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Panticles
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Triangle - Restaurant


The message each of you had got from your fixer told you that there was a job on offer but the Johnson wanted to meet in person, which was pretty bloody strange in this day of wireless instant communication, but nuyen talks and the Johnson was offering an easy five hundred for just turning up and listening to his or her spiel. The address on the e-vite is to a restaurant, by the name of Triangle, in the Redmond Barrens.

Which is how you find yourself on a Redmond street looking at the entrance to a fairly large two story building, topped with a well lit sign displaying a Triangle. When you use augmented reality visors the triangle seems to glow a bright gold and the word Triangle is printed in huge black letters across the front of the building.

Around you the Redmond street life is starting to pick up and you get the usual barrage of spam and sex messages that you'd get on any street in the city, or hell probably the world for the matter. Time for you to be getting inside...



Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Outside Triangle


The bikes stops a hundred yards away from the triangle, and Cindy gets off her pathfinder. Behind her she can see Gtore's huge form on his Growler. The helmet comes off, her hair is thrown into a ponytail and Cindy remembers her lessons.

"When your client is walking through a dangerous area, you must stay 1 step behind and to the left. If you are in demure stance remember always to scan, but don't let the client see"...wait...wrong lesson. "Go give them hell gir!l" seemed much better.

Putting away the makeup kit (with its helpful mirror), Cindy settles into a confident stride that she learnt watching the trideos, starts scanning the area, walks towards the triangle and prepares to enter.
Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Outside Triangle


Moving sideways to avoid being barged into a puddle, Cindy lets Gtore go past
Big Fella
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Outside Triangle


Gtore grunts as he pulls to a stop behind Cindy. Back to the Barrens again I left here for a reason he thinks. He watches as Cindy applies makeup apparently oblivious to her surrounding Silly girl, this is no place to be wearing expensive stuff. I told her that a 5000 nuyen suit was going to get her killed. Would she listen?

Gtore settles his rucksack on his back, the conforting weight of Mr White Knight is still there. Taking a long slow look around, he notices that Cindy is about to enter the Triangle. "Which is more dangerous: In or out? In or out?".

Mumbling "just a minute" he brushes past her, to check the inside before she can go in.
Thanee
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:30
Outside Triangle

Dawn's bike, a Suzuki Mirage, slowly enters the parking lot in front of the Triangle. The barrens were not exactly the place she would choose for such a meeting, but it was probably meant to be low-profile or somesuch. The latina gets off her bike and takes a look around before heading in. She is dressed in a tight-fitting, black leather suit, quite appropriate for riding a bike, and she is wearing orange-colored sunglasses. There are no weapons apparant. Since it is the barrens, Dawn has hidden her jewelry under her suit this time, so none of that is visible either.
WearzManySkins
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Outside Triangle

Lamiareads the message from Puffy, slithers over to the chamber with paintings of snakes all kinds painted on the walls.

I will be going to a place I am not yet familiar so best use the most strength of my spell.

Touching the necklace around her neck, fingering in one of the many suspended tokens there begins her casting. She feels the spell grow around her and gather in strength. Once finished she forms the link to keep the spell sustained.

Feeling a bit fatigued but nothing to majorly.

Places a call to Kombat Cabs.

Gets ready to leave her place, then heads to Underground Parkin.

The cab is waiting for her and she enters the cab, gives the driver her destination.

Lamia upright slithers out of the Kombat Kab in front the Triangle, handing the driver his new yen for the ride. Her Physical Mask spell showing to the rest of those in view a large female troll wearing a greatcoat getting out of the cab.

Tweaking her AR Spam Filter to remove most of the AR spam.

She slides towards the door and opens the entrance into the Triangle, allowing time for her tail to clear the door, moves to the side to allow others to enter and leave with stepping on her tail.

Looking slowly around the room, her tongue sliding in and out sampling the smells in the room.

Well seems they do not serve live food here, to deliberately cook a meal really ruins the flavors and juices of the prey.
Digital Heroin
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.15 - 20.30
Outside Triangle


Always show up fifteen minutes early for a job. Look attentive. You are going to a restaurant, so dress nice.

Doc Sanderson's words still echo in the head of the man known on these streets as Frankenstein. When Sudsy had called him over in the gym the other day he had been sure he was being asked to leave the gym. It was shortly after he had split a heavy bag in half despite its kevlar weave exterior. But Sudsy had just waved off the expense, said he would have his wife stitch it up like the last four. He had asked Damien - Sudsy insisted on calling him that, like his old life - to sit, and said he had a job for him if he wanted. When Frankenstein had said something about having a job, Sudsy had waved him off, hand wafting through a cloud of cigar smoke, and laughed, said this was a different kind of job. Said it was for a person named Johnson. All he had to do was show up to a place called Triangle and talk to this Johnson. There would be other people there, too. It was the kind of job where you worked with others. He had never had that kind of job, unless you counted a trainer and sparring partners.

The Triangle place was not far from Doc Sanderson's place. He had walked over, resisting the urge to stop in at Wiggles and say hello to Delilah and tell her he had a new job, and arrived fifteen minutes before. And then he had stood there, wondering why it was he had showed up early. If this new boss wanted him here at half past, then maybe he should be here then. Maybe the Doc was wrong. But the Doc never had led him astray before. Still, he just stands there across the street from the place he thinks he needs to be at, eyeing the triangle sign without thinking to switch to an AR overlay. Never did like those things. What did you need fancy graphics for to hit a guy? He watches as the pair of bikes - too shiny, too nice for the Barrens - show up, and the little chica and her bodyguard make their way to the entrance. Has to be a bodyguard. Big guy. Moves like he is watching her back. Well, watching where they are going. Then comes another bike - still too shiny - and another chica, this one in leather, gets off of it. As he watches, a cab pulls up, an oddity inside of the Barrens. Popular place. Maybe he should get going now. Should be about time. Check his chronometer. Yeah, it is time.

When he moves it is like a mountain pushing off of the wall of the building across the way from the Triangle. Frankenstein was already large when he was younger. Add in two very large, mis-matched cyberarms, and he is a slab of muscle and metal. As he crosses the street it will become obvious to anyone who bothers to look at him what his idea of dressing nice is. He is still wearing his usual attire - very obviously armored vest, black fatigue pants, no shirt so as to display his massive arms, the left one all chrome and polish, the other a more flat metal that is possibly a zinc alloy from the luster of it - but in a nod to proper society he has added an accessory. Frankenstein is wearing a tie. He crosses the street, passing by the bikes and the chica with the bodyguard, and he stops at the door.

Smile, but not too wide, do not say too much, just nod.
J. Packer
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Outside Triangle


The garish AR glare of the Triangle's triangle was begging to be hacked and modified, but Flash demurred for the time being. Instead he simply made a few quick swipes with his fingers, tagging the wall near the door with his code. It was important to mark one's digital territory.

The Barrens was like a reminder of the bad old days, before he'd figured out how to game the system, but at least the Triangle looked to be a bit cleaner and more well taken care of than the dumps he'd been forced to forage behind when he was a boy.

Stepping out of his pickup, Flash strode purposefully towards the doors. No point in keeping Mr. J waiting any longer than necessary.
Drace
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.30pm
Outside Aces


Having just finished his soybeer and a nice, wholesame game of dwarf tossing in the back room of Aces, Derek gives the mental command, switching the commlink overlay from his glasses that run off his public and "safe" commlink to the contacts which are connected to his biz 'link. A message pops up from Willie, telling him to get over to the triangle, a place the both of them go to semi-regularly when a nicer local meet is in order. He quickly goes out and to the back door that leads to his overhanging apartment, and gets changed, leaving his form fit armour on, but switching his jacket for his full business suit, packing his ceramic knife and his smg in the concealed pockets.

With a dash of cologne to cover the smells that accumalate on someone who lives in the barrens, Derek goes back outside and starts briskly walking to the Triangle located a few blocks from his home. 500 Nuyen just for a meet, might aswell go, beers for the week... almost.. As he gets to the restaurant, he walks in, nodding to a few of the locals he knows and scans the room, looking for the Johnson and seeing if any other runners had arrived.
Panticles
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.35pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Having entered the restaurant each of you is met by the maitre'd, a tall, thin, caucasian troll wearing a dark black Vashon dress suit.

"My name is Francois. Do you have a reservation?" he asks politely, the hint of a sneer in his voice.
Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.35pm
Triangle - Restaurant

OK thinks Cindy: wind him up or be nice? On the one hand we want the job. On the other hand he's being rude. On the first hand he's not done bad for a Gaijin at least he introduced himself. Decisions decisions.

"I'm with the Johnson party my good man, please introduce me as Miss Cindy. Nice place you have here, shame about the neighbourhood"

Hmm a masked Naga, well dressed and clean biker, a mountain of a troll, and some locals. I wonder which of the locals is here for the meet.

Cindy remembers her one of the few things her mother told her. "Never forget you are the top predator and they are prey. When you meet another like that you must decide whose territory it is. If it is theirs, and you do not wish to fight to the death, leave." Clearly the Naga counts, but does the troll? More decisions.

Cindy walks over to Lamia

"I go by the name of Cindy, I do not claim this place, let there be peace between us for this time"
Thanee
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:35
Triangle - Restaurant

"Indeed," the latina says. "Mr. Johnson will have a table reserved."

Dawn takes a look at the wildly mixed bunch of people who came here at roughly the same time. Most of them probably came for the very same reason she was here. She decides to wait with any introductions until they were seated, however.

She is taken aback for a moment when she realizes that one of them is masked by an illusion spell, much akin to what she is capable of, but the creature underneath the mask looks quite alien for sure. She keeps a healthy distance to that one.
Big Fella
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:35
Triangle - Restaurant


Gtore is impressed: what a fine looking Troll maiden, well dressed, muscular and pretty with it. Let me try a chat up line

"Hey your a big one", Gtore says to Lamia "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this."
Drace
Derek waits a moment as a small line up has grown infront of Francois, and listens to the others infront of him, most of whom have mentioned the Johnson party. Seems like I'm not the only one here for work, either this Johnson has a big job lined up, or needs a good assortment of talent..... As he gets up to the Maitre'D, Derek flashes a near genuine smile towards Francois and steps up towards him."Seems like the place never changes does it my good man," he says with a meloncholic tone, looking around the restaurant. "I'm meeting a few associates, the party's name is Johnson, would you mind?.", he asks pointedly, looking around semi-impatiently, as if his time is too important to be spent waiting on a simple employee.

As he is saying this, he takes in the people who were in front of him. Several Trogs, including a behomoth of muscle and metal, a primadonna and her bodyguard, and a small latino girl who he gives an appraising glance. Got ta watch that one, a tiny chica like that, even in touristville? Gotta have an ace...
WearzManySkins
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.35pm
Triangle - Restaurant

Lamia looks at the jumped up Waiter.

"I am here to meet a Johnson."

Watches Seth approach her, his double images giving some hint of his nature.

Listening to his words, she slides her tongue out to taste his smell.

"Agreed this is not place either, let there be peace between us, for this time. I am known as Lamia."

Watching Gtore walk up, listens to his words.

"I believe the expression is you are not my type." said in an emotionless tone of voice.
Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.40pm
Triangle - Restaurant


As Cindy walks towards Frankenstein to check him out too, she pauses, Is that a very low 200Hz hum coming from Mr Stein? And that look in the eyes... Cindy has seen that look before. Scaning astral space...phew...no astral hazing...at least not much. OK not a cyber zombie. Even so I will need to be very careful around this one. He's going to explode soon, and I don't want to be the target.

Little of that concern appears on her well trained face as she bows, just slightly out of reach: "Greetings I am known as Cindy. I assume you here to meet Mr Johnson as well?"
Big Fella
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:40
Triangle - Restaurant


Gtore looks resigned to the brush off. "Maybe we can just be friends" and zaps a e-card to Lamias comm. frown.gif

There she goes again. The client is heading to Oh my god is that...yes it is. Its Damien Stein. Wow. eek.gif

Gtore moves over: "Mr Stein, I'm a big fan. May I get your autograph? I've always wondered how did you do that double trapping head butt on the Cardiac Enforcer in '71? It was so cool."
Digital Heroin
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:40
Triangle - Restaurant

Frankenstein walks in after most of the group has assembled at the greeting area, and immediately he gets the idea that his tiny (at least on him) smiley face tie might not exactly be to dress code. Not that he much cares, but the Doc might be sad to hear it. He will have to omit that detail when they talk later. It dawns on him after a moment that all these people asking about a party for Johnson might be up for the same job. Frank wonders a moment if that means interviews. He never was good at interviews. The press loved him, but usually because he was not exactly well spoken, and that was before the accident.

The mountain of a troll is about to address the maitre'd when Cindy walks up to him. He regards the bow with a raised eyebrow, and after a ponderous moment of deciding what the best course of action is, his earthquake inducing baritone issues the simplest of phrases. `I am. They call me-`

He is cut off by Gtore, who only moments before had been otherwise occupied hitting on the rather attractive woman by the maitre'd's station. He blinks a moment, processing the enthusiastic words. It was not so often he was recognized anymore. Then again he does not often leave the deeper parts of the Barrens these days, so he is not around people who recognize him - unless they recognize they had best run away. `It's Frankenstein now.` Not much on words, but then again he had never been. `We all here for Johnson?`
Big Fella
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:40
Triangle - Restaurant


Gtore nods "Mr Johnson? Yes."

"Are they new arms? Looks like a good Doc did them"

I need some of themGtore thinks wondering if the Doc would do some for him.
Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.40pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Cindy breaths in relief, doesn't sound as though Frankenstein is going to explode yet. Leaving Gtore to chat, she scans the others. If this is the new working group it's not bad.

Cindy moves around to make polite small talk to Derek, Dawn and Flash, all the while just keeping an unobtrusive check on the entrances and exits.

Digital Heroin
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.41pm
Triangle - Restaurant


`Doc?` Frankenstein blinks, and looks down at his hands a moment, flexing them. He could remember his old hands - big meaty things the size of a human head, all ugly and scarred, but powerful - and he missed them. `He did good work. Saved my life.` But how much of Damien Stein had survived that night?

He looks for a moment out over the restaurant, and to the maitre'd. `We gonna stand all night?`
Panticles
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.41pm
Triangle - Restaurant


"Ahhhh, so you are all with the Johnson party? If you would all please follow me I will take you to your table," replies Francois to all of the runners standing in front of his podium, the tone of his voice indicating that he doesn't care for any of you one bit.

Walking with long even steps from behind his podium Francois gestures imperiously for you all to follow him before leading you all into the restaurant proper. It's a short trip as the thin well dressed troll leads you right into a small dining area where a couple of patrons are seated eating dinner with a staff member, a human male dressed in an all black uniform with a discreet holographic triangle logo on the left side of his chest, hovers nearby. One of the patrons, a brown haired human male dressed in evening casual, is seated by himself and he grins at any of the runners that catches his eye with a set of what looks like stainless steel dentures.

Passing through the small dining area you turn left and find yourself in a much larger dining area where the patrons and staff are scattered over a much larger area. For such a large restaurant there doesn't seem to be many customers but it is fairly early in the evening so may pick up later on.

Turning left again Francois leads you finally to a separate dining room walled off from the rest of the restaurant. Seated at the end of the long table opposite the double doors you all just came in through is a heavily overweight dwarf dressed in a decent suit and who is completely bedecked in gaudy jewelery. After you have all filed in Francois says to the seated dwarf "Mr Johnson your...guests have arrived. Would you care to order now?"

"No, that will be all for now Francois. Please close the door after you."

Francois nods his head slightly in acknowledgement and leaves the room closing the sliding double doors firmly behind him.

Looking over you all the Johnson says in his deep roughhewn voice "I'm Mr Johnson. Before we get down to business can anybody tell me where the others are? There should be at least eight people here, but I only see six. Any of you folks know something I don't?"

[IMG]http://img209.imageshack.us/img209/3526/trianglefloorplan4.jpg[/IMG]
Big Fella
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:41
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room


Gtore coughs discretely "Mr Johnson: this is the Barrens you know."
Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.41pm
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room


Cindy has a look of concern on her face.

"Gtore: the door!

Mr Johnson is there any chance that your security has been compromised, and your competitors are mounting a counter operation? An attack about now would be expected should that be the case.

How confident are you about your internal security?"


Thanee
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:41
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room

Dawn looks around the restaurant as they are led through to the smaller, seperate room.

"Good evening, Mr. Johnson," she says, wondering what the talk about attacks and compromised security is all about, just because someone hasn't shown up to an invitation. There could be several reasons for that.

"I don't think that's a reason to get all paranoid, just because someone hasn't shown up. Considering the nature of this meeting, I would expect us to be able to handle quite a bit in terms of threats, should it come to that, don't you think?"

Looking at the various big folk around her, she was reasonably sure about that part.

Once everyone is shuffling to their seats, Dawn takes the time to shift her senses over to the astral and take a closer look at the Johnson and the other runners.
WearzManySkins
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.41pm
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room


Lamia opens greatcoat, slithers over to one of the chairs on the corner of the table nearest the entrance to the dining room, coiling up around the chair, making sure none of her body will get stepped one or bumped by those going past or around her.

Listening to Mr Johnson, via Comm-link verifies the clip loaded into her Crusader.

"I am Lamia, I know nothing about those here or not here. If this place is not secure let us move to place that is."

Observing Dawn looking on the astral plane, flicks her tongue in her general direction.

Watches where and how each in the room becomes seated.
Digital Heroin
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.41pm
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room


Frankenstein follows without question, moving like a glacier, slow but poised. He takes the walk as a chance to case the restaurant, and takes note of the general lack of patrons. Upscale, in Touristville. Must not be too well heard of, or maybe the location is just wrong. When they are escorted into the private dining room he takes in the sight of the man at the table with a detatched calm. Dwarf, lazy, too much jewlery. Must be the Johnson. Doc said to expect class. Frankenstein was not too sure this is what Doc expected.

When the question of the others comes, and Gtore answers, Frankenstein nods. It was the Barrens. Stuff happens. And then girl, Cindy, she overreats something fierce and it sets a frown on the massive troll's face. Unprofessional to show worry. Before he can caution her to calm down, however, the Latino girl in leather speaks up and says it better than he could. No need to be paranoid.

`People are not always reliable. They don't show, we get the job done, the job still gets done.`
Drace
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.41pm
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room


Derek blinks a few times and shakes his head as he enters the room, opening his mouth to scan the room in ultrasound, trying to cover it up as a yawn. Post-yawn he walks to the seat facing exact opposite to the Johnson and casually pulls it back and sits down. He eyes the rest of the group sitting and standing, including the johnson and flashes a toothy smile. Damn, fraggers really got to chill out...

"They could be late, are on other biz, decided not to show up, or something could have happened to them. Things do happen to people in our kind of work sadly, guess it is an occupational hazard."

Deciding to take charge of the meet, he sets his cyber ears' sound filter to the conversation in the current room, while also setting up a trigger incase the ambient sound outside the room from the rest of the restaurant changes and turns on his ear recording unit.

"We can wait a few more minutes for the other 2 if you would like Mr. Johnson, or if you would prefer we could discuss the business proposal now, and if they come later, they can be brought back up to speed."
Panticles
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.42pm
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room


Mr Johnson eyes up up all the runners before he finally speaks.

"I'm not waiting for the others to show up. Time is nuyen and while I'm sitting here I'm losing money. If the others get here before we're done I might, might, let them in on this action," growls Mr Johnson.

Reaching under the the table slowly, so nobody gets too jumpy, the dwarf pulls out a matt gray briefcase. Laying it on the table Mr Johnson rests his large beringed hands on top of it.

"Right then before we get down to the nitty gritty I want to make sure that you folks are interested. I'm offering you ten thousand nuyen each to do me a little job. If you're not interested this is the time to leave," says the Johnson before waiting for any of the runners to take their leave.
Thanee
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20:42
Triangle - Restaurant - Dining Room

Dawn looks at the dwarf.

What does he expect? That we show up here, but are not interested in hearing about his job offer?

"Well, I came here to learn more about the job you have to offer. So, yeah, I'm interested. Ten Kay definitely help to keep my interest. I sure won't do just about anything for that sum, but it's a good start. Before I can make a final judgement, I would need to know, however, what exactly we are talking about here. Or at the very least, have some idea of what you want to hire us for, if you do not want to go deeply into the details, yet."

She hasn't done a lot of shadow jobs, yet, just a few to get her started. Therefore, she cannot really judge very well, what to expect for the amount offered. Unlike some of the others, probably, she wasn't desperately in need for money, but let's face it, there are always things you want and you cannot afford, unless you are really, really, rich, so more money is always a good thing. This is also the reason, why she went looking for more lucrative sources of income. Being able to support her lifestyle was good, but there is always room for improvement. Ten thousand was a decent amount for sure, in fact it sounds like quite a lot, so she expects the job not to be too simple. A little job, he said. That surely was an understatement. But what's life without some complications...
Seth
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.42pm
Triangle - Restaurant


OK thinks Cindy 10,000 nuyen. Thats a decent amount of cash: but for what? To kill the president it is pitifully low, to scare a few gangers it is quite high. Well lets see what the job entails!

"I am interested in listening to your proposal. "
Digital Heroin
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.42pm
Triangle - Restaurant


The number rattles abou tin Frankenstein's skull a few moments, twisting about the maze synapses until it reaches the part of his grey matter that causes his lips to mouth the words 'ten thousand.' He has not heard that kind of figure since his fighting days, and even then he never saw that much of a take. With ten thousand he could really do something good for Doc.

`You have my attention.`

Odd phrase. Johnson already has his attention. In conversation people usually do. So the fact he needs to say it seems like some kind of strange. But he says it anyway, just to say something. Maybe that is why people say it. Or 'I'm listening.' Or 'Where's the beef?' Ok, so only Doc says that. Sometimes Frankenstein worries about Doc. He always says odd things.
Xahn Borealis
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.42pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Bit was late. It was his own fault, but he didn't really see it that way. Coal was a good fixer, short and to the point, Bit liked that. His customary icon was a bit OTP, but Bit knew all too well how easy it was to project some digital facsimile of the self, as opposed to the meat. He'd never tell anyone, but Bit always felt nervous when dealing with people. No way to hide away your shortcomings, forced to play the cards you're dealt. In the 'Trix, Bit dealt his own deck. He internally chuckled at the pun, idly fingering the manual controls on his 'link.

This was Bit's first shadow job where he'd had to show up. In person. He was busy crunching code when he got the call from Coal telling to show at the Triangle for a job. Bit almost instantly hung up, when he heard Johnson was sticking 500 on it, just for showing up. Still, Bit simply HAD to finish this last megapulse of code, before jacking out and showing up outside a fairly flashy restaurant in Redmond. He noticed the small tag someone had left at the entrance and, with a thought, overwrote it with his own, a small animated glyph showing a simple dot containing a single digit which alternated between 1 and 0, spelling out the word 'bit' in binary.

Slaving his public 'link to his 'work' 'link and setting his PAN to 'ghost' mode, Bit entered the Triangle. When the maitre'd asked, "Hello, my name is Francois, do you have a reservation?" Bit nearly jumped out at his skin at the troll in the expensive-looking suit. It was all he could do to stammer out, "J-Johnson."

At this, Francois adopts an even more haughty expression, if that were possible, and remarks, "Well. It seems you are late. I will escort you to your table, but don't expect he shall be too pleased at your late arrival." Bit nods at this and follows him through the restaurant, head down like a naughty schoolboy being taken to the principal's office. Francois introduces him, "Mr. Johnson, sorry to interrupt, but it seems we have another guest who has recently arrived."
Big Fella
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.42pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Gtore thinks to himself: Mmm. Firstly I am already being paid to guard Cindy. Secondly this guy is going to pay me to go with her on a job...which I am already being paid to do. Easy Money!

"I'm with her " pointing at Cindy hoping she says "yes"
Drace
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.43pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Price right off the bat? He must be desperate, or he needs to get to the point fast...

Derek seems to thing about it for a second and smiles, giving the dwarf a nod. "I am more than willing to stay and listen for a 10 thousand job. That doesnt mean I am signed on though, I'd rather know what I am signing up for to see if the price is right"

He doesn't even pause to look over to the new guy joining them, keeping his focus on the johnson, since he heard Francois first and no one else was reaching for their weapons.
WearzManySkins
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.43pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Lamia listens to the Johnson's words and those of the others around her.

There is more to this than just the money, one must gently and steadily search for the bait/truth. He seems to be pushing very hard, maybe too hard, but lets see how many of the warm bloods are as astute.

"I too am here to listen to your proposal, the money you offer is generous, but until I hear more details about the work, I will hold on my judgment. What is the prey or target you would have us seek, and what spines or barbs does the prey or target have?"

Lamia slightly turns her head to briefly examine the late comer then her attention goes back to Johnson.
Xahn Borealis
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.43pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Did he say 'ten thousand'? This crowd looks like a lot of bruisers and mystical types, that amount, split equally... Not much with this many people.

Bit knew better than to vocalise his doubts, however, and listens to the conversation.

That troll girl talks like a shaman. Probaly a Snake shaman from the way she's flicking her tongue about like that. Oh, man, Johnson looks pissed. Why couldn't this meet be virtual? I could've saved time and shown up and kept coding at the same time! This place has probably got more bugs than Chicago. Is it worth scanning for listening devices? Mom was always on about 'professional courtesy'...

Loading his wireless scansoft, Bit checks for any hidden nodes broadcasting in the local area.
marcgarc
18th January 2072, Seattle, Redmond Barrens, Touristville - 20.44pm
Triangle - Restaurant


Damn Seattle traffic! Traffic jams on the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge are becoming worse. Staring at the crush of vehicles, Tenzin felt happy not to be licensed to drive or having his own land vehicle, it was much faster moving on foot. However, walking was not an option to cover the 17 miles between the International District and the Redmond restaurant where he had his appointment, so he decided to take public transportation. Just arrived at Redmond, 15 minutes later than the scheduled time, and was now waiting in the lobby of the Triangle, waiting for the waiter.

Vitaly, the dealer closely linked to the Russian Vory V Zakone, had called him and commented that he had heard fresh news about a Johnson looking some fresh meat to play well-paid job. Was very short of money since his arrival in Seattle, and the possibility of getting some Nuyens in his pocket must never be wasted. The motel room had much of his income, and then there was the damn outstanding debt to the Vory, for the money they advanced him to purchase his ticket to Seattle.

He had put on their best clothes to attend the Triangle. He had chosen his beige suit and linen look fabric with signature Mortimer, composed of two parts: loose pants and a kind of knee-length straight coat on an orange shirt. Verified that the two ceramic knives were well hidden in the recesses of the suit, and placed the bronze sword on his back. Found that the two Predator IV, in separate quick draw holsters to the height of the thighs, had a magazine inserted. And waited...

After only a few seconds, a scowling troll embedded in a suit that was to cost more money than Tenzin had seen together in his life, approached the desk in the hall, from within the establishment.
"Good evening, sir. May I help you anyway?", offers the troll, trying to disguise and hide some obvious discomfort
"A Johnson has something to tell", state Tenzin absently.
"May have already finished counting all the cool stuff he kept in his hat. You arrive with more than a quarter of an hour late. Follow me", says the troll in a haughty way, now without trying to hide in any way his growing discomfort.

Tenzin follows the suited troll through several sparsely populated rooms of the Triangle, and finally crossing a double glass doors, behind which there is a group of people already seated at a table presided over by a dwarf dressed elegantly, which seems to be the Johnson of Time ...

From the threshold, Tenzin takes a general overview of the room, bows his head, and is routed to the nearest empty chair.
"Sorry about being so late. Damn Seattle traffic... "
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