OOC: Use this thread for everything IC.

Posting Rules

Just like almost everyone else on the board I'm gonna be stealing Redjack's posting structure, so here you go.

All your posts should begin with a time/date stamp in orange, detailing location, time, and date. Underneath, in italics, add your PAN mode, hidden, active, or passive, in dark grey.

- - "Speech color=cyan"
- - <Coms (subvocal) color=violet>
- - <Coms (Text) color=yellow>
- - Thoughts color=darkkhaki and in italics
- - Memories, flashbacks, dreams color=green and in italics

Spoiler all private actions, but if its something really private, or you're setting up a backstab, feel free to PM me.

Throughout the Chicagoland Area
March 28th 2072, 11:38 am (Central Standard Time)
[Non Applicable]

For most in the city of Chicago, life is total drek. Why should it be different for any of you? All of you are new to the Chicago running scene, and none of you have seen so much human suffering in one place before. You all came into the shadows to meet your own goals, but for now it all boils down to the same thing: money. You need it, and your options here in the CeeZee and its environs are more then a little limited. It is commonly assumed that a runner without rep is as good as a walking Soy Burger out here. Maybe that is why jobs have been so few and far between. But the end of the month is fast approaching, and you aren't really sure what will happen if you can't pay those bills.

Each of you receives a comm call early. It is coming through on the 'biz number...looks like you might get some work after all.

Tina's Comm Call:


Runt's Comm Call:


Aaroth's Comm Call:


Pawnee's Comm Call:

The Lair, March 28th 2072, 11:38 am (Central Standard Time)

Her forehead dripped with sweat as she poured Mana into the specially prepared crystals she had laid around the chamber. The energy matrix that was being created by flowing Mana through the crystals would be the payment she was offering to the Thought Construct she was binding.

She had risen early this morning to begin this process, a bi-weekly ritual that allowed her to recover some of the edge her transformation had cost her.

She saw the flashing light on her 'link out of the corner of her eye. The recorded message would explain the situation and permit authorized callers to leave a message for her.

She was pleasantly surprised to hear Kev's voice emanating from the little machine. Five PM was do-able although she should take the time to eat something first and clean herself up.

She did hope that the Beacon Tap wasn't another bar. Kev often overlooked the fact that she lacked in apparent maturity or just found it amusing to force her to prove her age to smirking doormen.

She got on with finishing the binding ritual and made a mental note to send Kev a message to confirm as soon as she was done.

March 28th 2072, 11:38 am (Central Standard Time), Archangels Bounty Redemption Center, Southside.

'Pawnee' answers the incoming comm-message as his 'link finishes downloading the days menu of miscreants, file reads 98% done and clocking fast to completed when he answers. Pawnee listens to the offer of a job, he's no shadowrunner, never had any intentions of it in his life, but life's tough in Chi-town and you never look away from an offer of work. Work brings money, and money buys you another day. The 'link shows the file is complete an urgent sign flashes in Pawnee's AR sight. Pawnee opens the message and smiles.

"Thanks for the reference. Since I owe you a solid, you've got an exchange rate of 150 yen bounty on you. I wont be collecting, but there have been over twelve hundred hits on your profile."

It's not good to owe anyone here in Chi-town.

Pawnee walks to his Humvee, it was a beast of a machine, but time and the brutal life in this shithole had worn down the aestetic qualities of the SUV, leaving behind dents, scratches, and the need to alter its form with heavy guage plasteel tubeing for ram plateing. It was then that Pawnee caught his reflection in the window.......almost the same could be said about him. Pawnee smiled.

March 28th 2072, 11:38 am (Central Standard Time) - Aaroth's Northside condo
active

Yet another lame day was ahead of Aaroth. Having woken up a few hours ago, he has worked out, ate a decent natural breakfast, and was now scanning through the local media for anything to peak his interest. A story catches his eye "Local store owner wins a big lottery payout"

Welcome to a life in hell.

Soon an incoming message pops up...

Bobby? What is he doing up?

"Thanks for job connectioin Bobby. You have always been good to me. Tell the family 'Thanks!' <in Italian> from me as well"

After the conversation, an actual, genuine smile comes to Aaroth's face. Thinking of going on a job in the shadows, Aaroth even begins to chuckle a bit.

This could be the beginning of a new life.

The Beacon Tap...Aaroth tries to recall if he has been here before. As he does, Aaroth heads to his closet and pulls out his Business Suit making sure it looks good for tonights meeting. He also gives Helel and Uriel a good polishing. Satisfied, he heads out for lunch and a car wash.

Aaroth will be leaving most of his running items in the trunk of his car:

Helel and Uriel (loaded with Reg. Ammo)

Spare Clip Belt
2 spare clips (gel rounds)
2 spare clips (Explosive Rds)
2 spare clips (Reg. Ammo)

Katana
Lined Coat

He will have his contacts in, and be leaving his glasses in the car.

He debates whether to bring Helel and Uriel into the actual meeting in their Consealable holsters.

March 28th 2072, 11:38 am (CST),room 4 of the Rent and rest Hotel
Hidden/dummy comm passive

Runt Idley pointed his M23 at the guy in the trid display. It was just a movie, but he couldn't help but imagine this was the guy that shot his father, and dream about splattering his brains along the wall behind him. He almost blew a few holes in the real wall when the comm call came in.

"I'm glad to hear of it, Fussball Bob. I was starting to think I would have to turn to a life of crime." he was glad to find his sense of humor had not yet died here. Moving from rat hole to rat hole, and living out of a duffle bag was not what he was used to. His drive to find his mother was the only thing keeping him sane, or at least reasonably stable. He had to stay focused. Step one, get some cred,"I will be there. What kind of place is this? Will I be arrested at the door for carrying protection? or do I need a cannon just to blend in?"

as he talks to Bob, Runt pulls up a window on his comm's trid display, He begins looking into this"Beacon Tap" place.

Runt's Legwork:


Beacon Tap
March 28th, 4:25 pm (CST)
Frankie 'The Fish' Doyle - Passive

Frankie sat in the quiet back corner of his favorite little pub. However he looked over the menu with some distaste. After a brief shouting match with the bartender he sat back again and smiled. For Frankie they would pull out the real meat, none of this 'Soy-burger' bull drek. On top of this he ordered a tall Guinness to round out his order. He planned to be completing his meal just as his 'new team' arrived.

Frankie wasn't too thin, but nobody could really call him too fat either. His balding head was covered by an old fashioned bowler hat, but beneath that shocks of his bright red hair could be seen poking out. He wore a dress shirt and slacks, his style fit with the style about five years ago, but in this place he seemed tre chic.

The Beacon Tap itself seemed like a building that must have been built in the 2020s, looking backwards to the 1940s. Everything was wood paneled, people here still smoked, the AR for this place was sorely lacking, and there was absolutely no VR to speak of. There was, however, a bar offering most anything a Chicago native would want to drink. On the far side of the building from Frankie, right near the front door, was a stage where a three man band was preparing to play a set. Ahh good, I see my boys are here for a little noise pollution. Other then Frankie, the barman, and the band, there were two waitresses and a half a dozen families scattered about the bar & restaurant. None would be within earshot once that band started up. And even if one of the families did catch wind of this meet, what are they gonna do to me, I'm Frankie the fucking FISH.

His food arrived just as the music started playing. A sort of Gaelic thrash rock. Not particularly good by any means, but these boys played for table scraps and they'd serve their purpose well enough. Frankie ate from his corner seat and waited.

[[OOC: This gives you an idea of the meeting location as well as the man you are supposed to meet there, when you enter Beacon Tap, the bartender will point you to him. This is your chance to make an impression on your very first Johnson, how exciting!]]

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 4:50 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive

Aaroth parks his car, steps out, takes a good look around, and makes sure his suit looks good.

Welcome to the shadows.

He heads into the Beacon Tap with a slight grin on his face. As he enters, he takes a moment to look over the place. Aaroth then walks up to the bar.

"I'm looking for Frankie." The bartender points him out. "Thank you sir. What is he drinking this evening? Please, bring another one to Frankie, and I'll have a whiskey on the rocks."

Aaroth will pay for the drinks and give the bartended a ¥4 tip.

"Good evening. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Aaroth." If Frankie doesn't initially offer him a seat, Aaroth will politely ask "May I?" and gestures towards a chair at the table.

"How are you doing this fine evening?"

The Lair, March 28th 2072, 2:00 pm (Central Standard Time)

With the last of the energy crystals charged the Thought Form she had drawn from herself at dawn was finally stabilized in the Astral. The sudden absence of Solar influence on the Field at nightfall would no longer cause it to fade into nothingness and it's ability to effect the real world was greatly enhanced.

The augmentation spells it was sustaining would continue to improve her resistance to channelled Mana long after tonights employment was successfully completed.



She allowed the Thought Form to fade back into the Astral until she needed it and mentally activated her 'link.

The components of her cybereyes had been clustered soon after they had been installed and she used them as her primary 'link. All her other wireless gear was clustered in a similar way and slaved to her eyes. She had a few tags and non-critical processors that were clustered to form a 'public' link and she usually slaved her eyes to a competent Hacker when she was working.

With a few mental commands her contact list started to scroll past in the space in front of her and she selected Kev's 'link and gave him a call back.

Hey Grandad, got your message. Sorry, I was busy with mojo stuff but I'm all good now and ready to rock and roll. Just don't be sendin' me to a bar again unless you plan on letting the staff know to expect me.

There was a smile in her voice as she spoke to her fixer, they had been through the wringer together, it was just biz but there was a grudging familiarity that would substitute for trust. That and the chunk of cash she still owed the guy for all the surgery she had put her twisted little body through. He wasn't going to stop finding her work or double cross her while she still owed him.

So while I've got you on the phone I could use some gear. I'm settling in nicely here but I could use some FAB. A few cubic meters of the newest super-concentrated series II stuff if you can get your hands on it.

After exchanging pleasantries and necessary professional details Tina hung up and got on with prepping for the meet.

A quick check on some relevant astronomical data showed that she had till after 7PM before sundown. She would need to summon one Thought Form now and another later if the job took more than a couple of hours. That wasn't optimal but it couldn't be helped.

Her stomach started to growl again which was bad news. Her little larder was pretty much empty, just a few scraps of the last sick pervert she had ensured wouldn't be grooming any more pre-pubescent girls, it would have to do for now, she could last a week or so but she needed to pull soon. Fresh meat would do but it left a bitter aftertaste.




Beacon Tap
March 28th, 4:50 pm (CST)
Public - Fake SIN 2 - Passive
Primary - Hidden

She lurked in the shadows down the street and waited for the first of them to arrive. They wouldn't be hard to spot from their Auras.

She was frustrated, she had lost so much of her power during her transformation and it made her feel vulnerable, what made it worse was that it was so close, just a tiny bit more and she would have been able to run Deflection and have one of her Thought Forms accelerate her movement as well.

The Ghost counselled patience and had at least bought her time to recover what she had lost but learning patience was the hardest thing she had ever endured and she had endured plenty of drek in her short life.

She hadn't waited long when a well dressed young elven Adept stepped from a car and made his way into the bar. She rolled in on the young man's heels trusting in his proximity and the Concealment power of her Astral allies to cause the average patrons of the establishment to ignore her.

Time to see what Kev had gotten her into...

March 28th, 4:53 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare sub-sprawl

Pawnee's Humvee pulled into the lot. He was early to on-time, but he had misjudged the time it'd take to get from southside to here. Or, it was the mouthy rookie at the check point that wanted to know why I wasnt a 'real' person any longer. I dont think the snot-nosed smoothy liked my answer, but fuck him anyways. Geez has KE's standards gone down. Pawnee checks his periphery through his windows before exitting the vehicle, he locks it manually before closing it. Pawnee's hand drops to his waist and with one finger he touches the revolvers handle, the chamber spins away from the capsule round he keeps in place, just because it is 'bug city' after all, to a standard round. Pawnee pulls the lined coat over the pistol as best he can, but he knows the law. A concealed weapon without a concealed liscence is bad news, but if it isnt concealed...thats just plain common sense in place like Chicago.

Pawnee strolls in and makes a line to the bar. " Double burboun, deep and neat." he orders before finding his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The long dreadlocks and serveral days worth of stubble apart from his goatee seemed at odds with what he used to be. I may drink like a cop, but I sure dont look like one anymore.

"I'm looking for a friend.. goes by Johnson, know him?" he asks as he recieves the glass. Pawnee pulls out a wad of folded 'money' he pulls out and seperates them into like 'currencies'. "You prefer Dollars, Nuyen,...got some Ares Corp script, and Hour Chits, what's yer prefered payment?"

The bartender grimaces down at Pawnee's grubby collection of goods, "Hours? Where do you think you are, some government bar up on Northside. Hah, we take the hardest currency here, nuyen works best. If yer hard up maybe we'll take a UCAS buck...but it'll cost ya twice what it says in the book. I think the man you are looking for is over in the corner...with that elf and that kid...I always knew he was a family man."

The bartender serves the drink with a smile. Its hard to tell whether he is smiling with or at the out of place bounty hunter. The man gives another look over to the table and smirks even wider, shaking his head, "Have fun kid...looks like quite a group tonight."

March 28th, 4:58 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare sub-sprawl

Runt slams the the locker at the bus station, a bit hesitant to walk away from his gear. The bus ticket cut deep into his remaining funds. He hoped the trip was worth it. It was a fairly short walk to the Tap. He made his way to the bar and then the table. If Bob was right about the number of people, he looked to be the last one to arrive,"Hallo all, I hope I haven't kept anyone waiting"

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 4:50 pm (CST)
Frankie 'The Fish' Doyle - Passive

Frankie was finishing the last of his Guinness and the cute little stick of a waitress was taking away his clean plate when he noticed them enter the bar. The elf he had seen before. Never met personally, That one must be Aaroth. And that little thing behind him must be Tina. Ghouls...no two are exactly alike...and no one is fun to work with. A shiver went down his spine as the odd looking girl looked him in the eye. But only for a moment, from then on, he was strictly professional.

The elf approached, "Good evening. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Aaroth." The Fish gave a polite smile and nodded to the chair across the table as the elf pulled it out "May I? How are you doing this fine evening?" Aaroth said, taking the seat.

Before Doyle could answer the two drinks were set on the table. "Ah Aaroth, I'm doing even better now that I got this cold drink. But I do have my share of problems, laddy. Lets wait a few minutes so I can discuss it all with the rest of your partners."

Within a few minutes an ork and a dwarf both arrive and have a seat at the table. The dwarf, last to arrive, speaks while claiming the last chair, "Hallo all, I hope I haven't kept anyone waiting."

As the final ass hits the final seat, the room fills with music. Looks like that band up-front is finally done with their sound check. To anyone not finely in tune with both ancient Gaelic pipers and 80s rock, the music is horrendous. Anyone who would, miraculously, like that genre finds the music middling. Maybe this is why most of the other families still present appear to be wolfing down the rest of their food and heading out the door.

Frankie smiles at group arrayed in front of him, "Not at all kid, you're all early, I like that. Reliability, its important in a team. Assuming you take the job, that's what you are now, by the way. I need four guys, and I need them to work together, to make sure that what I want gets done. But before we really talk shop, I want to make one thing clear. Most of you were probably told that you are here to meet a 'Mr.Johnson'. That is bull-shit. Complete and utter bull-shit. You are here, to meet Frankie 'the Fish' Doyle, and that is me. I tell you this because I am not some piss ant who is hiding behind a mask. I want you to know who you are working for, and you are working for me. Of course, if you tell anyone you are working for me, especially after you get pinched, I'll deny it vehemently. Then you might even get a team of my boys knocking on your door before the sun comes back up.

"What I'm saying is, I've got a rep in town. It's not a particularly pretty one, but its a good one. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. You peck at me, I'm going to peck back twice as hard. Basically that is the Chicago Way as far as I'm concerned. So feel free and check up on me after this meet. If something doesn't feel right, ask your people, they'll tell you just how family oriented I am."

Frankie lets out a smile and seems to be listening to the music for a few seconds before continuing, "Alright, here is the basics of the job. I need a couple of guys to head down the Calumet docks for me tonight. Meet with a guy, pick up a couple of packages, and take them up to the Northside for me. Time is of the essence. If these packages don't get put where they need to go by midnight, I'm going to get an earful, and the people that left me hanging are going to get their asses in a sling. I'm willing to pay your team 10k in cold hard nuyen to split up as you guys will amongst yourselves if you do this job for me. What do you say? Are you in or are you out? This is your last chance to back out if you don't want to hurt my feelings."

[[OOC: Frankie waits politely for people to say they are "in", if anyone says they are "out" why did they make a character? People who are out can go home and maybe play in the next run? ]]

"Alright, glad to hear you a bunch of men...er people...who know the value of a hard days work. First things first, I may know who you all are, but the rest of you don't know each other. Lets go around the table and get some introductions. Street name, specialty, thats probably enough for now lads," Frankie waits for everyone to introduce themselves before continuing.

"So here are the details, I need you four to get your asses on some transport and head down to the Calumet docks. If you don't have any transport, I can arrange some for you, but it'll cost, I ain't running a charity here. I need you to be down at the docks by 8:00. Thats just over two and a half hours. I need you to head out to pier 49-A. At precisely 8:00 a boat will arrive. A guy I know, Petey Two-Eyes, should be captaining. He has three packages for me. They should each be a different color, yellow, blue, and red. Now, I need you to drop these packages off, like I said, before midnight, in two different spots. The blue one goes to a buddy of mine named Lionel. He should be waiting for you in a coffee shop on the corner of Oak Park and Irving Park, thats the near north side if any of you are geographically impaired.. If there is any problems, here is his comm code.

"The other two are going to require you to head a bit further up north. The long pig farms to be exact. Before you all go flipping out about needing to deal with ghouls and the like, let me just say that I picked this team for a reason. I think you should be just fine, and the ghouls got no beef to pick with you...unless you make 'em. They should be expecting you and you should have no problems. Find your point of contact there, a fella called "Murky". Give him and his boys the yellow and the red packages. And then thats it, you are done. Give me a call to say the task is done, you should have your nuyen by the time you wake up in the morning. Any questions?"

Frankie looks seriously at the rest of the table, attempting to gauge whether or not they truly understand what is expected of them, "Go on, ask, I won't bite. Unless its a fucking retarded question." Frankie gives a shark-like smile and sips his cold beer.

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:00 pm (CST)

The little human kid looked wildly out of place sat at a table with a group of hardened shadow types. She stretched her arms up to the edge of the table and leaned her chin on her folded forearms and peered intently at Frankie the Fish as he talked.

When prompted she gave the little group her potted CV.

I'm Tina, folks call me Tiny. I'll be your Astral backup tonight. I might be small be I pack a wallop and people tend to underestimate me and have trouble putting a bullet in a kid even if she is a mage.

When the others had introduced themselves and Frankie had finished explaining the job she piped up again.

That'll be my other role tonight then. I'm not entirely unknown at the long-pig farms and ought to give you guys a bit of cred. Handy really, as I could do with stocking up.

You'll be relieved to hear that I am atypical and non-contagious having been infected by an altered strain.

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:00 pm (CST)
Public(SIN R3) Chad Mardigan-Passive
Primary-Hidden

Runt Stroked his Moustache with his thumb and forefinger as people introduced themselves. He couldn't help staring at the small child at the table. She sounded proffesional, Runt figured that's what counts. It did annoy him that they were the same height. He introduced himself with a hand on his leather jacket, revealing the hardware tools on his coveralls,"My Name ist Runt. I'm good mit computers. Und I'm a troubleshooter of all kinds."

Frankie went on with his pitch. Runt couldn't deny the money sounded great. And this Fish guy sounded like he was well connected here. Maybe after a few jobs, He could get some help with his own situation.

"Since wir talking logistics, What size are these packages, und how fragile are they? und what time will Lionel be at the coffee shop?"

March 28th, 5:00 pm ,Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl


Pawnee listened intently, making small and hopefully unnoticed sniffs in the air. His eyes could be fooled, even snuck up on if someone was good, but someones scent was hard to fake...or cover.

I'm Tina, folks call me Tiny. I'll be your Astral backup tonight. I might be small be I pack a wallop and people tend to underestimate me and have trouble putting a bullet in a kid even if she is a mage.

Not me Krieger, so much as lick your lips my way and you're ......

The dwarf finishes, and Pawnee waits for the Fish to answer before he chimes in. "Names Paw-knee-OH-low, most just call me Pawnee. I'm a tracker and hunter most of the time."

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:00 pm (CST)
Frankie 'The Fish' Doyle - Passive

Frankie was surprised at Tiny's reaction to the pig farms,"That'll be my other role tonight then. I'm not entirely unknown at the long-pig farms and ought to give you guys a bit of cred. Handy really, as I could do with stocking up. You'll be relieved to hear that I am atypical and non-contagious having been infected by an altered strain."

So she isn't trying to hide it...good for the team, bad for her. She seems pretty stand up, for someone who is practically the undead. I'm sure the city will beat that out of her soon.

The dwarf spoke up, "Since wir talking logistics, What size are these packages, und how fragile are they? und what time will Lionel be at the coffee shop?"

"Ah, definitely a good question. Thanks for the reminder, kid. I don't have exact dimensions on any of these crates, but I can give you an estimate. The blue one, the one going to Lionel , should be small. Easily fit it under your arm. The other two should be bigger. Maybe about the size of yourself, Runt. One will likely be fairly heavy, the other should be pretty light. In any case, we aren't talking about multiple tons here, maybe a hundred or so pounds for the heaviest box. As for Lionel, I told him to hit the shop around 8:30, and wait there until the last possible moment. Guy owes me a favor, so he better be there that whole time. If you have any problems finding him, give him a ring, and you best tell me, cause then he'll owe me a lot more then a favor," Doyle took another sip at his beer.

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:00 pm (CST)

That's a big wedge of cash and this is a lot of muscle for a simple delivery job. What sort of 'complication' can we expect?

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:00 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive

As he is sitting at the table with everyone:

Wow. I think I'm a little over dressed for this meeting. At least I'm not running with any snot nosed rich pricks!!!

Being new to the shadows, Aaroth lets the others introduce themselves first. He listen to each one intently, but Tina's defeiently peaks his interest.

"I'm Tina, folks call me Tiny. I'll be your Astral backup tonight. I might be small be I pack a wallop and people tend to underestimate me and have trouble putting a bullet in a kid even if she is a mage."

When the others had introduced themselves and Frankie had finished explaining the job she piped up again.

"That'll be my other role tonight then. I'm not entirely unknown at the long-pig farms and ought to give you guys a bit of cred. Handy really, as I could do with stocking up.

You'll be relieved to hear that I am atypical and non-contagious having been infected by an altered strain."

Having said this, Aaroth indiscreatly shifts his perception to the Astral, glances at her, and the other three, then shifts back.



Amazing! This is the excitement my life has been missing.

"The name is Aaroth. It is a pleasure to meet each of you. Frankie, a splendid group you have put together. As for myself, I can provide support in a firefight, as well as a few minor Awakened tricks. If you are looking for a face...

Aaroth leans in and tries to hide his face from any of the families in the room that might be looking their way. He then attempts to sculpt his face to that of the bartender,


and then mimics his voice too.



"...I might be your man."

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:00 pm (CST)
"The name is Aaroth. It is a pleasure to meet each of you. Frankie, a splendid group you have put together. As for myself, I can provide support in a firefight, as well as a few minor Awakened tricks. If you are looking for a face..., " as Aaroth leans in his face changes to a pretty good imitation of that of the barman. The dim lighting, smokey atmosphere, and distracting music might be adding to the effect, but the likeness is uncanny.

After the introduction, Tiny turns to their employer,"That's a big wedge of cash and this is a lot of muscle for a simple delivery job. What sort of 'complication' can we expect?"

"Heh, you just cut right to the chase, don't'cha, girlie. If you move quickly, opposition should be light. However, certain 'interested parties' wish to see that these packages don't make it to their destinations. So far I've taken measures to hide both the pick-up and drop off points for the packages. They've been changed more then once, and the information has been kept generally secure.

"However, as I'm sure you know, or will find out as soon as you leave here, I'm a family man. If any boys get used for a job like this, there is a chance we could be recruiting a snitch for the job. Or just the simple fact that any of our known assets can be traced better then a bunch of...fresh faces...like yourselves. That is why we have brought in some outside talent. You aren't known to the people who would want to stop this courier run, and you wouldn't know who to snitch to even if you wanted to.

"As to the people who may be tracking you, they likely know that the packages will be delivered tonight. Hopefully they are still under the impression that the drop off is at the Gary Docks and they will be in Indiana until it is too late. If not, expect them to have a fair bit of magic mixed in with standard muscle. That is why I have assembled you all, you should have no problem against whatever feeler agents you might run into. That said, a protracted battle is something that none of the parties involved wants to see. Don't make headlines. If you need to fight it out, for God's sake, do it in the CeeZee."

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:01 pm (CST)
Chad Mardigan-Passive
Primary-Hidden

Runt was trying to get a feel for his new coworkers. The Ork struck him as a rugged guy. The elf seemed to be having a little too much fun with this, but wiz kids tended to be a little cocky. He turned his thoughts back to the task at hand,"This may be more a question for the group, but How many vehicles should wir take on this mission? It sounds like we need a truck of some sort, but I don't think it requires ein caravan."

March 28th, 5:02 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl

Loathing to do it Pawnee speaks up "I got a vehicle big enough to haul us all and the cargo. It's plenty tough enough but aint no tank."

What the fuck did I just commit to?

Pawnee's eyes glance towards Tiny, then to the others "No eating in my truck."

Especially you Krieger

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:02 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive


"No problem Pawnee. Frankie, you seem to know a little about this group that might be trying to intercept our delievery. Any info you can pass on to us? Who are they?

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:20 pm (CST)
[color = "darkgrey"]Frankie 'The Fish' Doyle - Passive[/color]

"No problem Pawnee. Frankie, you seem to know a little about this group that might be trying to intercept our delievery. Any info you can pass on to us? Who are they?

Frankie Doyle glares at Aaroth's question, "Look, kid, if I wanted you to know, I would have told you when I answered the ghoulie's question. I can't have you all running to them at the first sign of trouble and getting a pay day. I said I took care of 'em, if they bother you, I told you their strengths. If you guys have nothing better to do then pry, I think this interview is over."

With that Frankie finish his drink and stands, "Last minute questions? No? I thought not. Here is my comm number. Call me IN AN EMERGENCY. If you call me just to chat, or from an unsecured comm, I swear to God I'll break your fucking legs."

Frankie smiled as he walked out the door, Yeah, I think these kids will be perfect.

[[OOC: Questions seemed to be slowing down, and I figured it was time for Frankie to make an exit. Now it is up to you guys to figure out how exactly you want to get from point A to point B. Here is a map with directions that already avoid the Cee Zee. Assume travel times of at least twice as long due to poor road condition. This of course doesn't take into account any other encounter that might slow you down.]]

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:21 pm (CST)
Chad Mardigan-passive
primary-hidden

..."I swear to God I'll break your fucking legs."

That last comment brushed close to the nerve. The one that sends Runt over the edge. He sent one thought down the fiber optic cable that linked his data jack behind his ear to the commlink in the front pocket of his coveralls;

<<mental note- Frankie 'the Fish' Doyle -Break his fucking legs>>

If he wasn't on the level, Runt wanted to remember these words.

Looking to the group through his goggles, he gets back on task,"So, Wir habt two hours and thirty-nine minutes, any thoughts? I feel much conversation can be saved fur the ride, so lets stick to who ist riding where?" Turning to Pawnee,"I could use a lift. I could Heist a car, but it seems unnecessary. I also have some gear stashed at the bus station, but it ist not far from here"

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:22 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive


What a prick! Better prepare myself for trouble.

After a conversation like that, Aaroth does not feel comfortable leaving his car there.

"Runt, I need to grab a few things from my car, plus I don't want to be leaving it here. I can bring you to the bus station, as long as Pawnee is cool with picking us up. Or, if we want to take two cars on the run, I can drive as well"

March 28th, 5:22 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl

"Not a problem on my end given a lift to everyone, but we best move before Frankie gets a case of hyper-tension." Pawnee stands from the table to subtly signal it was time to move out.

March 28th, 5:22:03 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl
Chad Mardigan-passive
primary-hidden


Runt hopped down from the table and ran his fingers over his two mohawks, making sure they were up. He adjusted his goggles and followed the Orc out the door. The Fish coulda sprung for dinner. Nothin worse than sitting in a resteraunt with no cred for a meal.

March 28th, 5:22:03 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl

Tina hopped down from the table and rolled out of the bar on the Dwarf's heels.

He's a prince among men that Frankie and no mistake.

It's probably safer if we all ride together, good of you to offer your wheels Pawnee. It'll probably take nearly two hours to get down to the docks, we'll have to skirt around the CZ and the Human Brigade, not many of us are going to be welcome there.

My crib is only about 10 minutes from the docks so we should head there first if you don't mind. The sun's going to set before the pickup so the Spirit mojo I have on standby is going to need a recharge which is best done on home ground as it were.

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:22 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive


Aaroth follows the three out of the bar, taking a quick glace behind him to make sure nothing fishy is going on.



Aaroth chuckles to himself.

Crib...nice choice of words for one that looks as young as she does.


Maybe this isn't the right place to ask, but what kind of mojo do you have on standby? Also, you ok if I leave my car at your place then?

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:22 pm (CST)

I'm afraid I don't have anything that resembles secure parking. You could park it on the street but it probably wouldn't have any wheels when you got back.

My Astral resources are pretty thin on the ground, I'm just getting my feet under me in Chicago and I'm restricted to personal augmentation for the moment. I can whip up a combat thought form in a jiffy but it's a last resort at the moment I'm afraid.

There are plenty of spells and counter-spelling to go around though.

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:22 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive


Good point. I'll just leave it at the bus station then.

Aaroth will be sure to park his car near a nicer car than his.

So, I'll bring Runt to the station so he can grab his stuff. We'll meet there. That sound good? Then we can discuss any plans.

March 28th, 5:22:03 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl
Chad Mardigan-passive
primary-hidden

"Excellent," Runt followed Aaroth to his car, scanning the street for anyone showing too much interest in his general direction. He spoke softly to the elf as they walked,"I hope nobody messed with my bags, of course, if someone did, theres a good chance we would have heard the explosion from here" He chuckled a little under his breath, "So, you from Chicago Aaroth?"

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:23 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive

Aaroth smiles.

That's some security system you have then. You always that protective?

Aaroth and Runt get into his car (a black, 2071 Hyundai Shin-Hyung), then he pulls up directions to the bus station and starts driving. As Aaroth begins to speak, Runt will probably pick up on a little anger and sarcasm in his voice.

Yeah, I'm from Chicago. I was born in Naperville-Bolingbrook and was the proud elf son of two rich, corporate, ass holes. Now I'm living up in Northside surronded by similar pricks. Oh, don't worry, I have no ties to them, or the corp anymore. Lost my family and my job in the Bug City feascle. Also, I lost my SIN in the crash, so my record is clean. How about you Runt? You from Chicago?

March 28th, 5:23 pm, Beacon Tap parking lot, O'Hare Sub-sprawl

Pawnee leads whoever is riding with him over to the bus terminal, evendently thats the kreiger, in the parking lot he overhears the following exchange between a tall slender elf and a squat ork. Both are wearing dark suits a few years out of date, hats and dark sunglasses.


"What's this?

What?

This car. This stupid car! Where's the Cadillac?

[the elf doesn't answer just stands there]

The Caddy! Where's the Caddy?

The what?

The Cadillac we used to have.

I traded it.

You traded the Bluesmobile for this?

No, for a microphone.

A microphone?
[pause]

Okay I can see that. What the hell is this?

This was a bargain. I picked it up at the Mount Prospect city police auction last spring. It's an old Mount Prospect police car. They were practically giving 'em away.

Well thank you, pal. The day I get outta prison, my own brother picks me up in a *police* car! "

Pawnee gives them a passing glance and checks his surroundings before opening the Humvee.

March 28th, 5:23:53 pm, Beacon Tap, O'Hare Sub-sprawl
Chad Mardigan-passive
primary-hidden

"Its nicht so much a security thing, its just that Detonator caps can be very sensitive if you don't know what you are doing, and there's enough explosives in there to empty that bus station"

The elf had a nice car. Aaroth sounded like he wasn't too fond of his childhood. Maybe now wasn't the time to share the fact Runt was here looking for his mother. He laughed a little at the question about Chicago," No, I grew up in Wolfsburg Germany. I worked fur S-K until some crazy sheist went down, I'm in town trying to sort it out, but ran short of cash first"

As they pulled up to the station, Runt scanned for anything strange. no extra police, no rubble and debris. So far so good. "I'll be right back" He hopped out and made his way for the locker.

March 28th, 5:30 pm, Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl

Aaroth's Shin-Hyung seemed somewhat out of place as they drove past the local Stuffer Shack and down to the bus station. Pawnee's vehicle seemed a little less out of place, but was still larger then any other personal vehicle in the area.

Nothing too suspicious seemed to be transpiring at this location. A few sub-urban wannabees stood huddled in the corner with a local, most likely purchasing BTLs or some other designer drug. A half a dozen orcs stood outside, looking at the looming rainclouds and hoping their bus would arrive before any adverse weather. The woman sitting behind the bullet proof glass at the ticket counter seemed bored out of her mind, and a little too cute spirited to be working a government job out here.

Runt easily ran in and grabbed his suitcase while Aaroth found an out of the way space. Pawnee's truck had plenty of space to hold the four of them plus a good deal of cargo. Both Aaroth and Pawnee had checked the GPses in their car and, when considering the need to go around Human Brigade territory, they found themselves with three very different choice.

1) Take the straightest fastest shot. Through the CZ: estimated time (barring incident) 1 hour.
2) Take the straightest shot avoiding the CZ: estimated time (barring incident) 1 hour, 45 minutes.
3) Take the longer, but safer route, including backstreets for a large portion of the way, avoids CZ, human brigade, and most gang turf: estimated time (barring incident) 2 hours, 15 minutes.
4) Take unclaimed surface streets the entire way to the Docks, around any known threat in the area: estimated time (barring incident): 3 hours, 30 minutes.

As they all piled into Pawnee's car they would need to make a final decision on overland route.

Beacon Tap
March 28th, 5:30 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive

Before jumping into Pawnee's van, Aaroth head to the trunk of his car. Looking around, satisfied no one is watching (with the exception of the team), he pulls out Helel and Uriel and places them in his quick draw holsters and his spare clip belt. He then staps his katana to his back and puts on his lined coat.

Before leaving the car, he puts on his glasses and turns off his contacts.


"I'm all set. Let the fun begin.

Aaroth then climbs into the Humvee.

March 28th, 5:30 pm, Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl

She was used to the sickly greens of fear and revulsion that often ran through normal people's auras when they found out what she was and so she sat in the back of the enormous Hummer and kept her mouth shut and her eyes open on the way to the Bus Station.

There was nothing you could say to change someone's mind about what you were, you just had to knuckle down and earn their respect.

She watched mutely as Pawnee punched a variety of potential routes into the Autonav. She didn't know which one she disliked least, she really wanted to get home and summon a new thought form to replace the one that would evaporate at sunset but it looked like the slightest delay would make that impossible if they took the sensible route.

Then it occurred to her that she didn't need to be there physically to do what needed doing. Perhaps this would work out after all. Maybe she could even do something to speed this journey up...

March 28th, 5:31:44 pm, Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
Chad Mardigan-passive
primary-hidden

Runt watches Aaroth suit up from his trunk,"Nice, You know I'm liking you more already"

Pawnee's truck was perfect for this mission, but a little high off the ground for Runt's personal taste."Well, so far so gut yah?" He clambers into the back seat and lays his duffle bag gently at his feet. He zips it open and pulls out his dwarf modified M23 assault rifle with the ammo drum under the barrell. keeping it low, he releases the powerslide and detaches the drum. He sticks the drum back into the bag and fishes out his grenade launcher. With a loving grin, he slides the Ares Antioch-2 into the assault rifle's underbelly with a neat click. "It's tough to let ein friend like this out of your site" He slaves the smartguns to his Main comm along with the crusader and the fly spy and his dummy comm. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to do a little research on our employer and his friends. I'm goin virtual, I'll still be able to hear you guys, so just shout if you need anything." He didn't bother to explain the fly spy in his pocket.

Runt drops into VR with a splash of electricity. He emerges from the static flash a squat black sihlouette with a white rat shaped face and a wide black hat. He's a colorless cartoon , something he dug up called spy vs. spy. A super old comic that made for great fun on the Matrix. He pulled out a giant magnifying glass and peared through it at lists of nodes wizzing by in a flash.

Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
March 28th, 5:30 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive


"Thanks Runt! You're not too bad yourself."

Runt might notice Aaroth has two distict Savalette Guardians. One is black with an engraved demon going down the barrel, the other is white with an angel engraved in the same manner.

After seeing Runt unload his weapons, Aaroth's eyes widden a bit.

"Wow! Packing some heat there."

Aaroth then begins looking over the routes on Pawnee's Autonav

Tina, you said you'd like to head back to your place before we head to the docks. Which of these is the best way, and will you have enough time to do your stuff?

Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
March 28th, 5:30 pm (CST)

Actually I think I can get away with just 'popping' in Astrally if you can keep an eye on my body while I'm gone.

We should probably take the round about route, it'll be tight time wise but if we fall behind I might be able to give us a little boost. Cutting across the CZ or through Human Brigade territory could easily get us killed.

Or worse...

Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
March 28th, 5:35 pm (CST)

With everyone packed up and ready to roll out, it seemed agreed that slow and steady would be the best option. Pawnee thumbed in a path that should take them through some discreet side streets. Their course scheduled the team's arrival at the docks for 7:50 pm, a scant ten minutes before they were supposed to do the pick-up with Petey. But ten minutes was ten minutes, and better safe then sorry seemed the ideal way to handle their first run.

Pawnee sat alone in the front, driving through the broken suburban streets and onto the highway along the west side of wall. Tina and Aaroth sat in the back, glancing uncomfortably from one another to Runt's catatonic body. Every now and then peering out the window at the crumbling remains of what had once been the busiest transport hub in the world.

Runt's View:


Backstreets, Near Southside
March 28th, 7:10 pm (CST)

The sun was now officially set, however nobody in the car had actually seen it around the buildings for almost an hour. Once they had gotten into the Southside and off of the highway their advance had slowed to a crawl. The team were still on schedule to make the meet, but only barely.

The humvee trundled over broken streets and passed apartments that should have been condemned long ago. With the combined aid of technology and good old-fashioned street knowledge the team kept to areas that were generally too poor or too broken to have any real gang presence.

It didn't take an eagle eye however, to notice that something was suddenly up. They had been driving slowly going around broken down cars and pot-holes that could have swallowed children on bicycles when they passed the nondescript bar, a run down little place called "Third Base". Suddenly, a man was hurled from within the bar out into the street, with a dozen others running out after him. Before it was possible to react, a quick glance at the rear sensors said that there was people back there, too. It looked to be another half a dozen people, previously thought to be pedestrians, were taking interest in the events and were moving out into the street behind the vehicle to have a look.

As the party glanced at one another, it quickly became obvious that they were in the middle some sort of fight. Who the players were and what it was over seemed unknown, and likely was entirely unimportant. But the fact remained, in front of the vehicle was a dozen metas battling in the street. About five feet behind the vehicle and closing was a crowd of bloodthirsty onlookers. This would likely slow the team down.

Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
March 28th, 5:31 pm (CST)
Quincy R. Spiers (Fake SIN) - Passive


"Not a problem Tina. Do what you need to do."

As they start heading out, Aaroth is still trying to get used to the fact he is riding in a car with a ghoul. He's never met one before, and never knew them to be so civilized.

Very exciting indeed, but I just need to know...

Aaroth sends Tina a message (trying to be polite as possible), as to not panic the rest Pawnee and Runt, in case they do not know yet.

"Glad to have you with us Tina. There's just one thing I need to ask you. Is there as chance of us becoming infected from you? I don't mean to insult you, its just that I have never met one of your kind before"

Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
March 28th, 5:36:23 pm (CST)
Chad Mardigan-passive
primary-hidden

[ Spoiler ]

programs running:
Scan 4
Encrypt 6
Analyze 4
Spoof 4
Stealth 6
Exploit 6
Biofeedback 6
Armor 4

Shifting back into his meat body was like the long breaking of a train. A deceleration that left Runt feeling like a fat man in a pool. the glow of the Matrix was replaced by the dark confines of the Hummer. He looked to the others in the truck,"Ok, so far 'the Fish' checks out. works fur the mob, got pinched before the wall went up, und was stuck on the inside. Petey und Lionel look to be prison buddies. Hopefully that means wir not delivering bombs to these guys..hopefully"

Backstreets, Near Southside
March 28th, 7:10:00 pm (CST)

"...so I put ein small charge under the handle to his car, und lets just say, he won't be flicking me off a second time"Runt's story fades as he spots the gathering crowds. "ok, wir habt twenty minutes to deal mit this, can you drive through them Pawnee? " His English gets worse as he focuses on the developing situation. While waiting for the orc's assessment, Runt is already scanning the scene for a node he could use, Something with a loud speaker perhaps, or an alarm system or a passing Roto drone. "Maybe one of you wiz kids got something to deal with this?"

Northwest Highway Bus Station 28, Between Lee and Wolf, O'Hare Subsprawl
March 28th, 5:31 pm (CST)

The little girl looked up at Aaroth and replied in a sad resigned voice.

No the strain I am infected with is an engineered one. It was supposed to be a vaccine, didn't work as well as advertised but it is at least not contagious. Hooray.

Backstreets, Near Southside
March 28th, 7:10:00 pm (CST)

Her business in The Lair concluded she made her way back to her body starting at the point she had left it and following the planned route and her own Astral Signature as swiftly as possible. This was a lot of trust to put in team mates she had only just met but she had not detected any deception in their auras. Only the usual fear and revulsion.



As her Astral form descended on the moving SUV an explosion of emotions erupted from a nearby building and the whole street started to light up around her.

Bad news.

She needed to squash this quickly if they were to make it to their rendezvous on time.

-----

The little ghoul's eyes snapped open and she sat up just as the fight boiled out of the bar, she glanced towards the miscreants and snapped the fingers of her cybered left arm before they could spill off the sidewalk onto the street.