Somewhere on the Sunset Strip
June 1st, 2072
5:15 PM

A sleek, shiny, and very deep violet Eurocar Westwind pulled up to the curb, the rays of the sunlight glinting off of its superb polish, making the gathered crowd turn up their tinting to even look at the beauty. Sliding out the car, Apollo tossed his keys to the valet, a virtual key rising from his hand in AR and landing in the hand of the slick haired Mexican valet that stood waiting for him. Apollo was striking, perfectly dressed in the absolutely newest Vashon Island Line suit, so new in fact that nobody on this strip would even know how new it was unless they happened to work for the design team at the Vashon design studio that was broken into last week. This was The Rising, the hottest new restaurant in LA, so he, of course, could be seen in nothing less. Tonight it was supposedly full of a number of Horizon higher ups, and surprisingly rumors of a number of other prominent LA fixers. The paparazzi drones were already starting to buzz around him, wondering what was going to be the next run he was going to set up, where he got that wonderful suit, or who he was meeting at The Rising tonight. Stepping past the line of people waiting to get their names of the list so that they could wait again to be seated, Apollo shot them all his winning elven smile, not a one of them raising their voice in protest. For who were they to protest the great Apollo.

Outside of The Rising
June 1st, 2072
6:57 PM

It was much darker outside of The Rising when Apollo stepped out then when he stepped in, but that couldn't dampen his mood any. He had a job to do now, and that almost always put more of a spring in his step.

Waiting only a second before his Eurocar pulled up, the same slick haired valet handing his AR keys back to him and walking away with a nice tip in return. Settling into his custom fit driver's seat, made to cup his cheeks just right, Apollo dialed in the address of his club in the Autopilot program. Lowering his seat back as the car started driving itself there, Apollo cued up his virtual rolodex, turning to his section for titled 'Work Force'.

I need newbies for this one, up and comers......Ahh, these six will do.

< I have some work for you, good work. You are to have lunch at Yamashiro, in Hollywood, tomorrow at 2. The reservation is under the name Morimoto. Dress well.

Remember, it's always sunny in LA,
~Apollo >

Hollywood Hills
June 1st, 2072
6:58 PM

Isabella climbed out of the large pool, pausing at the top of the ladder for the aesthetic affect a dripping wet body in a highly stylized bikini would have on her audience. She winked at Emmett, causing the slightly younger teen to blush as she walked over to the deck chair and wrapped her body in a giant fluffy white towel that was bigger than she was. Laying back, the young mage decided once again that she really did deserve this lifestyle, she deserved it, and she'd do whatever it took to make certain she kept it, "I'll keep it and more," she thought.

"I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you..." sounded off her commlink, letting her know she had a message from Apollo. The blonde girl gave her companion a puppy dog look and nodded toward the commlink as she lifted the towel away from her abdomen to exposing an expanse of tanned skin as she dried her hands and hair. "Thanks Emmett." she said accepting the 'link, she didn't bother with the trode rig or anything fancy,just displaying the message on the screen.

"Looks like I have a lunch date tomorrow at Yamashiro. It sounds promising. I guess I'll just have to make sure I look my very best, it says to dress well. Maybe your dad can offer some tips." she tells the sixteen year-old, he was only half a dozen months younger than Isabella but his quiet reserved nature made it seem the other way around.

"I'll be there, thanks Apollo." she sent back before closing the 'link and wrapping the towel more securely around her form.

"I'm going to go take a shower and then go see Celia...girl stuff, I know you don't like fashion." the young mage told the boy, indicating his sister who was more interested in the most important things in life, like clothes, make-up, and shopping. Isabella liked Emmett in his own way, he was certainly very nice to her, and seemed to have a crush on her, and his father, Jay, really seemed to like Bella, but she didn't want to really start anything there, it could be a little weird. Waving, Bella walked back to the guest house set off to the side of the pool, towards the back of the property. It wasn't as nice as the main house, but it was still the nicest place Bella had ever lived.

After a half an hour in the luxurious shower that wouldn't seem to run out of hot water no matter what, and snapped her fingers, concentrating briefly on the spell as she examined her self in the mirror. Her skin took on a perfect golden glow, as if she'd spent a day in the sun (which she actually had), but it was a more even tan that was just the right tint for her complexion, and it covered 'every' part of her, even the parts that had not seen the sun during her tanning. Her eyes seemed to be set off just perfectly by the hint of light purple eye-shadow, and her normally dirty blonde hair now looked like she'd spent a fortune on dying it strawberry blonde, or rather like she hadn't dyed it at all, depending on one's perspective. Looking in the mirror she assessed her unclothed body and nodded in satisfaction, she looked like a million nuyen, perfectly groomed coming straight out of a AAA class salon.

Once she was done, Bella dressed herself and headed off to the big house to spend the night with Celia and her mom, giving magical make-overs, magically altering clothes to give fashion shows and talking about what was appropriate attire for such lunch meetings and for Yamashiro in general.

Divine Comedy, Backstage
June 1st, 2072
6.57 PM

In DD's field of vision an AR window opened, announcing an incoming message from Apollo. With a thought she opened the message, glacing it over while she put on her costume for the evening's show and grinned at a joke from Trix

Oh... work. Runner work. And a meeting in a top restaurant... DD's mood soared at the prospects the message offered, not even the slightly insulting "dress nice" comment - as if she'd need to be told that! - managing to put a damper on her eX-improved joy. The drug running through her blood made her feel more alive, sexier, more attractive, and her simrig recorded the heightened sensations down to the slightly naughty excitement she felt at the thought of her show.

While the girl posed "in front" of an AR mirror, examining herself, chaning the shade of her fiberoptic hair just a little bit to lighten the neon green some more to match her AR-jewelry, she licked her lips, sent a small message back to confirm her accepting the meeting, and recorded a small entry to her blog "DD Dreams".

< 'i there, friends and fans and prospective lovers! While I am dressing up for my show tonight I just received a very intriguing offer for tomorow... can you say Shadow Work? I knew you could! Stay tuned for more daring-do and sexy shadowrunning from your favorite 'acker! > Her cajun accent was not entirely fake - her mother spoke like that - but it wasn't how she'd speak when not acting. DD thought it added to her allure, an exotic-erotic touch.

DD ran her hands down her body, smoothing the little dress she wore, and checked if her simrig's feed was showing up properly on her blog. It wouldn't do to disappoint whoever was watching. Blowing herself and her audience a kiss she turned once again around herself, then walked towards the stage entrance for the Purgatory, the Divine Comedy's strip club. She sent her agent, a small, stylized eastern dragon, to sift through L.A.'s matrix for all things about Apollo - she did not expect to find any information about the job but it never hurt to cover all the bases, and a little checking what kind of dresses were currently in fashion in his network would not harm either. She'd check up on both herself later anyway.


A last check with the club's main node, to see if her AR programs which provided the background for her show were properly loaded, and the young hacker stepped on stage.

Divine Comedy, Purgatory, stage
June 1st, 2072
7.00 PM

Being the center of the attention of the audience, was a rush DD loved and craved. Stepping on stage of the Purgatory made her breath quicken and her heart bat faster - she could almost feel the eyes on her, roaming over her skin, trying to pierce the dress and AR-shrouds she wore. A glance at the current numbers of hits on her blog made her feel even better.

Throwing a naughty grin at the audience she started with her set.

Pasadena Heights, Ground floor Flat
June 1st, 2072
7:05 PM

The sudden chirp of the commlink disturbed the moment. Joshua's hand twitched ever so slightly, moving the soldering iron a fraction of a milimetre, enough to melt a secondary connector on the interface board of the house drone he was fixing. "Damn, damn, damn" he cursed out loud to no one inparticular, "I thought id turned the damn thing off". The noise continued rising in pitch. Sighing he put down the iron and commanded his chair to move him to the side table where his commlink sat, half way there he realised it wasnt that one at all but the other, private 'link that was beeping. That made him pause.

< I have some work for you, good work. You are to have lunch at Yamashiro, in Hollywood, tomorrow at 2. The reservation is under the name Morimoto. Dress well. Remember, it's always sunny in LA, ~Apollo >
<Work from Apollo meant only one thing, finally after the months of watching from the sidelines he finally had his shot. The first steps to fame and fortune. The first steps to recovery.> He grinned and immediately penned a note back, his hands shook as he keyed the message <Sarial acknowledged. Tomorrow 2pm.>

As soon as he had finished he turned on a second Commlink and wrote a quick blog message "Ghost Deux X signing in with another exciting run. Tomorrow this Ghost in the Shadows gets to sit in on his very own Johnson meet - in the flesh. Expect a blow by blow account of whats it like to negotaite the 'Yen and learn just what is is the runners will be doing, more tomorrow from the Ghost in the Shadows. And remember fans, keep watching the shadows or this ghost might be coming for you." Satisfied he shut the link down and turned back to the task in hand, his mind playing out different runs he'd watched in the past.

An hour later he'd finished the house drone, satisfied he'd got all the kinks out of the machine he turned his attention to his own drones. No doubt they'd be useful tomorrow as well as in the coming days. he ran off a check list of each of them, connecting to them in turn and running diagnostics. The Stormcloud had been causing him problems the last time he'd used it, he wanted to ensure it was working for tomorrow, a set of eyes outside the meet was always useful. Once happy all worked fine he finall took the time to look up the Yamashirom, curious about their menu, and dress code.

San Bernardino
June 1st, 2072
7:00 PM

Anthony was enjoying his jog home, after a long work out at a nearby gym. His day had been pretty boring so far, and his usual hangouts didn't start hopping for another hour or so - plenty of time for him to get home and get a shower before taking in a fight. This wasn't the sort of neighborhood one usually goes for a stroll in, and certainly not after the sun had gone down, but Anthony knew how to take care of himself, and most of the people in his neighborhood knew it. His feedback-enabled body-suit offered up slight resistance against his vat grown muscles and reported on his various vital statistics - respiratory rate, blood pressure, etc. In a language he didn't understand, it was telling him what he already knew - that this wasn't much of a workout, and that he needed to push himself harder. That suit was probably worth more than the car he had just passed, and was certainly worth more than the cash he had in his pocket, but it was just an expensive toy, and no matter how much it cost, it wasn't going to do his job for him.

He passed another car, which was spray-painted, and looked like it had recently been in a front-end collision, and noticed three people had moved onto the sidewalk up ahead, cutting off his path. He slowed his pace as he approached, but had every intention of passing them by. The group consisted of two men, and a woman. One of the men had his arm around the woman, and appeared to be licking her face or something - Anthony tried not to look too closely at that. The woman had a "tough" look about her, was covered in tattoos, and the third man seemed to be talking to himself, and shaking his head a lot - to the amusement of the other two. As he got close, he noticed they were armed - it was the first thing someone in his line of work looked for, but he wasn't particularly surprised. Nobody wandered these streets at night without protection.

Anthony wasn't sure what their original intentions were, but as he approached, the couple seemed to notice that he was a big guy, and that he didn't seem too afraid, and they stepped back out of his path. The other guy, who didn't seem to be completely aware of what was going on, began screaming something incoherent and pulled his gun - aiming it in the air, and at his friends, as much as at Anthony. Well, its not much of an improvement, but at least it got my heart going.... The couple, now a few feet farther away than their strung-out friend, seemed to find the situation hilarious, and began egging him on.

Just then, Anthony's commlink beeped at him, vibrating slightly in an attempt to get his attention. He stopped jogging and put both hands up, slightly, then pointed a single finger up on one hand as though to say 'one moment please' and reached for his commlink with his other hand. The guy with the gun seemed to get more riled up by the fact that Anthony seemed calm, and still wasn't making any sense, but got closer to put his gun in Anthony's face, as if to make it clear that he meant business. That was what Anthony had been waiting for. The moment the gun came within a few feet of him - too close for a firearm to be effective - the hand that he had up in front of him snapped out and Anthony wrapped his arm around the gun-man's - forcing him to aim the weapon somewhere behind Anthony for the brief moment before the man's arm broke. The man's scream covered the sound of the gun hitting the sidewalk, then died out as he lost consciousness.

Anthony let the body drop, kicked the gun away, and whipped up his commlink from his belt as he turned to face the couple - his movements were incredibly fast and precise, like something out of a martial-arts trid, and seemed to have taken the couple completely by surprise. They stared back at him with wide eyes, before kneeling beside their friend, to check on him. Anthony put his finger back up into the air, as though warning them against trying anything, and checked the message, in the commlink's holo-display. It was from Apollo and mentioned a job - that was all he got in the split second before he noticed that the woman was bawling, and that the other man was reaching for his pistol.

"Really?" Anthony asked, looking at the body on the ground, and noticing, for the first time, that the man's bones seemed to be protruding from the break in his arm. The man seemed to think better of it, and put the hand that was reaching for the pistol up, but the woman lept from where she was, cursing in Spanish, and clawing at Anthony's face in desperation. He, easily, deflected her arms, grabbing one of them and twisting it behind her back - forcing her to face away from him, and onto her knees. The fight seemed to leave her as quickly as it have overtaken her, and her boyfriend seemed to be waiting to see what Anthony was going to do, next. "Gun," Anthony said, lifting slightly on the woman's arm to make her wince. The man slowly drew his pistol, careful not to point it at either of them. Anthony nodded to his side, and the man tossed his firearm onto the ground. Anthony kicked the weapon into the darkness, to join the other one, and then let go of the woman. "Get your friend to a hospital," he said, as he stuck his commlink to the belt of his suit, where its gecko-grip accessory attached itself securely. He shook his head in disappointment, and resumed his jog.

Later that night, from Gnasher's, Anthony returned the message. <I'll be there.> He didn't stay out as late as he usually did, but he had gotten a tip that one of his favorite local fighters was on the roster, and wanted to see the guy in action. For an "underground" pit, there seemed to be a lot of cameras and drones recording the action, but this was L.A.

"Little Hollywood" rooftops
June 1, 2072
9:38 PM

Audriana ran across the top of the roof, nearly stumbling in apparent exhaustion, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin from the light of the moon above. She glances back at the rooftop access door that she had just sealed with chemical glue, only to see it fly off its hinges, a Troll in an Aztech Security uniform bounding out of the now open entrance way. He points to the lone figure on the rooftop "No where left to run!" he cries as others pour from the door behind him onto the roof, all wearing the same uniforms.

Now near the edge of the roof, and having been gazing over it as the Troll made his threat, she turn back and shakes her head "There is always somewhere to run." she responds, and before any of the security can get a bead on her, she take the few final steps to the edge and launches herself over it. "What?!" the large Troll cries and runs towards the edge, reaching it and looking down. His view pans down and over, noticing the adjacent rooftop, about two meters down and at least six meters away, two lanes of traffic below separating the Elf and Troll, as well as a five story drop.

With a cheery wave over her shoulder as she continues to the far edge of the roof, she calls back to her pursuers, "Tell your bosses The Triangle can't be stopped by a couple dozen guards." Without further ado, and with stray bullets now flying in her general direction, she grabs onto the lip of the roof and swings herself down and over, allowing her gecko gloves and special gecko shoes to attach herself to the wall and quickly climb down it, ready to be long gone by the time the Troll and his fellow guards make it down off the building and across the traffic below.

"Aaaaand CUT!" Without any other warning lights pop up all over the two rooftops, Fey pulling herself back up onto the rooftop. She waves happily back at the group of guards and calls "Mikey, was that you that nearly clipped me with a stray bullet? Just because I keep turning you down for a date doesn't mean you can put me in the hospital." One of the guards grins widely back and calls "Just trying to make it more realistic. Besides, you wouldn't be able to resist my charms stuck in a hospital all day, so it is win-win." He receives a light punch on the shoulder from the Troll, which nearly knocks him over, for his comments.

The director, Drass, pops up on everyone's commlinks. He is an Ork that looks like he belongs nowhere but Little Hollywood. He has that distinct look about him of someone trying real hard to seem more important than he really is. "Alright people, that's a wrap for tonight. Go hit the clubs and try to make minor scandels of yourselves, this might actually make it to the big time if a couple of you get popular enough. Fey I still think you should be involved with somebody on the cast, it'll make for great publicity." That was Drass alright, always looking for a few seconds of limelight to come in his general direction, no matter what others had to do to draw it there.

Fey pulls a towel from the stealth black pack she'd been wearing on her back and wipes her face of the sheen of sweat as she unceremoniously gives Drass her response with a free finger. "See, it'd be great publicity with how feisty you are. Maybe even a romance with the director." he says, actually sounding hopeful, despite having asked at least twice per shoot. The towel gets placed over a shoulder so her other hand is free to help emphasize her point of her first. "Fine, have it your way, but you're missing out. A ladder provides access to the streets below, and she meets up with the rest of the crew to talk a bit.

Eventually she checks her commlink and finds the mail that she'd gotten a while ago. A minute or so later she is chatting with Rob and convincing him to cancel her lunch with some exec from Evo trying to pitch some new cosmetic surgery that he wants her to claim she got to make her look as good as she did. She already planned on turning him down anyway, so it was wasted time "Come on, you keep telling me about how important it is to get attention, I think something like this would draw quite a few eyes, and maybe a few important ones." It takes a bit of wrangling, but Rob finally agrees.

<Sounds like fun, count me in.>

Fey spends some time in makeup getting rid of the extra touch ups her part requires, including a slight rounding of her ears, her own being particularly pointed. She blows off some offers to hit the clubs with other cast, instead deciding that a nice long bath was the proper reward for a night of hard work. The director had been very particular about her working up an actual sweat for the scene, to make it seem more authentic. She'd think he was just enjoying himself if it weren't for the fact that one of his main things for the picture seemed to be authenticity. That's why she'd actually made the jump on top of actual rooftops with an actual five story drop if she messed up (Massive crash pad provided of course) and why they were actually filming at night. The Aztech uniforms were supposedly authentic as well, though Drass never mentioned how he managed to get them.

On her cab ride back to her apartment on the very edge between Little Hollywood and Hollywood proper, she updated her blog and attached a small clip from the recent shoot, showing her running up the stairwell with bullets slamming into the concrete around her. <Hello LA! Another great day, or night in this case, of shooting on the upcoming new Trid, "The Triangle", staring yours truly as the prime runner of The Triangle, fighting to stop the evil Aztech plots. What plots? You'll have to get the Trid and find out for yourself. *Picture of Aztech logo with a bit of extra evil added in, and "The Triangle" spray painted in red over it*. Expect it to be released on time later this month. Speaking of runners though, I think I'll have some real exciting personal feed for everyone soon. Don't know much yet, but tune in around two tomorrow and find out what is in store. Live video and audio provided. Now, time for a nice relaxing bath. Catch you next time my star struck followers.>

With that she enters her apartment, glad to see that her roommate isn't asleep yet "Going to take a bath." Fey informs her roommate, going to the fridge to get some water first, drinking it slowly over a few minutes, giving her roommate time to use the restroom before it is unavailable for an hour or so. "I still say you have some fish lineage in you somewhere." her roommate teases. A few minutes later, after checking that the security screens are up on the windows, Fey finds herself submerged in the just-shy-of-too-hot water.

Los Angeles
June 2nd 2072
5:53 AM

The sun rises over Los Angeles, cutting through the dense layer of smog that had settled like a blanket over the city while it slept, or pretended to sleep in some cases. Already there was traffic backed up for miles on the freeways, honking echoing throughout the city and across the waterfront. It is a typical LA morning, meaning that the regular wageslaves are on their way back to work while the privileged and the SINless slept in.

Already the day is heating up, and by all forecasts it is going to be at least 85 along the coast and only slightly cooler going inland, with only minimal cloud cover and absolutely no chance of rain. Geologists say there is a minimal chance of some trembles this week, but nothing that any building built in the last 50 years is even going to blink at.

On the news is the usual daily gossip, Cline was spotted at the LA Dante's Inferno last night, mingling with the hottest new starlets in town. When asked about new P2.0 accounts, he was his usual silent self, only smiling at the camera and telling everyone to wait, it will be worth it. In other news, CalTech played another massive prank of UCLA last night, somehow triggering a mass Orgy spell during the middle of the debate match between UCLA and the University of Seattle, and then hacking the trid feeds and broadcasting the spectacle across the UCLA campus. This is a new high in the prank war between the two rival schools, and everyone is expecting a retaliatory blow from UCLA to happen soon. Also, there was a triple homicide at a Stuffer Shack in North Hollywood last night. The clerk and two customers were shot and robbed by a pair of nondescript orcs at 3 in the morning. Pueblo Sec forces say that they are looking into the killings and are telling everyone that they will have the murderers in cuffs by weeks end.

Pasadena Heights, Ground floor Flat
June 2nd, 2072
7:30 AM

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep..... Joshua woke to the sound of the alarm clock in his room. Irritated he reached over the side and hit the off button then rolled back over. Moments later the trid screen in his bedroom switched on to the local news channel, he let out a sigh and hit the button on the bed to raise him up to sitting. He let the news wash over him for the next 15 minutes before he decided to get out of bed and face the day.

He picked up the commlink from the side table and checked for messages. None. Well to be fair he hadnt expected any on that link. <He'd probably have a couple on the other one, mostly odd jobs and work requests as was usually the case> he thought as he pulled himself, by way of an overhanging handle, into his wheel chair. He commanded the chair to take him to the kitchen as he mulled over the days plans <load the van, final equipment check, check traffic to the restaurant, wait impatiently> He'd be nervous probably, no doubt it would show as well. He'd have to work on that for the future.

Breakfast was a simple affair. Soyoats, soycaf, other things with soy in them. He preferred real food but money was getting tighter and he needed to cut back somewhere. After this run he'd treat himself to a steak somewhere. Real American beef. He watched the news and weather reports as he normally did every morning. The repeated story of the murders at the stuffer shack got plenty of airtime. And by 9:30 the traffic was calming down on the major trouble spots into the city.

After breakfast he donned the persona of Michael Dewitt. The Michaels commlink held several messages, as he played them through he only half listened. Most were business, a couple where 'friends'. One from a woman he'd met at a social he'd dragged himself too, she - like him, was wheelchair bound and had been pestering him for the last month to go and 'have dinner'. He shook his head and sent back a message to her "Karen, will be out of town for a few days, catch up when we get back. Michael X" he wasn't sure about the virtual kiss, he was hoping might disarm her and keep her at arms length for a few days.

The van was fueled and ready to go. The Stormcloud and Rotodrone loaded in the back along with a single iball. If the run went well he would add to the list a couple more drones. Probably an optic-X and a ferret. Too early to think about that though, rent, bills, food all came first.

About 11AM he finally dressed for the meeting. He selected the only suit he owned (black, of course) along with a crisp white shirt and black tie, it took him a good 30 minutes to dress and get himself back into the chair, satisfied he looked the best he could he headed out.

Gridsure told him that it would take an hour given the current levels of traffic to get to Yamashiro's, but he didnt want to trust that to luck so he left with two hours on the clock. Besides, once he was there he could decide the best option for eyes in the sky should he choose to do so.

Yamashiro's Restaurant
June 2nd, 2072
13:55PM

Joshua had arrived with 45minutes to spare. After driving past he decided against drone deployment for the time being and would rely on public scene should anything untoward happen. He caught himself <you're not lone star anymore Sarial, you're just a diner going to Yamashiro's for a business lunch.">

He waited until 10 to the hour then pulled up outside the restaurant. It was up the top of a small hill, a small private road served as a way for him to reach the front. He pulled himself out of his cocoon and into the chair, then drove to the door of the restaurant. He quickly issued a park command to the van which followed the public nodes parking directions.

Inside Joshua wheeled over to the concierge and smiled "Good afternoon, I have a reservation under the name of Morimoto." he waited for the response.

San Bernardino
June 2nd, 2072
7:00-2:00 AM

Anthony was up for his morning jog/workout, which was never as exciting as his evenings. At this hour, nobody in his neighborhood was out and about, and it didn't seem like such a terrible place to live - which was part of the appeal of choosing this time to work out. The morning went by, uneventfully, and by 10:00, Tony was bathed, dressed, and ready to head into the city for his lunch-meet. Checking his message again, he saw that the appointment was at 2, which left him with 4 hours to kill. He flipped through some news feeds on the handful of channels his basic-level MSP provided, and dreaded spending the afternoon sweltering in a suit if it was in the 90's outside. Yamashiro would certainly be air-conditioned, and he wasn't about to show up in shorts and a T-shirt, but the ride over would be a bitch unless he splurged on a nicer cab. He would have loved to show up in a limo, but as it was, he could barely afford a taxi-ride. Jacket, as Tony would be known today, got out of his air-conditioned cab with a good 10-20 minutes to spare. He grimaced as he transferred the extortion money to the automated driver, and adjusted his tie before heading into the building. He kept his AR shades on, even while inside - the polarized lenses adjusted to compensate for the dimmer lighting - and as an AR query popped up asking for his reservation, he provided the name that Apollo had given him. <Morimoto.>

Sunset Hotel, Room 206,
June 2nd, 2072
10.00 AM

DD was woken up by her commlink's "Wake up call" routine, a customized simsense routine fed through her simrig. Yawning and stretching, the - now blonde - girl proceeded to the bath of her hotel room while ordering breakfast through the room service - a full american breakfast, her dietware let her munch without worry.

While she ate she checked her blog hits, the fashion and other news feeds - gruesome murders, those, but those dresses there were a true crime! - and the results from a few searches of her agent. She studied Apollo's latest look and went through her most recent wardrobe, pairing up a virtual figure of herself in various dresses with a virtual Apollo before settling on a daring dress from a local designer, very low cut in front, and very short, as thight to be almost painted on, and sporting customized AR ornaments.

That should fit in. One she had picked her dress she updated her blog, adding a status report as well as some sim records from last night's late activities with an ork football player and another girl from the Divine Comedy.

< 'i there, faithful fans! Catch a sneak peek at me in my dress-for-work - today's the big shadowrunner meeting, in the best restaurant in town! What will it be? What kind of sensual seductions and daring 'acking feats will be needed today? Stay tuned for more intimate news from your favorite 'acker! >

DD picked her decoy commlink, a Flash-Pak, her ear buds and her shades and left the hotel, changing into her runner persona two cabs later, on the way to the meeting - she put on her shades, changed the color of her fiberoptic hair and expanded her breasts until she fit her runner identity.

She was, with some time to spare, ready for the meeting with Apollo.

Hollywood Hills
June 2nd, 2072
7:30 AM

Fox normally was a nocturnal creature, staying out late at parties, staying up late getting wrapped up in her studies, all the best things seemed to happen late at night. This morning was different, she had a task to do that was best done in the morning, so she had bid an early goodbye to Celia and her mother the night before so that she would be fresh for the morning. Rising and doing the neccessary the young mage sat on her bed after her shower, not bothering to get dressed beyond throwing on a robe.

Focusing, she sends out her will, calling forth a spirit to aid her in the coming day. The spirit of Man was much more powerful than she normally summoned since she wanted it to be able to back her up in case of trouble. Too powerful for her this early in the morning apparently, she was only able to match its will rather than get it to submit to hers. It owed her no service, and swiftly departed back to the meta-planes, leaving Isabella with a slight head-ache, but she knew she had to try again.



Isabella dozed lightly for an hour, till her alarm beeped 10:00 AM.



This time the young blonde girl seemed to settle into the rythm of the summoning much better. Bella smiled at the spirit that she could feel echoing in her head, feeling a flush of pride in her success, she'd given the spirit a stronger connection to herself than normal, giving it the ability to cast on of her spells, it was what had made her choose this type of spirit in the first place. When the time came, she would have the spirit wrap an illusion around her to hide her identity for a get away if needed, she planned to use her Make-over spell as somewhat of a disguise, this was LA after-all shadowrunning was a pretty open secret. She would carry a mask for when she was on runs, one she already had picked out, a painted fox mask, but when she couldn't wear it, a make-over spell to change her hair color and make a few other cosmetic alterations would be enough.



Nodding to herself, Bella dismissed the spirit until later, making her preperations for her first ever meeting with a Johnson. First she put on her body armor, a skintight black suit that covered her from her upper thighs to shoulders, though without any sleeves. Over top of that she slipped on a green silk Kimono that was short enough that it didn't even come half-way down to her knees, and a pair of black tights made up the difference making sure that the girl wouldn't be known for exposing herself if she sat incorrectly or moved to fast, she did want a reputation, but flashing her intimate parts wasn't it. Inside the waist-band of her tights at the small of her back she put her pistol, letting the fall of the kimono's loose material cover it up...though a frisk or even a good long look would certainly find it, she didn't have any 'junk in her trunk' as the saying went, and a gun shaped lump overher butt was likely to in fact be a gun, it should suffice though, Hollywood was all about illusions and being polite enough to accept the illusions that other people put off, besides it was just a back-up.

Yamashiro's Restaurant
June 2nd, 2072
1:50 PM

She had the car service pick her up from Jay's place and drop her off at the resturant with fifteen minutes to spare. When she got out of the Westwind outfront, with the valet holding the door for her, Fox's hair was a vibrant red that set off her green eyes perfectly, she also had faint tracery on her cheeks that looked like a fox's whiskers to round out the persona. She winked at the Valet and walked to door, telling the hostess with a playful voice, "Morimoto party."

Yamashiro's Restaurant
June 2nd, 2072
1:55 PM

DD entered the restaurant, her agent floating around her in the form of an eastern dragon in, visible in AR, and beamed at the receptionist. "Morimoto Party, Sir."

Picture

Rising Star Apartments
June 2nd, 2072
7:05 AM

Fey awakens to the smell of eggs and bacon. Not due to any sort of automated scent systems, but because her roommate is making bacon and eggs, from real bacon and real eggs none the less. Fey stays in bed for a minute or two, trying to hold on to the dream she'd been having, but it is quickly whisked away by the call of "Breakfast's almost ready" from her roommate. Sighing a bit at the lost dream Fey gets out of bed and slips an oversized shirt over her tight fitting top and bottom that she uses as pajamas. She may be in the fairly high life, but she still wasn't used to it, and so reverted to her old habits when not being watched.

Some small chat over breakfast before her roommate has to run to a shoot, and then Fey catches up on the latest news, taking some time to get reviews on the latest new trids and sims, and search around a bit for any new celebrity gossip. She rounded out her schedule before getting dressed properly, packing an extra change of clothing for the meet, and going off to another project she is working on. A few dullish meetings about getting another trid started later, and it is time to get ready for lunch.

It was a good thing Fey had Rob to help out with the fashion stuff, as he quickly helped her avoid a fashion faux pas. Eventually though she is in her new outfit, a one piece dress that is fairly tight fitting from the hips up to the sleeveless shoulders. The skirt is long and quite loose, allowing her to move her legs rather easily even without the aid of the slit cut in the dress, meaning she didn't show all that much leg. The dress itself is forest green, with only slight changes in shade marking out the leaf patterns. Perhaps a bit more appropriate in fall, but it goes well with her green eyes and long chestnut brown hair.

Yamashiro's Restaurant
June 2nd, 2072
1:58 PM

As Fey steps out of the cab, designed to look like a slightly short limousine; fashionable but much cheaper, she turns on her live image and sound feeds for anyone who might be watching her live blog, adding a quick message <Here we are, a live meet for a Run. Lets see how negotiations go.>. She gives the name, Morimoto, and quickly follows to the correct table. 'Wow, barely made it on time, stupid meetings'

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:00 PM


As you each approach the entrance to the restaurant the doors openly smoothly for you, automatically sensing your approach and transmitting the formal Japanese greeting for the hour to your PAN, Konnichiwa, as the hostess greets you with a formal head bow and asks for your reservation.

Upon hearing the name Morimoto, the hostess quietly types something into the air in front of her, and a waiter emerges from deeper in the restaurant to lead you to one of the private dining rooms. The walk through the restaurant takes a minute and is quiet uneventful, as Yamashiro is mainly made up of individual private dining rooms to give their guests the privacy that they pay for. The waiter finally leads you to a room near the back of the restaurant, one of the higher class private rooms, and opens the sliding wooden screen door for you. There is a small table for your shoes outside the door, and the waiter will quietly cringe if you do not remove your shoes before entering the room. The room is empty when the first of you arrive, there is no Mr. Johnson present when all of you arrive.

The room is laid out in a traditional Japanese style, with seating mats around a low table. The walls look like paper screens on wooden frames, letting in ambient light from outside, though upon close inspection, the paper appears to be a colored plasticrete glass and the wooden frames as etched steel in the pattern of wood grain.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:00 PM


DD, well-versed in japanese etiquette, steps out of her high heels - a quick mental command creates a link on her log that explains the custom - and walks into the private room, smiling brightly at the others already present. "'ello! I am DD."

No Apollo around yet...

She kneels down on a mat, smoothing her short skirt, looking the other people present - other runners, presumably - over, both visually and electronically. Her own PAN is offering her e-card, advertising "data services" as well as a link to her blog.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:00 PM


Jacket, being no stranger to several martial arts dojos, doesn't bat an eye at the expectation that he would remove his shoes before entering. Although he wasn't familiar enough with Japanese culture to expect this, here, he easily rolled with the punches. He bowed slightly, not knowing enough Japanese to say anything meaningful, and knelt to remove his dress-shoes, noticing, as he did, that they could use a good polish. They were covered in scuff-marks, nicks, and he noticed at least two discolorations that were probably someone else's blood. The black material hid them well, but up close, filtered through his image-enhancing glasses, the flaws stood out. He had only to brush his gloved hand against the release-sensor and the shoes loosened of their own accord. He also gestured in AR and dropped his PAN into "hidden" mode. He doubted, in a private place like this, it would attract much attention. He stood and slid them off, and stepped into the room. Jacket nodded curtly at those already seated, and began to look around the room. He paced around the table, pressing against the wall with his hand, testing its strength, as others filled in. He accepted whatever introductions were offered, introducing himself as "Jacket". His size, shape, and quiet demeanor left little question as to what it was he brought to the table, so Jacket left it at that, for now.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:00 PM

Following DD's example fox slips off her sandals, placing them into the tray of shoes before she follows the green haired woman into the room. "Hello DD, I'm Fox." the teenager says, and she certainly looks it with vibrant red hair and green eyes with the faintest of whisker marks on her cheeks.

These people certainly seem to be playing the part...

The teenager kneels down on the mat next to DD's, and smooths out the silk of the short kimono around her thigs, more grateful than before that she'd thought to wear the tights otherwise the sitting on the floor would introduce far too many people to her anatomy. Looking around at the two others so far present, she shifts her perception into the Astral Space wanting to get an understanding of them, either if they had implants, were magical, or none of the above.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:05 PM

Those of you inside the dining room hear the slightly elevated and agitated voice of a man outside the dining room. "You have to be kidding me?" Sarial says unable to contain the sudden feeling of anger threatening to overwhelm him, "Dammit. Of all the places. Right, well if i got to suffer, you've got to suffer. I want two of your people to carry me in you got it? Right."

More sounds, hushed voices filter in through the door way before it opens revealing an interested, if slightly out of place and disturbing view. An obvious paraplegic cradled between two red faced waiters enters, arms around both of their shoulders, he appears to be in his early thirties, brown hair, he wears an ill fitting black suit, white shirt and black tie. Whilst the jacket fits fairly well the trousers dangle below the waist in an emptiness.

AS the waiters place him carefully at the table, propping him up with a number of large cushions he glances around the room, then regaining a little of his composure he smiled, "Sarial, nice to meet you. Nice restuarant this, interesting policy to leave you're shoes by the door. As you can see, thats a little more inconvenient for me than most. I had to leave my legs and steed out there too." Sarials voice drips with Sarcasm and the comment is clearly aimed at the departing waiters, a pause then he continues, "Apollo not here yet?"

Jacket, while pacing the room, appraised the other two runners. The 'older' woman, and Jacket used the term loosely, was about what he had come to expect from this line of work. She looked like she could reasonably handle herself - you didn't get very far in the Shadows, looking that good, if you could not. The younger girl, however, looked like she should be in high-school - not at a Shadowrun meet - and that gave him a bad feeling. He watched her sit, and tried to figure out what made her so special that Apollo was willing to overlook her age, and presumed lack of experience. He was sure there was something, and had to remind himself that this job probably wouldn't be nearly as dangerous as a night in the pit. Just as he had given up on guessing at Apollo's motivations and resigned himself to play babysitter, if he had to, he heard angry voices from the doorway, and turned to see a man, about his own age, being carried in by the staff.

You have got to be kidding me.

Jacket tried to cover his alarmed expression with a smile at the newcomer, "Just us. Not sure if Apollo is gonna be here, or if we're on our own. The name's Jacket - you guys can call me Jay."

Fox looked at Jay, appearing slghtly surprised, but there was no immediate indication as to why. Internally though she was shocked at the sheer number of implants he had, and the gaping holes in his aura that they left. She'd never seen someone who had given that much of themself away to well...not machine since it was bioware, but it wasn't his own body, then again she suppoused he was the fast person she had met that she could classify as a street samurai, maybe they were all like that.

"You have an awful lot of implants Jay. You should be mindful not to go too much further or your body's essence will slip away entirely...oh, and you needn't worry about me, I may be young, but I'm very powerful." the teen mage says, smiling slightly and looking rather confident in spite of her age.

"Its a...nice to meet you Sarial. I'm Fox."

Jay crinkled his smile into a look of mild annoyance, at first, then relaxed just as quickly. Calmly, he added, "...I'll pass that along to the doc... next time I go under the knife." He was right about the girl, it seemed. He hoped Apollo had as much confidence in her, as she seemed to have in herself.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:06 PM

Coming in almost on Sarial's 'heels', Fey is rather glad of the blaring notice to take off her shoes, she still wasn't used to all these fancy traditions. She smiles brightly at the others in the room when she walks in, her natural 'charm' giving the smile a few extra sparkles than it should really have, but only in the best way. She mimics the kneeling sitting position of the others, glad that she hadn't picked out something short. While she seems comfortable enough sitting there, those good at reading people might notice some discomfort and a tendency to slouch just a touch before sitting up straighter again, though her 'charm' makes this hard to notice.

The AR around her isn't particularly impressive, having the look of a stock sort of system that has been only minimally been tinkered with. It runs short clips of the two trids she's been in, as well as the most recent clip from her current shoot. There is also a link to her blog, which currently has a five second delay relay of her own vision running on it.

After a moment to settle into her seat she smiles again as she says "Hey, I'm Fey." the rhyme almost certainly intentional. She takes a few moments to glance over each of the others kneeling around the table. She caught the tail of the conversation, and so joins in to keep the chatter light until Apollo shows up. "Have to agree with Fox, can't imagine letting someone cut you open and stick stuff in you. Sounds too similar to your own job." leaning just a touch towards Fox as she says this, and looking at Jacket, hoping she got who was who, though there couldn't be too much doubt based on everyone's appearance.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:06 PM




DD keeps smiling, raising a mental eyebrow at the rather blunt remarks.

Not the most diplomatic greeting... she thinks. A colorful bunch, and the banter and tension should make for good ratings though. I wonder if Jay is gonna be the straight man here.

Jay smirked, masking his discomfort more easily the second time his implants are brought up. For a brief moment, he considered the possibility that this was some sort of intervention, but he dismissed it. These people were all strangers, and it didn't seem like Apollo's style. "My job?" he exhaled lightly, in amusement. "In my line of work, you stay at the top of your game, or you end up on the wrong side of that same operating table." He shrugged, and added. "...not that all this," he gestured at his own impressively constructed body, "would save me, if I didn't also know how to use it."

Jacket decided, at the last minute, to try to divert the conversation back towards business, rather than to let it linger on his sketchy health. "I'm assuming that's why Apollo brought me on, anyway. What about the rest of you? What do you do?"

Sarial glanced over at J. "Me well my background is rigging, i have some basic hacking skills as well as driving. I know im not here for my legs, so im here for the tech side of things."

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:06 PM


"I am good at 'andling computers as well as people." DD beams at Jay, then at the others present, using her french accent. "Sexiest 'acker you will ever meet, cheri."

Her commlink offers a few simsense recordings of past matrix runs and other performances - cleaned of incriminating evidence though - while she let her looks and pheromones speak for her.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:06 PM


"I'm a mage, I do magic." Fox answers, sounding rather proud of her status. "I'm the best spell caster you'll ever meet. I'm no slouch with spirits or defensive magic, but I really shine with casting spells. I may not have the toys that other mages have, yet, but on pure skill I'm equal to just about any meta-human you could name." the red-head boasts.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:07 PM

"Well, since we're all being so open, I open stuff." she gives a wink to no one in particular "I get into places without being seen or maybe just not noticed and all that." she expands slightly on her skill set. The urge to slouch is getting uncomfortable and she's only been here for a few minutes, she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to fancy places like this. "So are we actually eating at this fancy place or just meeting here?" she asks, calling up the AR menu. She'd already eaten breakfast and so didn't really need any more for the day, but she was still treasuring real food while she had it.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:07 PM

As if in response to Fey's question, the sliding door to the room opens once more, this time to reveal an handsome ork dressed in the top of line Vashon Island Synergist suit, a crisp, clean piece of art masquerading as a suit. He is wearing what appear to brand new mirror finish Oakley shades, and when he smiles at everyone in the room, his tusks glisten in capped platinum.

"Please, everyone, do order whatever you would like, this is a lunch meeting after all," he says with a smile as he enters the room, crossing on black socked feet to the empty sitting mat at the head of the table. "Sorry I am late, you know how traffic can be in the valley."

Sliding gracefully down into a formal sitting position on the floor, the ork says, "I recommend the Seattle roll, that is what I am going to be having. And to drink, the Yama-Jito, a sweet twist on the mojito- with sake."

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:07 PM

DD straightens up a tiny bit when she spots the ork, mentally licking her lips at his appearance. That's what Hot Stuff looks like! She uses her internal commlink to alter the AR designs and dress ornaments a bit to match his suit's look better while she greets him.

In response to his offer she pulls up the menu, picking the Seattle Rolls and the drink he recommended - as much because they are likely to be very good as well as a bit of flattery.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:07 PM

Fox gives the ork who was obviously the johnson a slight bow, the most she could manage from her seated position. This is it, my first official Johnson! Keep cool. She uses the simrig concealed in her hair to start transmitting her emotions and impressions to her 'link. She was hoping to sell a first person perspective of a runner's first run to...someone, maybe Jay would know. Someone out there would want the simrecording of her first run, just for the reason that she was a mage and mundanes were interested if nothing else.

In response to the Ork's offer Fox briefly browsed the AR menu and put in an order for Shrimp Tempura and Jasmine tea. The shrimp was her favorite, and the tea was because she knew enough to know that she didn't know everything. It would be easier to pick up what she didn't from the others if she could actually make out what they were doing.

Jacket hadn't planned on ordering much - sort of an informal rule not to accept food from the unsavory sorts he was used to meeting with. However, this job probably wasn't the sort of gig he was used to. Apollo had struck him as someone who took their job seriously, and didn't treat their tools as disposable. He glanced at the menu briefly, before ordering the Seattle rolls and a Yama-Jito.

Moments later Sarial glanced up from his menu and ordered the Californication rolls and the Bushido Martini. He glanced over at the Ork after he finished ordering. His lenses taking a quick still photo for future reference.

As soon as the discussions begun Sarial started recording, he'd want to be able to accurately blog the meet later.

After a flurry of AR activity, as the team made their separate orders, Jacket shifted his position on the floor, uncomfortably, as a silence fell over the table. He appreciated the free lunch, but hoped that the Johnson would get down to business now that their orders had been taken.

When Terrence walked into the restaurant, he did so with a practiced casualness. Never mind the fact he had been across the street for the past half hour, “casing the joint” like they called it in the old days. While doing so, he had smoked his way through half a pack of cigarette, and mostly pretended to drink his coffee. He had simply watched, patiently, for any signs. “Signs of what” would have probably been a sound question to ask Terrence. Truth be told, the man himself wasn’t even sure what he was looking for anymore. Force of habit, that is, the habit of keeping oneself alive, had forced him to adopt a certain pattern to his usual business dealings.

He gave a pleasant and relaxed smile to the hostess, greeting her with a small bow of the head. The smile lingered on his lips for some time, as he made eye contact with the woman. A few months ago, Terrence would have never met face to face with a Johnson. A few months ago, no Johnson would have actually even wanted to meet him. People who required his services usually preferred not to sit across from him. Truth be told, most people felt uncomfortable with Terrence once they found out what he did exactly. Sure, a lot of his fellow shadow acquaintances shot and stabbed people in the face for money, just like he did. What bothered people was that it wasn’t only Terrence speciality, but it seemed to bother him oh so little. He was the kind of man who would strangle your grand aunt with her own oxygen tank’s breathing tube, and then go into the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. And he’d smile while spreading the mustard on.

In all honesty, Terrence Forester was a grade A sociopath.

“Good evening sir. Do you have a reservation?”

One hand casually dug inside his jacket’s pocket, Terrence peered at her over a pair of silver framed square glasses.

“Do you have any specials tonight?”

The hostess blinked once, apparently not expecting the question. A consummate professional though, she launched into a quick explanation of the day’s menu. Terrence nodded a few times here and there, visibly paying attention to her, but truthfully taking the place in. She seemed at ease enough… Odds were still in his favour. But then again, maybe in a few minutes PCC security goons would swarm the place. Or some bounty hunter would come crashing the party.

Terrence cracked a smile mostly for himself. Oh how entertaining was life when everyone was after you.

“Would you like a table sir?”

Again, he smiled warmly at her.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m actually here to meet a friend, Mr. Morimoto.”

When Terrence came into the small private dining room, he didn’t seem fazed by the situation one bit. The man obviously late. He also obviously acted like it was a terribly boring and normal thing. He made sure to smile and make eye contact with everyone before sitting down.

“Ladies and Gentleman, good evening.”

Unbuttoning his jacket, Terrence reached in slowly, with the care of someone making it painfully obvious he wasn’t reaching for a gun. Out came a slender chromed cigarette case, which he flipped open and offered to anyone who might want one.

He tapped a cigarette a few times on the table.
Terrence, for all intent and purposes, look like the other million of faceless corporate executive that populated a good chunk of the city.

Hair cut in the latest corporate fashion.
Suit tailored in the latest corporate fashion.
Cigarette, watch and glasses from the latest corporate ads.

From that strangely hard to pin down age range of mid 30s / early 40s, even with the hair streaked with grey here and there.

He lit his cigarette, apparently not bothering himself with the menu.

“I do hope my late arrival hasn’t caused me to miss anything.”

He took another slow drag.

“The name’s Terrence.”

Fae isn't particularly fond of fish, cooked or uncooked, and so decides to go with a fairly simple rice dish. It is fairly bland compared to alot of the other options, but it is best to take new things in small steps, and Fae hasn't eaten at a place quite like this before. She also avoids alcohol, instead opting for water. She'd consider tea if it wasn't so hot out. Perhaps a bad use of a free meal at an exclusive restaurant, but Fae is hardly in a sore spot for food.

Turning to see the late arrival, Fae says in a playfully teasing tone "Someone's late." She declines a cigarette and pointedly moves several inches further away from the man, half wishing she'd brought a gas mask... she hated the smell of those things.

Terrence chuckled once.

"If you're there before it's over, you're on time."

Jacket simply nodded at the late arrival, before returning his attention to the Johnson. Terrence was able to walk in and sit down on his own, and didn't look like a highschooler, so his arrival - late though it may be - looked like an improvement of the situation.

Sarial glanced at the newcomer, his photo being taken and stored for processing later. He nodded, declined the offered Cigarette and turned his attentions back to the Johnson.

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:15 PM

Everyone's orders arrive within ten minutes of being ordered, fresh and appetizing, and the Johnson cuts through any awkwardness of who should eat first by smiling to everyone and quickly starting in on his Seattle roll, raising the roll to his lips with chopsticks with relative ease.

"Please, everyone, enjoy your meals. We can discuss business after we eat, I like to keep my pleasure separate from my business," Mr. Johnson says in between bites.

Sarial nods at his host and samples the food, dropping the chopsticks several times as he does so.

"Never did get that hang of these," he said trying to hide his embarrassment. "Mind you its not often i get to dine in an upmarket Japanese restaurant either."

Jacket looked a bit disappointed that the Johnson was going to keep business conversation until after everyone had eaten. He was planning to finish his food, in any case, but it seemed as though the rag-tag team of strangers would have very little to talk about - and even less that they would be willing to talk about - except the pretext which brought them all together. As he silently reached toward his own rolls, Sarial surprised him by speaking up - nothing too personal, or too revealing, but it was better than silence. Jacket looked around to see if anyone else would follow suit, and fill the room with idle smalltalk, but not volunteering, himself, just yet. His attention remained on his own chopsticks, which he wielded with unusually agile fingers. This merely compensated for his own complete lack of experience, allowing him to get the food into his mouth with success, but not with the casual panache the Johnson demonstrated.

After everyone has enjoyed their meals, Mr. Johnson reachs for his drink and takes a small sip, clearing his throat, before speaking to the group.

"So, now that that is out of the way, why don't I explain why I had Apollo summon you all here to meet with me. The party that I represent would like you to extricate a young student from CalTech's graduating Master class, before he moves into their Doctorate program. The graduation ceremony is in two days time, on the CalTech campus; he must leave that ceremony with you and no one else. I cannot reveal the identity of the student until you agree to this task, but I can offer you 10,000 up front and 30,000 at completion, along with something to make it worth your while: I have a number of untouched P2.0 accounts set aside for those who help bring the student away from CalTech." Mr. Johnson smiles his charming smile the entire time, speaking smoothly, and with the confidence of one who is used to making business deals such as these.

Jacket smirked at the mention of P2.0. It was certainly a tantalizing, and unusual, bonus. He hadn't really put a lot of thought into what he would do with a P2.0 account - such signs of social status were well outside of his budget - but the few moments he spent entertaining the idea appealed to him. He knew people liked to watch him fight. This certainly came off as a higher-class way of putting his talents to the same ends - far more respectable than soaking the floors of some local dive in a back-room pit-fight. Returning his attention to the meet, he asked. "It is reasonable to withhold the target's name, for now, but can you tell us if the client is on-board with this... or will we he or she be uncooperative?" He brought this question up first - not because it was the most important of the question on his mind - but because it seemed like a good idea to open with something the Johnson would probably agree to disclose. He also knew the Johnson wouldn't have an answer to the question that worried him most about the job. Maybe after a little more discussion, he would feel more confident about what they were being asked to do.

The Johnson sat back a little on his heels, adjusting his weight on his legs, smiling but also maybe taking the time to consider his words.

"The student is not unwilling to relocate, but he may have accepted a potential change from others as well. That is as much as I can let you know at this time about it though."

Sarial sat quietly and listened to the question from Jacket.

"Well, the thought of P2.0 alone is enough to have my interest Mr Johnson. And 40,000 seems okay, dependent on the overall risk. So i'm definately interested." He paused for a moment, "are you able to say who the other interested parties may be or are we waiting for the others to agree?"

Fae leans back some, resting on her hands, unable to handle sitting 'properly' any longer. She looks around the table and counts out the others who are supposedly here for the mission as well. Her ears give a slight twitch, perking up as she hears the P2.0 offer, though she does her best to continue as though it hadn't been a particularly interesting bit.

"50k would be so much easier to split though." she muses softly, as though to herself, but loudly enough for everyone to hear. An extraction from a school, wouldn't even be a single door that needs opening. Didn't exactly sound like her specialty, but it didn't sound hard either, and the P2.0 would be enough on its own to have her want to join in. Still, it didn't hurt to try sweetening the pot.

Jacket nodded. His second question had been asked by someone else, which suited him just fine. He had already decided to accept the job, although he wanted to try to get as much information as the Johnson would part with ahead of time. He didn't have a lot of experience negotiating these sorts of things - but he's been hired to guard enough people who have to know that the guy offering the money won't volunteer need-to-know information if it would give you a hand-hold for asking for more money. That said, if you ask them, directly, and it really is need-to-know, honor or reputation usually compels them to answer, or at least let you know that there is something to know that they can't go into details about yet. If the Johnson were to flat-out lie to them, and then spring the truth after they agreed... well... a lot of Shadowrunners would probably suck it up - himself included - but people would probably understand if they walked.

Having thought of another question, Jacket waited for the Johnson to clear the queue before asking, "Since you mentioned a Doctorate, is it safe to assume that one of the student's other agreements was with CalTech? It makes a big difference if we're going up against a few party crashers with other job offers, like ourselves, or if we should expect the entire weight of the school to come crashing down on us."

Yamashiro
June 2nd, 2072
2:50 PM

DD visibly perked up when she heard about the P2.0 account. Jackpot! That was what she was here for, what she run the shadows for - recognition, fame. Oh, and fortune too. She nodded at Fae's bid for more money, and at Jacket's words "I 'ave to agree, though some of those other offers could be from people with deep pockets. What kind of faculty are we talking about?"