Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
<<I’m here…>>
<<Fractal, good, come in…>> and a discrete ARO highlights the path to one of the non-descript suburban condos done up in shabby chic. It’s a corner plot surrounded by trees and other vegetation that shield it from observation. A quick scan reveals a dense amount of wifi traffic in the neighbourhood and you suspect that there are surveillance measures hidden in the mesh.
Inside there is a sparse selection of comfortable furniture and a sweeping AR Wallscape™ that currently depicts the surroundings of the house from multiple angles, including overhead.
“You can stash your stuff in the garage out of the way for the moment…you planning on a long stay then?” you are sure you hear Bale muttering something about kitchen sinks...
The team are waiting for you in the living room. From the walkers in the park they have transformed into the very image of runners…darkened armour suits, weaponry and various pieces of technological paraphernalia. Only Sirene is unchanged in her summer dress and bare feet…
Full Version: 2072: Game World
Pages: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51
@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 09:33:00; En-route to UK]
How much to tell him.... What do I tell this assassin? Anselm calmly rocked back in his seat and turned on the white noise generator he kept for the occasions like these that required discrete speech. "Indeed you would be, however I expect that the main concerns will have to do with either those who would like to, shall we say interview, our guests. Prominent researchers at places like Aztechnology and others of their ilk have expressed the desire to repay those who turn such as the father in to their human resourcing centers with very lucrative contracts. Now, I have nothing against free enterprise but for myself I would rather this particular man stay... unattached for the time being. Keeping him so will help us gain favor with some very interesting individuals; it's your job to see to it that the individuals, eco-rads and others, don't find us a little too interesting first."
[May 19th, 2072, 09:33:00; En-route to UK]
How much to tell him.... What do I tell this assassin? Anselm calmly rocked back in his seat and turned on the white noise generator he kept for the occasions like these that required discrete speech. "Indeed you would be, however I expect that the main concerns will have to do with either those who would like to, shall we say interview, our guests. Prominent researchers at places like Aztechnology and others of their ilk have expressed the desire to repay those who turn such as the father in to their human resourcing centers with very lucrative contracts. Now, I have nothing against free enterprise but for myself I would rather this particular man stay... unattached for the time being. Keeping him so will help us gain favor with some very interesting individuals; it's your job to see to it that the individuals, eco-rads and others, don't find us a little too interesting first."
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 21:16:23 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]
Hawke nodded in an understanding manner, "I thought that might be the case here, tell you what, I'll have josef go and pick them up for you but I'll take a favor in return if you don't mind? There's a tournament in two days over at Casino Corner, you've heard of the place?" When Jack nodded quickly, he continued, "As it happens, I have a team going to that tournament but they are short one person and you seem to be very good at cards and you are looking for experience... I want you to go with them, you don't know them of course but you'll meet them shortly before the tournament starts. I want you to play as hard as you can to win, but if you end up against them in the finals I want you to stack the deck in their favor, and if it comes down to you losing to make them win, do it. After that, you can come back and tell me all about your experience, keep your eye out for anything unusual and tell your old uncle."
[April 17th, 2072, 21:16:23 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]
Hawke nodded in an understanding manner, "I thought that might be the case here, tell you what, I'll have josef go and pick them up for you but I'll take a favor in return if you don't mind? There's a tournament in two days over at Casino Corner, you've heard of the place?" When Jack nodded quickly, he continued, "As it happens, I have a team going to that tournament but they are short one person and you seem to be very good at cards and you are looking for experience... I want you to go with them, you don't know them of course but you'll meet them shortly before the tournament starts. I want you to play as hard as you can to win, but if you end up against them in the finals I want you to stack the deck in their favor, and if it comes down to you losing to make them win, do it. After that, you can come back and tell me all about your experience, keep your eye out for anything unusual and tell your old uncle."
@Fortune's Forecast (Saint/Adrian)
[April 17th, 2072, 00:50:11; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
The nurse with the disturbing ear infection looked up and smiled, "Thank you for paying the paper work fees love but you missed the most important one, the payment for processing dear... it's also 500 nuyen and honestly our electronic systems have been having issues lately, you know how things go around here, never enough funding..."
She looked very pointedly at Saint and then at Adrian and tossed two badges onto the counter, "But I'm sure you'll be able to find that missing paperwork by the time you get back from your appointment. Right cyber-eye was it? Doctor Bailey just had an opening for diagnostics, he's in room 403, through the doors, take the first left then the second right and up the elevator, right on the fourth floor and second door on the left."
[April 17th, 2072, 00:50:11; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
The nurse with the disturbing ear infection looked up and smiled, "Thank you for paying the paper work fees love but you missed the most important one, the payment for processing dear... it's also 500 nuyen and honestly our electronic systems have been having issues lately, you know how things go around here, never enough funding..."
She looked very pointedly at Saint and then at Adrian and tossed two badges onto the counter, "But I'm sure you'll be able to find that missing paperwork by the time you get back from your appointment. Right cyber-eye was it? Doctor Bailey just had an opening for diagnostics, he's in room 403, through the doors, take the first left then the second right and up the elevator, right on the fourth floor and second door on the left."
freΣdom / Fractal
[April 17th, 2072 11:12:42 – Safe House]
<<Erebos, lets meet. You pick the place, I'll pick the time. Some mutually beneficial business might be doable.>>
The one thing that's clear in the dossier, is that pretty much noone knows what race he is. Although everyone is fairly sure he IS a person, and not an AI or E-Ghost. People talk about meeting a Troll, an Orc, even an Elf. Noone can seem to agree on his personality either. That being said, he's known for being solid with the information, and providing excellent on the ground support.
Fractal, curious about this Erebos does some searching, contacting a few connections he has.
Meanwhile, Fractal shows up at his meeting with Summer, using her codes, and armed to the gills. His Fractal form pulsates to an unheard background beat. <<Summer, it's unfortunate we can't meet under more pleasant circumstances. I've been contracted to determine events that happened recently. I was led to believe that you might be able to shed some light on this rather baffling problem?>>
[April 17th, 2072 11:12:42 – Safe House]
<<Erebos, lets meet. You pick the place, I'll pick the time. Some mutually beneficial business might be doable.>>
The one thing that's clear in the dossier, is that pretty much noone knows what race he is. Although everyone is fairly sure he IS a person, and not an AI or E-Ghost. People talk about meeting a Troll, an Orc, even an Elf. Noone can seem to agree on his personality either. That being said, he's known for being solid with the information, and providing excellent on the ground support.
Fractal, curious about this Erebos does some searching, contacting a few connections he has.
Meanwhile, Fractal shows up at his meeting with Summer, using her codes, and armed to the gills. His Fractal form pulsates to an unheard background beat. <<Summer, it's unfortunate we can't meet under more pleasant circumstances. I've been contracted to determine events that happened recently. I was led to believe that you might be able to shed some light on this rather baffling problem?>>
Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
Fractal grins, "Not particularly. Just long enough to pull off the job, let the heat if any die down. It was time to clear out of the life I was borrowing anyways. I have others in the works." He considers for a second, as if about to say something, but then seems to change his mind and goes to stow his gear into the garage. All, except for a couple of items, which he seems to carry in a small backpack, the kind you might see couriers or students carry. Fractal disappears into the bathroom, and emerges 20 minutes later looking completely different again. The Fractal that comes out is a dead ringer for Johnny Matrix, the hacker in the Sunflower Guns™ TV show.
He plops down in the living room, and gives the entire group of killers a smile. "lets get down to brass tacks." It's subtle, but it's obvious that he's wearing a full body suit under his clothes, and from the look the clothes he is wearing are armored, though.. subtly. He sits down on the couch and leans back, relaxed, though he does have two guns tucked into shoulder holsters.
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
Fractal grins, "Not particularly. Just long enough to pull off the job, let the heat if any die down. It was time to clear out of the life I was borrowing anyways. I have others in the works." He considers for a second, as if about to say something, but then seems to change his mind and goes to stow his gear into the garage. All, except for a couple of items, which he seems to carry in a small backpack, the kind you might see couriers or students carry. Fractal disappears into the bathroom, and emerges 20 minutes later looking completely different again. The Fractal that comes out is a dead ringer for Johnny Matrix, the hacker in the Sunflower Guns™ TV show.
He plops down in the living room, and gives the entire group of killers a smile. "lets get down to brass tacks." It's subtle, but it's obvious that he's wearing a full body suit under his clothes, and from the look the clothes he is wearing are armored, though.. subtly. He sits down on the couch and leans back, relaxed, though he does have two guns tucked into shoulder holsters.
@Fortune's Forecast (Saint/Adrian)
[April 18th, 2072, 00:50:11; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
Hmm, a thousand to see this ominous 'doctor'; wonder what she does with her cut that's more important than having her ear treated.
<<from:Sport to:Saint>Let's get going. I'll cover the other 500.>
Nodding at the nurse, Adrian grabs one of the badges and starts to head for the doors. Near which stands a small group of people - the Ork orderly from before and two nurses berating him. They seem to blame him for that troublemaker's behaviour. And he seems to not care a bit. Maybe he's used to it?
[April 18th, 2072, 00:50:11; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
Hmm, a thousand to see this ominous 'doctor'; wonder what she does with her cut that's more important than having her ear treated.
<<from:Sport to:Saint>Let's get going. I'll cover the other 500.>
Nodding at the nurse, Adrian grabs one of the badges and starts to head for the doors. Near which stands a small group of people - the Ork orderly from before and two nurses berating him. They seem to blame him for that troublemaker's behaviour. And he seems to not care a bit. Maybe he's used to it?
@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 09:33:00; En-route to UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Gemeaux grins bitterly at the mention of "Aztechnology and their ilk." Ah, the elegant simplicity of the megacorp mindset---so essentially human. It wants, it desires, and it thinks nothing of the actual humans it now considers "lesser beings."
"That is a wide range of potential enemies," he says, returning La Repartie to its case, "and while I would prefer more details, I suppose that will have to do for the time being. I must confess that I am ill-equipped to handle magical threats, but I suspect that is an issue you can attend to if it arises."
He withdraws one last effect from his luggage---a sterling silver flask and a pair of crystal wine glasses. He takes a seat across from the priest, pouring the man and himself a glass of fine Cassis wine. He offers the glass to the priest.
"Now, can you tell me a bit about arrangements once we arrive in the UK? I suppose 'traveling in style' is too much to hope for..."
[May 19th, 2072, 09:33:00; En-route to UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Gemeaux grins bitterly at the mention of "Aztechnology and their ilk." Ah, the elegant simplicity of the megacorp mindset---so essentially human. It wants, it desires, and it thinks nothing of the actual humans it now considers "lesser beings."
"That is a wide range of potential enemies," he says, returning La Repartie to its case, "and while I would prefer more details, I suppose that will have to do for the time being. I must confess that I am ill-equipped to handle magical threats, but I suspect that is an issue you can attend to if it arises."
He withdraws one last effect from his luggage---a sterling silver flask and a pair of crystal wine glasses. He takes a seat across from the priest, pouring the man and himself a glass of fine Cassis wine. He offers the glass to the priest.
"Now, can you tell me a bit about arrangements once we arrive in the UK? I suppose 'traveling in style' is too much to hope for..."
Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
Bale snorts in amusement as you enter the room in yet another guise. Sirene smiles at you too, clearly looking beyond the physical form to the unmistakable cast of your aura (or whatever it is that these spirits do…). Requiem looks uncomfortable and you notice a distinct tic in his jaw line that perhaps doesn’t bode well. Silk on the other hand ignores you, sunk in some state of inward looking contemplation.
“Ok, now you’re here…” a slight pause while Silk takes in your appearance “anyway, let’s decide how we are going to penetrate the location undetected and make off with the goods. We have the layout and some information about the services for the building. It’s not over a major sewer route so underground isn’t likely to be an option. Security is tight but we don’t know much more than that…any thoughts Fractal? Bale and I can’t exactly forget what we know about the place so this planning session is in your hands…”
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
Bale snorts in amusement as you enter the room in yet another guise. Sirene smiles at you too, clearly looking beyond the physical form to the unmistakable cast of your aura (or whatever it is that these spirits do…). Requiem looks uncomfortable and you notice a distinct tic in his jaw line that perhaps doesn’t bode well. Silk on the other hand ignores you, sunk in some state of inward looking contemplation.
“Ok, now you’re here…” a slight pause while Silk takes in your appearance “anyway, let’s decide how we are going to penetrate the location undetected and make off with the goods. We have the layout and some information about the services for the building. It’s not over a major sewer route so underground isn’t likely to be an option. Security is tight but we don’t know much more than that…any thoughts Fractal? Bale and I can’t exactly forget what we know about the place so this planning session is in your hands…”
freΣdom / Fractal
[April 17th, 2072 11:12:42 – ShadowSEA meeting node]
You step into the node and straight into a lurid garden scene reminiscent of Alice in its strangeness. The iconography has clearly been manipulated since you were last here, ShadowSEA don’t usually have the funds to sculpt their meeting nodes to suit their clients.
Alice herself appears like the Cheshire cat in a phase of pixels…
“Fractal? Thank you for meeting me. You are working for Prospero? I offered to help him myself but unfortunately the runners I sent were intercepted. So, you want to know what’s going on? Well, it will come as no surprise to you that since our emergence my kind have been hunted. Prospero was generous enough, or foolish enough, to shelter a number of us. It would seem that our hunters have found a fast way of identifying us, something that ought to concern everyone. Particularly as I don’t know where they were taken or who is responsible, or to what use they will put those they have taken. Perhaps you will be able to piece this tale together? I hope so! You are wondering about how much trust I am placing in you? Let us just say that I have seen the aid you can, and will, give us in the future…”
[April 17th, 2072 11:12:42 – ShadowSEA meeting node]
You step into the node and straight into a lurid garden scene reminiscent of Alice in its strangeness. The iconography has clearly been manipulated since you were last here, ShadowSEA don’t usually have the funds to sculpt their meeting nodes to suit their clients.
Alice herself appears like the Cheshire cat in a phase of pixels…
“Fractal? Thank you for meeting me. You are working for Prospero? I offered to help him myself but unfortunately the runners I sent were intercepted. So, you want to know what’s going on? Well, it will come as no surprise to you that since our emergence my kind have been hunted. Prospero was generous enough, or foolish enough, to shelter a number of us. It would seem that our hunters have found a fast way of identifying us, something that ought to concern everyone. Particularly as I don’t know where they were taken or who is responsible, or to what use they will put those they have taken. Perhaps you will be able to piece this tale together? I hope so! You are wondering about how much trust I am placing in you? Let us just say that I have seen the aid you can, and will, give us in the future…”
Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
Fractal seems to ignore the scowls, and just focuses on the work at hand. It's interesting that his entire body language is completely different than it was before. Given enough time it might well be possible to detect the similarities, but the short term effect is fairly confusing. Even the speech pattern is different. And if he's giving offense by not trusting these people he just met with his real face, he doesn't seem to care.
"lets bring up the lay out, and the services. See what they tell us. We're also going to need to do some recon. Are there any deliveries, does anyone come and go." He looks up at Sirene, "What magical defenses are there. It would be swell if we managed to get to the cheese, just to realize there's an invisible magical cat waiting to eat who ever is there."
He considers. "wireless network suppression. Duct systems. There's so many ways we could do this. We need to narrow it down some. Is the place currently abandoned? Or is there armed security?"
"The preferred plan would be something along the lines of" As he speaks, a bullet point list shows up on a holo projector Fractal places down on the table.
* Sirene and Fractal disable security measures
* Bale infiltrates and retries item, possibly with Silk?
* Requiem acts as Johnny on the spot should problems arise.
"I will need a day or so to analyze the target. See what's going on. See if I can compromise their security system a head of time. Brute force is so inellegant."
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
Fractal seems to ignore the scowls, and just focuses on the work at hand. It's interesting that his entire body language is completely different than it was before. Given enough time it might well be possible to detect the similarities, but the short term effect is fairly confusing. Even the speech pattern is different. And if he's giving offense by not trusting these people he just met with his real face, he doesn't seem to care.
"lets bring up the lay out, and the services. See what they tell us. We're also going to need to do some recon. Are there any deliveries, does anyone come and go." He looks up at Sirene, "What magical defenses are there. It would be swell if we managed to get to the cheese, just to realize there's an invisible magical cat waiting to eat who ever is there."
He considers. "wireless network suppression. Duct systems. There's so many ways we could do this. We need to narrow it down some. Is the place currently abandoned? Or is there armed security?"
"The preferred plan would be something along the lines of" As he speaks, a bullet point list shows up on a holo projector Fractal places down on the table.
* Sirene and Fractal disable security measures
* Bale infiltrates and retries item, possibly with Silk?
* Requiem acts as Johnny on the spot should problems arise.
"I will need a day or so to analyze the target. See what's going on. See if I can compromise their security system a head of time. Brute force is so inellegant."
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:50:36; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
<<@Sport: Damnit, classic blunder, I just over-paid by not thinking. Payments like that usually get taken care of through credsticks. Never be in a hurry to pay someone when the charges can go up. This curiosity is getting expensive. [Saint]>>
She had to bite her tongue and smile. Extortion was worth every nuyen, and this place would've crumbled long ago without it. She takes the other badge and follows Sport through the doors and past the three quarreling staff members.
Room 403. Through the doors, first left then the second right and up the elevator. Right on the fourth floor and second door on the left.
She didn't have time to react toward them, more than likely he was being chastised, no doubt, for bringing KE onto their doorstep. She ran a stopwatch in AR from 5 minutes, counting down. They weren't likely to have that much time, but it was something to keep mindful of.
[April 17th, 2072, 00:50:36; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
<<@Sport: Damnit, classic blunder, I just over-paid by not thinking. Payments like that usually get taken care of through credsticks. Never be in a hurry to pay someone when the charges can go up. This curiosity is getting expensive. [Saint]>>
She had to bite her tongue and smile. Extortion was worth every nuyen, and this place would've crumbled long ago without it. She takes the other badge and follows Sport through the doors and past the three quarreling staff members.
Room 403. Through the doors, first left then the second right and up the elevator. Right on the fourth floor and second door on the left.
She didn't have time to react toward them, more than likely he was being chastised, no doubt, for bringing KE onto their doorstep. She ran a stopwatch in AR from 5 minutes, counting down. They weren't likely to have that much time, but it was something to keep mindful of.
freΣdom / Fractal
[April 17th, 2072 11:15:42 – Downtown]
Erebos' PAN chirps.
<<Erebos, lets meet. You pick the place, I'll pick the time. Some mutually beneficial business might be doable.>>
Keep your head down Erebos, you’re hot at the moment, be careful who you accept work from! Pocket's words echoed in his ears as Erebos stood on the street corner just up the street from where he had seen the vans.
<<The corner of Spring and Madison. I'll be there with bells on...>> Erebos hesitated; uncertain he wanted to go down this path. Not that he had many choices... [send]
Looking up at the street sign, 'Spring St. / Madison', Erebos walked to the end of the block and slipped into an alley and, after ensuring there were no cameras, sat down to wait for this ... Fractal's reply.
[April 17th, 2072 11:15:42 – Downtown]
Erebos' PAN chirps.
<<Erebos, lets meet. You pick the place, I'll pick the time. Some mutually beneficial business might be doable.>>
Keep your head down Erebos, you’re hot at the moment, be careful who you accept work from! Pocket's words echoed in his ears as Erebos stood on the street corner just up the street from where he had seen the vans.
<<The corner of Spring and Madison. I'll be there with bells on...>> Erebos hesitated; uncertain he wanted to go down this path. Not that he had many choices... [send]
Looking up at the street sign, 'Spring St. / Madison', Erebos walked to the end of the block and slipped into an alley and, after ensuring there were no cameras, sat down to wait for this ... Fractal's reply.
@E:PL
[July 3rd, 2072, 4:15 PM; Ælias' Apartment, Auburn, Seattle]
He had needed to work quickly gathering the things he needed for the trip to Chicago, especially after the unexpected need to spend three days in bed. Luckily, most of the things he needed were easy enough to find, just a stop off at the local Sports Stop™ and a few thousand nuyen later he had what he had what he came for. At least the legal and easily available stuff.
His next stop was at a Renraku One-Stop Electronic Shop™, where he had one little, but important sensor to grab. At a rather hefty 550
a pop, Ælias got a Sensor RFID Geiger Counter, and they even did the injection into the lower dermis of his forearm for free with his purchase. He mentally turned the wireless signal on it off after leaving, letting his own natural skinlink integrate it into his biological PAN, a small number in the corner of his eye, just another one among the many AR displays he kept active when he had to be present in his meat.
The last things on his list were going to be the hardest: he wanted to get vials of Wyrd Mantis Essence. He had heard from some reliable posters on various shadowhavens that it worked rather well to keep most bug spirits away. One poster had commented about barely escaping a couple of Mantis spirits while wearing the stuff, but many agreed that the risk was worth it to keep the others away. He stopped at four different talismonger shops before finally getting a lead on the stuff. It took another two stops and then a quick trip down a back alley to a musty basement to pay another 1400 for two bottles of it. He knew the price was high, but he didn't have the time, nor frankly the skill to find it for cheaper. This job was going to worth a lot, both monetarily and in potential with Stillwater, for him to complain too much, but that didn't keep his credstick from feeling the ache.
After two days out and about on the town, dropping thousands of nuyen on new gear that would be useful, but unlikely to be used again in his opinion, Ælias had one last thing he needed to do before his trip across the continent. He needed to find a way to get his gear there. Sure, some of it could come with him on the suborbital flight, but he didn't need the hassle of declaring his Predator, nor did he want them to find the combat drugs he knew he would probably need, nor his collection of disguise tools, makeups, and nanopaste containers. After asking around with The Refugees, he came up with the name Technicolor Wings. Apparently they were a courier service that was very shadow friendly, as well as a frequent employer of other unwired individuals like himself. He wired Brer Fox another stipend for the connection (that guys seems to know everybody) and gave a call to someone named Inbus, apparently an employee of TW and a technomancer.
<< @Inbus: Hoi, Brer Fox passed your digits my way, said you were a friend of The Refugees. I have a package that needs to be dropped off in Chicago, not much bigger than two briefcases. Going to be there in four - five days. Sound possible? ~Ælias >>
[July 3rd, 2072, 4:15 PM; Ælias' Apartment, Auburn, Seattle]
He had needed to work quickly gathering the things he needed for the trip to Chicago, especially after the unexpected need to spend three days in bed. Luckily, most of the things he needed were easy enough to find, just a stop off at the local Sports Stop™ and a few thousand nuyen later he had what he had what he came for. At least the legal and easily available stuff.
His next stop was at a Renraku One-Stop Electronic Shop™, where he had one little, but important sensor to grab. At a rather hefty 550
a pop, Ælias got a Sensor RFID Geiger Counter, and they even did the injection into the lower dermis of his forearm for free with his purchase. He mentally turned the wireless signal on it off after leaving, letting his own natural skinlink integrate it into his biological PAN, a small number in the corner of his eye, just another one among the many AR displays he kept active when he had to be present in his meat. The last things on his list were going to be the hardest: he wanted to get vials of Wyrd Mantis Essence. He had heard from some reliable posters on various shadowhavens that it worked rather well to keep most bug spirits away. One poster had commented about barely escaping a couple of Mantis spirits while wearing the stuff, but many agreed that the risk was worth it to keep the others away. He stopped at four different talismonger shops before finally getting a lead on the stuff. It took another two stops and then a quick trip down a back alley to a musty basement to pay another 1400
for two bottles of it. He knew the price was high, but he didn't have the time, nor frankly the skill to find it for cheaper. This job was going to worth a lot, both monetarily and in potential with Stillwater, for him to complain too much, but that didn't keep his credstick from feeling the ache. After two days out and about on the town, dropping thousands of nuyen on new gear that would be useful, but unlikely to be used again in his opinion, Ælias had one last thing he needed to do before his trip across the continent. He needed to find a way to get his gear there. Sure, some of it could come with him on the suborbital flight, but he didn't need the hassle of declaring his Predator, nor did he want them to find the combat drugs he knew he would probably need, nor his collection of disguise tools, makeups, and nanopaste containers. After asking around with The Refugees, he came up with the name Technicolor Wings. Apparently they were a courier service that was very shadow friendly, as well as a frequent employer of other unwired individuals like himself. He wired Brer Fox another stipend for the connection (that guys seems to know everybody) and gave a call to someone named Inbus, apparently an employee of TW and a technomancer.
<< @Inbus: Hoi, Brer Fox passed your digits my way, said you were a friend of The Refugees. I have a package that needs to be dropped off in Chicago, not much bigger than two briefcases. Going to be there in four - five days. Sound possible? ~Ælias >>
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:51:19; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
Hmm, I'd better get a few of them, then. Never know when they might come in handy.
Turning left after the doors, Adrian and Saint enter a corridor that may have seen better times. Maybe back then someone had been able to decide on either green, white or gray. Today, it's hard to tell which colour was the original one and which ones were painted over lateron.
The second on the right is another corridor, which leads straight towards a pair of elevators in between which is located an ancient-looking card swiper.
Guess the badges aren't just for decoration, eh?
[April 18th, 2072, 00:51:19; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
Hmm, I'd better get a few of them, then. Never know when they might come in handy.
Turning left after the doors, Adrian and Saint enter a corridor that may have seen better times. Maybe back then someone had been able to decide on either green, white or gray. Today, it's hard to tell which colour was the original one and which ones were painted over lateron.
The second on the right is another corridor, which leads straight towards a pair of elevators in between which is located an ancient-looking card swiper.
Guess the badges aren't just for decoration, eh?
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:51:27; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
<<They wouldn't want people just randomly moving about the hospital, that would mean people going for the free plan could sneak into scheduled appointments. We can't have poor folk taking advantage of the system, that doesn't make money.>>
She slid her card through the reader, fully expecting a broken down elevator with a sign, "please use service ladder."
"Open sesame."
No such luck, or lack thereof, the thing sounded like an over-sized metal coffin, so there was the bright side. She pressed the button for the fourth floor. It blinked to life, but nothing happened. A "stick-it" ARO let her know that it needed a good punch, after a stress relieving couple of smacks the elevator came to life. The doors closed and up they went. Apparently this was a popular floor.
[April 17th, 2072, 00:51:27; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
<<They wouldn't want people just randomly moving about the hospital, that would mean people going for the free plan could sneak into scheduled appointments. We can't have poor folk taking advantage of the system, that doesn't make money.>>
She slid her card through the reader, fully expecting a broken down elevator with a sign, "please use service ladder."
"Open sesame."
No such luck, or lack thereof, the thing sounded like an over-sized metal coffin, so there was the bright side. She pressed the button for the fourth floor. It blinked to life, but nothing happened. A "stick-it" ARO let her know that it needed a good punch, after a stress relieving couple of smacks the elevator came to life. The doors closed and up they went. Apparently this was a popular floor.
@E:PL
[July 3rd, 2072, 7:23 PM; Cheap motel, Chicago]
Copperhead yawned and stretched, her metal fists banging against the wall above the lumpy bed's non-existant headboard and her bare feet against the wall just beyond the bottom of the bed.
Frag, glad I'm short for a troll or this place would be really pissing me off.
She climbed out of the bed, the thin sheet wrapped around her and lumbered into the tiny room that pretended to be an ensuite bathroom. The shower didn't work and was so filthy she wouldn't have used it anyway. Instead, she hung the sheet on the back of the door and washed in the lukewarm water from the tap.
Lucky me, the water's almost warm today.
Somewhat clean she returned to the small room and dressed. Last year's sports underwear, a tight fitting top, her form-fitting armor, combat armor and biker boots, respirator and goggles. She adjusted the trode net woven into her hair and called Dealer.
<<Hey void-boy, I'm up and ready to roll. Gonna go find some breakfast. Any word from da J?>>
She reflexively checks her fetishes and foci, then scoops up the big Enfield combat shotgun. They might not be in the containment zone yet, but this part of Chigaco was as bad as the Redmond Barrens so it paid to be prepared. Mumbling a spell as she leaves the room, she turns to the snake spirit curled under the bed.
Her shamanic mask flaring around the goggles and respirator, she hisses, "You eatss anyone dat comess in, okay?"
The beast spirit hisses back with anticipation.
Sure beats a guard dog or drone. Thank you, Mama Snake for the service of your eager servant.
As she exits the motel, she carefully checks up and down the street in the evening's fading light, then heads off in search of 'breakfast'.
[July 3rd, 2072, 7:23 PM; Cheap motel, Chicago]
Copperhead yawned and stretched, her metal fists banging against the wall above the lumpy bed's non-existant headboard and her bare feet against the wall just beyond the bottom of the bed.
Frag, glad I'm short for a troll or this place would be really pissing me off.
She climbed out of the bed, the thin sheet wrapped around her and lumbered into the tiny room that pretended to be an ensuite bathroom. The shower didn't work and was so filthy she wouldn't have used it anyway. Instead, she hung the sheet on the back of the door and washed in the lukewarm water from the tap.
Lucky me, the water's almost warm today.
Somewhat clean she returned to the small room and dressed. Last year's sports underwear, a tight fitting top, her form-fitting armor, combat armor and biker boots, respirator and goggles. She adjusted the trode net woven into her hair and called Dealer.
<<Hey void-boy, I'm up and ready to roll. Gonna go find some breakfast. Any word from da J?>>
She reflexively checks her fetishes and foci, then scoops up the big Enfield combat shotgun. They might not be in the containment zone yet, but this part of Chigaco was as bad as the Redmond Barrens so it paid to be prepared. Mumbling a spell as she leaves the room, she turns to the snake spirit curled under the bed.
Her shamanic mask flaring around the goggles and respirator, she hisses, "You eatss anyone dat comess in, okay?"
The beast spirit hisses back with anticipation.
Sure beats a guard dog or drone. Thank you, Mama Snake for the service of your eager servant.
As she exits the motel, she carefully checks up and down the street in the evening's fading light, then heads off in search of 'breakfast'.
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:51:45; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
Heh, last time I went up in anything that unwilling to start, the thing lost a few parts on the trip...
As the lift reaches the 4th level, Adrain nods at the opening doors and adds Good thing we didn't need the 'chutes this time.
So, right and... second left...
Stepping out and turning right, Adrian enters an corridor that seems a little better maintained than the ground floor.
[April 18th, 2072, 00:51:45; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
Heh, last time I went up in anything that unwilling to start, the thing lost a few parts on the trip...
As the lift reaches the 4th level, Adrain nods at the opening doors and adds Good thing we didn't need the 'chutes this time.
So, right and... second left...
Stepping out and turning right, Adrian enters an corridor that seems a little better maintained than the ground floor.
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 00:52:06; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
This close to a lead, Saint felt her pulse quicken. The realization of what this man could easily do to her with a slip of his hand came crashing down. They'd have to play this one cool, she'd have made her body weight in platinum-rated credsticks by now if things always went smooth, though. This just needed to go quick and clean, or she'd be showcasing an orange jumpsuit for awhile. The other possibilities she pushed to the back of her mind.
Following Sport's reiteration of the directions, she kept her eyes peeled for fire safety procedure signs, and her mind focused on alternate exit strategies. The clock was still ticking, and she had to take a few deep breaths before they stood in front of the medical examination room.
<<Can I get a twitch for good luck?>>
[April 17th, 2072, 00:52:06; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
This close to a lead, Saint felt her pulse quicken. The realization of what this man could easily do to her with a slip of his hand came crashing down. They'd have to play this one cool, she'd have made her body weight in platinum-rated credsticks by now if things always went smooth, though. This just needed to go quick and clean, or she'd be showcasing an orange jumpsuit for awhile. The other possibilities she pushed to the back of her mind.
Following Sport's reiteration of the directions, she kept her eyes peeled for fire safety procedure signs, and her mind focused on alternate exit strategies. The clock was still ticking, and she had to take a few deep breaths before they stood in front of the medical examination room.
<<Can I get a twitch for good luck?>>
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:23; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside 403]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
In response to Saint's message, Adrian's arms tremble for a moment and he starts rubbign them agaisnt each other as if he's having to fight to control them.
<<0800-RENT-A-TWITCH, at your service>>
I just hope this doesn't really turn into a habit.
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:23; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside 403]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
In response to Saint's message, Adrian's arms tremble for a moment and he starts rubbign them agaisnt each other as if he's having to fight to control them.
<<0800-RENT-A-TWITCH, at your service>>
I just hope this doesn't really turn into a habit.
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:23; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside 403]
The Door to the medical bay seems to be slightly more used than most but ironically in better condition despite the fact. Saint noticed several fading escape plans still hanging in their faded yellow covers by the intersection. The emergency lights were probably never a design factor that had been given much attention though as many of them were apparently missing from the brackets mounted on the walls and ceilings that would have normally housed them.
Written in neat block letters on a small placard midway up the door were the words, Doctor Maxwell Bailey Diagnostics.
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:23; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside 403]
The Door to the medical bay seems to be slightly more used than most but ironically in better condition despite the fact. Saint noticed several fading escape plans still hanging in their faded yellow covers by the intersection. The emergency lights were probably never a design factor that had been given much attention though as many of them were apparently missing from the brackets mounted on the walls and ceilings that would have normally housed them.
Written in neat block letters on a small placard midway up the door were the words, Doctor Maxwell Bailey Diagnostics.
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 17th, 2072, 21:20:53 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]
Jack thought long and hard about his answer. "Ok, I can easily set your guys up for a win...but I don't like losing, ever, for any reason. It looks bad on my record. I will agree, but as an added favor I want you to hook me up with some high stakes tournaments I don't have to lose."
Jack thought that would be fair since he'd have to make up the loss with additional games for the setback it may cost him to get invites to other games. Jack was tired of feeling played. He preferred games he could win, and his woman was seriously damaging his calm. He would be hard pressed to play a decent game of poker with his current mindset anyway. The sooner he got what he wanted from her the better. No hard feelings to Alexi, but his family tree needs some pruning. Hopefully this annoying chapter of his life was coming to a close.
Jack wanted to live and knew full well that the ability to defend himself would be a necessity soon. The events earlier had already displayed how ill prepared he was for life away from the corp. That didn't mean he had to like having his chain jerked around by someone who should be in a mental facility or retirement home or both.
[April 17th, 2072, 21:20:53 Крымские дворце (The Crimean Palace)]
[Quincy Mathews: PAN Passive][Jack Blades: PAN Hidden]
Jack thought long and hard about his answer. "Ok, I can easily set your guys up for a win...but I don't like losing, ever, for any reason. It looks bad on my record. I will agree, but as an added favor I want you to hook me up with some high stakes tournaments I don't have to lose."
Jack thought that would be fair since he'd have to make up the loss with additional games for the setback it may cost him to get invites to other games. Jack was tired of feeling played. He preferred games he could win, and his woman was seriously damaging his calm. He would be hard pressed to play a decent game of poker with his current mindset anyway. The sooner he got what he wanted from her the better. No hard feelings to Alexi, but his family tree needs some pruning. Hopefully this annoying chapter of his life was coming to a close.
Jack wanted to live and knew full well that the ability to defend himself would be a necessity soon. The events earlier had already displayed how ill prepared he was for life away from the corp. That didn't mean he had to like having his chain jerked around by someone who should be in a mental facility or retirement home or both.
Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
There’s a pause while Silk considers your words, “Let’s assume for now that this represents a secure research facility. It’s an old brick fire station on three floors, the majority of it being the garage, let’s assume that’s the main lab for the building and our target is in one of the upper rooms here…” and she gestures to the rotating three dimensional model projected in the air in front of you… “I’m sure we can fabricate a delivery service if you wanted to take that approach. Magical defences, let’s say a ward and watcher patrol with an on call mage? Sirene and Bale should be able to deal with that, distraction is probably the key, or looking like we belong. We can assume an armed guard presence and certainly drones on station…beyond that?”
She waves at your bullet points
“I will normally take point, it’s what I do…Bale will back me up and I think we ought to see how you do in the field and bring you along. Req can provide fire support as needed and Sirene will deal with the magical security as you suggested…we’ll leave you to work on the node for now. Anything else?”
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
There’s a pause while Silk considers your words, “Let’s assume for now that this represents a secure research facility. It’s an old brick fire station on three floors, the majority of it being the garage, let’s assume that’s the main lab for the building and our target is in one of the upper rooms here…” and she gestures to the rotating three dimensional model projected in the air in front of you… “I’m sure we can fabricate a delivery service if you wanted to take that approach. Magical defences, let’s say a ward and watcher patrol with an on call mage? Sirene and Bale should be able to deal with that, distraction is probably the key, or looking like we belong. We can assume an armed guard presence and certainly drones on station…beyond that?”
She waves at your bullet points
“I will normally take point, it’s what I do…Bale will back me up and I think we ought to see how you do in the field and bring you along. Req can provide fire support as needed and Sirene will deal with the magical security as you suggested…we’ll leave you to work on the node for now. Anything else?”
Balefire / Fractal
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
"I think that's the basics for now. We are lacking so much knowledge. I will go dig up what I can, and we can talk at lunch time tomorrow?"
Fractal is already thinking about what he's going to do, and packing up his holodisplay, part of his mind already reaching out to see if this place has a Matrix node he can access remotely, or if this is going to take a more personal touch. He seems to be almost sleepwalking, as he makes his way back to the cot set aside for him.
[May 09th, 2072; Safehouse, SE 6th St, Bellevue]
"I think that's the basics for now. We are lacking so much knowledge. I will go dig up what I can, and we can talk at lunch time tomorrow?"
Fractal is already thinking about what he's going to do, and packing up his holodisplay, part of his mind already reaching out to see if this place has a Matrix node he can access remotely, or if this is going to take a more personal touch. He seems to be almost sleepwalking, as he makes his way back to the cot set aside for him.
@E:PL Chicago / Ælias
[July 7th, 2072, 8:26 PM; O’Hare Airport, Chi Town]
As you step out of the air conditioned foyer you immediately feel the change in the air from the soggy dampness of Seattle. The wind is blowing crisply from the East and is refreshing to the senses, even if you are well aware that it will be as laden with pollutants as the air back home.
Nobody has questioned your credentials and you passed through security with ease. There are two messages awaiting your attention, one from Inbus indicating that your gear is en-route and will arrive as scheduled at twenty three hundred hours on a drop off point on the shore of the lake, and the second from Argent requesting that you meet your fellow travellers at Fawkes Bizarre tomorrow morning at ten.
Now you just have some time to soak up the sights of one of the most notorious grey zones in the whole of the UCAS…there should be plenty of local flavour to keep you occupied until your meet…the Corridor beacons.
@E:PL Chicago / Copperhead
[July 7th, 2072, 8:51 PM; Somewhere on the Corridor, Chicago]
Four fragging days you’ve been hanging about waiting for the others that are to be joining you on this little jaunt. If there was some urgency then why the hell didn’t you go in sooner with local talent? Ah well, presumably Argent and your Johnson knew what they were about. At least its colourful here, with plenty to see a do with always that hint of feral danger to keep the nerves tingling! So, Fawkes Bizarre tomorrow morning and a meeting with a Jess, apparently muscle, Erebus, another mage by all accounts, and your hacker support Ælias…hopefully Dealer would be back from whatever errand pulled him away so suddenly…
@E:PL Chicago / Erebus
[July 7th, 2072, 10:32 PM; En-route to Chicago]
You’ve heard of flying under the radar but this is ridiculous. When you’d agreed to this job, in desperation admittedly, you hadn’t really considered how you were going to get to Chicago. Now you are crammed into a hold too small for a human with a re-breather strapped to your face and a thermal blanket to make up for the fact that there is zero life support in here and you suspect you were bloody high until a precipitous plummet hurtles you towards the ground…bloody riggers! A packing case shifts and digs into your ribs, only your arms keeping you in place stop you being bashed into paste. You silently vow never to fly Technicolour Wings again…
A message appears on your comm
<<Arrival at 23:00 as anticipated. We’ll be flying low for the rest of the trip and it might get a bit bumpy back there…>>
@E:PL Chicago / Joe/Jess
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; En-route to Chicago]
The toothy smuggler leers at you once again and you vaguely wish for the anonymity of commercial travel. With the amount of ‘ware that you are sporting it is only usually at the behest of a corp that you get to travel in comfort…otherwise you need to make do. Although this particular fixer, Argent, can afford your fees, corporate she is not.
The trip to Chicago has been uneventful and you have mostly zoned it out. Now you have some time before you need to make it to a meet at Fawkes Bizarre tomorrow morning…
[July 7th, 2072, 8:26 PM; O’Hare Airport, Chi Town]
As you step out of the air conditioned foyer you immediately feel the change in the air from the soggy dampness of Seattle. The wind is blowing crisply from the East and is refreshing to the senses, even if you are well aware that it will be as laden with pollutants as the air back home.
Nobody has questioned your credentials and you passed through security with ease. There are two messages awaiting your attention, one from Inbus indicating that your gear is en-route and will arrive as scheduled at twenty three hundred hours on a drop off point on the shore of the lake, and the second from Argent requesting that you meet your fellow travellers at Fawkes Bizarre tomorrow morning at ten.
Now you just have some time to soak up the sights of one of the most notorious grey zones in the whole of the UCAS…there should be plenty of local flavour to keep you occupied until your meet…the Corridor beacons.
@E:PL Chicago / Copperhead
[July 7th, 2072, 8:51 PM; Somewhere on the Corridor, Chicago]
Four fragging days you’ve been hanging about waiting for the others that are to be joining you on this little jaunt. If there was some urgency then why the hell didn’t you go in sooner with local talent? Ah well, presumably Argent and your Johnson knew what they were about. At least its colourful here, with plenty to see a do with always that hint of feral danger to keep the nerves tingling! So, Fawkes Bizarre tomorrow morning and a meeting with a Jess, apparently muscle, Erebus, another mage by all accounts, and your hacker support Ælias…hopefully Dealer would be back from whatever errand pulled him away so suddenly…
@E:PL Chicago / Erebus
[July 7th, 2072, 10:32 PM; En-route to Chicago]
You’ve heard of flying under the radar but this is ridiculous. When you’d agreed to this job, in desperation admittedly, you hadn’t really considered how you were going to get to Chicago. Now you are crammed into a hold too small for a human with a re-breather strapped to your face and a thermal blanket to make up for the fact that there is zero life support in here and you suspect you were bloody high until a precipitous plummet hurtles you towards the ground…bloody riggers! A packing case shifts and digs into your ribs, only your arms keeping you in place stop you being bashed into paste. You silently vow never to fly Technicolour Wings again…
A message appears on your comm
<<Arrival at 23:00 as anticipated. We’ll be flying low for the rest of the trip and it might get a bit bumpy back there…>>
@E:PL Chicago / Joe/Jess
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; En-route to Chicago]
The toothy smuggler leers at you once again and you vaguely wish for the anonymity of commercial travel. With the amount of ‘ware that you are sporting it is only usually at the behest of a corp that you get to travel in comfort…otherwise you need to make do. Although this particular fixer, Argent, can afford your fees, corporate she is not.
The trip to Chicago has been uneventful and you have mostly zoned it out. Now you have some time before you need to make it to a meet at Fawkes Bizarre tomorrow morning…
@E:PL UK / Gemeaux & Mr Hill
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
Having breezed through customs and other bureaucratic red tape, this being the UK it wasn’t possible to avoid it altogether, with minimal fuss, your transport dropped you off a few miles away outside a small brick chapel and an octagonal church of a more modern appearance (at least modern in the last century). You are greeted by a sharply dressed black orc called Charlie who informs you that he will be your driver for the sabbatical at Rosslyn. You are promptly invited in for a cup of tea before preparing yourselves for the continuation of your journey. Another assistant offers to transfer your bags to the waiting saloon whilst you refresh yourselves. After the quiet then it is somewhat disturbing when Charlie comes back to you in a bit of a lather
“Father, I have just been informed that the matrix node has been compromised. It may be nothing, but so soon after your arrival I wouldn’t want to leave anything to chance…are you prepared to move on?”
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
Having breezed through customs and other bureaucratic red tape, this being the UK it wasn’t possible to avoid it altogether, with minimal fuss, your transport dropped you off a few miles away outside a small brick chapel and an octagonal church of a more modern appearance (at least modern in the last century). You are greeted by a sharply dressed black orc called Charlie who informs you that he will be your driver for the sabbatical at Rosslyn. You are promptly invited in for a cup of tea before preparing yourselves for the continuation of your journey. Another assistant offers to transfer your bags to the waiting saloon whilst you refresh yourselves. After the quiet then it is somewhat disturbing when Charlie comes back to you in a bit of a lather
“Father, I have just been informed that the matrix node has been compromised. It may be nothing, but so soon after your arrival I wouldn’t want to leave anything to chance…are you prepared to move on?”
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:30; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside/inside 403]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
She chuckled, she needed it. Now or never. She pushed open the door, ready as she'd ever be.
Saint peered into the room, donning her hooker guise once more. "Dr. Bailey? I'm your new appointment, hope you're ready for me." Her tone was casual, if not a little suggestive, it went with the territory.
It took a few more steps, and she was past the point of no return.
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:30; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside/inside 403]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman
She chuckled, she needed it. Now or never. She pushed open the door, ready as she'd ever be.
Saint peered into the room, donning her hooker guise once more. "Dr. Bailey? I'm your new appointment, hope you're ready for me." Her tone was casual, if not a little suggestive, it went with the territory.
It took a few more steps, and she was past the point of no return.
@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Gemeaux arcs an eyebrow at Charlie's revelation, and turns to Anselm.
"I am ready to leave if necessary, but I can take a look around outside if you like."
In a quiet aside to Monsieur Hill, "Could this be the work of our guest?"
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Gemeaux arcs an eyebrow at Charlie's revelation, and turns to Anselm.
"I am ready to leave if necessary, but I can take a look around outside if you like."
In a quiet aside to Monsieur Hill, "Could this be the work of our guest?"
@Aria:PL Chicago / Erebos
[July 7th, 2072, 10:32 PM; En-route to Chicago]
<<Arrival at 23:00 as anticipated. We’ll be flying low for the rest of the trip and it might get a bit bumpy back there…>>
He said it was an easy job... Not that Erebos believed him. He said it would only take a week... Right, a trip to Chicago. The delivery would be easy, the customer was well know in those parts. Sure, everyone knows the two-bit drug dealer pushing lace on the street corners. He said the job would buy him (and more importantly, Jacob) a thirty day reprieve... So it was off to see 'The Wizard of 35th street' ...
As the craft descended, a little voice in the back of his mind started whispering... You do kind of look like a bug you know... and you are on a plane to ... Chicago...
[July 7th, 2072, 10:32 PM; En-route to Chicago]
<<Arrival at 23:00 as anticipated. We’ll be flying low for the rest of the trip and it might get a bit bumpy back there…>>
He said it was an easy job... Not that Erebos believed him. He said it would only take a week... Right, a trip to Chicago. The delivery would be easy, the customer was well know in those parts. Sure, everyone knows the two-bit drug dealer pushing lace on the street corners. He said the job would buy him (and more importantly, Jacob) a thirty day reprieve... So it was off to see 'The Wizard of 35th street' ...
As the craft descended, a little voice in the back of his mind started whispering... You do kind of look like a bug you know... and you are on a plane to ... Chicago...
@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:35; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside / inside 403]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
Into the lion's den with a chuckle.
Following Saint, Adrian enters the office behind her.
Deciding to better let her do the talking, he just gives the doctor a nod; and the office a good look.
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:35; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside / inside 403]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor
Into the lion's den with a chuckle.
Following Saint, Adrian enters the office behind her.
Deciding to better let her do the talking, he just gives the doctor a nod; and the office a good look.
@E:PL
[July 3rd, 2072, 10:46 PM; Cheap motel, Chicago]
Copperhead dumps the pile of gear on the bed and lets out a long breath that she feels she has been holding forever. She is still trembling with adrenaline from her encounter with the hyped up ganger that had tried to rob her on her way back from the market.
Jeez, I should have seen that coming.
She had been distracted by two incoming messages. The first was from Dealer saying he had some urgent biz to deal with and would be back in touch in a couple of days. He was terse at the best of times but she had felt he was slowly opening up to her, so this sudden brief message had her worried. The second message was the time and location for the meet; 10 AM on the 8th at somewhere called Fawkes Bizarre. She was internally fuming about having to stay in the shitty hotel for at least another four days and as a result hadn't immediately noticed the skinny ganger until he had the heavy pistol practically stuffed in her face.
She could tell he was on something, possibly a lot of somethings. With her arms full of gear, casting or cutting him was going to be a problem and there was no way she could reach the Enfield in time. So she had simply talked to him. When he realised that short of killing her, his chances of getting away with all her stuff were limited, he had negotiated down to half a case of only slightly expired C-rations, a carton of cigarettes she had picked up for barter in the zone and the refills for her medkit. He had been particularly interested in those. Then he was gone.
She slumps down on the bed and starts sorting through the gear and packing it into the smarpack she had bought to hold it all. Rations, water bottles and purification tablets, sleeping bag and tent.
Not sure I need the tent, should be plenty of abandoned building for cover.
She tests the weight of the smartpack and shrugs.
Guess it's not that heavy.
Ths simple act of sorting through the stuff is enough to calm her down. Once finished she strips out of her armor and cracks one of the C-rations. It's bland but hot, which is better than some of the meals she's eaten in the Barrens. She calls Cutter but doesn't tell him about her run-in with the ganger, partly because he would worry about her, but mainly because she's too embarrased to tell him that she got caught out like that. Then Snake is there and it's time for magic class.
[July 3rd, 2072, 10:46 PM; Cheap motel, Chicago]
Copperhead dumps the pile of gear on the bed and lets out a long breath that she feels she has been holding forever. She is still trembling with adrenaline from her encounter with the hyped up ganger that had tried to rob her on her way back from the market.
Jeez, I should have seen that coming.
She had been distracted by two incoming messages. The first was from Dealer saying he had some urgent biz to deal with and would be back in touch in a couple of days. He was terse at the best of times but she had felt he was slowly opening up to her, so this sudden brief message had her worried. The second message was the time and location for the meet; 10 AM on the 8th at somewhere called Fawkes Bizarre. She was internally fuming about having to stay in the shitty hotel for at least another four days and as a result hadn't immediately noticed the skinny ganger until he had the heavy pistol practically stuffed in her face.
She could tell he was on something, possibly a lot of somethings. With her arms full of gear, casting or cutting him was going to be a problem and there was no way she could reach the Enfield in time. So she had simply talked to him. When he realised that short of killing her, his chances of getting away with all her stuff were limited, he had negotiated down to half a case of only slightly expired C-rations, a carton of cigarettes she had picked up for barter in the zone and the refills for her medkit. He had been particularly interested in those. Then he was gone.
She slumps down on the bed and starts sorting through the gear and packing it into the smarpack she had bought to hold it all. Rations, water bottles and purification tablets, sleeping bag and tent.
Not sure I need the tent, should be plenty of abandoned building for cover.
She tests the weight of the smartpack and shrugs.
Guess it's not that heavy.
Ths simple act of sorting through the stuff is enough to calm her down. Once finished she strips out of her armor and cracks one of the C-rations. It's bland but hot, which is better than some of the meals she's eaten in the Barrens. She calls Cutter but doesn't tell him about her run-in with the ganger, partly because he would worry about her, but mainly because she's too embarrased to tell him that she got caught out like that. Then Snake is there and it's time for magic class.
@E:PL
[July 8th, 2072, 08:15 AM; Cheap motel, Chicago]
The beeping of her commlink's alarm pulls her slowly from sleep. She is not an early bird, in fact she dislikes being up and about at all during the day. Eyes squinting against the bright light seeping through grubby, faded curtains, she drags herself from the lumpy bed and puts on her game face. The water is cold today but that helps her wake up.
She washes, dresses then applies makeup and sunblock - it looks like it's going to be hot and sunny and she while her skin may be tough, it gets sunburnt easily. She decides against the armor for the meet, settling for just her cyberpirate outfit of bra-top and hotpants worn under a sleeveless armored duster. Large, oversized sunglasses complete the look as well as protecting her eyes from the glare. She checks herself out in the bathroom's cracked mirror before heading back to the market, which she only learned yesterday was actually called Fawkes Bizarre when she had asked the slimy toad of a concierge for directions.
No wonder the place had seemed to have more than it''s fair share of shadow-types
Stepping out of the hotel, she immediately seeks the shadows as she makes her way to the meet. Not in any attempt to be stealthy or inconspicuous, simply to stay out of the sun.
[July 8th, 2072, 08:15 AM; Cheap motel, Chicago]
The beeping of her commlink's alarm pulls her slowly from sleep. She is not an early bird, in fact she dislikes being up and about at all during the day. Eyes squinting against the bright light seeping through grubby, faded curtains, she drags herself from the lumpy bed and puts on her game face. The water is cold today but that helps her wake up.
She washes, dresses then applies makeup and sunblock - it looks like it's going to be hot and sunny and she while her skin may be tough, it gets sunburnt easily. She decides against the armor for the meet, settling for just her cyberpirate outfit of bra-top and hotpants worn under a sleeveless armored duster. Large, oversized sunglasses complete the look as well as protecting her eyes from the glare. She checks herself out in the bathroom's cracked mirror before heading back to the market, which she only learned yesterday was actually called Fawkes Bizarre when she had asked the slimy toad of a concierge for directions.
No wonder the place had seemed to have more than it''s fair share of shadow-types
Stepping out of the hotel, she immediately seeks the shadows as she makes her way to the meet. Not in any attempt to be stealthy or inconspicuous, simply to stay out of the sun.
@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
SIN: Spencer Lovett
I might as well be in a different country entirely, Mordred thought as he stared through the bus window. He saw people, buildings, and vehicles flow by, none of them familiar. Was it because he had been gone so long? Did fifteen years make that much of a difference? Or perhaps the country had always been this way. Maybe he had just forgotten that. Maybe he was the one who had changed. Quietly, Mordred laughed at himself. Talk about corny. And he was sure that line had come from an old song.
He got off the bus, stretched, and began walking.
Not that he had planned this visit. Mordred would have been content to let many more years pass before he returned to the UK. Too many bad memories, not to mention a "family" he didn't particularly feel like talking to (with one exception). But he needed work, and Argent had a job for him. The adept reached into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, removing his commlink and checking the time. Good. He should make it to the church just on time.
In addition to the sweatshirt, Mordred had a t-shirt and jeans on. The outfit was intended to hide the armor he was wearing underneath. A duffel bag hung from his shoulder, containing guns, ammunition and various tools, the necessary equipment for an individual of his talents. The adept himself was tall, with blue eyes and messy brown hair.
Mordred stopped at the front door of the church and knocked. Better that he not drop in uninvited.
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
SIN: Spencer Lovett
I might as well be in a different country entirely, Mordred thought as he stared through the bus window. He saw people, buildings, and vehicles flow by, none of them familiar. Was it because he had been gone so long? Did fifteen years make that much of a difference? Or perhaps the country had always been this way. Maybe he had just forgotten that. Maybe he was the one who had changed. Quietly, Mordred laughed at himself. Talk about corny. And he was sure that line had come from an old song.
He got off the bus, stretched, and began walking.
Not that he had planned this visit. Mordred would have been content to let many more years pass before he returned to the UK. Too many bad memories, not to mention a "family" he didn't particularly feel like talking to (with one exception). But he needed work, and Argent had a job for him. The adept reached into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, removing his commlink and checking the time. Good. He should make it to the church just on time.
In addition to the sweatshirt, Mordred had a t-shirt and jeans on. The outfit was intended to hide the armor he was wearing underneath. A duffel bag hung from his shoulder, containing guns, ammunition and various tools, the necessary equipment for an individual of his talents. The adept himself was tall, with blue eyes and messy brown hair.
Mordred stopped at the front door of the church and knocked. Better that he not drop in uninvited.
@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada
The woman appears around the corner of Kings and Connaught. England had relatively decent weather, generally not too cold or too hot, if it wasn't too dreary or rainy. It's still May, so that garnered some sunshine. So, unless something else unnatural is going on in today's weather, Tsubaki is wearing a beige, long sweater coat that is closed at only one button over her chest. The delicate material hanging free and loosely on her form, the rest of the length opens downward and behind her, sweeping outward at the back of her legs. She is dressed in comfy layers of cotton and other breathable natural fibers over a trendy belt and light-colored jeans with soft leather boots on her feet.
Tsubaki enjoyed travelling when she could. When Mei Feng had mentioned about the little excursion to her at the beginning, Tsubaki was interested, to say at least. She rather enjoyed visiting this part of Europe for the time being. Fixing her silver gaze ahead, her shoes make gentle tapping steps across the pavement, she is approaching the church entrance where there appears to be an individual already there and knocking at the door.
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada
The woman appears around the corner of Kings and Connaught. England had relatively decent weather, generally not too cold or too hot, if it wasn't too dreary or rainy. It's still May, so that garnered some sunshine. So, unless something else unnatural is going on in today's weather, Tsubaki is wearing a beige, long sweater coat that is closed at only one button over her chest. The delicate material hanging free and loosely on her form, the rest of the length opens downward and behind her, sweeping outward at the back of her legs. She is dressed in comfy layers of cotton and other breathable natural fibers over a trendy belt and light-colored jeans with soft leather boots on her feet.
Tsubaki enjoyed travelling when she could. When Mei Feng had mentioned about the little excursion to her at the beginning, Tsubaki was interested, to say at least. She rather enjoyed visiting this part of Europe for the time being. Fixing her silver gaze ahead, her shoes make gentle tapping steps across the pavement, she is approaching the church entrance where there appears to be an individual already there and knocking at the door.
@E:PL Chicago
[July 7th, 2072, 8:53 PM; Northside Corridor, Chi Town
Commlink PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons
It took a minute to get his baggage from the claims wheel, and a few stares (but his credentials named him a field journalist, so no one questioned him), and then into one of the many taxis waiting outside the Airport. It took a few extra nuyen to get him as far into Northside as the driver dared, which was surprisingly half the distance he needed to get the lake's edge.
Hauling his pack onto his shoulder, Ælias checked his Scout in it's holster in his coat (the security barely blinked at the little thing when he declared it, saying something about bigger pieces on housewives as he walked past), and started on towards the lake. The mapsoft he grabbed at SeaTAC (35 after airport inflation, but with this program came with an optional subscription service for auto updates, a simple spoof for him, and that made him feel secure for as long as he had Matrix access) showed that he was just past the I-90, I-94 interchange, and that he had about 4 miles of city street to cover due east to the Lake. His little Aztechnology Crawler kept up beside him, scanning around them as it walked beside Ælias. With his goggles on, respirator at the ready around his neck, pack on his back (his satellite link set up on the top, a fiberoptic cable running down to his skinlinked commlink), and lizard drone at his side, he nearly looked the part of a CZ resident, minus a dozen layers of dirt, grime, and soot. He pulled a Snuff cigarette from his pack and started east, taking lazy drags from the joint and keeping his eyes and other senses open for danger.
[July 7th, 2072, 8:53 PM; Northside Corridor, Chi Town
Commlink PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons
It took a minute to get his baggage from the claims wheel, and a few stares (but his credentials named him a field journalist, so no one questioned him), and then into one of the many taxis waiting outside the Airport. It took a few extra nuyen to get him as far into Northside as the driver dared, which was surprisingly half the distance he needed to get the lake's edge.
Hauling his pack onto his shoulder, Ælias checked his Scout in it's holster in his coat (the security barely blinked at the little thing when he declared it, saying something about bigger pieces on housewives as he walked past), and started on towards the lake. The mapsoft he grabbed at SeaTAC (35
after airport inflation, but with this program came with an optional subscription service for auto updates, a simple spoof for him, and that made him feel secure for as long as he had Matrix access) showed that he was just past the I-90, I-94 interchange, and that he had about 4 miles of city street to cover due east to the Lake. His little Aztechnology Crawler kept up beside him, scanning around them as it walked beside Ælias. With his goggles on, respirator at the ready around his neck, pack on his back (his satellite link set up on the top, a fiberoptic cable running down to his skinlinked commlink), and lizard drone at his side, he nearly looked the part of a CZ resident, minus a dozen layers of dirt, grime, and soot. He pulled a Snuff cigarette from his pack and started east, taking lazy drags from the joint and keeping his eyes and other senses open for danger.
@E:PL Chicago
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; En-route to Chicago]
Although it had only been a year she was more than used to the leering her new form induced, and had learned to get all she could out of it. While not the most comfortable journey, the look she gave the captain while boarding ensured that she certainly travelled a lot better than anyone else would have in this situation. Besides, she had gotten used to the travelling. It's all part of the job. Travelling commercially just means burning through more IDs unnecessarily.
As she prepared to disembark she decided it would be useful to start planning an out. A bit of light flirting scored her the commcode of a smuggler more than willing to make a risky z-zone pickup if needs be. Sometimes it was too easy.
She'd got the whole night before the meet, and she didn't need a whole lot of sleep. Time to take in some of the local 'culture'
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; En-route to Chicago]
Although it had only been a year she was more than used to the leering her new form induced, and had learned to get all she could out of it. While not the most comfortable journey, the look she gave the captain while boarding ensured that she certainly travelled a lot better than anyone else would have in this situation. Besides, she had gotten used to the travelling. It's all part of the job. Travelling commercially just means burning through more IDs unnecessarily.
As she prepared to disembark she decided it would be useful to start planning an out. A bit of light flirting scored her the commcode of a smuggler more than willing to make a risky z-zone pickup if needs be. Sometimes it was too easy.
She'd got the whole night before the meet, and she didn't need a whole lot of sleep. Time to take in some of the local 'culture'
@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Not waiting for Mr. Hill to answer, Gemeaux glides over to Charlie and stands alongside him.
"If you do not mind, I will take a quick look around the area. As I am the hired muscle for this sojourn, it would behoove me to play that part, oui? I shall not be more than a moment, but I would ask that you let your congregation know that the man in the jacket with the chameleoned Walther MA-2100 is on your side."
He takes quick strides to his luggage, opening one suitcase and gently taking out the joyau de la couronne of his weapon collection---Le Dernier Mot. While he often employs the other aspects of his arsenal, this is the one gun he uses to finish most of his wetwork. It has provided the last touch on many a manslaughter masterpiece, both from a distance and in close range.
<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, please switch to combat mode: wires on and weapons free.>>
<<[Vivienne]: Understood, Damien. Bringing your systems online right now. Safeties are off, smartgun systems are active, and your sniper rifle's chameleon coating is syncing with the background light scatter. Are you in trouble?>>
<<[Gemeaux]: Not yet, my dear, but I do not want to take any chances. No man may master Fortune. When she loves you she is wonderful, but when she spurns you...she is horrid.>>
Gemeaux slips on his goggles and goes over to a window at a side exit of the church. Carefully, he peers out of the window. Then he slips stealthily out of the church and begins walking about the church, searching for a hint of potential danger...
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Not waiting for Mr. Hill to answer, Gemeaux glides over to Charlie and stands alongside him.
"If you do not mind, I will take a quick look around the area. As I am the hired muscle for this sojourn, it would behoove me to play that part, oui? I shall not be more than a moment, but I would ask that you let your congregation know that the man in the jacket with the chameleoned Walther MA-2100 is on your side."
He takes quick strides to his luggage, opening one suitcase and gently taking out the joyau de la couronne of his weapon collection---Le Dernier Mot. While he often employs the other aspects of his arsenal, this is the one gun he uses to finish most of his wetwork. It has provided the last touch on many a manslaughter masterpiece, both from a distance and in close range.
<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, please switch to combat mode: wires on and weapons free.>>
<<[Vivienne]: Understood, Damien. Bringing your systems online right now. Safeties are off, smartgun systems are active, and your sniper rifle's chameleon coating is syncing with the background light scatter. Are you in trouble?>>
<<[Gemeaux]: Not yet, my dear, but I do not want to take any chances. No man may master Fortune. When she loves you she is wonderful, but when she spurns you...she is horrid.>>
Gemeaux slips on his goggles and goes over to a window at a side exit of the church. Carefully, he peers out of the window. Then he slips stealthily out of the church and begins walking about the church, searching for a hint of potential danger...
E:PL/UK Gemeaux
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
You slip out of the church like a ghost, taking care to stick to the shadows cast by the weak May sunlight. A figure has approached the main doors to the church and is brazenly knocking…Charlie opens the door…
E:PL/UK Mordred
At your knock a slightly flustered, suited black orc with brightly polished tusks opens the heavy timber door and stares at you in incomprehension. You feel a rush of wind and moments later hear a dull crack and the orc disappears back into the church with a surprised look on his face.
E:PL/UK Tsubaki
The gunshot was silenced but unmistakable…things are about to get interesting…
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
You slip out of the church like a ghost, taking care to stick to the shadows cast by the weak May sunlight. A figure has approached the main doors to the church and is brazenly knocking…Charlie opens the door…
E:PL/UK Mordred
At your knock a slightly flustered, suited black orc with brightly polished tusks opens the heavy timber door and stares at you in incomprehension. You feel a rush of wind and moments later hear a dull crack and the orc disappears back into the church with a surprised look on his face.
E:PL/UK Tsubaki
The gunshot was silenced but unmistakable…things are about to get interesting…
Mordred turned around, hearing Tsubaki's footsteps.
Was she here for services? Or for the same reason he was? Either way, he decided to try entering the church. There was the possibility that the people thought he was an intruder. And it just wouldn't sit right with him to expose a stranger to possible harm.
His hand had not quite touched the doorknob when things got out of hand. Mordred straightened his arm, allowing the attached mechanism to deposit a pistol into his waiting hand. "Get down!" He shouted at the woman. The adept ran for cover, pulling Tsubaki along. His eyes darted around, looking for the shooter.
Was she here for services? Or for the same reason he was? Either way, he decided to try entering the church. There was the possibility that the people thought he was an intruder. And it just wouldn't sit right with him to expose a stranger to possible harm.
His hand had not quite touched the doorknob when things got out of hand. Mordred straightened his arm, allowing the attached mechanism to deposit a pistol into his waiting hand. "Get down!" He shouted at the woman. The adept ran for cover, pulling Tsubaki along. His eyes darted around, looking for the shooter.
@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada
As the door to the church opens, Tsubaki is greeted by the appearance of a well-dressed orc. She is about to allow herself inside when—
BLAM!
The silver-haired woman's face goes into an immediate flinching of the eyes. What...? There is the instinctual turning of the body and the casting of a glance over her shoulder, but instead she looks there only to be blindsided at the corner of her eye—
—and carried away by the arm beside a green hedge and behind the side of the church building. The appearance of a pistol in the stranger's other hand doesn't go unnoticed. Tsubaki lays her hand around the wrist that belongs to the hand that firmly grips the her arm and waits to feel the man finally decide to separate it from her. By the hesitant darting of the man's blue eyes, Tsubaki figures he gathers just as much as she does about the surprising turn of events. The woman presses her lips together into a thin line. Best to ask questions later, then...
She remains by the blue-eyed stranger very quietly. Hmm... All the while the man is distracted with searching the area for details, Tsubaki will idly tie the two drawstrings to the man's hoodie sweatshirt together into a knot and bow at his chest. Perfect. Better the drawstrings to the sweatshirt than the laces on his shoes, right?
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada
As the door to the church opens, Tsubaki is greeted by the appearance of a well-dressed orc. She is about to allow herself inside when—
BLAM!
The silver-haired woman's face goes into an immediate flinching of the eyes. What...? There is the instinctual turning of the body and the casting of a glance over her shoulder, but instead she looks there only to be blindsided at the corner of her eye—
QUOTE (RdMarquis @ Feb 3 2012, 06:25 PM) 
"Get down!" He shouted at the woman.
—and carried away by the arm beside a green hedge and behind the side of the church building. The appearance of a pistol in the stranger's other hand doesn't go unnoticed. Tsubaki lays her hand around the wrist that belongs to the hand that firmly grips the her arm and waits to feel the man finally decide to separate it from her. By the hesitant darting of the man's blue eyes, Tsubaki figures he gathers just as much as she does about the surprising turn of events. The woman presses her lips together into a thin line. Best to ask questions later, then...
She remains by the blue-eyed stranger very quietly. Hmm... All the while the man is distracted with searching the area for details, Tsubaki will idly tie the two drawstrings to the man's hoodie sweatshirt together into a knot and bow at his chest. Perfect. Better the drawstrings to the sweatshirt than the laces on his shoes, right?
@E:PL/Chi Town / Ælias & Erebus
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; Northern Corridor Docks, Chicago]
Inbus is waiting for you. In the flesh he’s a bedraggled, almost emaciated looking elf with a burning need of a wash. You know, however, that physical appearances are not what matters when it comes to pushing a craft at mach three across a number of state borders without the inconvenience of a customs inspection…
E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:23 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
The place is lively, even more so than any other shadow enclave you’ve ever been to. It makes the Crime Mall in Puyallup look positively tame by comparison. There’s a strange mix here of survivalist types rubbing shoulders with street leathered gangers and professionally dressed corp soldiers. The goods on sale range almost as much but the one thing they have in common is a robustness…delicate electronics aren’t much use without a Tuff™ casing and the venerable AK or pump shotgun doesn’t even need to bother with those…batteries definitely not included!
This is Horde territory as is evidenced by the large number of orcs here…but for you that just means that nobody is likely to make trouble, or otherwise upset business. Fawkes himself greets you as you wander through the various stalls…it seems like he has been inspecting you. He’s almost as colourful as his establishment, a giant of an orc with ebony skin and a gleaming white mane of hair. His tusks are capped with engraved silver gewgaws and they are clamped around a massive pipe that exudes a pungent odour of something more than tobacco.
“This way, this way, Argent said you would be coming today. How is the old witch…?”
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; Northern Corridor Docks, Chicago]
Inbus is waiting for you. In the flesh he’s a bedraggled, almost emaciated looking elf with a burning need of a wash. You know, however, that physical appearances are not what matters when it comes to pushing a craft at mach three across a number of state borders without the inconvenience of a customs inspection…
E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:23 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
The place is lively, even more so than any other shadow enclave you’ve ever been to. It makes the Crime Mall in Puyallup look positively tame by comparison. There’s a strange mix here of survivalist types rubbing shoulders with street leathered gangers and professionally dressed corp soldiers. The goods on sale range almost as much but the one thing they have in common is a robustness…delicate electronics aren’t much use without a Tuff™ casing and the venerable AK or pump shotgun doesn’t even need to bother with those…batteries definitely not included!
This is Horde territory as is evidenced by the large number of orcs here…but for you that just means that nobody is likely to make trouble, or otherwise upset business. Fawkes himself greets you as you wander through the various stalls…it seems like he has been inspecting you. He’s almost as colourful as his establishment, a giant of an orc with ebony skin and a gleaming white mane of hair. His tusks are capped with engraved silver gewgaws and they are clamped around a massive pipe that exudes a pungent odour of something more than tobacco.
“This way, this way, Argent said you would be coming today. How is the old witch…?”
E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons
Ælias strolls along the bazaar, his long hair shaggier than usual, small bits of it braided with small beads worked in. The color of his face and neck were quite a few shades darker than their usual pale tone, and the nanopaste he wore created small pock marks in his cheeks and a distinct ridge above his left eyebrow. He wore his gear from the day before, his now returned Predator holstered at his side. His commlink was strapped to his left wrist, wireless off, with a fiberoptic cable running up his sleeve to datajack on his left temple, actually a trode disguised as a fake datajack, a simple disguise that also granted him a connection to the disposable link on his wrist. He was Walter Simmons, a hacker slash part time journalist, a gruff ork with an eye for action.
"She'z doin' well. Don't see her much outside da 'Trix, though, so wadda I know?" Ælias answers the other ork with a laugh. He sounds generally mirthful, though his eyes move around constantly, watching the people around him, always on the look out for trouble.
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons
Ælias strolls along the bazaar, his long hair shaggier than usual, small bits of it braided with small beads worked in. The color of his face and neck were quite a few shades darker than their usual pale tone, and the nanopaste he wore created small pock marks in his cheeks and a distinct ridge above his left eyebrow. He wore his gear from the day before, his now returned Predator holstered at his side. His commlink was strapped to his left wrist, wireless off, with a fiberoptic cable running up his sleeve to datajack on his left temple, actually a trode disguised as a fake datajack, a simple disguise that also granted him a connection to the disposable link on his wrist. He was Walter Simmons, a hacker slash part time journalist, a gruff ork with an eye for action.
"She'z doin' well. Don't see her much outside da 'Trix, though, so wadda I know?" Ælias answers the other ork with a laugh. He sounds generally mirthful, though his eyes move around constantly, watching the people around him, always on the look out for trouble.
@E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Charlotte Church
Copperhead is hot and sweaty and, despite her over-sized sunglasses, is developing a pounding headache from squinting against the glare. The local ork gangers are out in force but when she asks them about Fawkes, they all parrot the same response: You don't find Fawkes, he finds you. So she wanders the stalls, staying in the shade as much as possible.
At a stall selling army fatigues, she negotiates with the tiny asian for a 'genuine' UCAS jungle cap. She grins at the asian's feigned shock when she asks if he has any 'genuine' UCAS jungle cap knock-offs at a better price and they barter back and forth over a few yen before agreeing on a price. As she is adjusting the cap in the mirror next to the stall, she spots the two orks heading her way. The black one must be Fawkes. He walks like he owns the place. The other one she doesn't recognize.
She makes a final adjustment to the cap and turns to face them. She catches the flaps of her long coat with steel fingers and draws it back, planting her fists on her hips and letting them get a good look at her. Her scaled arms gleam in the sunlight and her pale torso and legs are also ridged with the scales of her dermal armor. A keen eye can even see the pattern of the scales through the bright green sports bra and cycle shorts which is all she seems to be wearing under the coat.
At the two close on her, her face darkens at the mention of Argent and the ork's off-hand remark. A forked tongue tastes the air between gritted teeth.
"Oh yeah, ssshe's doin' real well for sssomeone who recently sssurvived two attemptss on her life and whosse man ended up a greassy sssmear on da tarmac coz a some fraggin' corper. At least he won't be trying ta off her againssss." she hisses at Ælias.
Calm, child. You sshould not reveal your ssecretss sso eassily.
She rolls her neck, cracking it to ease the sudden tension in her shoulders.
Sorry mama. Frag, I thought I was over that business.
Turning back to Fawkes, she holds out a large metal hand and, forcing a smile, continues in a more friendly tone, "You must be Fawkes. My friends call me Charlie, but you can call me Copperhead."
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Charlotte Church
Copperhead is hot and sweaty and, despite her over-sized sunglasses, is developing a pounding headache from squinting against the glare. The local ork gangers are out in force but when she asks them about Fawkes, they all parrot the same response: You don't find Fawkes, he finds you. So she wanders the stalls, staying in the shade as much as possible.
At a stall selling army fatigues, she negotiates with the tiny asian for a 'genuine' UCAS jungle cap. She grins at the asian's feigned shock when she asks if he has any 'genuine' UCAS jungle cap knock-offs at a better price and they barter back and forth over a few yen before agreeing on a price. As she is adjusting the cap in the mirror next to the stall, she spots the two orks heading her way. The black one must be Fawkes. He walks like he owns the place. The other one she doesn't recognize.
She makes a final adjustment to the cap and turns to face them. She catches the flaps of her long coat with steel fingers and draws it back, planting her fists on her hips and letting them get a good look at her. Her scaled arms gleam in the sunlight and her pale torso and legs are also ridged with the scales of her dermal armor. A keen eye can even see the pattern of the scales through the bright green sports bra and cycle shorts which is all she seems to be wearing under the coat.
At the two close on her, her face darkens at the mention of Argent and the ork's off-hand remark. A forked tongue tastes the air between gritted teeth.
"Oh yeah, ssshe's doin' real well for sssomeone who recently sssurvived two attemptss on her life and whosse man ended up a greassy sssmear on da tarmac coz a some fraggin' corper. At least he won't be trying ta off her againssss." she hisses at Ælias.
Calm, child. You sshould not reveal your ssecretss sso eassily.
She rolls her neck, cracking it to ease the sudden tension in her shoulders.
Sorry mama. Frag, I thought I was over that business.
Turning back to Fawkes, she holds out a large metal hand and, forcing a smile, continues in a more friendly tone, "You must be Fawkes. My friends call me Charlie, but you can call me Copperhead."
@ E:PL/UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Gemeaux's jaw literally drops open when he sees Charlie open the door for the unknown traveler. A flood of nascent chastising remarks thunder about his stream of consciousness, but only "You idiot!" can form before the appearance of an exotic, silver-haired woman followed the telltale swoosh of a silenced slug divert his attention. He watches in horror as the poor orc falls back into the church, shifting his focus back to the task at hand.
Shit. What a pisspoor bodyguard I am turning out to be...
<<[Gemeaux]: Hill, it looks as though our mutual friend's hunters have arrived. I would advise that we move the man and his son as quickly as possible, although I hope you have a spare driver. Monsieur Charles may need you to perform les derniers sacrements. Oh, stay away from windows, and don't open any doors no matter who knocks.>>
When he sees the strangers enter the church, he spins a web of whispered insults and begins to slip back inside the church...
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]
Gemeaux's jaw literally drops open when he sees Charlie open the door for the unknown traveler. A flood of nascent chastising remarks thunder about his stream of consciousness, but only "You idiot!" can form before the appearance of an exotic, silver-haired woman followed the telltale swoosh of a silenced slug divert his attention. He watches in horror as the poor orc falls back into the church, shifting his focus back to the task at hand.
Shit. What a pisspoor bodyguard I am turning out to be...
<<[Gemeaux]: Hill, it looks as though our mutual friend's hunters have arrived. I would advise that we move the man and his son as quickly as possible, although I hope you have a spare driver. Monsieur Charles may need you to perform les derniers sacrements. Oh, stay away from windows, and don't open any doors no matter who knocks.>>
When he sees the strangers enter the church, he spins a web of whispered insults and begins to slip back inside the church...
@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
SIN: Spencer Lovett
Mordred watched the woman enter the church. Now he just had to get himself out of the line of fire. Trying not to be seen, the adept cautiously moves to a limo parked nearby. Crouching, he reaches a hand to pull off his hooded sweatshirt. And that point, he finds the neat little bow. You've got to be kidding me. Mordred quickly undoes the bow, then pulls off his clothes, stuffing them into his bag. The armor he had on underneath was coated with ruthenium polymers, which made it easier for him to hide. Mordred then loaded his gun with stick and shock rounds. Unconscious was better than dead. He needed answers on who was trying to capture the technomancer.
The shot was fired from somewhere across the street. Mordred remained kneeling by the car, waiting for the shooter to make a move.
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
SIN: Spencer Lovett
Mordred watched the woman enter the church. Now he just had to get himself out of the line of fire. Trying not to be seen, the adept cautiously moves to a limo parked nearby. Crouching, he reaches a hand to pull off his hooded sweatshirt. And that point, he finds the neat little bow. You've got to be kidding me. Mordred quickly undoes the bow, then pulls off his clothes, stuffing them into his bag. The armor he had on underneath was coated with ruthenium polymers, which made it easier for him to hide. Mordred then loaded his gun with stick and shock rounds. Unconscious was better than dead. He needed answers on who was trying to capture the technomancer.
The shot was fired from somewhere across the street. Mordred remained kneeling by the car, waiting for the shooter to make a move.
@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada
Tsubaki recalls the church entrance being unlocked. So, parting ways with the armed stranger, the woman hurries around the corner of the building, slips through the church's front doors there, and very cautiously, shuts them behind her. She puts her finger and thumb around a small device on the door, and locks it. Inside, the woman turns around, and carefully moves through hallway. Avoiding the windows, of course. Her hand reaches behind her, beneath her clothing, and produces a silenced Kompakt pistol within her grasp. Small and concealable, it is decent for something that is mostly convenient. Tsubaki likes to be subtle.
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada
Tsubaki recalls the church entrance being unlocked. So, parting ways with the armed stranger, the woman hurries around the corner of the building, slips through the church's front doors there, and very cautiously, shuts them behind her. She puts her finger and thumb around a small device on the door, and locks it. Inside, the woman turns around, and carefully moves through hallway. Avoiding the windows, of course. Her hand reaches behind her, beneath her clothing, and produces a silenced Kompakt pistol within her grasp. Small and concealable, it is decent for something that is mostly convenient. Tsubaki likes to be subtle.
@E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons
Ælias winces internally at Copperhead's remark about Argent, he had only just met the elf before his run, and hadn't know about the fixer's recent troubles. That didn't give the... naga-troll?... reason to snap at him in front of Fawkes, but what could he do about it. Ælias just let it slide by with a cocked head and shrug, as if to say 'Whaddya expect me to do about it?'.
As Copperhead introduces herself to Fawkes, Ælias concentrates on the code around him, taking in a small breath and releasing with it a mental call. His whistle goes out for a Data Sprite, a moderate search-fairy made of digital green light, but what appears is not what he called for. An angry, yellow swarm of search-bot bees appears in his node, resisting his call and try to sting him for his attempt. Ælias quickly shunts the swarm out of node, brushing away the code with a mental push.
The Resonance here is sour....angry. The patchwork nature of this grid is not very hospitable. I am already looking forward to leaving this place.
He turns his attention back to the other two metas he is standing with in the Bazaar as they finish their introductions. Ælias then takes his turn to introduce himself to the scaled one, "Name's Ælias, datz what my friends and everyone else can call me."
He makes sure to get a good look at her face, as well as Fawkes', using his SimRig form to record every second of this, transmitting it into the link on his wrist, pretty much the only thing it is good for in his mind. That and keeping up appearances. The photos would be used as data for some searching later, or whenever he could get a friendly sprite to come around and help him out.
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons
Ælias winces internally at Copperhead's remark about Argent, he had only just met the elf before his run, and hadn't know about the fixer's recent troubles. That didn't give the... naga-troll?... reason to snap at him in front of Fawkes, but what could he do about it. Ælias just let it slide by with a cocked head and shrug, as if to say 'Whaddya expect me to do about it?'.
As Copperhead introduces herself to Fawkes, Ælias concentrates on the code around him, taking in a small breath and releasing with it a mental call. His whistle goes out for a Data Sprite, a moderate search-fairy made of digital green light, but what appears is not what he called for. An angry, yellow swarm of search-bot bees appears in his node, resisting his call and try to sting him for his attempt. Ælias quickly shunts the swarm out of node, brushing away the code with a mental push.
The Resonance here is sour....angry. The patchwork nature of this grid is not very hospitable. I am already looking forward to leaving this place.
He turns his attention back to the other two metas he is standing with in the Bazaar as they finish their introductions. Ælias then takes his turn to introduce himself to the scaled one, "Name's Ælias, datz what my friends and everyone else can call me."
He makes sure to get a good look at her face, as well as Fawkes', using his SimRig form to record every second of this, transmitting it into the link on his wrist, pretty much the only thing it is good for in his mind. That and keeping up appearances. The photos would be used as data for some searching later, or whenever he could get a friendly sprite to come around and help him out.
@E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Charlotte Church
Ælias! Frag, he's the contact Argent mentioned for run. Good job girl, piss off the J at the start of the meet!
She rolls her eyes, mercifully concealed behind the sunglasses and turns to Ælias.
"Sorry chummer. Didn't mean to snap at you but I was dere when Ember bought it. Dat last act cost him his life but saved mine."
She pulls the long coat back tight around her body and pulls down the cap.
"Now dat we got da pleasantries out of da way, what say we gets outta da fraggin sun before I catch on fire, neh?"
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Charlotte Church
Ælias! Frag, he's the contact Argent mentioned for run. Good job girl, piss off the J at the start of the meet!
She rolls her eyes, mercifully concealed behind the sunglasses and turns to Ælias.
"Sorry chummer. Didn't mean to snap at you but I was dere when Ember bought it. Dat last act cost him his life but saved mine."
She pulls the long coat back tight around her body and pulls down the cap.
"Now dat we got da pleasantries out of da way, what say we gets outta da fraggin sun before I catch on fire, neh?"
@ E:PL/UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
Now back within the confines of the church, Gemeaux begins making his way quickly back to Anselm, the sorcier technologique, and his son. At the very least, he needs to make sure they stayed safe.
<<[Gemeaux]: Hill, I am moving to you. I will do what I can to make sure our friend's hunters miss their quarry.>>
He is a little disturbed by the priest's strange onset of silence, but the clergyman had not been talkative to begin with. He hopes nothing has befallen them---or worse, this being the most elaborate and nonsensical trap set up by Shiawase to return their prodigal asset to their fold. Although he would have to hand it to them, this would certainly take the proverbial cake in "so crazy it might just work" schemes.
That moment of self-indulgent narcissism aside, he switches gears from moving stealthily to moving guardedly. He starts visually scanning his path for any potential threats, having Vivienne overlay his various visual imaging data on his goggle's HUD.
See no evil, hear no evil, hopefully means there is no evil...
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton
Now back within the confines of the church, Gemeaux begins making his way quickly back to Anselm, the sorcier technologique, and his son. At the very least, he needs to make sure they stayed safe.
<<[Gemeaux]: Hill, I am moving to you. I will do what I can to make sure our friend's hunters miss their quarry.>>
He is a little disturbed by the priest's strange onset of silence, but the clergyman had not been talkative to begin with. He hopes nothing has befallen them---or worse, this being the most elaborate and nonsensical trap set up by Shiawase to return their prodigal asset to their fold. Although he would have to hand it to them, this would certainly take the proverbial cake in "so crazy it might just work" schemes.
That moment of self-indulgent narcissism aside, he switches gears from moving stealthily to moving guardedly. He starts visually scanning his path for any potential threats, having Vivienne overlay his various visual imaging data on his goggle's HUD.
See no evil, hear no evil, hopefully means there is no evil...
@ E:PL/UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:16:50; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
Gemeaux stalks through the church to locate Mr Hill and their package whilst the strange white haired lady crouches with gun in hand looking warily about her. Outside, sheltering from the sun, and hopefully from the angles of fire that the enemy might be using, Mordred waits for a movement. On a quiet Thursday morning there is little traffic and the gentle trill of birdsong...
...suddenly to your trained ears you hear a phutt and arcing over the street from behind the opposite building you see a trail of white smoke and something spangs off the bonnet of the limo before beginning to spew a cloud of noxious white smoke across the car park...a second muffled launch indicates another incoming round
...inside Gemeaux catches a glimpse of movement in the trees to the south west, so the foe are encircling you it would seem and there is little cover inside the church bar the wooden pews, it might be wise to prevent their entry, no? ...
[May 19th, 2072, 10:16:50; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
Gemeaux stalks through the church to locate Mr Hill and their package whilst the strange white haired lady crouches with gun in hand looking warily about her. Outside, sheltering from the sun, and hopefully from the angles of fire that the enemy might be using, Mordred waits for a movement. On a quiet Thursday morning there is little traffic and the gentle trill of birdsong...
...suddenly to your trained ears you hear a phutt and arcing over the street from behind the opposite building you see a trail of white smoke and something spangs off the bonnet of the limo before beginning to spew a cloud of noxious white smoke across the car park...a second muffled launch indicates another incoming round
...inside Gemeaux catches a glimpse of movement in the trees to the south west, so the foe are encircling you it would seem and there is little cover inside the church bar the wooden pews, it might be wise to prevent their entry, no? ...
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