted - and briefly considered firing back a quick response saying he was taking the job. After a moment's hesitation, he decided against it. If he fried this one, he would be out of communication until he got a chance to hit up an electronics store. Besides, this way, Discharge had the option to walk away if he got there and things looked bad - he could claim he never got the whole message.

Plus, he still needed this one to navigate him to 'Ticklers'.

Puyallup Barrens
Women, they hold every little mistake against you for the rest of your life.Jasper Made a note of the time and place and kept on working on the autosoft until he passed out in the back of the truck. His commilnk alarm woke him up at 6,"well bud, I'm gonna finish crackin this bad boy and you and me are gettin some breakfast. " He looks up Ticklers on the matrix and maps for the surrounding area, finding a spot to eat in the general location."yep, time fer some reconnaissance and the poorest excuse for grits since polenta" I should probably track down a dummy commlink while i'm out and about too.

Golden Tiger Tea Garden

She picked up the cards, then succumbed to that little nagging feeling, and checked the message again.

"NO!"

In the hallway she could hear a chuckle moving off. Yukika shook her head once, then stepped out the door and started making her round to let all the proper people know she wouldn't be running her table tonight. After that she would have only an hour or so to get to Ticklers, since Jimmy No had allowed her to find out for herself that the meeting was for this very evening.

03/02/71 22:38:56 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)


It's unseasonably warm for this time of year, however that has invited the rains to fall early and more frequent. They say on the news that it's a sign for an unusually warm summer season to come. The rain is light and follows on the gusts of wind in wavering sheets. The alley way is reasonably clean for this part of town, perhaps its the rain that's waterlogged the usual debris of a modern society, keeping it from wandering and cluttering together in heaping messes. The rain has also washed away the "normal" smells of the area. The alley way is well lit except for the side door into the establishment, the light above the door is either not working or not on, leaving it to lie within the shadows.

02-Mar-2071, 22:08:59, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

The big chopper roars into the parking lot, its’ rider’s eyes darting around as he searches for a parking space. Monday nights are never big nights for going out, and the usual crowd of workers from the F-B shipyard to the east have largely headed home, abandoning the club to the mafia for the night. The high end cars that fill the lot are decidedly out of place in the working class neighborhood.

The young Mohawk reaches inside his jacket, touching the frame of the big pistol hidden under his sweatshirt and jacket then backs the rumbling motorcycle into a parking space between a Range Rover and a Westwind. Nuke drops the kickstand, spends a few seconds straightening the dark blue bandana holding his hair back, kills the motor, and heads for the door.

As he gets within range, the peeler bar’s node bombards his decoy commlink with information about the club, including the profiles on all the night’s entertainers, bar menu, and a lot of hype about the tawdry and illicit private champagne rooms. Nuke mutters under his breath and dials down the opacity on the AR glasses.

�Can’t believe I’m back here. If it isn’t the slack jawed, knuckle dragging mobsters thinking I’m one of their 1%er lackeys, it’s the molested stepdaughters thinking I’m too dumb to notice that they’re only interested in me when I’m giving them money. I guess it could be worse. The stink of baby oil, cheap perfume, and desperation washes off pretty easy, and there is money to be made.�

The bouncer gets a cursory upnod of acknowledgement as he walks past, towards the side door further down the block. Broken glass and garbage crunch under his boots as he spots his destination. The side door glows softly on infrared, warmed by the air inside, highlighting it against the smog stained brick wall it is recessed into. After surveying the alley in front of him, he continues past the door, and leans against the wall, glancing back the way he came.

And waiting.

03/02/71 22:10:04 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Stray parks her scooter on the edge of the parking lot near Tickler's, checking if the luggage compartment is locked up before sending a few nuyen to the node that controls the drones watching the lot before starting off toward the side alley she's supposed to be at 10 PM sharp. She sneaks a jealous glance at the big chopper parked on the lot - once she's got the money she'll buy herself something bigger too. Maybe not a chopper, but a nice racing bike...

The young adept nods at the bouncer, walking past him and wondering if the club's dancers use the side entrance too. She'd like to push her hands inside the pockets of her jacket, but that might make the wrong people nervous. Better leave her hands where others can see them while she walks into the side alley. Her sunglasses give her an enhanced picture of the alley, low-light vision compensating for the darkness while she moves around garbage and broken glass with a dancer's grace. "Always keep your footing", as Mel told her.

When she spots the mohawk she stops for a second, trying to guess his intention. The weight of the ares predator under her jacket reassures her, but not too much.

March 2, 2071 22:11:04 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Flash arrived near the meet not knowing what to expect. She had been offered a part in this through the Shadow board and it was possible that the other runners would be connected and know of each other.

She parked her car two blocks down and walked towards the back alley. This was the kind of place she was used to, sadly. The Redmond Barrens were mostly a lot worse than this, including the neighbourhood where her gang operated.

Turning the corner, she finds a Mohawk man and a nice-looking girl, standing near the bouncer. She approaches in the lighted path to show that she isn't a threat. It's not like most people would expect that very cute, petite, blond human to be much of a treath anyway, but runners are unpredictable.

She approaches the two and nods to each one in turn. Then she waits for others to show up.

March 2, 2071 22:40:00 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Discharge exited the cab a block or so away from Ticklers. His account was automatically debited - or so he assumed - and he walked confidently towards the club. Great. Rain. He tried not to think about the danger he was probably walking in to, but that tactic did not work. As the first wave of anxiety washed over him, he felt his leg shake and the muscles in his left arm contract uncontrollably. His confident stride broke, and it was all he could do to control his breathing, and calm himself down, in order to keep going.

By the time he reached Ticklers, he must have looked like a junky emerging from the shittier part of the night. His face was pale, his gait uncertain, and his mannerisms just a little bit "twitchy". As he passed the bouncer, Discharge hardly glanced at him. He was distracted by the intense sensation of the cloud of electronic devices nearby, and took a moment to lean against the wall, and get a better look at the field he was about to walk into.

He felt a number of devices in the area - noticing, for the first time, one of the drones patrolling overhead - and a mass of devices just inside. The bouncer was giving off a strong signal, himself, and was plastered in the usual dull hum of RFID tags that most people wore - he also had some cyberware, but that did not strike Discharge as anything unusual. From the nearby alley, Discharge also felt some electronic activity - a handful of minor devices, significantly less tag-noise, and the presence of a similarly unsurprising amount of cyberware: wired reflexes, smartguns, commlinks, at least one limb. There were certainly some shadowrunners back there.

Discharge's attention was drawn back to the bouncer when he felt the field around his body moving closer. His eyes snapped open, and the bouncer stopped. "Move along. If you're going to puke, take it to the street." The large man's hand shifted, without subtlety, into his overcoat - presumably towards the smartgun Discharge had sensed near him a moment ago.

"I'm good." muttered Discharge, pushing himself off of the wall and finding he was feeling better. "...with them." He said, flicking a thumb towards the alley. The bouncer made a face that made it clear he was not impressed, but that it was not his problem, and he went back to his post at the door.

Discharge took a deep breath and walked around the corner, apparently unaware that he was cutting his deadline quite close. As he entered the alley, his sense of the E-fields became clearer, and were much easier to correlate with the people he saw there. He didn't look like much - a bald young man, in a black jumpsuit which was decorated with neon-blue lines. His irises seemed to spark like tiny light-blue Van de Graff generators - but cyber eyes, or color-changing lenses were hardly worth a second glance.

The strangest thing about his "look" was that there did not seem to be a good place to hide a weapon on his jumpsuit - he not only seemed unarmed, but appeared to be advertising that fact.

March 2, 2071 22:35:00 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

After catching as late a taxi as possible Rossi is dropped off a short walk from Ticklers. Walking briskly he flicked his commlink onto hidden mode and approached the alleyway. The crisp lines of his freshly washed suit seem terribly out of place surrounded by the piles of trash, not that it seems to bother him in the least.

The smartly dressed young man waves affably to those already gathered. "Waiting for Mrs J I presume?"

02-Mar-2071, 2213:24, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Nuke is awkwardly silent as the human woman, and then the elven girl join him in the less than thrilling game of ‘loiter in the cold, dank alley’. Each gets a nod of acknowledgement but no eye contact.

Boots. Jeans. Dark glasses. Heavy armor jacket. Probably carrying. Guess this job does have a uniform.

After a minute or two, each gets a halting �Hello.�, before the quiet one goes back to looking around the alley.

02-Mar-2071, 22:37:24, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Tes parks his Mirage just outside the club, futiley trying to shake rain off of his jacket as he shuts off the bike. He gives the bouncer a quick once-over, ordering his various pieces of 'ware to run a diagnostic before he takes the plunge. He pauses a moment, watching the rain drip off the brim of his shabby oilskin hat. The gentle pressure of the concealed vibroknife is a comfort, as well as the other little insurances he's scattered around his person. The cheap flats are hot and stuffy under his armored jacket. With a small bow to the impassive bouncer, he steps around to the side alley, stops and bows again to the small group already assembled.
Cakewalk, my ass. This is a goddam army.
Pausing to dump the collected rainwater off of his hat once again, Tes moves further into the alley, meditating on poverty, desperation and fate. He stands against a building, facing the side door of Tickler's, being careful to keep his hands visible and free.

3/2/2071 10:38
PAN: hidden SIN: Jeff Talbot

Jasper had found a spot early and watched the parade into the ally. This job must be big for this kind of crowd. After waiting as long as he could, He made his way to the side door. "Hey ya'll, any body mind if I smoke?" he says as he pulls a pack of smokes slowly and obviously from his shirt pocket.

03/02/71 22:13:35 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

"Hello."

Stray greets both the Mohawk and the elf. Both seems to be waiting here, so they might be waiting for the same job. As more and more arrive the young adept starts to wonder if this is a sort of casting, and who will make the cut.

If this is all for one job... with so many we could take on an army...

Stray looks everyone that arrives over, trying to guess their speciality.

03/02/71 22:39:00 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

The deadline is near and runners are showing up one after the other under the gaze of Flash.

She answered everyone who tried small talk with a smile and a short "Hi". Flash would usually be a lot more talkative but she felt a bit nervous, especially because of the number of people showing up.

Maybe this is a job that requires more than one group, or else there must be some kind of misunderstanding. It better pay well if we're really going to split the payment in a dozen parts!

02-Mar-2071, 22:39:14, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Nuke shrugs noncommittally at the dwarf’s request to smoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the agent’s persona, in its’ Idle animation. The virtual secretary sits, legs crossed, in an invisible chair, doing its’ nails. In reality, the program was aggressively scanning his PAN for intrusions, but background functions wouldn’t have an animation.

He gulps subconsciously and pulls the darkened AR glasses from his face, tucking them into the top of his sweatshirt.

“Anyone got any guesses who the mob’s about to declare war on?�

"The mob? You know something I don't, omae."

"Nothing concrete. Was here a few weeks ago, and saw the place full of what looked like mob guys. Two and two, you know."

03/02/71 22:39:20 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Stray freezes for a split-second when she hears about the mob. She owes the yakuza... if this is the mob, and they send her against the yakuza...

Damn! I am screwed!

Tes shakes more water from his hat, thinking.

"Interesting." the ork glances around at the group, "Anyone work with Cosa Nostra before and can shed a little light on this? I mean, unless they're holding auditions, they've got quite a selection of Seattle's finest here, so ka?"

It was time. Yukika entered the alley, her lesser kami had told her of the ones already waiting, the cars in the streets, the loneliness of the rooftops, and the kind of night it was inside the club. Of course the complexity of excitement, despair and hope in these kind of places were far beyond the lesser Kami abilities to convey, but knowing the numbers gathered for the meeting versus the disposition of the people inside was good enough.

Her stain resistant boots clicked on the street as she approached under her bamboo and lacquered paper umbrella. The rain would work it's way through eventually, but it would protect her coiled up hair for tonight. The trench coat she'd left open, revealing a standard sarariman uniform of dark grey silk skirt and short jacket. Under the city lights the weave flickered unsteadily in patterns of kanji script and animal iconography.

03/02/71 22:39:40 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Flash felt like right before the meet wasn't exactly the right time to discuss who their employers might be and what they could possibly want from them.

"Well, we'll know soon enough what they want from us, won't we?"

02-Mar-2071, 22:39:46, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Me and my big mouth. Wouldn't be easy money if we were starting a war, and they wouldn't bring in outsiders to clean their own house, unless someone inside is making an internal power play and doesn't want it leading back to him. Should have kept my mouth shut.

Nuke shoves his hands deep into his jacket pockets and looks down, suddenly very interesting in a piece of damp detritus that the rain didn't quite wash away.

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

10:39 pm Ticklers

Jasper takes a drag off his smoke and looks up in thought, Idly checking the light over the door to see if he can tell if it's broken or turned off, " How's the food here? I find the easiest way to tell if a place is a mob run business is to try the food. They tend to have a higher quality of vittles. Sames prolly true for the Yaks, but I ain't no sushi expert. "
Jasper's getting a good vibe from the Indian. he's got a real professional demeanor. the temptation to scan for commlinks is almost overwhelming, but this is no time to start off on the wrong foot. the eye candy in the blond wig looked like she could handle herself, but she smacked of overconfidence. Hopefully it was well deserved.
"you guys here the one about the two guys huntin devil rats?"

03/02/71 22:39:50 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Stray recovers her composure but she's still jumpier than before, and watches the rest of the runners waiting there more attentively than she'd usually do. She's glad she didn't take a job at Tickler's in the past though - if this is a mob club that would have been... complicated. No one seems to recognize her at least from some of her other jobs - that would have been awkward.

02-Mar-2071, 22:39:52, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

�Don’t know. Never eat at them. Don’t like getting body glitter in my dinner.�

The click of the Japanese woman’s boots on the asphalt stands out sharply from the background noise of the sprawl, the crackle of the dwarf’s cigarette, and the conversation at hand. A new directional arrow appears on the compass rose in the corner of Nuke’s field of view, marked with the range and velocity of the new footsteps.

He glances over quickly, then lifts his head and double takes at the sight of the ornate paper umbrella.

Following the Mohawk's eyes to the lady with the parasol, Jasper mutters under his breath,"Sweet lemonade, is this a meet for a job or a beauty pageant, cuz I left my baton In my other dress"

10:40:00 Ticklers backalley entrance

The heavy plasteel door opens with a creak as it moves on rusted hinges. An asian woman with long black hair peaks her head out before stepping into the open doorway. "Good, I see you all made it. Follow me." she says as your eyes take in her slim body covered in only a sheer (and slightly see through) teddy. She turns and walks back inside, her hand raised in a gesture to follow her.

She leads you down the cramped hall, where boxes of synth-ahol are stacked almost haphazardly along the walls. Light spills from a room across the way as she leads you into a large room with a circular couch. (The door reads V.I.P. Champagne Room) If one glances at the room where the light spills, the forms of women in various stages of nudity can be seen. Ms. J ushers you into the room "Please have a seat."

03/02/71 22:40:30 Downtown, Aiki district (Outside of Ticklers)

Stray follows the asian woman inside, peering around. The hall doesn't look that much different from the backstage area of other clubs she danced at.

Ironic... to start into the big leagues in a place like this...

Grinning at her thoughts, the young adept takes a seat, watching the woman, and the other runners. Strangely, the place makes her feel more at ease, and less nervous.

Tes glances up at the scantily-clad hostess and follows her in, pausing at the door to shake the water off his hat and coat.
Tes looks longingly at the crates of synthahol as they pass by; the ghost of sake past stirring in his throat. I'm going to need a serious drink before we're through here. Let's hope that sign means what it says, he thinks, looking hard at the "Champagne Room" sign.

10:40:30 Ticklers; walking towards Champagne Room

Flash follows along, unimpressed by the place, except maybe for its (very) relative cleanliness. She walks into the room after the Johnson, curious about the job they will be offered.

Discharge arrived last, and hung around the rear as the crowd makes its way into the building - everyone there seemed to fit in more with the Shadowrunner scene, and he could almost swear he had seen one or two of them before when he was meeting with his fixer. Discharge doubted anyone recognized him - at least, he hoped nobody recognized him. When directed into the meeting room, he obeyed, even stepping ahead of others who might hesitate at the door. His skin tingled as he felt for the electricity pulsing through the building, and as he entered the room, he felt around for any nearby electronic devices.

02-Mar-2071, 22:41, VIP Area, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Nuke joins the procession of felons for hire into the dark corridors of the club, trying to decide whether to be surprised at an asian stripper wanting to hire him in a club full of Mafioso.

It’s definitely an interesting way to restart a career.

After being shown into the VIP Champagne Room, he waits just inside the door, curious to see who’s going to sit where, before claiming the last empty seat.

"Evening, ma'am."

03/02/71 22:42:05 VIP Area, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Stray leans forward while sitting, attentively looking at Ms. Johnson - if that's really Ms. Johnson, and not just a greeter. The presence of the asian woman, and the asian-looking runner make her think it's less likely that the mafia is behind this, but she's still not sure. She'd like to pace some, just to get moving instead of sitting here, but she fights that urge, instead remaining sitting.

She just moved with the group, not paying much attention to any individual, her head down more to allow her to pay attention to the lesser kami then the avert her gaze from any of the others. Her folded umbrella she set against the wall near the entrance, then removed her long coat and folded it carefully, after which she slid gracefully into a spot on the couch. She looked around once at the room, before returning to looking vacantly into middle space. Now that she was inside, she had to re direct the lesser kami to a different range of movements to offer her the most coverage of the club, alley and neighboring block, and especially to paying more attention to the exits and the routes to them from this room. Absently her hand rubbed the icon of Heron hanging from her ear as she worked.