0630 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - a bit early at the Last Drop, but not bad

The smell of frying eggs and onions told her Johnny was already at work, even before she heard the soft metallic shift of the lock and the heavy metal shutter lifted in front of her.

"Téch, girl, thought ye'd be across a couple borders by now. Ye look bleedin' knackered. Bad dose?"

Anne ran her fingers through her short pink-tinged blonde curls. (She'd chopped it short and burnt it in an alley garbage pail almost an hour back.) "Been a long night, has. Got the soykaf on?"

"Keep yer alans on, girl, it's coming. This weather'd freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Aha," and his tone became lightly interrogative as the two of them began to unload the upended chairs, working their way toward the back kitchen, "ye've got on your questin' face."

Anne blinked, more suggestion than anything actually visible through the thick lenses. "Ka?"

"Ye've got something you need her to do. Right?"

Anne sighed. "Right."

"Well, she's had a long night too. She'll be in when she's in and not an instant before, and I'm guessin' since ye've donned yer workin' garb yer question will keep that long, if ye don't keel over first." All the chairs are down now, the counter's been cleared of cats and wiped down, and he's retrieving a covered plate from the kitchen that's making Anne's stomach growl just by the smell of it. "Ach, away with ye. Go, eat. And lose the Pred before the coppers get here. That's not the kind of attention ye want, or us either."

500 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Home

After dropping Alleycat off at the Inferno Blaze drove himself home, still filled with frustration at his difficulty, and his inability to protect the last of his family. Arriving home Blaze pulled into the underground lot beneath his apartment.

After a short walk up the stairs, the elevator had been out yet again, but Blaze knew better than to expect that to change, Blaze opened the door and dropped his coat off on the ground. The first thing Blaze did once inside his house was call Max, informing him of the close call, but the overall fuitility of the night.

Looking out the opened window Blaze gazed at the houses and the apartments, each holding peacefully sleeping families. All of them whole, all of them content and protected by their mother and father corps, those companies that have fuined so many lives, and threaten to take away Blaze's entire family. Those companies that are so evil, yet hide their vile nature behind a kind and cheery facade. Those companies that Blaze knew had ended his first life and given him this second, harder, life.

Feeling his frustration and the exaustion of the day Blaze fetl his control snap. Gazing at the astral and sky above the buildings Blaze focused for one moment, letting his anger materialized and burn in the night sky.

The fireball Blaze released could bee seen as only a bright a flash in the night sky, a light that only the few early rising wage slaves could see. Settling back, his anger burned out of him, Blaze closed the window and fell into his bed trying to get at least a little sleep before another long and exausting day.

15:37:24 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou climbs into the car beside Miss Omura, setting his pack between his legs.

"905 West Park Avenue, Tacoma, please", he tells the cabbie.

He keeps an eye on Miss Omura's body language to try and figure out what she's thinking. Something about this unsettled him. Why would a prim and proper Japanese woman be going to the slums of Tacoma?

15:51:24 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Miss Omura doesn't speak during the fifteen minute cab ride across town, her long black hair hiding her face from Tenmou's gaze. Her hands remain folded in her lap, holding her small black purse. Apart from the incessant drone of traffic, the only sound that fills the cab is the discordant electronic beats of the Caribbean Guitar Rock station the driver has tuned in.

A chill wind cuts down the street when the cab pulls up in front of the Tacoma address, biting at exposed skin. Tenmou pays for the ride before stepping out, holding the door for his charge. She slides gracefully from the back seat, pausing on the curb beside him. A hint of perfume finds its way to him before the wind snatches it away. She shivers suddenly, as if cold, then turns her face to Tenmou for the first time. He's not sure what is more striking: the delicate procelain beauty of her face, or the tears streaking down her cheeks.

"Please," she says, her voice small with emotion, "please take me away."

15:52:43 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou has to make a concerted effort to keep his facial expression neutral.

"Crap..." he thought.

He motions to the cabbie to please wait before turning back to Miss Omura.

"Miss Omura, you're going to have to come clean with me. I am bound to your uncle and if you want me to stake my reputation and my livelihood on not following through with a job, you're going to have to convince me. What is going to happen when you go through that door?"

15:53:03 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Miss Omura bows her head again, her dark hair falling over her face. Her voice is a quiet sigh.

"I will no longer exist."

1415 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Dragon sighed. "I got a place, it's not much, but it's place. Still, we're not dealing with the bigger problem. No matter where we go right now, if we don't shake this tail, we still aren't going to be safe or have a place where we can plan or rest up. I'm thinking we should go somewhere public, let security work for us instead of against us."

11:45 Saturday 6th January, 2063- Southside Tacoma, Seattle, UCAS

Knight yawns, blinking into wakefulness. He tilts his head looking for the chrono reading off his wristphone, sharp elven eyes picking out the demi illuminated digits easily in the snug dark of the `coffin`.

Nearly midday he winces as pain lances through his shoulder reminding him of how close his escape had been. Luckily he had been only bruised. I hope Calvin isnt expecting me anywhere

Knight studied his wristphone again. Nodding in a mix of satisfaction and annoyance at the message reader that indicated 0 messages waiting.

Well, he`s a busy man and he`s already done a fair bit for me. Best check out the lay of the land while i`m waiting.

Pondering the security of his current location Knight rested back and closed his eyes. Steadying his breathing for a few seconds he felt the sensation of detachement that always came whenever he projected. His astral form flowed free from his body and stepped out into the hotel`s corridor. Taking a few moments he surveyed his surroundings noting many of the coffins were vacated, though one or two still house slumbering forms. Content that he was not about to be observed Knight`s astral body drifted back inside the coffin and reconnected with his meat form waiting inside.

Blinking a few times Knight took another moment or two more to re-adjust from astral senses back into flesh ones before opening the door at the foot of the coffin. Sliding out into the corridor he gave the area another quick visual check before pulling his coat from the cubicle and slipping it around his body. Next was the ornate katana. "Rosekiss," he smiled as he breathed the weapon`s name in a whisper before looping its scabbard leashes into the appropriate eyelets within the coat to keep it concealed. Finally the Cavelier Deputy was carefully stowed in the concealed holster strapped to the small of his back. Again the coat hiding its presence too.

Preparations for the afternoon done with he sealed the coffin again. Setting his wristphone to alert him to any messages along with calls Knight walks down the corridor into the hotel reception, giving a passing nod to the human woman who was now manning the desk, and out into Tacoma.

0908 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

The sound of the door bells blinks Andie awake. What ... where ...

Then he remembered: back of Sara's shop, fragging interrupted night, something about Thursday (what day was it anyway? too easy to lose track of people time) ... circulation!

With that he's wide awake and bolting up to check it. Something's obviously disrupted the mana flows around the circulation. Something's a bit off, possibly seriously, and he can't begin to fix it until he finds out the hows and whys.

12:00 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - The Streets of Tacoma

Striding three blocks down Catrun Avenue Knight steps off the curb and crosses the slush filled street. A light snow has begun to fall, the wet type that always manages to slip down under your collar. Feeling a shiver work its way up his spine Knight lets his mind wander away from the cold, away from the dampness, and right onto the realization that even the simplest tasks become major tribulations when your thrown into a new and alien location.

At least I can't get lost here. Being lost would imply that I knew my way around to begin with.

The chuckle that escapes his lips warms him a bit against the snow as Knight takes a right turn down Lennox street. Knight knew that he could always reference the Seattle maps that he had downloaded onto his cyberterminal, but there was something satisfying about learning the streets by wandering. . .adventuresome.

Beep. . . Beep

The message indicator on his wrist phone pulled Knight's attention away from his walk and onto biz. Stepping underneath the awning of the deli he'd just walked past Knight cued up the waiting text message.

Knight, hope you got some sleep. Go to a bar called Leatherneck's in Redmond. Ask the bartender to let you speak with Jackson. He will be expecting you this afternoon.

Closing down the display on his wristphone, Knight steps inside the warm deli to take a look at his maps and plan his next move.

0745 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

The call comes in halfway through the breakfast rush, while she's doing that brisk walk back to the kitchen to pick up a fresh basket of soda bread. At least she didn't actually have it in her hands at the time. "Moshi moshi?"

"Alleycat, it's Avalanche." He's either in-Matrix or on-transponder, the words have that slightly-too-quick, slightly-too-fluid flow to them. "I'm still working on fixing your coding, might not be able to make it to the meet. Can you and Blaze cover?"

The automatic quick check tells her that only Mouse is within normal earshot, and she'd automatically turned away from the security cameras as soon as the thing had buzzed in her ear. "Can do, and I'll let him know -- later, let him grab some shut-eye first. Anything else?"

"Yes. Don't ever give me anything like that again."

She winced. "Roger that."

She becomes aware the kid's staring at her as the line clicks off. "Y'sure cleans up your milspeak when you're belling."

Takes her a moment even apart from the accent to decipher the last word -- right, comming, got it -- er, how did he catch it? Got to work harder on restoring proper subvocals. "Yup," she says finally. And then, "You're burning your rashers."

"They're supposed to be like that." She can hear the echoes of Johnny's cadences, wonders vaguely just how many times the kid's heard the phrase. "Who were dissin' you?"

"MYOB," she says absently, noting that Hobbes had just walked in, pausing to talk with someone she couldn't hear at all.

"Why? You sure don'. You gonna spill or what?"

Anne sighed. "Anyone ever learn you 'bout the cat?"

"They's too lazy to tag mice. D'rather scrap with other alleycats."

She's played groupie and tailchased most of the night, she's been trying to keep a frustrated shaman from getting both of them killed, she's aware the value on her debt-envelope is ticking down with every second she's kept from speaking with Hobbes, she's missed her sunrise ritual, she's more than a bit tired, she's just discovered she's got to cover for Avalanche in negotiating for something she hadn't wanted to bring in in the first place, she's been reamed over something that she fragging well knows she knows how to do better, there's all the rest, and now she's just plain fed up. "Bad moon, kid," she says in a soft, dead voice. Poised in stillness.

And then, as suddenly, it drains out of her and Anne turns on her heel, sweeps up the basket of soda bread and scuttles off.

12:15 Saturday January 6th, 2063- Streets of Tacoma

Breathing a sigh of relief as the warmer air of the small deli surrounds him Knight quickly picks a small table near the door and slides his cyber terminal free from his carryall. A couple of minutes is all it takes to plug the location given in the message into the terminal and get it searching the public access maps of the city he`d pulled before fleeing the Tir all together.

A few seconds later the terminal blips with its completed search data.

"Morkahn..." Knight swears softly in his native tongue "..bad looking neighborhood and its across the other side of the `plex..." and here`s my own fine self, with no cred on stick and no transport save my feet. His mind finished where his voice`s soft tones had left off.

He punched a few more keys on the terminal, uploading a few street names onto his wristphone before unplugging the unit. Glancing about the deli, content to see the place still nicely becomming jammed with the lunch `hour` rush, Knight makes his way to the door and out into the chill streets of Tacoma. Pulling his collar up again he hits the message reply option on his phone, speaking softly into its mic as he walks through the sleet like snow.

"Picked up your link chummer. Echo the request, be there in a few hours. Anything I should know before i get there?" he pauses a moment before hitting the send option deciding to leave his message at that.

Checking his directional notes Knight heads off through Tacoma. After some 30 minutes worth of walking through sleet and slushy snow he ducks into a small stairwell, sheltering in its overhang, glancing across the street to get a street referance. He clicks on his wristphone again, keying in a number of a differant friend to Calvin.

"Portia precious, " he sends the voice message, speaking swiftly in Sperethial "I find myself within the fair city that you claim now as your home. I must beg the request of transportation from ye for the weather is poor and i needs must travel far unto a meeting of potential great import. I beg thee, precious friend, answer me swiftly and accept my word to repay thy aid in this endeavor. I stand currently upon the Avenue of Driftway that lay within the district of Tacoma, but i shall continue to move. Send word to me iffen ye recieve this and i shall tell ye anew of my placing" he hit the send function and decides to wait a few moments in the stairwell, just incase she is near her phone to answer her message line and call him directly back.

1420 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Steet Clinic

"Normally I would say that hiding in plain sight can be the most safe option. But this team already had planned a very public hit in front of the lunch time crowd at a poplular restaruant. Nothing would prevent them from making another such attempt."

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you Virg' but that hit squad had planned on the covert action of their sniper, all hell broke lose when we forced them into the open. Perhaps we can isolate a controlled location . . ." Dragon mused outloud. No doubt running a myriad amount of possible tactical scenarios though his head.

Virgil would have been happy to focus his attention to planning the group's next move, however something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something he was forgetting.

"Galina, in all the confusion with the sick girl we rushed here I forgot the true intenion of our visit. Is the women we brought to you yesterday still able to speak with us?"

Frag I need to keep my mind focused. Things aren't going to get any easier to keep straight for a long while.

15:54:02 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"What do you mean, 'you will no longer exist'?" Tenmou asked. "I can return you to your uncle if you would be placed in physical danger..."

0910 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie rubs the sleep from his eyes to awake up and starts taking measurements of the circulation to see if everything is on track.

He stokes the furnance a little to soften the circulation a little and tests the integrity of the alloy's matrix.

Using Aura Reading, Astral Perception, and Psychometry Andie will start gathering data.

15:54:35 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"It is my uncle who has sent me here, to this place which will change the fabric of my existance. If you do not take me from here, the woman who you return to my uncle will be a different being. Please, help me."

She shivers again, eyes closed as she responds quietly to Tenmou's questions.

1420 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Unseen enemies, although at least now a few of them had names. No, Dragon silently corrected himself, only the hired team had names, and street names at that. And maybe they knew the name of the megacorp which had hired them and Sybersnake, and maybe even that was just so much chaff. Couldn't say he didn't have leads, though ... although with the way things had been going, he wouldn't have been surprised if they ended up right up there alongside the grassy knoll.

What did Saeder-Krupp want with outing a Seattle shapeshifter working in a mailroom? Why was it so important to eliminate any trace of such an investigation, even before it succeeded? What was the point?

"Sook," Galina was saying, drawing them with her along the corridor, with Sybersnake trailing behind silently. Very unlike Sybersnake, that. "You take her with, gets her debunked. Can't beHeal more. She's still shocky in the head, but she's walkers."

"Um, Galina," the shaman began carefully, "what do you mean, 'she's still shocky in the head'?"

"She's retro. Common enough. Till she's straight, the Mike's got her grounded."

Hearing the formal sorcery term amid the rest of what passed for English didn't startle Virgil as much as once it had. Somewhere along the line, the Snake shaman had picked up a fearsome compilation of magical education, even if little of it would be recognised in any accredited school. Though on the surface there might seem to be little intersection between the peaceful wisdom of Snake and the path of the totem warrior, her shamans had enough of their own battles to fight. Virgil did not envy them. If not any easier or harder than theirs, his own path was by far the more straightforward.

Still, an odd term to use, in the context of the very mundane Father Bremen. And ... "Mike"? Ah yes, "priest". Juliette said once that it came from Michael, the archangel of battles -- "That'd make him yours, Virgil" -- and was saved for the more direct priests. Despite the seriousness of the situation he had to smile. That would certainly describe Father Bremen. That left only "retro" ...

"Here."

The troll turned, staggered slightly, caught herself on a wall. It would have been a subtle thing in anyone else, but there was nothing subtle about Galina when she was in her element. "Are you all right?" asked Virgil quickly.

She shook him off. "Sleep, is all. Get her, scram. Don't need more patients."

Virgil nodded. "Then take care not to become one yourself."

But he knew it was like asking Juliette to give up her calling. It was another part of Tyr's wisdom never to choose a battle you could not possibly win.

He knew he'd hesitated too long when Galina gently shoved him into the room. Gently, that is, for Galina. It wasn't a big room in which to crowd four beds and another troll, and if the chair had been any closer to the door he knew he would have gone sprawling.

Of the four beds, only one was occupied. Virgil knew her more by her aura than by sight: so changed was she from what he had so barely rescued ... was it only a day ago? She was sitting up on the bed, dressed, her booted feet swinging idly to and fro. She'd clearly been talking with Father Bremen when Virgil had stumbled in, Dragon and Sybersnake entering more cautiously behind him. Someone had left a coat for her on the bed. By the feel of the weather, she would need it.

Bald. When he had pulled her out, her hair had been utterly singed off.

The priest was about to say something but she got in first: "I'm told I owe you my life. Do I know you?"

0915 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Everything is not on track. Awake now, it takes Andie less than five minutes to discover that there'd been some kind of mana surge through the area during the night. The books said that orichalcum in process was extremely sensitive to that kind of thing. Now he has the proof of it.

He doesn't have more time for analysis just then, whatever it is, it's still rippling through his circulation, and it's all he can do to try to get it stabilised.

At least, with a sigh, he straightens. He's done what he can. It should be enough.

He was lucky this time. Next time ... But there won't be a next time, will there? This was a tiny ripple, as mana surges go. He's felt and cast through much stronger ones regularly. If one of those were to contact his circulation, it's toast --and not in the way of a dedication to Toaster.

1423 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

That's certainly one way to look at it Dragon thought sardonically, although he was careful to keep his face expressionless. We helped her, sure, but only for what she could tell us. Glancing over at Virgil, he amended his thought slightly. OK, I only rescued her for what she could tell us. Still, in this case at least, it turns out maybe his goody-goodyness will help us after all.

Despite the numerous questions rolling in his mind, Dragon was smart enough to shut up and let the shaman do the talking. Cold, mechanical, distant...and that's what Selina said about him when he was trying to be 'normal'. At least, what passed for 'normal' to him. God only knew what he was like to others when he was all about the biz.

Not that he cared, really. Emotions, while necessary, were not particularly helpful in the middle of a firefight. Cold, sterile professionalism carried him his whole life, and well, if it wasn't broken, why fix it? Of course, that was the problem, wasn't it? Maybe it was broken, and he just never knew it...

Still, those were matters best saved for thought when there wasn't a long list of people waiting in the wings to whack them. Stepping to one side slightly with Sybersnake, he waited for Virgil to begin speaking.

0750 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

At the door she turns sideways and slips by to avoid crashing into Johnny, coming in. She can feel his narrow look on her back as she quickly replentishes the on-table baskets of soda bread. How the fragging hell had she managed to miss Hobbes? Damn the kid!

Two regulars call out their orders to her as she does the soykaf rounds, she smiles automatically and files them away in her memory and calls them out as soon as she's back through the swinging door, in the same motion pulling another completed order onto her tray and back out the door --

Checks too suddenly, keeps the hot soykaf from splashing all over Hobbes only since the tray tilted sideways in her hands, and then the full plate slid down it, pulling it further off balance, and the mug of soykaf is sliding too, everything is sliding and falling and splattering against the tile in a small fireworks of shattering stoneware.

A couple of customers at the counter break into applause. Hobbes just glances at her without expression, then hands her a dishrag and continues into the kitchen.

When she's got it cleaned up, she goes back into the kitchen to get rid of the sopping dishcloth and shards and to wipe off her tray. The two of them are so obviously waiting for her she could spit.

"You're way off yer game, girl," Johnny says quietly.

That's not what she expected to hear. Come to think of it, she's not sure what she expected to hear, but that wasn't it.

"I think your time with us is nearly done," adds Hobbes.

She goes to the sink and begins attacking her tray with the cloth. No idea what to say. No idea even whether there was anything that could be said.

"Ye've been a good waitress," says Johnny, and since it's the first time he's said anything on the subject, she's so far beyond speechless the concept's long since ceased to have any real meaning. "Ye'll be a good one for a few days yet," he adds, and she discovers that speechless still had some way to go. "But," he says finally, "ye're no waitress. Ye never were."

Is this where they turn her in? There's enough nuyen in it even for a pair as established as they. She's thinking that she should be poised to fight, to run, should feel the cold adrenaline sluicing through her body, but all she can feel is tired.

"Two worlds," Hobbes is saying ... gently? "I don't know what you came from originally, but you seem to have done well enough, two nights ago. Much better than I'd expected, tell the truth. I'm not sure anymore I know who you are. But what you are, right now, is tired -- and it's not the kind of tired that sleep gets rid of."

"Right at this moment," adds Johnny, "it's getting in the way of being even a halfway decent waitress."

That gives her back her voice. "No, it's not gettin' in the way, really --"

Her earplug phone chooses that moment to buzz again, and she flicks it automatically to the messenger:

0755 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

Hobbes opens it, leafs through what's inside. A part of Alleycat is noticing that although it looks casual enough, the ork, too, is cautious in the way she's handling it. No fingerprints. Minimal contact.

"What's this?" asks Hobbes finally.

"Credstick," she answers almost reflexively. Bit of an ID package. Mebe you can use it?"

The talismonger smiles tightly. "Not a waitress, no."

"Came off a corper's purse," says the girl levelly, though the words come out tumbling one on top of the other. "It's gen. The shaman and I, we needed in, someone at the Paradigm Shift took his cousin and he's cryin' to get her back, got nothin' though, just the matchbook an' --"

The hand brings her to a halt almost more so than the words. "Slow up," says Johnny. "Take a breath," adds Hobbes; and then, "All right, from the top, you were looking for this shaman's sister?"

"Cousin," the girl corrects automatically, even as Johnny adds, "This isn't what ye sent her on." Quietly. Not quite a growl. Definitely a warning.

"Life's messy," says Hobbes. "Life doesn't stop for a run." A bit of shared history in their shared gaze, unspoken, against the background calls for soykaf refills. Rolling his eyes Mouse slides past them, needing both hands to balance the heavy pot, and his teacher breaks the gaze to step into the kid's place at the stove. A plume of black, gritty smoke rises from the wok as he stirs. There's something vaguely incongrous about watching bacon and sausages sizzle in a wok ... even if they are of the soy variety.

0758 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

Looking at Johnny and then back at Anne , Hobbes continues softly, "Keep going girl, like I said, from the beginning. And while you're at it, why don't you tell me what you think this envelope is worth to me. May as well hear everything you've got to say in one go around, neh?"

Brushing her hair back out of her eyes, Anne takes a deep breath to calm herself. If they were going to turn you in, they'd have done it by now. No need to play so nice...right? Hell, if I can't trust them, and they're going to screw me over, there's not much I can do about it anyway. May as well play it straight, and see where this all ends up...

With that resolved in her mind, albeit shakily, she gathers her thoughts and continues...

0920 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

After stabilizing the batch and getting the process back on track Andie wonders about the mana surge and the cause of it. Frankly, I am surprised it got through the shop's wards. If it got through the wards then the cause must have been a major event...

Andie checks the shop's wards to see if their still intact and checks on Sara to see if she is OK. The shop should be open by now. She's probably out front...

15:55:12 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"Change you? How? And why would your uncle submit you to such a process?" Tenmou asked with increasing confusion.

"What have I got myself into?" he asked himself.

15:55:46 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"My uncle is a very powerful business man. I do not understand his motives. I do not know why I must do this. But I know that it will destroy me."

Another tear makes its way down her pale cheek, and despite the depth of her feeling on the matter, Tenmou gets the impression that it's almost more humiliating to her to be so emotional in front of a stranger.

1423 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Taking a short step towards the sitting women Virgil extended his right foward in a gentle manner while keeping his left hand behind his back. As he offered the slight women his right hand Virgil motioned for Dragon and Sybersnake to back up.

She's probably barely keeping her nervousness in check right now. Knowing first hand how quickly the brutal stare of his mercencary friend could ice over a person's veins.

"My name is Virgil and I'm happy to see that you are in better health."

Waiting to see if the women would take accept his hand Virgil focused his attention to the aura surrounding her. The part of her with which he was more familiar.

Are you afraid? Do you feel that you are being chased? . . . Pushing through the static that any such clinic collects astrally Virgil strained for any hint of what this stranger might be thinking.

"I hope that our own Father has made your awaking less startling. May I have the pleasure of your name?"

1250 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Streets of Tacoma

Rubbing his lithe hands together in an attempt to fend off the mounting cold Knight hunkered down underneath the overhang to contemplate the call he'd just made.

Will she be suprised? Pleased?

Beep. . . Beep!

Not really needing to check the incoming number, but doing so upon instinct Knight queues up the call and is greeted by a voice with enough spice to make him forget the slush dripping down his collar.

What are you doing down here? Wait. . don't tell me now, we can talk in person. I'm actually on Farnsworth Avenue shopping for an outfit for tonight. Walk north on Driftway until it intersects Farnsworth, I'll meet you outside of Bellezza Moderna. Will that work for you?

12:50, Saturday January 6th- Streets of Tacoma

Knight answers Portia`s sultry and superb tones with his own soft and cultured voice.

"Good to hear from you, Portia precious. Up the Driftway you say? give me a moment..." he cues the list downloaded from his CMT Portal "...okay i got it, onto Farnsworth and outside your glitzy fashion outlet... Belle Modern?..."

Portia sighs in slight exasperation "Ballezza Moderna..really Knight i`m surprised at you..."

He chuckles softly, getting a rise out of her grants him a moments respite from the pain of recent events. "I know Portia..i know. Take me about half an hour to make it there, the route seems simple enough, but then i`ve only been in Seattle for a few hours...as you said we`ll speak face to gorgeous face." he chuckles again

"Knight...you do tease..." replies the husy female voice on the line

"Always have, always will. See you in thirty, precious." his only answer is her line disconnecting with the sound of her own smirking.

Well, at least its good to be able to smile again. If only for a while.

Tucking his hands back into the pockets of the coat, Knight turns and walks from the underhang down the street, heading for the Driftway. Idly kicking at a discarded screemsheet as the chill wind blows it against his legs and the snow swirls in about him.

It actually takes him little over twenty minutes to find his way along the roads through Tacoma, heading closer towards Downtown with every tread. Buildings change from semi-derilicts and store houses into well maintained apartment complexes and high quality shops and stores. Small crowds of people walk along the sidewalks and crowded buses roll past in amidst the press of GridGuided traffic.

His sharp eyes scan the shop front as the building he is seeking looms up further down the street.

Ballezza Moderna, flash place. Not Nova-hot, but flash.

His lips perk into a tiny smile as he notes the tall and slender figure that simpley screams from her stance the ideals of poise and grace. The elf woman turns and looks at him, warm hazel eyes meeting his own sharp green orbs.

"You are early. Knight" she comments rolling her words, almost purring them.

"Better early than late. Portia precious. Except to ones own funeral" he offers in return "How`s the shopping going?..." looking to make light banter instead of filling in her inquisitive nature upon the reason of why he`s in Seattle earlier than planned and alone.

1425 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Willingly, trustingly, she takes Virgil's hand. No fear in her aura, not in the slightest.

"My name," she says, letting it trail a little. "I was rather hoping you could help me with that."

Virgil blinks. Before he can say anything else, Father Bremen has drawn him aside a little, inasmuch as is possible in such a small room. "Like I told you on the phone, she's not quite there yet." The woman sitting on the bed rolled her eyes, but remained silent. "Problem for you and me, but good for her. I've explained to her what Galina said to me, that it's the mind's natural way of dealing with extreme trauma, and that her memory should be restored in time."

"Hate to break it to you," said Dragon from the hallway, "but time is what we don't have." Well, it wasn't like he was speaking to the woman now, was it?

"Yes. Well." The priest seemed to have difficulty meeting his eyes -- or Virgil's, for that matter -- and finally compromised by staring at the floor. "She also said there was a way around that."

"And she said one of these guys would know how!" the woman stated firmly, in the tone of someone whose mind is made up.

"She said she wouldn't do it herself, that she didn't think it was a good idea," negotiated the priest, but the woman was having none of it. "She's fragged, sure it's not a good idea for her, but you'll do it hon, right? Woman to woman? Human to human?"

In her worn hand-me-downs, almost completely exiled into the hallway, Sybersnake is looking utterly confused by the sudden attention being focused on her.

0920 Tuesday, January 9, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

The shop's wards are not intact. Neither are the separate wards around the enchanting room. And for a very good reason, Andie realises with that sudden sinking feeling: with all that's gone on in the last 24 hours, he's forgotten completely to renew them. And now he'll have to do it from scratch, seven hours for the main shop area, and another seven hours he doesn't have for the separate wards around the workshop. When Sara had added that as one of the conditions of rental, he'd argued that having to maintain his own separate wards around the workshop was redundant, even if Sara did choose to keep her most sensitive materials there. Now it looked as though the slight difference in time between the failure of the shop's wards and those of the workshop was the only thing that had saved his circulation at all.

It's more time than he dares take away from an already finicky circulation -- but at the same time he doesn't dare not take it. Or maybe he could quickly outsource it to John Smith -- that's the kind of thing he does, right? Or maybe he could get away for now with a very low-powered ward? one that would only take about an hour to construct?

This whole commitment thing is starting to look like a lot more work than he had planned on. 60 hours a week, a low to medium income. Right about now, 60 hours a week is starting to look like a vacation.

And of course, it just figures that once again it isn't Sara who's up front behind the counter. Quietly polishing his spectacles as he sorted out the new stock arrivals. He'd cut off the discussion he'd been having over the wristphone when Andie had moved aside the heavy curtain concealing the enchanting workshop.

It takes more willpower than Andie knew he had, not to just chuck the whole thing there and then.

1426 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

His gaze shifting from the women's eager face to the equally befuddled expressions of Dragon and Sybersnake, whom seemed to be looking at him for an explanation, Virgil sat in his own stunned silence. Looking to Father Bremen offered no further insight, no light at the end of the tunnel, as he was still content to stare at the scuff marks on the toes of his black loafers.

I thought she was going to suggest that I attempt to probe her mind. That is something that Galina would not want to do, and though I don't relish invading the mind of an innocent victim, I certainly cannot oppose myself to it in the way that a devoted healer can.

The gentle sensation of the women's hand trembeling within his brought Virgil's attention back to her gaze. Trying his best to not look as ignorant as he was of the situation, the only reply Virgil could manage was, "I'm sorry miss, whatever do you mean?"

1426 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Stepping slightly in front of Sybersnake protectively, Dragon said calmly, levelly, "Perhaps you should explain further ma'am. I think we're all a bit confused here, and I think it would best for all parties involved if we had a better understanding of what you're talking about." Especially for you, was what he didn't add.

At first he'd assumed she meant a mind probe. Healer wouldn't do it? No problem, Virgil could. Except...judging by the confused look on his friend's face, and the fact that the woman was looking at Sybersnake, Dragon guessed it was something else entirely. But what?

If she thinks we'll sacrifice Sybersnake for her, she's got another think coming. Whatever we need, we don't need it that badly. But I don't think it's anything really twisted or whatever...but I sure as frag am pretty lost here.

Turning to Virgil, the expert on all things magical, and Father Bremen, who obviously knew more than he was letting on, he prompts, "Well Virgil, Father, what's she talking about?"

1426 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Father Bremen sighed. "She thinks there's something magical one of you can do to give her back her memory."

"Damn straight," says the woman, still looking expectantly at Sybersnake.

1427 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Still confused as to what she thinks that Sybersnake could possibly do for her, involving magic no less Virgil continues under the assumption that she is just confused as to whom amongst them posses magical abilites.

"Miss I do not believe there is anything that our mundane companion can do to magically aid your memory. However I might be able to uncover some of the things that you seem to have buried."

"What exactly did Galina discuss with you two Father Bremen?"

0758 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

The woman's still seeing "Anne", more or less, and that's what ends up finally grounding her. "Was like this," she begins finally -- and then hesitates: "Did you wants the meet too?"

"No," says Hobbes at the same instant as Johnny says "Yes." They share another look, and then the fixer says, "Later. For now, start with this shaman."

"Name's Blaze," the girl says. "Got a cousin called Melissa Walker, disappeared about two weeks ago as part of a likely extraction, said she ditched her handlers and got herself lost in the Barrens. Magically active, hermetic he assumes, although she could be a shaman. She worked at Universal Omnitech and has since about 6 years ago. Got her pix scanned too, been showing it around some last night since I thought she'd really stick out and maybe Ripper or someone's seen her. He'd got a lead to a place that been flamed, like I mean the paint was melted. He said she'd been there. Found a burnt Paradigm Shift matchbook, seemed real weird that that would survive so we went there, and a couple of goons took us to talk to someone called Atriel who seemed to be in charge. He seemed to think that Blaze'd been trying to break in which was sort of true, but it's just that he wanted to find his cousin. So when Atriel didn't seem to know anything about it I had Blaze sit out for a while in case anyone was looking for him, he's kind of recognisable, you know?"

"I know," said the fixer.

"So this one guy hits on me on the dance floor, and then Sivalius Lorningren does the rescue the damsel thing --"

"Elf?" asks Johnny.

"I guess. We were talking the Sperethiel thing. Kibo, I can't believe what I was spouting! Anyway, he gives me his card, only I don't know if he's just giving me his number or if it's supposed to be something that's tagging Blaze. So I stuffed the card and the matchbook into a locker -- didn't want to tail it here, ka? Wanted to ask what I should do with them. It's like the only lead we've got left. Maybe there's fingerprints or something? Oh yeah, and when we tried to get into the club someone had forgotten their purse so I snagged it --"

"Not in the club?" asks Hobbes sharply.

"Nowhere near. Kilometres away. Anyway, so there's this ID in it, and since I owe you one hell of a fraggin' lot, I thought mebe there's some use, you could get something out of it? You know, like you did with the Anne thing?"

1428 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

"She didn't," said Father Bremen, at the same time as the woman said, "She said she could give me my memory back!"

"She didn't," said the priest again, more firmly over the woman's muttered "bloody trog". "Not really."

No point telling them who's just saved their lives, says Juliette in Virgil's memory, because then they're forced to be grateful, and that sits worse than anything.

"She's mundane?" the woman asks suddenly, and in the next moment drops Virgil's hand like she's touched a snake. "You're the magicker?"

1429 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Taking no offense to the women's sudden disdain for his touch Virgil kept a soothing tone and continued his headlong wade through the confusion surrounding the tiny exam room.

"I can asure you miss that I intend only to help you, never do you any harm." Directing his next words at Father Bremen, "Perhaps you could realy to me exactly what is was that Galina told our guest?"

0801 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

Hobbes shakes her head a bit ruefully. "I don't know, I can see, but there's a big difference between trying to pull something like that with the Anne identity and a corper's identity." Turning to Johnny , the two of them begin a muttered discussion about something, but Anne can't quite make it out.

"Not that it matters all that much to you, you know. After all, identity is just a tool to be used and discarded at your convenience, isn't it?"

Turning her head back to look behind her, she's startled to find that there's no one behind her. Accessing her communications gear similarly turns up a blank.

"Oh dear, you don't even know who I am, do you? Hmm...this could be more difficult than we thought. Well I guess we shouldn't really be all that surprised, it's a small wonder that you're finally paying attention at all. Heaven only knows how long I've been trying to get your attention."

At a loss, Alleycat isn't sure whether to respond or not. She's not even sure where or how or even who to respond to, for that matter. Concentrating, Alleycat tries to isolate the voice, figure out where it's coming from.

"Pay attention dear, she's talking to you."

Snapping back to attention, she realizes that Hobbes has been speaking to her. "...see what we can do. Now, about this waitress thing," Hobbes pauses, looks at Johnny , and continues, "we're thinking it might be time for you to move on dearie."

Before Anne can protest, she adds with a thin smile, "Oh don't worry, I'll still keep your tab. I don't expect you to be able to cash out just yet. But let's be honest, do you really expect to be able to work full time as a runner and a waitress?"

"And of course, there's always the complication that elves bring. In your case, lots of elves. What's the deal with that anyway?" Johnny chimes in dryly.

"But first, we would like to hear what you have to say," Hobbes cuts back in, shooting him a look. "So...now that you've had your first meet, are getting ready for your first job, what do you think, and where do you want to go with this?"

1429 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

"Ah --" Father Bremen glanced around the small ward and past Virgil into the hallway, but Galina had already gone. "That's kind of hard to say, actually. But between her and me, you've probably gotten the sense of it. But it definitely did involve something magical that Virgil could do to get around it, if it was absolutely necessary. She didn't think it was a good idea though."

0801 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

"Ah --" What did I miss? How can I answer her if I don't know what she said?

I'm going mad.

Somehow Alleycat always thought that would be a much more terrifying awareness. Instead, she's mostly confused. Although, in all fairness, yeah, she's more than a bit scared. Much good that would do her here, though. She shoves it aside -- "Ah --"

Her brain simply won't function, and that's an entirely new experience for her. "Ah -- if you can make anything off the ID," she says suddenly, working completely on automatic, "it's yours, that's what I brung it for. But if I'm not workin' here, ah -- how would that work, exactly? What do and don't I ask you for? What do I tell the Johnson?"

Who are you?

She's already going mad. Why not?

15:56:21 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou clenched his hands in frustration with the whole situation.

"Miss Omura, you're being awfully vague about this whole situation. I have been paid by your uncle to escort you here and back again. In my mandate, I also infer he would like to keep you safe from any harm. If by bringing you inside, you are in any form of physical danger, I will not allow anyone to do anything unto you. While you may find it difficult to explain to me why I should not fulfill my obligation to your uncle, it is leaving me in a difficult position."

Tenmou glanced at his watch and noticed time was ticking away. He would have to make a decision soon and Miss Omura was dancing around the issue.

This was not going to be a good day...

15:56:43 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Miss Omura bows her head again, long black hair veiling her face despite the harsh wind.

"I am sorry. I do not mean to cause you any difficulty. Please take me inside now."

1320 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Streets of Tacoma

Taking a step closer Portia wrapped her free arm around Knight, the sidewalk was way to damp to set her latest purchases upon. The embrace was relaxing in the way that only the presence of a friendly face within a harsh and cold city is capable of being. Letting the friendly greeting come to a natural end Portia took a step backward and cracked the beaming smile of a child just presented with new toy.

"I got a new peek-top a skirt outfit that is to die for. Oh! and the cutest pair of strappy heels to go with it . . .the shoes seal the deal."

Though he was not too concerned with the intricate laws surrounding womens fashion, Knight couldn't help but crack a smile to match Portia's. A serious spell caster and hardened runner, the call of new clothes was a foe that she would never be able to overcome. "So what are your big plans for the night?"

"A new club opened up in Touristville on Thursday, that makes this their debut weekend and I can't miss such a scene. Perhaps you can join me tonight, if your business goes well . . ."

Her tone trailed off to a more serious note, the playful sound gone as she shifted back into a subdued professionalism. "I know you have things to accomplish, and I also know that you are here in Seattle far earlier than anticipated. My car is parked in the garage around the corner, we can talk biz while I drive you to your stop."

Turning on her heel she fell into step beside Knight, who instinctvly offer her his arm.

0901 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Home, waking up.

Blaze blinks slightly, staring bleakly at his alarm clock. 9:00 just when he wanted to get up, although it still feels far too early. Stepping out of bed Blaze can feel the exaustion of the prior evening settle down around his shoulders.

Slouching slowly towards the bathroom Blaze begins to prepare himself for the day. His family the only thing on his mind.

Frag, I was so close. But now, I've lost her. Frag it, why couldn't I have gotten there just a little faster, even a few minutes might have alowed me to find her this time. She's the last family I have left, I'm not letting her get away.

Blaze turns on the water, hot, if it can be called that. The corps can provide for everyone, but they can't even get me warm water.

Stepping out of the cold shower Blaze felt awake, but still tired. Slowly putting on his clothes Blaze begins to mentally prepare himself for another day. Today begins the run to save the metahumans in CalFree.

Shrugging on his longcoat Blaze makes himself a bowl of Soy cereal and then begins the 5 minute walk to his lodge.

13:25, Saturday January 6th 2063- Streets of Tacoma

Knight smiled softly, it felt good to have a friendly presence with him again.

"If the chance presents itself, Portia, I would jump at it, especially to see you modelling your new wardrobe" his eyes check the street as they walk, letting her guide his steps "but sadly i`m seriously out of cred and business tonight may have to be concluded swiftly just to give me a footing back."

He walked side by side with the lovely lady for a few minutes, collecting his thoughts while passing idle banter between himself and she. Soon they come to a halt beside a parked car. Another smirk crests Knight`s lips.

"You taste in wheels is much the same as ever i see?.."

"You would seriously expect me to travel in anything less?" she replies, raises an eyebrow and looking at him appraisingly.

"I`ve known it happen a time or two, " he remarks back smoothly.

"Yes, well those were some very.... exceptional... circumstances" she grins back at him "Jump in and i`ll let you give me the 411 one whats going down while i take you across town."

Much of Knight`s mirth seems to leave him as she says that and he gets into the vehicle silently. Portia picking up on his discomfort frowns a little and flicks a music disk on as she starts the engine.

"That bad?..." she dares to enquire as they pull away into the early afternoon traffic.

"Worse" Knight`s gentle and saddened voice replies "much, much worse. Can i leave it at that for now? Portia my dear, i need my head together for this meet..." his abruptness lets her know just had bad it must be.

"Sure, chummer, but don't keep it all hidden away. You got to tell me and soon. Promise?" her nature unwilling to let the subject fall completely.

"Aye, i`ll tell ye. Tonight at that club perhaps. But not now." he relents and closes his eyes concentrating and getting his emotions back in check.

By the time they arrive at Leatherneck`s in Redmond he is professional and controlled again.

0801 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - still the middle of the breakfast rush, and thinking furiously

No -- of course -- and now the answer was so obvious she could have kicked herself -- ritual magic, of course. At some point, someone had gotten a bead on her -- hadn't she destroyed all the samples after all? -- but didn't really have the feel of her, maybe that elf at the Paradigm Shift? Or the Johnson? Or -- dozens of people must have been close enough to her to snag a loose hair --

The hell with "we". GET OUT OF MY MIND! she projected furiously, and slammed her defenses as tight as she possibly could.

"Ah -- Hobbes -- what should I do with the card? and matches? Might be that's the only lead we gots on Melissa, but I've no clue how to pursue it."

0802 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - middle of the breakfast rush

Alleycat's defense came slamming up, ready and able to deal with any assault that could come...

What she got though, was the distinct impression of amusement, almost like the other person was watching her with an amused expression and tapping their foot on the ground.

"Now what do you think you're doing? You're just being silly you know. You can't really get me out of your head whenever you feel like it, I'm sorry to say.

"...still help...try to take care of the ID...Johnson... whatever you want... him is your biz, not ours... isn't it?"

"You really should pay more attention when people are talking to you you know, it's rude not to listen to them."

"...keep them, if you're interested...Melissa...might come in handy..."

I WOULD listen if you'd just shut up! Alleycat thought furiously.

"Well...if you're going to be that way, maybe I'll just come back when you're in a better mood." And the distinct impression of someone leaving in a huff, or something like that

"...did that answer all your questions dear?" Hobbes finished.

Blast! What the heck was she saying? And who the FRAG was in her mind so easily? It shouldn't have been so simple, even with ritual sorcery...right? Alleycat rapidly scrambled to formulate a response that wouldn't leave her sounding like a total idiot.

1429 January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Impatient at the father's dancing around, Dragon bluntly said, "Look, we want to help her, and this dancing around the issue isn't helping. What did Galina say? If this woman wants Virgil to help and she's ok with it, then whatever it is, it shouldn't be a problem, right? So can we just cut to the chase and tell us what 'it' is that we're supposed to do to help?"

After a moment of silence, he adds, "No offense or anything Father, and not to be rude to you, ma'am. But we're on a bit of a timetable here, and anything we can do keep that moving is not only good, it's vital. So, a little more detail please?"

15:57:21 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou mentally kicked himself for being so terse with Miss Omura.

He audibly sighed as he made his way to the front of the building and pulled the door open. After visually sweeping the entryway to check for danger, he stepped away from the door and motioned inside.

"After you, Miss."

"Might as well just get this over with..." he thought to himself.

Tenmou kept his gear close. The disparity between where Miss Omura came from to where he was taking her was too great to be taken lightly.

15:58:09 Thursday 04 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

The interior of the building is much at odds with its external facade, being clean and well kept. The walls are covered with fusama panels, the illusion of Japanese architecture bringing an unexpected twinge of homesickness to Tenmou. The room revealed at the end of the short entrance hall appears to be some sort of waiting area, with half a dozen chairs set against the wall, a receptionist's desk, and a door on the opposite wall leading further into the building. A small circular table in the corner holds a stack of magazines, as well as three stalks of bamboo in a wide-mouthed ceramic pot. An automatic recirculation system keeps the plant watered, and fills the room with the gurgling sound of running water. As Miss Omura enters, the receptionist stands to greet her, bowing from the waist even though she's caucasian. She wears a hi-collar suit jacket and slacks, both in a severe gray.

"Good afternoon, Akiko-san, we have been expecting you." She glances over Miss Omura's shoulder to where Tenmou stands. "Please wait here." Together the two women disappear through the door.

Minutes later the receptionist returns, taking her seat behind the desk. She makes no attempt at conversation, her attention focussed on her workstation. Time passes, minutes sliding past like the cars through the cold rain outside. Other clients come, solo or in pairs, each greeted by name by the receptionist and taken back through the door into whatever filled the rest of the building. Tenmou continues to wait.

The clock on the wall shows six hours have passed when the door opens and Miss Omura strides through. She's left her blazer somewhere, but seems unconcerned by the fact, now wearing only a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. Her hair is gathered behind her head in a loose cascade of black, held in place by a pair of ornate chopsticks. Tenmou wonders why he didn't realize her eyes were such a fiery emerald before. She motions to her bodyguard imperiously with a flick of her hand, ignoring the receptionist.

"Time to leave."