Seeing the van pull up and the keys hit the door via the external security, Papa heads out, picks up the keys and heads over to check out the delivery.

Tuesday -- July 19, 2072
At the Safehouse

The paint of the van shimmers slightly in the sun as Papa gets close to it. Looking through the front window shows a bench sliding across the front. The steering wheel and pedals are visible, but all of the other controls and gauges are missing. It is obviously meant to be driven with an AR overlay if not a deeper connection. Unlocking the side door, it slides open to reveal a body. The corpse is missing its head and hands. Beyond it are several drones, powered down. Mounted to the walls are storage cases with several drawers. It is a setup the hacker has seen in custom-shop feeds for modding a van to carry an entire shop worth of tools and keep everything organized.

Brock

The wait is uneventful. In your peripheral vision, you see a few guys look like they might start something but a glance and a shake of the head from the bartender stop them in their tracks. Theodore comes in after about ten minutes. He grabs a barstool and gestures for two drinks to be brought over as he sits down next to you.

"Good to see you Brock. I hope the day treats you well. So, I got a job from an odd source, but the funds check out. There's a group of locals working for an out of town Johnson. I know there are two of them, a trog and a wiz-smoothie. They need a set of eyes on their backs to keep them out of trouble while they find a couple of 'misplaced objects.' The offer was five large to sign on minimum of one week, and fifty more for each of the items you help them find. There's one other caveat which is just weird, but he wanted to make sure I told you--you can, I quote 'keep what you kill' if that means anything.

"What do you think?"

He takes a deep drink of his beer.

Olethros

You are woken by a thick hammering on the hatch. The screen near the door shows a man and woman, both heavily muscled wearing loose fitting clothes. Opening the hatch slightly, you see the form of a massive bear overshadowing the woman. The man stands with a relaxed aura flickering with turbulent emotional spikes. With the door open, the bear-woman begins talking in a scratchy alto.

"Our lord says you are hunting power and tangled up in this one's business." She tosses a piece of plastic paper through the gap. It shows an image of a woman in a black dress with an inhuman expression on her face and a golden locket around her neck. Beneath the picture is an address.

"If you go to the address, there are people stopping the..." she pauses and looks to the man next to her. "...the Gallery's lap dog from closing the door forever."

Upon hearing the ruckus downstairs, Uetz slithers out from under the sheets, and winds his way down the stairs. He makes his way to the front door, weaving into sinusoidal waves and then straightening and pushing his way forward. He reaches the windows, and raises himself up to eye level by bracing his body against the wall.

What in the world... he thinks to himself when he sees the suspicious van in their driveway. Perhaps I should take a closer look... He turns around and makes his way back towards his room, curiosity winning over melancholy.

Brock

Brock sits at the bar smiling when he sees Theodore walk in, he needed some dough. The drinks come and Brock takes a swig. choking a little at the mention of 50K Nuyen. "What the hell." he had not seen that kind of money for a long time. imagine what he could do with 50K wow. he thought about it taking another swig. "50K?what are looking for Big D's hidden stash?." Theodore wasnt much of a joker when it came to between the two of them so he knew this probably was all legit. After a few more moments and another drink finishing his glass of beer "Im in.....as for the keep what i kill, i am cool with it. I have a lot of killing in my life left to do, might as well be on the side that pays well for it."

Papa smiles as he looks around the van -until he sees the corpse, at which he frowns. As his eyes continue to scan, his smile returns though. I hope that when we part with it, we can keep our heads.

Checking the physical keys, he checks them for an encryption key that allows him to access the van's node with administrative access.

Brock

Putting the glass down, Theodore smiles slightly and nods at your assent.

"Here's the address I was given for the team. They didn't say it had anything to do with Dunkelzahn, but there's been rumors across the globe of a spike in artifacts--arcanoarchaeology--or some such. For this kind of scratch, my guess is it will be something along those lines, or something worth even more.

"Keep in touch and let me know if I can facilitate any exchanges for you."

Papa

You don't see anything obvious on the keys themselves. Looking over the van and its contents, you spot the glint of reflective plastic from the corpse's jacket. The commlink's screen glows gently. He was apparently logged in when he was killed. The link is actively subscribed to the van and drones, though all are showing 'stand-by' readouts. They are registered to Andrew Reuhel, an Aztlan native with a tourist visa into the PCC. The documents scream cheap forgery, with a certified cred balance of 40,000

Upon reaching his room, Uetz finally drops his shapechange spell. His snakeskin grows dim and dull, and muscles roil beneath now brittle skin. His human form bursts through, shattering the snakeskin husk which turns into emerald dust before vanishing off into the ether. He sighs, grabs a t-shirt and boxer shorts, and changes. He walks to his bathroom and splashes water on his face. After drying off, he glances in the mirror and sees an exhausted caricature of himself staring back. Puffy, dark circles surround his eyes, a day's worth of stubble peppers his face, and a listless expression has settled upon his features.

Too depressed to care, he trudges off and picks up his foci. He activates each, and prepares to summon forth a spirit. At first, he considers calling forth a Xipil, but thinks better of it. His mind is clouded enough, and he is much more adept at calling forth Tlacels.

"Wisdom of my forefathers, grant me the strength to gird my mind and fortify my will," he chants in melancholic monotone. His efforts are rewarded in kind, with a fairly weak willpower spell. He grumbles, and repeats the action, this time with more feeling. His ancestors feel his sincerity, and he feels as though gentle hands have wiped away some of the fog clouding his thinking.

"I call upon you, guardians of my people, to stand with me in my time of need," he says sincerely. He casts forth his magic towards Tlalocan, and feels a spirit take pity on him. The spirit leaves its paradise, and crosses into the world.

You have called me, nahualli, and I am here. What is it you require?

Thank you for coming, honorable Tlacelel. I need your help in assensing items and assaying their power and threat. Given my group's recent run of luck, I thought it prudent to have a true warrior stand with us just in case danger befalls us.

Very well. I stand at the ready, able to evaluate the danger of these items, and shed blood should battle call. Lead me to them.

Uetz walks downstairs, Tlacelel in tow, and they begin to investigate the Huntsman's bounty...

After slicing through the defenses of the corpse's com-link, Papa sits for a moment, reflecting. His hand moves to his face, because he still feels the burns even though mundane and magical healing have removed all physical traces; the mental scar will take much more time to fade. Simultaneously, he is running diagnostics on the van and drones; his split concentration a benefit, and sometimes a bane, of his attention co-processor.

Noticing the balance of nuyen, he begins to formulate the number of upgrades still outstanding. Too many. The balance of desired upgrades totaling 58,400 and another 120,000 in bioware on the list Time for a side job... or ten.

Another thought strikes him and Papa accesses the video from the interior cameras...

Brock shakes Theodores hand and takes the information nodding his head "null Sheen Theodore." and pats him on the back on the way out of the club. 50,000 Nuyen.....there is so much i need to do and that can help me. Honey i hope your looking over me. Help me out here so i can get the dough to really take out those damned drek that took you away from me.I really hope i dont have to make any high profile enemies i already have quite a few Brock smiled at that last thought but instead roared out of the place in his Gopher and went to his dos to pick up all his gear if he was doing anything this scale he thought he would need everything he had so he loaded up all his gear and headed to the address Theodore gave him.

Coffin Hotel
He looks over the picture - feeling disconnected from this world and vessel for a brief moment - he remembers when they bound it to the task. A strange feeling of his two existences overlapping fills him and leaves him feeling dizzy. He speaks his voice tinged with something like want but deeper and darker.

"What lord do you skinwalkers serve? Why does he do me this favor now?"

He drags his eyes from the photo and looks over the odd couple outside his resting place attempting to see their true nature, the deeper well of their souls, to see what they hold in the way of answers.

Papa

Pulling up the camera feeds from the drones and the van, you sift through them with the Analyze program grabbing new faces as they come up in the feed. There doesn't seem to be anyone routinely in the feeds other than the now dead rigger. The video feeds go back for the last forty-eight hours and you see him pass through an Aztlan border checkpoint. The side door of the van opens and one of the drones pushes out a small crate into the shadow of the checkpoint. Border patrol agents slide the case out of the way near their patrol car as the van drives away.

The drones deploy and have a spike in sensor feeds just east of San Bernadino. Several cases change hands with a group of gangers and the rigger leaves after being paid. Hours later near a bar called the Chicken Choker, the body is tossed in with head and hands missing. There are no signs of blood oozing into the upholstery so he was probably killed and drained before being dumped in the van. The picture on the ID shows a swarthy, thin man with no visible scars or tattoos on his face. Unless he had a longer neck than usual, he doesn't fit the build of a 6'4", 320 lb dwarf, which is what the ID labels.

Olethros

"We serve the Hunter. He does this favor to you because your needs align. If the Gallery closes, you are destined to become one of the Lost--feeding upon mortals to maintain a shadow of yourself. If you aid these people in their service to the Hunter, the Gallery stays open, and you have a chance to come into power."

The woman crosses her arms, looking down at you. Her aura crackles and you can see the bulge of muscles under her mortal flesh. Opposite her, the man leans back against the row of coffins across the hallway. One foot rests on the wall casually.

Papa scratches his chin, a little puzzled at discrepancy, but not enough to research any further. Moving the corpse to the side, the troll makes space to climb into the van and closes the door. He connects an optical cable to the van's control interface, does a complete backup of the system and data to a datachip, which he them takes offline and into his pocket. That done, he does a complete system reset on the van's system, changes the serial ID with the spoof chip and slaves it to his com. He proceeds to do the same thing rigger's comlink, placing the second datachip in his pocket with the first when complete. He takes the comlink and places it into an empty drawer.

Using one of the newly acquired radio signal scanners, he begins the task of looking for RFID tags, inventorying the van's contents during the process.

Coffin Hotel
He grabs his bag and slides out of his "room". Reaching in he grabs his bag and slings it across his shoulders. He smiles as he nods towards the two messengers.

"Thank your master for me and if our needs indeed align then I will assist these souls in their endeavors."

He walks past them and looks back only once with something akin to longing - it was rare to meet those steeped in the otherworldly. He promised himself to seek more beings that lived at the fringes of this world. He made his way to the street and quickly sent a request for a cab to pick him up and take him to the address he received. A part of him felt a tingle of excitement and his pulse quickened at the thought of moving closer to his goals and his former glory. He felt his face flush with heat - this vessel's response to his emotions - it bewildered him at times, what to do with these responses and how to temper them in the future. He let the heat and sensations wash over him.

At the Safehouse

The sun sets on the house, with diagnostics completed on the van. All of the drones have changed their allegiance fully to Papa's banner. In the evening, a cab pulls up behind the Gopher as Olethros and Brock arrive. The house is nondescript except for the trashcans down at the street for collection--they show signs of a recent fire. Both are overflowing with bottles, red plastic cups, and other debris from a large party.

There's a faint high pitched whistling and pressure in your ears, like dropping rapidly into a deep valley. The sound grows stronger as you approach the house and then fades about halfway across the lawn. In the Astral, a thin spot is visible where the noise is strongest. The thinning appears to be a small wound dripping with ectoplasmic residue.

Pausing briefly to look over the wound hanging in the astral space, a small smile crosses his face as he walks up to the front door and buzzes to let the occupants know they have company. He shifts the bag to a comfortable position leaving his arms free and loose just in case they were as violent and paranoid as others he had met who pursued this life.

Brock pulls up to the non descript house double checking the address. when he pulls up he surveys the surrounding area to see if this was in fact the correct area he was to meet up. satified after a few minutes, he gets out of the Gopher and grabs his gear. both bags in the back of the truck have his broken down LMG and body armor in them. When the cab pulls up he is put a little on the defensive not knowing who is pulling up, Brock waits for the other to exit the vehicle and the cab to pull away before he starts talking. "hoi chummer."Brock says then takes in the scenary. popping his ears constantly when he walks up he wonders about the sound until he gets to the door. seeing the bottles and trash pilled up he wonders just who in fact lives at the residence, or if he and the other new comer were going to be the new residents. Brock is a huge troll with two horns the sweep back along his head. wearing loose fitting jeans and his baggy sweater and troll customized beannie he starts to walk towards the front door past the van.

Looking over Brock he nods once acknowledging the call out.

"You live here? I'm supposed to meet some people here."

Brock looks over the other fellow standing at the front door with him, not expecting but never to be to cautious he takes a defensive posture setting one of the bags down next to the front door and while getting ready to club who ever answers unfriendly or the stranger next to him. he knew there was a team he was joining and obviously this new fellow was not one of them. "nah not my place. Just here for work."

As the Gopher and cab pull onto the street in front of the house, camera feeds from both the van and the house security system provide details to the team's hacker. Hidden from view by the tinted windows of the gray panel van parked in the short driveway he begins a threat assessment. I suddenly feel very vulnerable here. We have no idea if the guys from the campus have any idea where we hang our hats... I think I need silenced gun emplacements on the house.

TeamNet™ activates for Uetz with audio from Papa overlaying dual video feeds. One focused on each of the new arrivals.
<<@Uetz [Papa] To add to the strangeness of the day, two more new arrivals; these both have heads and hands still attached and they both *appear* to be moving under their own power. How about a mojo-rating threat assessment? The one from the cab is under the impression he's meeting someone here- Make that both have that impression...>>

He no more than sends the request to Uetz than he considers Harvey. Looking out the tinted glass at the duo, "Harvey, are either of these guys spell-slingers?"

Uetz sees his comlink beep, which is still on the floor with the rest of his gear that he dropped when he got home and shifted to his serpent form. He picks up the comlink and slips his goggles on, takes a moment to read it, and then writes a reply.

<<@Papa [Uetz] You got it. With the way things have been going for us, they are probably a pair of hungry dragons in disguise.>>

Noble Tlacelel, can you assense the people who have just arrived and determine their strength? I hope that they are friends, but I would not be surprised if they turn out to be foes.

It will be done, nahualli. Take heart, for I stand with you.

I'll try...

Papa

The warm wind blows in the back of your mind, No.

Papa leans back and slips into full VR. Less than a heartbeat later, he appears in AR as a older woman sitting in a rocking chair on the small porch of the house. Looking towards the duo the woman asks in an old woman's voice, "Are you boys lost?" while scanning to see that their coms are active or at least passive and authorized.

Brock turns so that if the door opens it will still be visible and half turns so his back isnt exposed to the human he arrived with or the house, he regards the Old women with a stern voice. "this your house?"

Looking over the AR woman he chuckles or at least tries to sound like it is amusing. Again the nuances of some of the social interactions alluded him. "Not lost but rather directed here by a bear of a woman who said you might need some friends right about now."

The old woman rocks, watching the two carefully, as though they were all present in the flesh. She thinks for a moment on each response. After a fully dozen rocks, back and forth, she looks to the human. "A bear you say? Not a lot of room to misinterpret that." She rocks once more, looking over each.

The dual videos still feeding to Uetz, Papa voice continues,
<<@Uetz [Papa] I'm thinking that if they are dragons perhaps they have been sent. I'm gonna let them in. Perhaps they have additional information.>>

Back on the porch, the near silent click of the front door unlocking is amplified to AR; not so loud as to be obtrusive, but enough to be noticed without augmentation. The old woman stands, "Perhaps you should come in." She then turns and walks through the still closed door.

In the van, Papa remains motionless, waiting for the new comers to enter the house. He activates the soykaf machine in the kitchen and starts a fresh pot, selecting the 50/50 mix of real beans/soykaf and directs the Vac-u-bot to return to its charging station.

brock picks up his gloves and pushes the door open, waits a few moments and then slips in checking the cornors of the door to make sure he would not be sprung upon and immediatly takes up a position to face the human behind him and making sure a wall is behind him. "hello"

Olethros waits a moment as the other newcomer goes through his motions - some sort of routine designed to keep him safe. This world being what it was it wasn't an unwise precaution. He calmly walks in, making sure to give the other man enough room to feel unthreatened.

<<@Papa [Uetz]: Fortunately, dragons they are not. The troll is heavily cybered, and the human is awakened. However, there is something disturbing about his aura. Scars from a disease are stitched about it. I am hoping they are here to help, but recent events have brought out the pessimist in me.>>

<<@Uetz [Papa] We might take the human down without much noise, but we're gonna have to make some noise to take out the troll. Given the noise the team on campus made, I would imagine that if they were here to be bad guys, we'd already be neck deep in shit.>>

After the man enters the house, Papa quietly exits the van and proceeds towards the door. Dressed in his jumpsuit, the troll stands to an average height for a troll. His horns sweep forward, up, around, and back towards the front again. His brown hair sweeps down just past his shoulders and a gym bag hangs down from left to right. He walks confident from to the front door of the house and then into the house, watching the duo in his AR video feeds from inside the house.

Looking to the duo as he enters, "Gentleman. You can call me Papa."

Brock didnt remember seeing anyone outside unless they were waiting for them inside the van that is. "Hello Papa im Brock, i guess there is mojo slinger around here as well or so i am told. Where should i put my stuff as i take it this is going to be a long gig?" Brock slides his shock gloves off and holds his hand out to shake the other trolls hand. it wasnt very often you got to work with another troll.

<<@Papa [Uetz] I certainly hope you are right. Speaking of shit, that is exactly what I look like. Can you give me a chance to put some clothes on? I will be down in a bit to meet our guests.>>

With that, Uetz grabs his things and trudges up the stairs. He sighs. Meeting new people is the very last thing he feels like doing right now...

<<@Uetz [Papa] Take your time. I'll keep feeding audio/video and see how much they know... not that we really know that much more.>>

Now, in person, Papa notices how much larger Brock as they shake hands. "Uetz. He will be down shortly." AS each recover their hands and Papa proceeds in, "We weren't expecting visitors." He moves to shake hands with the human and begins a face recognition search before proceeding through the living room to the adjoining kitchen. He continues talking as he gathers mugs. "We'll discuss sleeping arrangements when Uetz comes down. What do you know at this point?"

The troll, Papa, makes a good first impression. There is also something about his presence that is reassuring.

Brock was sure the other that would be joining them either was equally informed if not better than he was, he was sure of that the shape of Papa's horns were unusal to say the least he had never seen the grown design before. he was always kind of curious about his meta type they were rare and yet each one had a unique look and attitude. Papa seemed alright so far and didnt seem like much of a threat which meant he had some other talents which were equally useful besides physical talents. Brock still didnt know what the human contributed for the job he looked fit maybe another augmented ally and he thought if he knew him from somewhere, this much muscle had to mean some serious business was to be done which meant that Brock was going to earn every bit of the 50K score.

"No Problem, mind if i get a cup of that coffee. Its been a long drive, Black please." seeing Papa go for coffee mugs Brock was usually comfortable around Papa he didnt know if it was simply because of the similar meta type or how welcoming he had been towards two complete strangers which meant he was covered from every angle to have such confidence with strangers like himself and the Human. Brock set both his bags down in the living room making sure to leave the one with his sledge hammer in it open so he can get to it if he needed to. the grenade launcher was in with the LMG broken down so if someone wanted to use it against him they would have to put any of his guns together first.

Waiting for the coffee to be rounded up Brock gets straight to biz "So i was told we were going after some artifact or some such correct? among other things."

Olethros nods at the introduction and makes room for Papa.

"Ollie is what I usually go by for work. As to what we know - I was given this address by a skin walker - a bear who suggested the lord she works for and currently employs you might have similar interests. I came to see if it was true. She gave me this as well."

He hands Papa the photo of Locket.

"Is it true you have dealt with this entity?"

His voice is relaxed but excited - as if discussing a favorite hobby or trid starlet.

Brock was now lost in the conversation entity and skin walkers? meh..... he would figure that out later, right now he was wondering if the human had the right address. anything was possible when talking about artifacts i guess a lot of powerful people were paying big money for such things from what theodore made it sound like this entity might have been the reason why Brock had to agree to keep what he killed.

Brock shakes Ollie's hand "cool so we are all introduced except for your Uetz friend." Brock turns his attention to the coffee.

Papa pulls down a number of mugs, all of which look like they were made in the previous century. He proceeds to pouring cups for all while answering Brock. "Artifacts, yes." He looks at the new troll for a moment, "I've seen shit I never thought possible in the last week. That has caused me to broaden my horizons in research outside of hard sciences." The hands the first mug to Brock and focuses on finishing the other mugs.

He hands a mug to Ollie as he takes the hard copy. He pauses at the picture, images of the battle in the kitchen flush in his mind. He looks back to the burn marks on the floor of the kitchen and in his mind's eye sees Rene bleeding out. He brings himself back to the present and looks to Ollie. "Yes. We have."

He remains silent for a moment regarding the UFC fighter as the first of the search results begin to filter in. Not ready to dive deeper into the mystical side of things without Uetz, he changes the topic and addresses both the new arrivals. "I'm operations support. Systems, drones, vehicles. I can mix it up in the front if needed, but I'm far more valuable to the team working from the back office."

<<@Uetz [Papa] By the way, we have 40,000 in certified cred. We should also see about liquidating the other stuff. I have a crazy amount of upgrades and some personal gear I need to get. No more getting caught like we did on the campus. What's on your list of needs... besides an upgrade to your com?>>

<<@Papa [Uetz] Thanks, I appreciate it. I will be down as soon as I can.>>

Uetz slips into the bathroom and scrubs his face and armpits. No time for a proper shower, so he smears deodorant on and quickly shaves. He pulls on a clean shirt and pair of jeans. He takes a look in the mirror. The face of a man with something weighing heavily on both his shoulders and hearts stares listlessly back.

He grabs his foci and does some quick casting, replacing the willpower and reflex spells in his sustaining foci. He is about to head down when he sees Papa's message scrawl across his vision.

<<@Papa [Uetz] Well, at least we know our blood is worth something. Let me think about what I need shopping-wise. Those reagents we got earlier could earn some decent nuyen, 2.5k to 5k depending on what they are used for. I can contact Guillermo and see what we can get for them.>>

Olethros takes in the information as Papa hands outs and prepares mugs.

"I would say I'm smart muscle with a focus on melee. Get me within arm's reach of someone or something and it's all over. I also know a bit about the deep dark old things that go bump in the night. If we get a chance I would love to see what artifacts you've collected and which you are still seeking - I might be able to piece together the larger picture here."

He takes a mug and sips it.

"I'm frankly surprised you're still alive if you ran into her."

So am I, but it appears the gods smiled on us. Sort of."

A haggard-looking, twentysomething Aztlaner dressed in a plain white-T and worn jeans walks down the stairs. He looks fairly nondescript for an Aztlaner---thick black hair cut at a medium length, dark cinnamon colored skin, and deeply set dark eyes. Something appears to be physically and emotionally bothering him. His posture is that of a man torn apart, trying desperately to put the pieces back together. Various foci crafted of leather, quetzal feathers, and obsidian hang from his person. He gives the guests a hollow smile.

"I am Uetzcayotl Tlaloc, but you can call me Uetz. Welcome to our humble home."

Brock regards Ollie with puzzled look. thinking to himself "things that go bump in the night". wondering what "things" he meant. "Well i don't know what all that includes, who exactly are we talking about when you say she?"Brock takes a swig from his coffee enjoying the flavor and aromma of fresh coffe beans being used."seeing is believing i guess. As for my usefulness i would say muscle. i use mainly a sledge hammer unarmed combat or my LMG in the bag there, either way i can be useful for any punching or heavy lifting, i used Bodyguard in the past but have since." thinking of which he also includes"If any of you are involved with gangs i would like to know now so i can take my leave and add you to my list.....believe me when i say ill take it personal if you are. Other then that thank you for welcoming me into your home."

He nods his welcome to Uetz. With everyone now gathered in one place he takes a moment to look each person over while talking. The inspection is friendly and non-threatening - the visually equivalent to kicking the tires.

"She was an intelligence that wandered the metaplanes before being bound into service in a small and hidden corner of creation. She had thought herself more clever than the ones that bound her. She was charged with being their doorman so to speak - like the Dweller many encounter when embarking on astral quests but she is far from impartial. I am frankly surprised she is here in this reality. Something has changed to bring her here bodily and she is extremely dangerous. While she may serve those that bound her it is by no means willing and she will be looking for every way to subvert their purpose and slip free."

He takes a longer drink from the mug before continuing.

"As to the matter of gangs - I have no affiliations with any or plan to in the near future."

Brock shakes his head wishing he knew more about that kind of thing, although he wouldnt be much use against such things magical he only knew about mundane life and its threats.

Uetz visibly rolls his eyes when Brock asks if they are members of a gang. He raises his arms, gesturing for the troll to look at him.

"Do I look like a ganger? No, I am not. I am Nahualli, and I am supposed to be a healer. You will find few others who walk that path." He sighs before continuing.

"The way to paradise is paved with other people's blood. Those who choose peace often must sacrifice their own, in this world or the next."

<<@Uetz [Papa] Good. What are your thoughts on upgrades and equipment? You want to put any of your share towards upgrading the drones?>>

Papa considered telling Brock he was a member of a street gang just to spite, but his own disdain for street gangs wouldn't allow him to. He looks to the troll, "There will come a time when we must choose the lesser of two evils. Ignoring circumstance of birth and choices to survive may be required for us to complete the mission. If unprofessionalism gets someone killed I will take that personal." He leaves a hanging emphasis on the last word for a moment, leaving the insinuation unspoken. He takes a deep breath, calms his chi and continues with a forced smile. "While I may have been to a few raging street parties, it is not something I could do... being part of a gang." Looking around the room he adds, "per se."

He grabs Uetz a cup of the 50/50 brew, then focuses on Ollie. "As it appears we are going to be teammates, it would inhibit our working relationship for me to minimize the threat from the Locket." He gestures to a fire damaged spot of the kitchen floor, mostly visible from the center of the living room, through the doorway that connects the two rooms. "She paid a visit while we were away and enspelled some of the others living here. When we got back, there was a magical version of pop goes the fire weasel with Rene and Etain playing the part of the jack-in-the-boxes."

While to focusing on the conversation with Ollie, Papa reaches both inward and outward for information. "Harvey - What else can you tell me about the Locket?" The search on Ollie running its course, he switches to Brock using his image, handle, truck details and hatred of gangs in the search criteria.

Uetz thanks Papa for the drink, and takes a sip. He uses it as an opportunity to write a reply. He sends a message to Guillermo as well, but ends up getting an "away" notice.

<<@Papa [Uetz] If it means making us a little more secure against that pinche bruja and her cabrones, then I am happy to pitch in on upgrades. I need to consider buying some stronger foci, though. If the lackeys are that strong, I cannot fathom facing the leader just yet. Also, do you think their dick-waving contest is over? I have some stuff to take care of, and I need to check on Rene and Etain. I am hoping they are healed in body, but I am worried they are not healed in spirit.>>

brock looked over Uetz knowing he didnt look the part, it was more a comment meant for the other troll and human. While they didnt know the history behing his hatred or why it was there. While he understood Papa's statement he would try his hardest to make sure what ever odds he had would not interfere with the job at hand, although if he could hurt them and not risk the work or safety of his new Team why not. he smiles a little at that thought"I just want to make sure we are on the level and going forward you know my stance on such activities, i will not let my personal feelings limit our success as a team." Answering Papa's question on weather or not Brocks personel feelings would interfere with the team's work or not. Turning towards Uetz"I meant no disrepect Uetz." and nods his head in apology if he had offended him. "as to the lady who intruded your house, are unwelcome visitors going to be something of a regular occurance or was that a one off hit. If so maybe we should think about moving to a unknown location to them for the time being if you think that would be beneficial."

Brock finishes his coffee enjoying every last drop. listening with intent to everything the others had to say about this lady and her lackys

Uetz lowers the mug, giving Brock a hollow smile.

"I understand. Ours is a world teeming with scum, but I can safely say that neither Papa or myself belong to a gang."

At the mention of Locket's potential return, Uetz glances over at the kitchen. The weight on his shoulders seems to grow heavier and more painful.

"I should apologize for not being myself. The last few days have taken their toll, and though my person is here with you my heart is not. As for moving to avoid a second confrontation with that pinche puta, I doubt there is any place we can hide where she will not find us. Might as well prepare for the battle ahead rather than find false comfort in fresh hideout."

Brock could see that Utez had a lot on his shoulders and soul. "I can understand if you guys have recently went through some bad action and have had some losses its never easy loosing a long term teammate and friend. Do you guys have a next course of action from here?" Brock wondered just how much trouble this run was going to be and wondered if he was going to be regreting this chance at 50k looking at the burn marks on the floor hearing the stories about thier old comrades Brock really wanted to get his gear set up and ready in case they came knocking again.

<<@Uetz [Papa] Ok. I'll hold off until we have more details on the next leg....>>

As Uetz inquires to next steps, Papa injects his thoughts, "Before we commit, let's take some time to research the two leads we have. We can then make a decision as to where we are heading and which upgrades and gear purchases to make."

Looking to Brock he adds, "We weren't expecting the first infiltration... and that's a problem. We need to start expecting to be hit at any time."