-Incoming Message, Sent to: Big Train, Clef, Big D, Fury, Siren, Hickory. Message Sent at April 22nd 8:00pm-
Word on the street is you kids are looking for work. I'm looking to get a team together for some work out of Tacoma. If you are interested please meet me at Basil's Faulty Bar on the west side of Tacoma at precisely 3:30pm.

-Fiona

-April 23rd 2:27pm, Tacoma, Seattle-
The air was cold and dreary along with the rain that fell around Fiona. It wasn't a far walk from her car to the restaurant. Basil's was a hole on the wall bar, but was perfect for what she had in mind. The outside doorman, scanned her quickly for any obvious weapons and she was permitted inside. She gave the man a brief smile and nodded.
Behind the bar sat the owner and proprietor of Basil's, Abe Heep. He was an Ork with a rigid look to him, who kept his eyes on the entire bar at once. It was still early in the day and there were only a few patrons around the bar and were keeping to themselves.
Fiona leaned back again the booth seat and crossed her arms. She looked semi-professional, which was a bit too much in her opinion, but she had work to do. She was wearing a business casual dress suit and her red hair was pulled back up behind her head in a tight bun. Her emerald eyes were set back into her skull with age. She looked like she was at least thirty, though she felt and acted much younger.
She scanned the bar over a few times, and waited for her company to arrive.

- April 23rd 11:53am, Downtown, Seattle -

The hangover was only mild, but it was closing in on noon already, when she finally had a chance to read her messages from the last evening. The spam filter had already sorted out most of the unwanted ones, but as usual, there were a number she had to sift through herself. There was one, especially, that caught her attention. The rest business as usual. A number of flirt messages, a few more serious ones. Nothing special. Except for this one. Fiona? Who was this woman? She tried to remember, but couldn't think of anything. Anyways, it said work. Work meant cash. And cash was good.

She got up, looking for the pieces of her dress, that were scattered across the room. It wasn't much. Gathering them together, she went to the bathroom and maybe an hour later, she was heading out of the hotel room. On her way out, she gently planted a kiss on the cheek of the guy still lying in the bed, leaving the marks of her lipstick there. He stirred, but was still asleep.

Back home, the first step was figuring out what to wear for the upcoming meeting. Given the time, she decided on something casual; jeans, halter top, boots with modest heels and her mid-thigh-length trench coat. All black, except for the washed-out blue jeans. A few looks into the mirror to check that everything looked perfect. Even in casual wear like this, she made for a stunning appearance. The ash-blonde hair gently flowing down to her slim waist. The pointed ears and the beautiful, fine-featured face showing her heritage. Her green eyes examined the form in the mirror a few more times before they were hidden away behind a pair of orange-colored sunglasses.

Siren was ready to go.

-April 22nd 8:01 PM, Tacoma-
>Did you hear Glitterworld may be getting some exclusive content soon? They're gonna expand the Judges panel to get a few more Performance Profiles opened up. Kitt McClain may be coming on board!
>>Really? That sounds pretty wizzer. It'd be cool to have McClain talent-scouting the Action VRs that come in. If they got more Judges I might come back, I kinda lost interest in Glitterworld after CrimeTime left.
>Ha! You and CrimeTime. You've got such a man-crush!

Clef laughed and was about to hit with a comeback when he noticed the little minnow swimming up to him and depositing itself into the pouch on his left hip. A message, then; someone had sent a message to his comm. BRB, he told the crew on the Gaming SIG, and shifted his perceptions. Most of him was still attached to the grid but he needed part of his meatform to use the commlink and AR glasses properly. They were mere props for Clef, so his true form wasn't routed through them at all like the norms had to do.

He pushed the glasses up his nose to focus on the imagelink, and clumsily opened the message box (since being touched by the Resonance he'd reverted back to a beginner's understanding of these toys). He almost deleted it, not knowing who this "Fiona" was, but curiosity won out.

Then he read it again. And again.

What was this? Who was this woman and how did she hear about him? What did she mean, "a team," and "some work?" He was confused; the missive had him frightened for his privacy, a bit angry that he could be played like this, and... a bit excited. Was this that kind of work? Something a little more... active than prepping chips for delivery?

Only one way to find out, he decided.

--

-April 23rd 3:25 PM, Tacoma-
He'd left his bike in the Hez parking lot, figuring it was safer to bring the bus here. If this was a set-up and someone could ID his vehicle, they wouldn't see it in the neighborhood; plus at Hez it was safe from 'jackers. Clef stood across the street from Basil's, under the awning of a hot dog shack to keep out of the rainfall, his respirator unclasped and loose around his neck so he could eat the pork-flavored mycoprotein.

He kept his eye on the bar, wondering why some of the old-timers called the place "The Tower" even though it was clearly a one-floor operation. He chewed silently, trying to look out for anyone who might be surveilling him even though he was aware he had no idea what he was doing. He'd tried to keep an eye out for anyone who might be "Fiona" but quickly gave up--about half the people on the street qualified.

He finished the hot dog, wiped his mouth, and tossed his garbage into the can. Keeping his respirator undone, he checked both ways for traffic, crossed the street, and walked up to the doorman. The guy gave Clef the evil eye but let him through; his fake ID had held up once again. Giving the doorman a nod, Clef entered Basil's and tried to take a look around without appearing too bleeding obvious.

-April 23rd, 3:20 PM, Tacoma Seattle-
Big Train idles his bike and backs it into a spot down the street from Basil's. He liked getting places punctually, but not too early as to arouse suspicion. He was glad the meet was taking place away from his home neighborhood; it'd be embarrassing to have to sign an autograph before he tried to meet someone covertly for some work. And work he needed. He looked over his shoulder, making sure there weren't any suits looking for him. While he didn't want to be recognized, he felt a heck of a lot safer near home. Near people he could trust. Out here, it wasn't clear whose side people were on. All he knew was that he needed the 'yen, and the clock was ticking.
He tries his best to fit in as he crosses the street, but he's the type to stand out in a crowd. Nearly 6'4, his giant arms bulge under his nicest cheap suit. He pulls down on the sleeves, trying to hide the "Express" and "Local" tattoos running down his forearms. Those are the types of things people remember, he thought to himself. The doorman gives him a patdown, and Big Train makes a mental note that he needs to buy a gun. He enters Basil's a few minutes before the meet is supposed to start.

- April 23rd, 11:43 AM, Redmond, Seattle -

The barking became louder and louder inside Hickory's skull, forcing him to wake up. He really had to learn to switch that damn commlink off before going to bed. At least the agent had made a good job, and he was now waiving his tail while waiting for an answer: the message really looked important. Hickory gave him a virtual pat, the metaphor for dismissing him. He had always liked dogs.

"Word on the street"? Check. "Some work"? Check. "Get a team together"? Check. All the keywords were here, except one. "It's money I am looking for, not work!" But one did not come without the other in the sprawl, at least not to him. Now where was that joint? Hickory starting browsing his mind for the location. Or was it his commlink? Sometimes he had trouble telling. OK, looks like he could make it if going ASAP.

After getting dressed, he put on his gloves carefully: he had never been hot on showing off his Chrome, even more so since his job had been requiring discretion. He had a look for his trusted Thunderbolt, but finally left it on the shelf. Sometimes self-confidence is the best weapon. Just retrieve the armor jacket from the kitchen table, check for the emotitoy in the pocket and he was ready to go.

The drive was smooth, as always on those GridGuided roads except when one of those hacker punks decided to play a prank on the whole sprawl. After parking the car, Hickory performed a quick radar and chemical scan of the surroundings. No bomb, no ambush, the place looked safe. There was even a doorman checking guns. Hickory left his taser under the driver seat and stepped in.

Now where was that Fiona?

- April 23rd 10:47 AM, Redmond, Seattle -

Waking up was painful. His jaw felt like it was broken, though it probably wasn't. But the trolls fist had left a massive bruise that was turning into a sickly greenish-yellow. He probably sprained his right shoulder too, it hurt like a bitch. But what are you gonna do? Some people just need to be taught a lesson, and if that person happens to be a muscle-bound troll you have to expect to take a few while giving.
But at least the balance had been in his favor. The new stun baton, model AZ-150, had made good on it's promise to take down even the nastiest of trogs.

A quick glance at his commlink revealed 3 new messages. One was the obligatory spam and one came from Rick but the third looked interesting. He could always use a job. Maybe this was Mousy making good on her promise to send some work his way. He didn't know a Fiona but maybe Mousy reffered him to her. Couldn't hurt to check it out at least. But first a little more sleep.

Three hours later he woke up again. After a quick training session consisting of sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups and some more -ups, he took a quick shower and started preparing for the meeting.

The form-fitting body armor fit perfectly to his body, no surprise since Rick had had it made specifically for him. Tight-fitting boots, low-cut jeans and a white muscle-shirt under his black leather jacket should be sufficient for the occasion. He didn't posses anything fancy anyway.
He decided to go light today, which for him meant just the Predators in arm-pit halfters, one loaded with ex-explosive rounds, the other with stick-n-shock. The Vipers were left in their secured display case.
He shoved the shock gloves and an extendable baton in his pockets in case he didn't want to waste a bullet.

A quick glance in the mirror, once again admiring the flame tattoo covering the right side of his face, then he was out the door.


- April 23rd 3:26 PM, Tacoma, Seattle -

He parked his Suzuki Mirage in front of Basil's Faulty Bar, activated the security system and entered the establishment. Time to rock'n'roll he thought while scanning the room for his possible employer. This Fiona character didn't tell me what to look for.

Fiona's eyes scanned the bar as a few more "eccentric" people entered the building. She watched them with a gentle, calm smile. She flicked through AR picture profiles of those she was looking for. He contacts throughout the syndicates hadn't given her much, but it had been enough to put together a team. Though she was a little worried about a few of them. She'd have to wait and see how they played out.
As each entered the building she tossed a quick message towards them. This wasn't really her style, but she had to play this one a bit closer to the vest.

Hello Child. Please take a seat with me.

-Fiona

With a smile and a small wave of her hand towards each of them she called them over. He appearance was a mix of Asian and probably Irish based on first glance. She had tan skin, that had subtle age lines, but still held her beauty quite well. Her fiery red hair was pinned up with a pair of chopsticks and her eyes were most definitely an obvious example of her mixed heritage as they were almond shaped as well as bright green. Her ears were pierced with thin golden hoops and she wore a pair of glasses atop her pointed nose.

Hickory nodded to the woman as he received the message, then moved towards her, only stopping at the bar to order his soybeer. This would buy him a few seconds for observation. Corpo? She sure had the look, but it did not feel natural on her. Those red hair, maybe the mob? And her Asian side, Japanese? Chinese? Korean? Hard to tell on mixed kids.

But there would be time for that later. Others were already closing in. A couple of orks (looks like we won't be short on muscle this time), an elf punk with a face tattoo (I just hope he's not on drugs) and an elf chick. He realized he was the only human, except Fiona Johnson of course. That would have made him smile, but he knew most metas don't have much choice to make nuyen.

Good afternon madam (nods to the other runners too). Are we still expecting somebody?

Clef got the message and saw the redhead gesturing. Oh wow, he thought. That's Fiona? Some decidedly non-professional thoughts struck him, which he tried to wave away. "Focus, focus," he muttered to himself, and approached the table. He gives Fiona a nervous smile, and returns the human's nod. "Uh, hey."

- April 23rd 3:27pm, Tacoma, Seattle -

Siren would have taken her bike, if not for the rain. Why was it always raining? She liked riding her bike, but not in the rain. As the clock raced towards the time of the meeting, the elf raced towards the destination and towards a nearby parking space. Leaving her stylish, snow-white SUV, she quickly entered the bar, after the obligatory check for weapons at the entrance; she was usually checked thoroughly. Of course, she had none. She didn't even own a gun. Much less know how to use one. She never needed one. Her mentor had teached her what to do in situations, where people tend to pull guns. She was always glad, when she could avoid such situations, but it wasn't always possible. Maybe such a situation would come soon. The work she was here for was the kind, that led into these situations more often than not.

As she stepped through the door, a message popped up in her display. She couldn't access AR without her trodes, but her glasses had an overlay, that worked well enough, at least for basic information like this. Looking around, she quickly identified the woman, that could only be Fiona. Now to find out what she was up to.

Putting up the professional smile, she had a lot of practice with, the beautiful elf walked up to the table, hiding her own insecurity behind her good looks and pretending to be all pro.

"Hi, I'm Siren. Do we expect anyone else?"

She exchanged some looks with the others that were already present, wondering what kind of people they were.

Holy Shit. Who would have thought that the boss would be this hot. But what's with the 'Child' thing? Do I look like a kid or what?
He moved to her table and gave the asian-irish woman a quick bow.
"Nice to meet you Miss Fiona. I'm Fury, as you certainly already know."
If she indicated it he would take a seat.

The other runners got a short nod except for Siren on whom his gaze lingered a while longer before he gave her a blink with one eye. Wow. I think she's even better-looking than Fiona. It's getting hotter by the second here. Who thought you could meet so many beautiful woman in the shadows?

She waved her hand in a simple, graceful gesture for them to sit. Her eyes scanned them, but they looked clam, relaxed. She smiled a little folded her hand on top of one another on the table. She was sure these were these were the people she was looking for, they should be perfect.

"A pleasure to meet each of you. I am Fiona. I do believe we are awaiting one more guest. Once he arrives, we can begin to conduct business."

Her voice was as calm and serene as her appearance, and she seemed to make eye contact with everyone as she spoke. Her posture was formal, but relaxed, showing off her thin form and the arch of her back. Under her left ear a small amount of chrome gleamed, probably a datajack.

The group got a couple of odd looks from patrons at the bar, but quickly shifted their vision away when they were spotted. The only oddity was the barkeep had yet to take his eyes off of the table and the group. He was a well muscled human, and he wore an obvious shoulder rig with a large revolver mounted in it. He wasn't giving a hostile vibe, but a wary one, unsure what the group was here to do.

As they were sitting down, Hickory scanned the party for cyberware and weapons. They were all surprisingly unaugmented. Was he sitting with the lowest of the sprawl, or with some kind of freak show? Not that he could criticize: he too was a freak in his own way. The idea that his radar could have failed him did not even cross his mind, and they did not look like the kind to afford alphaware.

The flame elf had brought 2 guns to the meeting, and Hickory wondered how the doorman had let them through. Looked like the kind of guy to lose his cool during action. Would have to keep an eye on him.

Chemical scan: the air was saturated with male pheromons. At least the kids are healthy. Hope they have half as much brains as balls...

After the others had already joined Fiona, Big Train moved from the bar over to the table. Not one much for words, he grunted a "Hello" directed at Fiona, and crossed his arms waiting for her to proceed with the remainder of the meeting. Not sure what to make of the motley crew he was sitting with; Big Train was pretty sure this wasn't one of the standard muscle jobs he was usually hired for. He affected disinterest, but he was curious what the Johnson was going to propose.

While they exchanged greetings and waited for the last ‘guest’ to arrive, Siren shifted her vision from the mundane world to the astral, as she gave Fiona a closer look. It was mostly curiosity and half reflex, but it was always a good way to discern what she was up to.

He considered small talk, but Clef figured that if all of these guys were going to clam up while they waited, he would too. He tried to be cool and impassive, looking from Fiona (who was hot) to Hickory (who was intimidatingly metallic) to Fury (who was bigger than Clef for crying out loud) to the suited Big Train (if he flexes those biceps that fabric's gonna rip) to Siren (who was hot), and then back again.
He felt absolutely, unquestionably, out of place and outclassed.

Devin "Big D" Delarosa rolls out of bed at 2:45, checking his comm for the first time in a few days, the shadows had been kind as of late. The message displays through his cybereyes, cursing a hard night of partying with half a case of Jack Daniels, Devin made for the shower, rinsing the smell of last night.

The drive from Redmond to Tacoma had been a decent one, not fighting after work traffic. Five minutes after the start of the meet, Devin breezes through the front do before approaching the bartender about Mrs. Johnson's party.

This is so not they way to being a professional relationship

I'm sorry I'm late, I was detained be the results of poor personal choices. Turning towards Fiona, Ma'am if you want to please deduct a reasonable percentage from my share, to make up for the delay I have caused.

Hickory scanned the newcomer as the others. He too was not sporting any ware. This was getting weirder and weirder.

Fiona's astral aura was perfectly clean and calm, save the datajack located under her left ear. Her aura was perfectly calm, uncannily similar to her facial expression. She smiled to "Big D" has he arrived, her expression quaint and formal as she gestured for him to take a seat.

"It's quite alright Big D. Please join us so we may discuss all of our future... relationships."

Once Big D took a seat she scanned over them all once more, like a sergeant inspecting her recruits. But she still had the same calm smile that seemed natural face. She nodded once as she finished her gaze. She was sure these prospects would work out.

"Thank you for joining me today. I've called you hear today for a multitude of reasons. I believe your skills and abilities could be very useful assets. You each have individual skills that make you needed for this team and though I do believe you're all unknown to each other, you're connected to very similar people in one way or another, or have been in the past. Should you accept my offer, you may come at ends with powerful people and I wouldn't lie to you on this. But I also believe you're all smart enough to keep your heads out of the fire. Would you hear my offer?"

"Certainly, Miss Fiona. Please go ahead."

Fury leant back in his chair in a relaxed pose to hide his growing excitement. His interest was piqued, all this build-up indicated something bigger than his usual jobs.

Big Train gives a short nod to Fiona, indicating to her to continue.

"Man, I feel like a jackass in this suit now.." he thought to himself, looking over the others at the table in their hip casual wear. He also wondered what "skills and abilities" they all possessed that brought them to this meeting, or even what his skills were, from whoever told Fiona about him...

"Yes, I would like to hear more," Siren says in agreement. Of course she would, this was the very reason, why she was here.

Thinking about how low his cred balance was becoming, Big D voiced, I'm also interested in hearing what you need done.

Well, everybody else was at least interested; Clef wasn't going to be the lone stand-out. Besides which, he was curious. "Yeah, let's hear it," he said, reaching up to scratch one of the studs in his ear.

As she said "connected", Hickory started browsing through his acquaitances. He considered the 3 orks sitting at the table. Could it be Axe? The guy had his commcode, and it did not look like him to hire midlemen: he liked to take matters in his own hands (usually to crush them). Hickory was lost in his thoughts when he realised Fiona was expecting an answer.

"Well, the beer alone was not worth the visit, so I'd rather listen to the whole story as well."

"Good. As you may have heard, a war is brewing among the streets of Seattle. Recently two capos of Ciarniello Family have been kidnapped. Don Vince Ciarnello believes that it was the Yakuza, whom he's been butting heads with for the last few years. His blood vendetta has got the Yakuza on edge, ready to open fire at any white in a suit."

Her voice got quiet as she leaned in closer to the table, trying to avoid any mundane eavesdroppers. Last thing she needed was someone ratting them out before this all got started. She glanced back and forth around the bar; satisfied that none of the patrons were paying any attention, she continued.

"But now for what you probably don't know. In the last three days both the Triads and the Vory has begun to mobilize people and resources. Bringing in new people, weapons, the works. Now if this turns into a full scale syndicate war, nobody will be able to stop it. But we're not looking to stop it, that would be a waste of possible assets. We want to exploit it, turn the war to advantage of us in the shadows and reign in the profits."

Fury listened to Fiona's explanations. When she stops he gives her an inquiring look, wondering what exactly she expected from the group.

And who exactly is this 'us' she's talking about.

Hickory whistled. Playing 4 main syndicates at the same time? That was big! The exposition had left only one player strangely aside: the Koreans. Could they be the ones pulling the strings? Or a new face, maybe? Fiona could also have made her own employer part of the setting to fool her audience; she was a Johnson after all. Hickory could not help being thrilled, only worrying he might have to get his hands a bit more dirty than usual. The pay should not be bad either, which never hurt.

"That is a huge picture you are portraying, madam. How do we get to fit in?"

"I have to agree. This sounds like dangerous times are coming. I would also agree, that we need to know more, now that you have piqued our interest."

Siren didn't yet know what to make of it. She could certainly see the opportunities, Fiona was talking about. But the players in this game of syndicate war, which truly wasn't a game at all, were dangerous people. It was never good to get them on your bad side, much less several of them.

Seeing their interests piqued a smile spread across her face a bit wider and her arms crossed her chest, in more of a proud gesture than protective. The hanging light above the bar table swung a little on a creaky chain and it seemed that the bar was silent, save the sound of the door opening. Two middle age men dressed in suits stepped in and grabbed a table on the other side of the bar ordering from the waitress and talking casually. Fiona's gaze darted to the door and followed the men until they were seated, but she relaxed a moment later. After a few seconds of tense silence she spoke...

"I'm quite glad to hear you are still interested. Please do not be put off when I say that you must be a little crazy to still want to be involved. But that is exactly what I need. With the oncoming chaos there will be many opportunities to use the fire as cover for operations. I posses contacts within all of the conflicting organizations, which at first seemed like a headache. But I came to realize with the right people on my side, we could turn this to our advantage. IF you agree, I will act as your agent to the syndicates. They will be in need of tasks that would be 'shameful' or 'dishonorable' for their own men to do. That's where you all come in. I'll get the jobs from my contacts, and you execute them. Simple as that."

As she explained the basics of the relationship, she watched each of their eyes carefully. She needed to know something about each of them and she knew they weren't going to say them, they were going to have some kind of a physical reaction, and that's what she was looking for. She leaned back against the seat, her arms still folded as her emerald eyes watched them, waiting.

"So you will be in charge of negociating our pay? I have to warn you: I don't work cheap."

Seeing Fiona worrying about the newcomers, Hickory scanned them too.

"And have you already found some work to do, or do we go back home for now and wait for your call?"

Big Train leans forward and speaks for the first time of the meeting.

"That all sounds well and good. Playing the various syndicates off of each other, netting a decent profit in the meantime. The problem is, what assurances can you give us of our safety if you get pinched? I'm worried you aren't as clever as you make out to be. And if you aren't, we're the ones who are going to suffer for it. Don't get me wrong; I'm still interested. But I need to know how this is going to work. While you may be comfortable keeping us in the dark, I'd like to know a little bit more what your grand scheme is, in case things go completely to hell."

He leans back, nervously pulling down the sleeves of his jacket.

"Frankly, working for one syndicate against another one would feel safer. Then, you'd know who to look out for. What you're proposing is that we make enemies in each of the biggest crime families in the city, at the same time. I need cred badly, so I hope your scheme has big profits to go with all the risk."

Once Fiona starts outlining what "the work" would entail, Clef's eyes go wide, but he quickly tries to cover it up. Everyone else seems nonchalant; clearly they're professionals at this, and he'd better appear to be the same. He's only half-listening to the things said, though; his suspicions were right: Fiona was offering shadow work. He was being hired for a shadowrun. Just like on the trid!

He reached up, nervously scratching his nose and tugging at his septum ring, softly. It sounded like she was talking about some sort of war between crime organizations. And if he decided to be part of this, he was going to be right in the middle... he couldn't believe he was here, or how well everyone else seemed to be taking it.

Clef closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steel himself. Well... let's see what she says about the money...

Playing all sides in a syndicate war. The woman was right, crazy was the word for it. What little was left of his common sense screamed at him to walk away. But Fury was here to make himself a name in the shadows as much as for the big money. Here was a chance for both. And people had told him he was crazy all his life anyway.

"That's a high stakes game you're proposing. I hope the reward will match the risk. If it does, I could be convinced. Aren't we all a little crazy after all." He smiled when speaking the last words.

Then he leaned forward in his chair, his body tense, focusing his deep blue eyes on Fiona.
"But as my big orkish friend here mentioned, this needs to be a thought out operation. I'm willing to take risks, even high risks for the right pay, but suicide is not my style."

After speaking his mind Fury relaxed again, slumping back in his chair.

Big D fights the urge to let his ganger bravado out of its little box.

Given that we're about to set out to hurt the feelings and profits of organizations that have long memories and hold very deep grudges, I agree that we'll need solid planning and a large cut of the pie.

After letting his words hang for a few minutes, he remarks, "What do you have in mind?" with a big toothy grin.

Siren echoes what the others have already said.

"Indeed. Suicide isn't very high on my list of things I want to try, actually it's not on the list at all. Risks are fine, we wouldn't be here, if we weren't aware of that, as long as the rewards make up for it."

She watched them with a careful eye and nodded in response to each of their replies. That was exactly what she needed, they were capable and more importantly, smart. She leaned back, into the posture of confidence that most Johnson's had when they were laying out the details for a job. He poise was relaxed but business and she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh I assure you the pay shall be worth the benefits. The families and organizations pay those they believe their own can't handle very well. But what the real trick shall be, is that none of my connections will be knowing that my loyalty and by extensions, yours lies with no single person. The last thing any I want is to be sucked into any one syndicate, hence us playing the field. I have a job lined up as of right now. Still interested?"

Big Train shrugs. "Sure, why not? I'm not doing anything else this week." He lets out a big toothy grin and looks at the other people at the table, seeing who he'll end up working with.

Listening to the others' defiance felt like looking at a distorting mirror. Hickory knew they were right to sense danger ahead, yet somehow he could not feel it himself. This was not mere confidence or even recklessness either: he had never been a risk craver. Fiona's next quetion diverted him from grimmer thoughts. He managed to smile while answering:

"Came here for a job. Looks like I have found it."

Siren nods her acknowledgement.

"It's time to get down to the facts."

Fury just keeps looking at Fiona, waiting for her to get to the important part.

Trying to play it cool, Clef nods his head in assent with the others. "Sure. Let's hear the details, miss."

"Four days ago, someone robbed The Octagon. The Octagon isn't happy about it and even though they've caught the original thief they haven't gotten back what was stolen. He sold it to Jason Newhart, a council representative for Tacoma. He's been known for a rather zealous crusade against the organized crime here in Tacoma. The specs for the job are vague, but they want their property back and any copies destroyed. It should be a large black tome, with silver flashing. There isn't a set time limit, but they want it back before he gets a chance to release it's contents."

She finished talking and leaned back against the booth with a confident smile and a curious look in her eyes as she watched them.

Clef sat back in his chair, as though taking in the others and their reactions; but really he was shifting his attention, away from the meat in front of him to touch the electric world that existed in the ether. He reached out, past all of the static drifting by--phone calls and spambots mostly--and called out in his mind, Finder.
Within moments a form pulled itself from the Resonance. As long as his pinky finger, it was a small worm, bright green and white light stitched together. The worm coalesced from the table they sat at, and crawled forward until it was perched upon Clef's hand. It buzzed slightly--a request for more information.
A public datanet search, Clef told it. A criminal group in Tacoma called "The Octagon," and a Tacoma councilman named Jason Newhart. Find what you can and bring it to me. The worm buzzed again in acceptance, coiled itself like a striking snake, and leapt from his hand to join the datastream. Clef focused again on meatspace, hoping it would return soon, and wondering what the others would have to say about this.

"How much are they paying us for that? This is not mere burglary they are asking for: we will probably have to rough him up a bit to make sure he gives away all the copies. And what the heck are they still using paper for?"

"A black tome with silver? Sounds like some magic book thing. Is this councilman a spellslinger?"

Fury didn't like magic. People told him he was magical himself, but that was different. He just was faster and more precise than normal. He didn't throw fireballs or read minds like those mojo types.

"Also, what is the pay? After all we're going up against a well-connected politician."

"Interesting. Not exactly easy, but if it was, there would be no need for people like us. It sounds like a good first to see how well we can work together and to test our integrity. As for roughing him up... I might have some different methods to offer, that might even be a bit more... let's call it... convincing. But I suppose we will discuss that later. Anyways, I'm in, as long as the payment is sufficiently convincing as well," Siren explains with a wink.

"Seven thousand each. Plus if you may come into any expenses to accomplish your mission, I may be able to get a percentage of that back for you as well."

She watched them as she spoke, trying to feel how much they were looking to get before they said anything. He smile still held where you could make out one small dimple along the left side of her lips, reminiscent of her youth, though it had faded significantly in the last decade.

7000? That was sure enough to pay the rent and keep some aside. Taking on a city official would not come without risk, though. They would have to be real shadows this time. And Fiona had carefully dodged the second question.

"How about the book? If there is magic involved, I, and I believe everyone else around this table, would rather know beforehand."

Siren thought about negotiating, but this woman was a pro in negotiation, that much was clear. Her feminine charms wouldn't help much, either, most likely. And the payment offered seemed fair enough. She decided to agree to the payment with just a subtle hint of discontent. You never should make it too easy for them.

"Not bad for a start."