@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:29:23; Everett, Bond St]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

As the gnome/dwarf denies having seen Jessica, Adrian sighs again. Did you really think it'd be that easy?

A good time; err, well, you see, that's not what...; I mean I'm not here to..." Wait, that look in her eyes and a comment about bad memory. Isn't that a combination I've seen before? The Trid? So she knows something but wants money?

err, I'm not looking for "fun". Too bad about your memory. Wonder if there ain't some sort of medication for that...

So, how much to offer? Isn't it always some multiple of 50?

Ordering his comm to prepare a transfer over 50 , Adrian continues Of course that doesn't come for free. Please accept this humble contribution. In AR, a closed white envelope appears on the counter in front of the gnome/dwarf.

In the shows, that's when people tend to regain their memories. I wonder what happens in real life?

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:31:45; Everett, Bond St]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

The dwarf, definitely a dwarf, quickly scoops the envelope out of the AR with her NeoNet X54 gloves where on earth did this lady afford those gloves?! and tosses a very questionable looking soydog with all the fixins, in this case algaekraut, tobasco and something resembling onions, though they looked like pieces of use rubbers more than the vegetable in question onto the counter with a mess of newspaper as a napkin. "Thank you, my medication has been hard to find lately... I've a need for time, wish I could get some time omae... Oh and you want to find street walkers that never come back you check in with Doc Bailey over there." Motioning vaguely towards the hospital the dwarf turns her attention to the aging trid which sputters to life with commentary from an Urban Brawl game. "You see the Screamers this year have been doing fairly well, though no-one knows if they will be able to pull through to the World Cup with the loss of their Starting Outrider, James "SkullShack" Kurtz, to the unexpected ghoul population on Vashon Island last month... Is he really dead!? More on his possible whereabouts after the break!"

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:33:19; Everett, Bond St]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Not what I've asked for. But maybe what I need to know?

Adrian bows slightly, takes his soydog and walks over to Saint. I'm not sure, whether she's seen Jessica or not; she wanted to share, however, that Doc Bailey at the hospital is the one to talk to if you want to find street walkers that never come back. That fits. Think we should pay that guy a visit?

He looks at the soydog in his hand, shrugs and starts to eat. Buddhist walks to a soydog stand, says "Make me one with everything"
With a smile the food doesn't warrant, Adrian takes another bite.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:33:35; Everett, Bond St]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

As the joke fades from his mind and is replaced by how terrible the taste, if it could be called that, assaults the remains of his palate Adrian realizes that he might have received more information than he thought at first glance, after all, not that many legit newspapers still put out old-school dead trees anymore. Something about the paper intrigues him. besides the fact that hes real, there is a pic that lies half covered in the questionable sauce that had been slathered over the soydog.... a pic of Jessica standing about where Adrian had moments ago with a very vacant expression on her face.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:33:53; Everett, Bond St]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Now that IS interesting.
Adrian uses the next availble flat surface, the wall of the house he and Saint are standing by, to flatten the newspaper page and tries to wipe away the remainder of the sauce without destroying too much of the texts and pictures on it. Hey Saint, look at this. It's a picture of her standing over there.
Let's see what she did here.
He closely examines the page.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:35:16; Everett, Bond St.]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

She looked over to the old vendor, she had thought the hag was too old not to know what shook on the street level, considering the ease with which she freely used 'slitch' to describe the woman. It carried the weight of familiarity.

"Light illuminates our path," she said with a smile, it soon gave way to determined focus as she verified the picture, "you're a natural John."

She took a quick snap of it with her eye recorder, skimming the rest of the readable text associated with the picture.

"So she had been moon-lighting in the area, and what you said about 'missing street walkers', it would suggest multiple occasions. Jessica wouldn't be missed for at least another hour or three if she had a pimp. What kind of insurance policy does this "Doc Bailey" offer?" She paused after her rhetoric a moment to work the angles, "I'm game if you are."

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:36;00 Everett, Bond St]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Heh, someone I know would say I'm a good distance away from any illuminated path.

Sure, let's go and see the good doctor.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:36:08; Everett, Bond St.]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

"Lead on, Detective," she said, as one side of her lips curled upward. "You're the one with the directions."

@Fortune's Forecast (Adrian/Saint)
[April 17th, 2072, 00:36:08; Everett, Bond St.]

Adrian took the lead somewhat uncertainly as images of the crime fighting trids he had watched flickered through his head, I really should have never opened my mouth! Why am I poking my head in places I don't belong? Let the KE boys do it...Omg I'm looking for the person who installed a BOMB in my fares head.... He crossed the street and started walking past the myriad points of interest catering to the vices of sailors home from exercises, the bunraku parlor, the various gambling dens and clubs and all the vermin that went with it.

Adrian and Saint slowly covered their way down Gedney street, narrowly dodging the pimps and BTL dealers who kept popping out of the shadows to offer them a "life-changing alternative". Saint felt quite familiar in a terrorized sort of way with the action of the streets; while the young cab driver dodged the street people with the air of one in a hazardous containment area, Saint dodged them because she knew what went on in these back alleys, these wolves would tear you down and sell you off soon as look at you...

Finally they arrive at the edge of the dilapidated and understaffed Everett Medical center, once run by charities of the more reputable sort this was now rumored to be a Human Nation stronghold, or at least one of the various charitable groups with questionable leanings, but noone had been able to prove anything and thus the city had never shut it down. Beyond that the level of care offered was inconsistent, ranging from top of the line, to those who could pay, to bargain counter for those who could not, but at least the basics were free.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:36;12 Everett, walking along Gedney Street]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Oh, certainly. If you'd be so kind as to direct your steps in this direction...
Directions I have; a plan I have not. Not getting a bomb put into anybody's head might be a good start...
...
No, sir, I don't...[color]
[color="red"]So, what exactly do we wanna know? And how do we get him to tell us that?

Adrian writes a list and sends it to his colleague.

<<from:John to:Saint>
So, I guess we'd like to know
if Bailey has seen Jessica
what their connection is
what she was doing tonight

anything else?
what should we tell him when he wants to know why we ask?
>

This last question still occupies Adrian's mind as he and Saint reach the medical centre.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:36:34; Everett, Bond St.]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

She realized, having her subvocal mic would be useful, but she'd left it at home. She waited until she could spare some of her attention toward responding, as they had a difficult enough time avoiding grifters and dealers.

<<@John: A lot of people act like they're not in the know, it's as simple as small talk. If you ask about something you already know, you can test a person's ability to lie or their willingness to tell the truth. If you ask about a person you'll get a hesitant answer, if you ask FOR the person it'll seem social. And don't let anyone tell you different, it's all about the business. If you keep things related to a person's business you're likely to keep things civil. Never ask a street doc about explosives, it sends the wrong signals. [Saint]>>

After she whipped up the message, the rest she left to normal conversation.

"It's easy. We know she's a street walker, we know she had money to spend on the operation, and we know she got it done for the express purpose of keeping her secrets safe. Work with what you know."

She was about to take a step up toward the medical center, her foot moving back to the same position as she had thought of one more thing.

"Oh, and I'm not calling you John, your new name is 'Sport,' and you might be getting some chrome tonight, or similar fair, as your initiation prize." She smiled cutely, as if intentionally to ward off any harsh responses.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 21:12:32 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]

Jack quickly whisked down the passage to the dog leg hallway and, careful to not disturb any of the laundry I REALLY hope there aren't ak-98s in here... or come to think of it do I ? and knocked on the closet door as politely as his frayed nerves could manage.


The door creaked open and alina, now in a hideous floral print aprin, a nighty and pink elephant slippers smiled broadly through her missing teeth, "Oh Jack my boy you got my laundry, Большое вам спасибо, вы сохранили эту старушку так много лишений сегодня. Где мой боеприпасы? 6 случаев да?" Not understanding a word of her quickfire spiel of Russian, Jack nodded enthusiastically, gleaning that she was happy with him but beyond that not catching one iota of meaning.


She looked at him in a quisitive manner and, seeing that he hadn't caught one word of the little spiel said, "мусор! Why is my Alexi never sending me good Russian boys to train?! Always with these English only pindos... I need you to get my ammunition so we can train boy!" Two seconds later she slammed the door in Jack's face, promptly dismissing him for the second time in a very short span of time.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:41;55 Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Hmm, ask what we already know, ask FOR her and talk about biz, biz and biz. Sounds easy enough.

At the mention of chrome, Adrian raises an eyebrow. Sport? Why not. I wouldn't bet on the chrome, though.

Adding softly Not ever, he walks over the street to the medical center and goes in,

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:42:13; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

She perked up at acceptance of his new nickname, smiling with a purer humor this time. His direct refusal of implants had her confused though, and racing to think up alternatives in case it came to a discussion with Doc Bailey.

"What? I was thinking something like a datajack, nothing too invasive. I don't imagine your bosses much care if you're 100 percent sirloin, so what's gnawing on you?"

She focused on some new potential topics, but her eye kept bothering her. It distracted her from the conversation enough to hardly register the possibilities as to why he might not want 'ware.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:42;37 Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Oh, they certainly won't care if I let myself be defiled that way.

Quite the contrary. "A pilot and no control rig? What's your damage? Your so-called gift is useless anyway!"

For me it's not an option. Might as well chop my own head off...

Balefire / Silk
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

Silk paused for a moment to savour the weak spring sunlight on her face and the fresh breeze blowing off the lake. On a more prosaic note that breeze through the willow trees and the waves added a natural white noise to their meet. Just some strollers out enjoying the day…there was something to be said for discussing clandestine things in plain sight…

Bale was relaxing on the nearby bench with a forgotten cigarette dangling from his hand. Tall, he was nowhere near as rangy as the elf beside him, solid and disconcertingly alike his dead brother. His goatee was fading to grey and he had wrinkles at the corner of his eyes that spoke more about the strains of channelling mana than his actual age. Despite that he was more physically powerful than the typical image of a spellslinger fresh from his ivory tower. His posture said that he was relaxed but the tell-tales were there for those that knew to look. His eyes roved the approaches to the meet and he was poised for trouble.

Requiem on the other hand looked like he was spaced out as he dove through whatever virtual world had grabbed his attention. Only the flicker in the corner of her vision told Silk that he was accessing the tactical feeds and was as aware of the local area as it was possible for technology to make it. He was lean to Bale’s stockiness and apparently youthful. Only the tick in his cheek belied this, his antique ware was as likely to screw him as anything else but he was deadly and she trusted him – perhaps more important than being cutting edge!

That just left Sirene and she knew that she wouldn’t see her until their final member arrived. She was around somewhere though, the unusual bond that they had formed told her that. She still wasn’t sure why she had been chosen for the honour but she was grateful to be able to share her experiences with the newly born spirit. Although she had some bitter memories she had many more that were good and Sirene had helped her to realise this.

<<How's it jazzin'. I like sports. I'm in, drop me the hizzi on the izzo.>> Who was this guy? Guess they’d find out in a bit, he’d agreed to meet them here shortly. Aria had recommended him so his reputation must be worth the time to meet him. The shadows attracted all sorts but if they were going to resurrect Balefire then they were damn well going to make it as professional an outfit as the original had been. If Fractal couldn’t fit that mould then they would have to look again. At least this meeting would let Sirene meet Requiem, she had a feeling that Bale was already familiar to her…

Balefire / Bale
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

He glanced at Silk as she stood restlessly beneath the willow trees. She looked young enough to be his daughter but he had no doubt that she was capable of this. Balefire had been his brother’s baby but he had a feeling that he would bow to Silk on this one. She didn’t have the military training that he or Requiem had but the shadows were in her blood and that lack of training might actually be an advantage as she wasn’t bound by the same preconceptions.

They were just waiting for this hacker to appear and hopefully the team would be off the ground. He had some ideas for a training exercise or two to gel them together and then it would be time to find a real run to test their mettle.

Balefire / Requiem
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

He analysed every sound and sight that the tactical feeds could give him. Chemical analysers tasted the air and he even had a tremor sensor under the bench, even though the nature of their surroundings made it largely useless. He approved of Silk’s choice for a meeting location. The angles of approach were open whilst still providing sufficient cover if they had to beat a hasty retreat. Hopefully this hacker would be able to free him up from the tasking of negotiating the tacnet…although these software packages were supposed to be more or less autonomous he still wasn’t prepared to trust his safety solely to a program without a human mind looking on!

The clear air made a refreshing change from the stink of Touristville…if this group proved that it could work well together it offered an opportunity for moving on. He had worked with the odd team here and there but never built up a trusting relationship that would enable him to give his best without constantly watching his back.

Balefire / Sirene
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

She watched from the astral plane as the group came together. She could taste the tension and discomfort between Bale and Silk and there were also undertones between her and Requiem. Whilst she was still coming to understand the complexities of metahuman interactions this group dynamic was interesting to say the least!

This hacker that they were to meet was an unknown. The thought of immersing herself in a false world of lights and deception was alien but she had seen enough in Silk’s mind to understand the intoxicating allure of that place.
…and perhaps this was him now…

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

Fractal approached the meeting place carefully. Already, he was scanning the area for listening devices and active matrix connections. For today's encounter he had chosen a much more respectable outfit. It had been a bit harder to pull off, but he felt gave the right look.

What approached Silk, was so far on the Trend meter, as to be almost a caricature. A young male elf, wearing today's latest trends in business casual. Eyes of pure onyx reflected back upon the viewer, long platinum hair, and thin facial expressions. "Might you have a light handsome?" He asked, in Sperethiel. Silk's commlink message light sprang up at the exact same time.

<<A pleasure. Name's Fractal. Whose the goon squad?>>

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:42:58; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

He had dodged the question, so it must've been significant enough to warrant such a disparity in view from her own opinion on their uses. She had her own secrets, and would've been equally reluctant to go into detail about such things. Saint's attention was too centered to bother probing him about it anyway, the answer to her other mental queries had been in plain sight, so to speak, the whole time.

"Got it, cybernetically-induced allergy, it's not too uncommon. Don't sweat it omae, what better excuse to fix my eye twitch? That's our in, and you're here as my back-up in case he decides to do nasty things to me if I'm under the blankets*. It should be easy to ask him questions while I'm there for a routine check-up, and that gives us the biz angle. I love routine, that's when people hit the auto-pilot button." She rambled, obviously psyched about the encounter. She did settle down to make some priorities before continuing toward the entrance to the clinic.

"Just remember, Jessica 'is' a friend of MINE, she recommended me to Doc Bailey because of his knowledge in implantation and upkeep. Either way, you won't have to come up with anything on the spot. We need the next clue, but more important, we're supposed to be some random concerned 'friends', and I mean that loosely. She didn't exactly extol the virtues of sainthood before she died. This woman was a bottom-feeder, no doubt the doc will think the same as, or of, us. Ham up a cram addiction and you should fit right in; I still can't wash off the look of a street walker, so I'm all kinds of set."

*Read: Under sedation.

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

The young woman you take to be Silk eyes you with caution…She shrugs at you in response to your verbal query “Sorry, didn’t get that…” whilst simultaneously responding to the matrix communique <<Welcome to the sports club! This is Bale and Requiem…>> two street résumés accompany the text. “We’re reasonably secure here, precautions have been taken to minimise the possibility of eaves dropping…and who would want to listen in? We’re just meeting by the lake for a spot of nature spotting and for a rare glimpse of the sun…”

The group are studying you intently, taking your measure. They all hold themselves with poise and their slow cautious movements bely their potential lethality. They are an interesting mix, from the slight form of Silk, the robust form of the combat mage Bale and the whipcord build of the elf samurai Requiem…and then another young lady steps out of the lake…for a slightly delusional moment it looks like she is naked, then you see that she is wearing a thin summer dress and somehow appears to be dry despite her recent immersion.

“And this is Sirene…” there is a smile in Silk’s voice. “As a gesture of trust here is the link to our tactical network. You can check it yourself to make sure you are satisfied that we can talk. I would prefer to discuss this here rather than allow any electronic eavesdropping on our comms. We are putting together a team with the intention of forming a professional outfit that can pick and choose the types of run that we want to undertake. I know it sounds idealistic but we have the backing of a good fixer and the skills to be successful. Hopefully you will agree to work with us for an even split of the profits? We need someone to monitor comms and the tac feed and handle any electronic impediments to our goals. Are you interested?”

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

Fractal runs some diagnostics on the TacNet, before attaching it to a jailed portion of his commlink, for now. "Ambitious goals. Aria did not mention this was.. a career interview." Fractal shakes his head, "I admit, a long term mutually beneficial engagement would be welcome." He considers, "Professional jobs, usually have professional costs."

Internally, Fractal is already building dossiers on each of the team members. Most of them have huge gaping holes, for now, but that can be fixed.

"Knowing Aria, she has not bothered to explain my skill set." This is said, not as a question, but a statement of fact. "I'm interested, although in me, you'll get more than just a digital babysitter. Though I do that job well. So, lets talk tofurkey."

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:43;00 Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Okay, think, I've got the script. As for that addiction...

Didn't know I should have taken acting lessons before getting behind that wheel.

Adrian looks around, scoops up some dirt and smears it onto his trousers and jacket.

Think I'll pass if I fidget a bit?

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:43:13; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

Saint critiques his work, not having the heart to tell him exactly how much she actually knew about cram addicts. She moves closer to him, invading his personal space, putting her cold hands on the exposed flesh of his face.

"It'll have to do, there is one other universal thing about them is quite standard, besides the fidgeting. We'll have to wait until we're ready to visit him, and I apologize ahead of time for it. Other than that, I think we're as ready as we can be. When you fidget, think about someone trying to tickle you at random spots on your body, especially the neck, shoulders, waist and back. I'll let you know if you're over-doing it." She cupped his face in her hands, even though she was shorter than him, giving him a small reassuring slap on the cheek.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:43;13 Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Apologize? Do I even want to know?

Ok, just imagine she's tickling... errr someone, someone, is tickling you. Just focuouch!

Surprised rather than actually hurt, Adrian takes a step back.

So, we're going in or what?

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:43:21; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

"Sounds good, hopefully they have a reception desk somewhere in here." She let her hands fall to her sides when he stepped back, at least it would give his mind something else to think about, rather than getting wrapped up in whether his acting abilities were believable.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:44;00 Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Well, there's an easy way to... Adrian twitches ...to find out.

He walks to the entrance, opens it and waits for Saint to walk through. After you.

I wonder what a Sunday night looks like here.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:44:11; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

"How thoughtful! A gentleman drug-user, who would've thought? My faith in the world is restored!"

Her over-the-top use of mock surprise complemented the irony in its entirety. Snickering at the whole state of things, she entered the building with a smile that quickly turned airy and conceited. If only she had the bubble gum to complete the self-absorbed ensemble.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:44;42 Everett, just inside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Adrian returns the fake smile and follows Saint inside.

Pleased to be of service.

His smile quickly fades as he takes in the scene before them. A long, wide room badly illuminated in some spots - replacing broken light panels seems to be low priority - with walls that once might have been painted a light green; now they are a dirty green in some areas, a dark gray in others and part of one wall must have been blown away - there's a slab of plasteel covering a hole. In the middle of this there are about 40 people coughing, sneezing, wailing, yelling, talking, sleeping. While some of the kids are running around, most of the adults are sitting on the three long benches that take up most of what must be a waiting area. And indeed, in the far right corner there seems to be a reception desk. At the moment there is a commotion in front of it. At its centre, a young man with a knife in his back yelling Get your dirty hands off me! That's nothing! They shotgunned my kid brother and he didn't need no shitty wheelchair neither!

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:44;42 Everett, just inside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Hmm, got an idea how to get past that?

Just as Adrian starts wondering whether anybody is about to call Knig Errant, the young offender decides that he has enough and pushes back one of the orderlies - an ork looking too burly to be shoved away just like that - trying to get him into a wheelchair.

How'd he do that? And doesn't he feel the knife in his back?

Whatever is fueling the youth - adrenaline, drugs, ware - also keeps him from feeling the cold metal against his neck as a nurse who snuck up on him injects him with something.

Hope she took the right sedative.

Let's just hope none of his friends saw that.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:44:41; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

She knew this line well, it was the 'have not' line. The scene progressed before her, and she was baffled. Either he'd gotten his hands on some 'ware way out of his price range, or he'd just taken NoPaint prior to the incident. she wouldn't know anything about it, except there were some girls back in the parlor that had to smuggle it in because of an abusive client. She paused a moment to rubberneck before answering his question.

"Don't worry, we have nuyen, lines shorten the more money you have." She kept with her fake persona, dismissive of their current plights.

She couldn't help but wonder why they were forcing him down, usually medical treatment was optional, wasting a dope shot on a boy who clearly didn't want medical attention was odd. She wondered if he'd see the light of day tomorrow. Her thoughts drifted back to the task at hand as she made the short trip up to the reception desk. Her eyes continuing to meticulously mess up her depth perception.

"I'd like to look into some implant maintenance, damn eye's on the fritz and customers don't like me winkin' at them too much. Need this fixed soonish and I heard Doc Bailey was the man to ask for." She added, a little quieter. "Especially if you have an ASAP patient log I could sign, that'd be super." Saint played the aloof part of attempting to be friendly too well in her own mind, she critiqued her ennui as she waited for the receptionist to respond.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:44:54; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]

The lady at the receptionist's desk, a massively aged and homely looking human woman, didn't even look up before handing a clipboard to Saint, "Fill out your name and SIN here please, the fee is 500 for the emergency care authorization or you can sit over there by ghetto boy there and wait your turn." The lady quickly had to wipe her ear with a sopping wet tissue that collected some sort of yellow gunk oozing from parts unknown.

The commotion died down a bit as Saint overheard a security guard behind the front desk say, "Yeah martha, Knight Errant is on their way for this bunch, never understand why these guys are so tense... they should try working a day in my job. You know, when I was on the Star this kind of drek never happened..."

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:45:01; Everett, just outside the Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

She could feel her timetable slip away little-by-little. She funneled some cred over to fake SIN's commlink.

"Psshh... I don't have time for lines, the 500 nuyen plan sounds more my speed. By the way, you should really try cyber ears, I swear by 'em."

Mentally she cringed at just tossing that much away for this little adventure, but outwardly she had the bravado she also identified with, some things just couldn't wait.

@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 09:33:00; En-route to UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]

Gemeaux opens up one of his suitcases and pulls out a well-tailored coat. He deftly slips out of the light jacket he wore to the airport, and begins dressing for his part in this particular danse macabre. Being a slender man of refined tastes---meaning a general lack of tattoos, body piercings, or other "decorative" mutilations of his person---he knows he will never cut an imposing figure. He would require accessories to supplement his own inadequacies. This is where his copious array of weaponry fits into the equation.

He puts on the coat, and replaces his Savalette Guardian in one of the coat's concealed holsters. He pulls out it's identical twin from his suitcase, and slips it into the other holster. He pulls six clips of EX-explosive ammunition, and pockets them in his coat. Finally, he takes out the crown jewel of his bodyguard "costume." He pulls out a heavily modified Colt M23---a weapon he has christened La Repartie. It was the result of many hours of meticulous modification and fine-tuning, and an incredibly inelegant weapon for an assassin. However, having been the target of several bounty hunters, he had learned to appreciate the intimidating presence of a very loud, very obvious, and incredibly lethal weapon.

As he checks the rifle's condition---something he had done two times prior to arriving at the airport, but one cannot maintain the reputation of a consummate professional without a diligent review of necessary details---he looks over at the priest.

"With the father attending his child, perhaps now would be an appropriate time to let me know what the next step is in our little sojourn. I can appreciate your desire for discretion, but I would be a very poor bodyguard indeed if I did not ask about what dangers you expect us to cross."

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:45;02 Everett, Everett Medical Center, standing before the reception desk]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Another multiple of 50. Hmm, I'd better remember I owe her 250.

Looking at the receptionist's ear, Adrian doesn't have to fake anything, his ears really start to itch and he can't help but nerrvously rub his left ear.

What's worse? That they can't even treat their own staff or that my companion sees ripping out bodyparts and replacing them with dead stuff as the first and best solution to everything?

it seems he won't have to fake feeling uncomfortable, this place is even creepier than the roads outside and he can't suppress a shudder.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 21:12:58 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]

Jack headed back to get some ammo without so much of a word. It was a solemn moment switching from a slight positive mood to being shut down and scolded by a woman with no fashion sense. A return trip for some ammo was required. Jack turned around going back to whence he came from.

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 21:14:00 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]


Hawke was waiting for him by the bar and motioned Jack over when he finally emerged from the shooting range and, when Jack got closer, whispered quietly, "You said my бабушка needed you to get 6 cases of ammo? Not less?" When Jack nodded tiredly Hawke seemed to find the story intensely hilarious as he let out a deep laugh that caused several of the patrons to look over before going back to their cards, "Then she really is intending to teach you alot, she has a reputation for only needing one shot! I happen to know an uncle you can get all of that from, and he'll even accept credit if you tell him I sent you, name of Pinky over on the corner of East D and 19th Street"

Hawke paused and added as an afterthought, "You do have a vehicle to move it in right?"

freΣdom
[April 16th, 2072 13:11 - Home]

Fractal woke up bleary-eyed as could be. His apartment's Butler6000 was waiting at the side of the bed with what looked like steaming hot soykaf late, and a True™Eggs omelet. <<Max, feed me the top stories, sorted by relevance.>> He filtered through the day's news, while eating his breakfast in bed. There was a lot to do, last night's searching had proved somewhat useful, but not useful enough.

He had a message from that Merc he had contacted the night before, which he read carefully. Damn, these really were serious pros, who had Prospero pissed off.

<<Item found>>

Fractal brought up the search results, and low and behold, he had found a most likely working commID for Summer. He sent out a quick message, asking for a meet to discuss certain happenings of the night before.

Finishing breakfast, Fractal stepped into the SafSuds3000 auto shower, and placed his body into it's gentle hold. While the machine washed, shaved, and prepped him for the day ahead, he fell into VR and looked through the results of the analysis he had been working on. He sent Prospero a short missive, <<Old Man, what drekingdrek corp did you piss off.>> Is all it says. Still, a deal was a deal. Time to scour the shadowboards and see if anyone had seen a Corp Hit Squad moving through Seattle last night.

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

"Knowing Aria, she has not bothered to explain my skill set. I'm interested, although in me, you'll get more than just a digital babysitter. Though I do that job well. So, lets talk tofurkey."

Bale smiled at you grimly… ”good, we’re not after a babysitter. Overspecialisation isn’t all that useful. We each have a smattering of additional skills that help to cover each other’s backs. Silk knows just enough about the matrix to be dangerous…” this time the smile is intended to take the sting out… “she will also be our point specialist and as such she will have the final say in go or no go. Of course she’s only as good as her intel so that will be one of your tasks. Req and I have a different aspect of intel gathering to add to the mix and Sirene I guess will assist us as and how she can. I guess you’d call her a face…Anyone want to add anything…”

The others look on as he growls at you…bloody Brits and their superiority complexes…

“So, what else can you bring to the team? I trust you can shoot a gun without hitting one of us? If not that will be one of the first priorities in the training exercise I’ve got in mind…”

freΣdom / Fractal
[April 16th, 2072 13:11 - Home]

Prospero’s reply was equally terse <<Just find who did this and whether my people are still alive!>> not exactly informative but what did you expect? Summer’s reply to your query is much more to your liking <<Yes, I will meet you. Here is the code for a virtual meeting node on ShadowSEA that I have used in the past unless you want to meet elsewhere?>>

Apart from those two items the boards themselves are buzzing…mostly to do with the continuing hostility in the KE takeover from the Star and the potential for criminal behaviour whilst the watchers are busy watching each other. Nothing so far on corp body snatchers…at least nothing that sounds like it has a grain of truth in it or a notion of credibility…

freΣdom / Erebos
[April 17th, 2072 09:23 – Aimlessly wandering Seattle (job hunting)]

It’s taken you a couple of hours of judicious asking before you got the access codes for the shadow boards. You may have been faster but for the unholy hour of the morning, most shadow types are tucked up in bed asleep, that luxury isn’t likely to be coming your way with the blade hovering over your neck…and Jacob’s neck…

Now, to find someone who’s hiring…and some time later you have a list of possibles for someone with your particular talents. But your rep here will need a dose of building up if you want to attract serious attention…and your debt will require serious attention…

Your gaze is snagged by a request for info flagged with a vid file of some sort of corp hit in the barrens a couple of days ago. Something strikes you as familiar and you have to dredge back through the hazy memories of the last few days…those that weren’t consumed by running. Normally you would have dismissed the feeling as too tenuous but you are sure you saw those vans in convoy in Downtown on the 15th. They’d made you nervous because you thought for a moment that it was the leg breakers catching up with you until they’d turned away. Perhaps this info could be worth something…to this Fractal guy perhaps…

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

"I can shoot well enough, though I won't be doing any trick shooting. I can talk my way into most any place, and act like I belong, and more importantly look like I belong." He grins, his pearly white elven teeth gleaming. "Ask your Mage what race I am."

"Give me a couple of hours, and some nuyen, and I can speak any language needed, like a native. And I can slot any skill we might require, with enough prep time, and again, nuyen."

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

“Well we’ve sunk most of our currently available capital into setting up a series of safe houses and equipment stashes but if there’s something specific that you need for a run then we will do our best to obtain it. We’ll supply you with a list of what we have available for use at the moment…”

Sirene looks at you, perhaps even through you in the disturbing way that mages do…

“Yes, he is human, the disguise is convincing, non? Your skills will dovetail nicely with mine…” and as she steps towards you her appearance flows into an approximation of the male elf that you are currently disguised as, even the timbre of the voice changing to suit “but I think I will defer to you, with your greater experience of metahumanity, to be the face of this group…it is likely that only against another magic user will I have an edge…”

“So, we have that angle well covered,” Bale interrupts… “personally, and I suspect Silk agrees, I prefer to remain unseen rather than trying to talk our way in somewhere, but equally I know how important your skills are. We will plan runs together so if you see an opportunity to do things a different way then I expect you to tell us!”

“Yes,” Silk takes up the thread of the conversation “I would prefer there to be no evidence that we were ever anywhere near one of our run targets. But we plan for all eventualities, otherwise why would Requiem be backing us up with his small arsenal? So what’s this training exercise you have in mind…?”

“Well you won’t like it, but I want to start in a controlled environment… Fractal, we have a safe house of sorts, you might even call it a fortress, a former fire station in southern Bellevue”

“No!”

“You have to go back there and face those demons. We both want the truth…I know it’s been a long time but we may see something that helps…I’ve spoken to Argent and she will add a few surprises in so that we don’t know exactly what to expect. Other than that we have set the place up with the highest levels of security we could afford so it should be a challenge and will help to identify any weaknesses in our defences. We’ll have access to three dimensional plans and notional protection measures, our task will be to access the safe room at the heart of the building and make off with the plans stored on an offline ‘link in there. This one is a stealth mission, nobody must see us, not least because we don’t want to draw any attention to the safe house. So, questions?”

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

Fractal tries not to look too impressed by the Mage's shift in appearance. "That's handy". A video clip and a note are added to Sirene's file.

"Do we want to plan here?" He looks around, it's a bit more open than he's used to. "How much time do we have to plan, and prep." Through all the flash, it's clear that Fractal is a man who likes to measure twice, and cut only once.

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

“No, we just wanted to sound you out, see if you were interested before we move on…” Silk frowned at Bale… “as Bale and I know the location all too well I guess we’d like to see what ideas you have for breaching it. We can discuss intel once we meet up again but to give you something to mull over I’m an infiltrator, Bale and Requiem specialise in combat and detection and Sirene is a spirit with all the benefits and drawbacks that that entails…to some degree we are all trained in stealth and depending on how competent you feel in that department we can either try and get some technological aids to help or leave you to your own devices. In the past comms have alternated between being run on site or from a remote location… which do you feel most comfortable with?”

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

"I much prefer to be on site for the trigger pull. Makes it easier to take care of any issues." Fractal ponders, "I'm not really the.. ninja type. My stealth comes from blending into the crowd, and looking as if I belong where ever it is I'm supposed to be." He does a little twirl, "Effeminate Elf boytoy, enjoying the park with other like minded effiminate elves." He flashes a grin. "I can probably pick up a basic stealth package. But it's only going to fool your basic security systems. Though, if I get enough lead time onsite, I can probably compromise most of the cameras around. But we can talk about all that when we sit down to brass tacks. When and Where do we want to meet."

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 21:16:10 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]

"Well a vehicle, I umm...well don't. Everything was pretty much within walking distance at my last place. I haven't had to transport anything before. Not like this anyway..." The conversation was awkwardly forced for Jack. It may have been the combination of having an incredibly demeaning conversation with an elderly lady who further offended anyone with a sense of fashion, or it could have been the need to move a large quantity of ammo which likely was a first.

"I don't suppose you have anyone you trust to go with me to meet your uncle that has a reliable vehicle do you?"
If not I suppose an indy cab will only cost me one of my kidneys to move the goods...

Jack looked around at the attention the laugh had drawn in and only hoped there wasn't someone listening in when Alexi mentioned the ammo. Gambling, shoplifting, general theft, and countless other petty acts was no big deal, this was smuggling on a limited level. It gave Jack something of an adrenaline rush and passed quickly. He preferred the high he got when playing a full house or a straight but this was something new, and Jack typically liked new.

Erebos fumbles about and fashions a message to Fractal, attempting not to sound like the scared kid he was. I hear you're looking for something to give you and adVANtage... I may be able to help you out. [PAN Address] 500 nuyen. You name the time, I'll name the place.

You have got to be the worst ... criminal ... ever.

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Madrona Park, Lake Washington Blvd, Seattle]

“We have a comfortable safehouse on south east sixth street in Bellevue. I suggest we meet there this evening to begin planning our moves. Gather what you will all need before that. A protocol that the old team used was that when they were preplanning a run, right through to sometime after completion, they stuck together as much as reasonably possible… for safety in numbers and control of information. I’ve heard too many horror stories of a target picking off runners before they even step through the door and I don’t want that to happen to us. I know we all have lives outside of running but doing this ensures we keep them separate as much as possible.

Don’t worry about the stealth package for now… we’ll source camo for the relevant job or pick up full stealth suits when the need arises. Ideally we get you and Bale fully kitted in milspec gear, I have a contact with the right sort of connections to arrange that and it would allow us to tackle the kind of threats that the old team dealt with… yes, I know that’s hardly blending in but it may pay to have the option open to us”

Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Near the Safehouse, Bellevue]

Fractal did a good job of hiding his disappointment that noone took his goad. "I'll bring my gear. I can get there by 7 or so. I don't mind sticking together. Though I do want a room of my own. I spend a lot of time in bed." Fractal didn't really have a life of his own, other than gathering info and spoofing himself a halfway decent lifestyle.

Fractal laughed, "Yes, Milspec doesn't really blend in. Not usually my style. But those lovely fullbody suits, are pretty sweet, and they fit underneath regular clothing."

"That seems settled." He takes Sirene's hand and kisses it, bowing to the others. "Lady, Gentlemen. I shall take my leave of you. You wouldn't believe how much packing I need to do. The life of a Dilettant is never done." Fractal waits briefly in case anyone has anything to say, and then he departs the park.

Fractal takes a rather circuitous route getting back to his current hideaway, changing disguises, entering the building he's currently occupying.
"Good Morning, Steve. How's the family?"

"OH well, Mr Druthers. Welcome back sir. Is there anything I can do for you?" Asked the Security guard at the Lobby front desk.
"Yes, a Limo service will be showing up in about 4 hours, can you see that they get access to the freight elevator. I have a lot of luggage."
"Of course Mr Druthers, of course."

With that Fractal went upstairs to the well furnished Condo he'd appropriated just a few months ago. It was time to burn this place anyways. Fractal spent about an hour and a half packing up everything he cared about, gear, disguises, weapons, into false bottomed suitcases. The following hours were spent reprogramming the home system to do a proper scrub of all evidence he had ever been here. By the time he was satisfied he had scorched all biological and electronic evidence, the Limo driver was arriving up the front door.

Fractal had the Limo driver pack up his luggage, and take him to a very swank hotel in downtown Seattle, where he had a relationship with the doorman, who immediately called him a cab. After another hour, Fractal showed up with his luggage at a corner near the safehouse, this time looking like an Orc deliveryman, complete with a delivery van. He dropped the luggage out the back, and sent the van on it's return trip home, having planted a delayed bug that would erase all records of where it had driven in the last 30 minutes, and the next 30.

He opened up a commchat to Silk. <<I'm here. Which building is it.>>

freΣdom / Erebos
[April 17th, 2072 10:05:16 – Aimlessly wandering Seattle (job hunting)]

Erebos makes his way downtown, wandering rather carelessly looking for the spot where he had seen the vans. He fishes his comm out of his pocket and dials the only person he trusts...

Pockets... It's Erebos. Listen. I gotta get out from under Kecce and his goons. I got a line on something but I need to know if I'm walking into a knife here. Can you pull some strings and give me everything you have on the handle 'Fractal'? I owe you man...

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:50:11; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

It had been some time, either the receptionist was ignoring Saint, or hadn't heard a word out of her mouth. She assumed the tapping away the oozing woman had done at her commlink was involved with the transaction, but no comment had been made otherwise.

"So... Am I good to go?"

Saint makes sure that her own commlink logged the transfer, she had a credstick but it was empty. The thought dawns on her, that paying via PAN for a 'standard' fee was perhaps an idiotic move, even though it was a fake SIN. She blamed it on her airy alter ego, and waited for a reply.

John, now affectionately known as Sport was more than playing his part, but he looked uncomfortable too, that she hadn't recognized as something she told him would work as an angle. Something in here had him squirming on the end of a hook, when she turned back to the receptionist the answer lay before her. They'd both be thankful to move along down the line. The ooze was starting to turn green--

freΣdom / Erebos
[April 17th, 2072 10:15:16 – Dockfront, Elliot Avenue West, Seattle]

You're sure this was it...they came out of that building over there and gave you the fright of your lives...bastards nearly ran you over, it's why you thought they were after you at first. In hindsight that was probably a silly assumption but Kecce has fingers in many pies and you'd hardly been thinking clearly at the time...

Your 'link chimes with an incoming missive from Pockets

<<So you wanna know about Fractal? I’ve gathered a small dossier for you from a couple of the shadow boards. Far as I can tell he’s an up-and-coming star on the hacker front. Got some solid rep with his peers and is rumoured to have successfully done a number of jobs recently. Nothing concrete, but for a runner, having it confirmed that you’ve done something, at least in the recent past, is as good as saying you lack subtlety and your rep takes a hit… I’ll send the file over and you can look through it yourself. Keep your head down Erebos, you’re hot at the moment, be careful who you accept work from!>>