I'll smash your face in.
But with a smile.
Altogether, you'll never be -
Stronger than ME!

June 14, 2065 – 6:00 AM

It's 6:00 AM, and a sharp pounding on your door alerts you to someone's presence. When you go and examine this disturbance, you find a small letter has been slipped under the door. The peculiar thing about this letter, is that it is sealed with what appears to be melted candle wax. Upon opening it, it reads the following on a small slip of paper inside:

You are summoned tonight, at 7:00 PM, to meet on the docks of Puget Sound, Warehouse #5. Professional skills required. Enter through the front door, and do not be late. Will pay 1000 to you for showing.

Mr. J

Well, that gives you quite a bit of the day to waste away or do whatever you want... Sleeping, anything you want to do.

So... What do YOU do?

University rolls out of bed, a bit concerned. Wandering to the door in his underware, stumbling over small piles of books and dirty laundry, swearing as he steps on his keys. He hops a couple of steps on one foot before discovering the envelope. Reading it, he grunts and scratches his bare shoulder as he throws it on the table with the rest of the mail. Bills past due and course catalogues. Huge student loan bills.

After a shower and a fresh set of clothes, University is a new man. He hops on his moped and heads for campus, saying hello to every third person once he gets there.

He audits four classes that day, and has a drink with a young lady he met just hours earlier, and then heads for the docks on his moped, and then stands outside the door for a few minutes, having a smoke. He gets a funny feeling for a second, checks his watch "Yup, 15 minutes still." He seemingly takes off on his moped, actually circling the neighbourhood for ten minutes, looking for anything suspicious.

Ackly wakes up, and yells, "Go Away!" When he hears the sound of paper slipping against the floor, he gets up, and throws on a pair of pants. He walks over, expecting another flyer from some local thrash band. He got those pretty often, but never this early, and never with anyone banging on the door. He wanted to tell them he didnt like thrash bands, but what can you do.

He bends over and picks up the envolope, openning it as he stands up.

"Drek," he mutters under his breath, "I pay people good money so they dont know where I live." The next thought on his mind is to throw it away and go back to sleep, but he realizes, perhaps fragging with someone who knows your address is bad. "I could always move." Ackly whispers to himself.

When he fishes arguing with himself he walks over to a table and pulls the cover off of a block of wood. One could see the biginnings of a bookshelf in the back of the sculpture, and two heads sicking out among the mass of dark wood. He contined to work on his carving, distracting his thoughts from the letter.

At some point in the day, Becca comes over, whe he hears a knocking at the door, he slips the note under his work, and walks to the door. He opens the door, after looking through the peephole, can't be too careful, and lets Becca into his apartment.

"Whozzit for?" is her first question, looking at the statue.
"The University, I heard from a friend they where looking to buy some new art to display, even buying some local stuff. I'm kinda hoping it will pay next months rent." he replies. Becca just nods her head.

"I have to pull the night shift tonight, I hope you dont mind," Ackly starts, "I have to be down at the docks at 7 sharp, or the boss'll have my hide."

"That still leaves a few hours, let's get something to eat and drink. I hear theres a new thrash band at Briton's, you remember, the Bar and Grill down on 38?"

Of course Ackly remembered, she'd only taken him there a dozen times. The things men will do for a woman, chuckle. "Sure, I just have to leave around six, so I dont end up late."

Becca smiles and almost drags him out the door.

Ackly leaves Briton's a bit late, but he manages to make it to the meet, with just a minute to spare.

[OOC: I'd like to wait for a few more guys to post before updating... ]

Andrei wakes up with a pounding hangover, and groans before he falls out of bed and stumbles to the doorway. He opens it up quickly, takes a look around, and picks up the letter. Then, he opens the door and takes one more look outside before he steps back inside.

"Ад? Это? И воск свечки?*" he mutters in his native Russian, turning over the paper and snapping the candle wax. He takes a couple of looks at it, mutters "Eh, наилучшим образом, работой будет работа.**", tosses it on the table, and falls on the couch to snore again.

Later, at about one or two, he finally wakes up, stumbles to the fridge, opens the freezer and waits, head inside the nice frigid air, telling himself that under no circumstances, will he ever, EVER take up the dare given by any elf again. No matter if there is two of them. The attractive female kind. Not even if the bet is to down only three bottles of Absolut. Never. Never ever again. He falls on the couch, ice on his head, and reads a light and simple Russian novel (about four hundred pages long) before he jumps into Sergei, the truck, and peels off to the meeting place.

He sits in his truck for two minutes and then gets out, making sure that he walks in the door right around the seven o'clock mark.

* (What the hell? What is this? And candle wax?)
** (Eh, well, work is work.)

Gypsy rolls over at the sound of knocking, his dream permanently shattered. He opens one eye slightly, and then wincing as he sees the time, shuts it again immediately afterwards.

"It's fraggin' Sunday. Who the hell knocks this fraggin' early?"

Without moving his body, his Astral form slips free and flies through the wall seperating the small apartment from the hallway. The empty passage tells him the mysterious knocker must not have meant to actually visit, which must mean he or she left some kind of message.

Hoping it's not the kind that goes 'BOOM', he returns his Astral form to his waiting body, then rises and head towards the door, flicking the switch on the coffee maker on the way past.

Upon retrieving the sealed envelope, the elf sits for a moment staring at it until the sound of dripping liquid ceases, telling him that the coffee is ready. Steaming mug in hand, he pries open the envelope and scans the contents several times, trying in vain to identify the handwriting, more than a little troubled at the prospect of some unknown Johnson having his address.

Still and all, a job offer is a job offer, and what with the cost of tuition and books and everything else these days, he can't really afford to turn down too many opportunities without actually hearing them out.

Glancing again at the clock by the bed, he drains the last of his coffee, then lays back down, knowing he has lots of time till the meet.