World IC Thread.

This is the IC thread for the Living in the Shadows Campaign. This first post will consistently be edited to include all current IC sub-games. Think of it as a table of contents. All remaining posts after the first should be considered to be World IC posts.

Additionally, here are the links for the OOC, Shadowland IC, and the Guidelines thread, which has the character creation requirements, as well as various GM rulings on numerous topics.

General LITS Information

Living in the Shadows: Guidelines
Living in the Shadows: Recruitment 1 (closed; see LITS: Recruitment 2)
Living in the Shadows: Recruitment 2
Living in the Shadows: Special Projects

Main LITS Threads

Living in the Shadows: SR 3 OOC
Living in the Shadows: SR 4 OOC
Living in the Shadows: IC Jan 1st - Jan 7th
Living in the Shadows: IC Jan 8th - Jan 14th
Living in the Shadows: Shadowland OOC
Living in the Shadows: Shadowland IC

Useful LITS-related Links

Living in the Shadows: Story Index Page
Useful Calendar Link for 2063
Seattle Sprawl Map

LITS Run Index

Living in the Shadows: The Warehouse Job OOC 1 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: The Warehouse Job IC 1 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: Running Over the Edge OOC 2 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: Running Over the Edge IC 2 (closed)
Living in the Shadows: Salvation OOC 3
Living in the Shadows: Salvation IC 3
Living in the Shadows: A Short Victorious War OOC 4
Living in the Shadows: A Short Victorious War IC 4

00:00:00 (Specific Day) January 1, 2063
Let's start each post with a date and Location. Please post it in Orange.
I will see how things are moving along and sychronize the dates periodically.

Please put names in BOLD, a character's thoughts/internal dialogue as well as anything being emphasized in ITALICS, and spoken words in QUOTES. Oh, and don't forget to turn off signatures for all IC posts please. Thanks!

This space will contain a list of the GMs, players under them, and the characters (and names thereof) the player is playing. Think of it as a directory so you know who's out there to interact with. (We have decided to leave out what the player is, as it is info they may wish to keep private.)

Player GM: grendel

• Avalanche (Shev)
• Todd (Ecclesiastes)
• Marquis Cooper (Bastard)
• Cosmo (Morgannah)
• Tenmou (Shadowrunner13)
• Eyes (The Eyes)

Player GM: Sedna

• Andie (SentineloftheMountain)
• Dragon (WinterRat1)
• Virgil (bandit50)
• Daedalus (TiredRonin)

Player GM: WinterRat1

• Alleycat (Sedna)
• Blaze (paul_HArkonen)
• Max (Slipshade)
• Scrapheap (Scrapheap)
• Tin Star (Digital Heroin)

Player GM: Banditf50

• Knight (Moirdryd)
• Erebus (Cedric Rolfson)

0000 January 1, 2063

“Happy New Year Everyone! This is Amanda Wallace from NBS, the North American Broadcasting System, for those of you who’ve been living under a rock! I’m standing here live at the Space Needle in Downtown Seattle, where Governor Ivan Lindstrom is about to bring us into the new year with some words for us all. Oh, wait a second folks, he’s about to start talking!”

High above the streets of Seattle, the Space Needle’s famous revolving restaurant was hosting some of the Seattle’s finest. Ringing in the New Year in time honored fashion, all the socialites and debutantes of Seattle were there to see and be seen, and to party the new year into Seattle.

An older gentleman, Governor Lindstrom walked briskly to the podium, smiling all the while. Raising a glass of champagne to the crowd, he broadly smiled as he proclaimed, “Let this year be a prosperous one for Seattle! Crime will be down! Our economy will continue to grow! All people will share in the joy and wealth of a brand new year! I’m proud and honored to be mayor of such a fine city, and you should all be thrilled to be citizens of a prosperous, happy city!”

Taking a sip from his glass, he gestures grandly towards the crowd in recognition of the applause. “I am confident that by the time 2064 arrives, we, the people of Seattle, will look back and realize that we are better off for what this year has brought us.” Saluting the crowd with his glass, he exclaims, “People of Seattle, I salute you! May the New Year bring us joy, prosperity, and brotherhood with our fellow man! My resolution is to see this come true! And with your help, I am certain that it will! May all your resolutions be equally fruitful!”

Smiling and waving to the crowd and its thunderous applause as he walks off the stage, Governor Lindstrom wasted little time in pressing flesh with the city’s finest, with handshakes and smiles for everyone. The camera panned back to Amanda.

“Wow, what a great speech! Governor Lindstrom is certainly a man with a vision! I can’t wait to see what his leadership and guidance will bring us! We’ll be showing you highlights now of some of the notable events of this past year, as we usher in a new one. Stay tuned, for the highlights from 2062!”

Enthusiastic, patriotic, high energy, cheery music began playing as Amanda faded out and scenes from the past year begin rolling on trideos across Seattle.

Ah, 2062, a happy year, a wonderful year, a great year. And just think, 2063 would be even better. Of course it would. The corps and the governments were all in agreement. 2063 would be a truly joyous year for everyone. You believe them, don’t you chummer? Right…

Far below the Space Needle, away from the nice corporate enclaves, someone is crying. Away from the properly prepared parties for the rich and elite, someone is dying. Somewhere, someone is starving. Somewhere, someone is committing a crime. Somewhere, someone doesn’t give a rat frag about their fellow man.

New Year’s resolutions…who keeps those anyway? Who even bothers making them anymore? Amidst the Barrens of Redmond and Puyallup, the gangs and the squatters ushered in the New Year much like they did every day. Trying to party at someone else’s expense, and making sure they lived to see tomorrow. Their resolutions? The same as the year before that, and the year before that, and the year before that. Survive. But hey, that’s life, ain't it?

And somewhere, between the darkness, despair and hopelessness of the many poor, and the bright shining artificially produced ‘joy’ of the few elites, lay those who walked in the shadows. Living in the Shadows, somewhere between light and dark, making a living day-to-day doing what some could not, and what others would not. For those denizens of the shadows, what would the new year bring? What resolutions would be made? Would they be followed, or cast by the wayside? Would the new year bring prosperity, or just poverty? Who would be the players everyone wanted to be, and who would be those who just got played? And most of all, at the end of the year, who was even going to be around to look back on the events of the past year? Only time will tell.

It’s 2063. Happy New Year chummers…

Happy new year, who do they think they’re kidding; the only ones who are happy are the fragging corporate monsters whose joy and happiness comes at our expense. Sitting back in his chair Blaze clicked off the Trid. The only thing we still have to be happy about is that we’re alive, and when the news reports the destruction of yet another of the corporate buildings. Ok well that was a waste of several hours of my life. With that thought he walked into the bedroom of his cramped apartment and went to sleep, the explosion that ended his first life replaying over and over again in his mind.

The next morning the early rise of the sun played across the city of Seattle, some where still out partying but most had given up long ago and were just now waking up to the new day, Blaze was one of the latter.

Stepping out of his room Blaze began the day as he did every day, with a call to his friend and Decker Squall. “Hey Squall, I know I ask every morning but each time I hope you’ll have found someone for me to eliminate and even the score for my parents’ death. You got anyone for me to put at the top of my “to kill list”?” Squall’s monotone voice came across the static filled and well protected com line, “no yet again I have found nothing specific, I know that they were working some extremely large project for Ares but as of right now I haven’t got any details, and without those I can’t begin to hunt down who specifically would want them dead. I promise I am doing everything I can to help you chummer, but it just isn’t there.” With that he ends the call with a loud burst of static.

Thinking to himself Blaze begins his real day’s work. Well now, with no one for me to actually hunt down I think I need to find some employment; bills are starting to rack up. Calling up his Fixer and best friend Blaze runs his hands over the shades that are his most valuable piece of equipment, and his only connection to his brother. I still have no idea where he is or where he got the cash to buy these things, or why he hasn’t contacted me for real, and any number of other things that I don’t know. It’ll have to wait I guess, but maybe if I can find him he’ll have more information on our parents. As the phone rings on the other end Blaze shrugs on his red long coat, and slides the shades over the bridge of his nose. Picking up on the other end Max is alert as usual. “Blaze, its good to see you, what is the cause of your call this morning. I know you, when you have those blasted glasses on you’re planning something, and usually something that involves vast amounts of death and destruction.” Shaking his head slowly Blaze simply shrugs, “We’ll that’s pretty much what I’m looking for, you got any word about jobs that I might be able to do. If you don’t just put your feelers out, don’t look that way I know you’ve got more connections then a mobster, heck, you’ve likely got more that I don’t know about than one of those crazy spiders.” Looking around his home Blaze let his mind wander, thinking about his brother and family. Where is he? If only I had some clue other than these shades I could try and track him down or if he could give me something else to connect us, but no he’s going to help but stay out of my life. I will say this though, it is only because of him and that note that I didn’t lose it that week and go completely postal. He reminded me of Leopard’s teachings, and that while I have a noble goal and will do everything to fulfill it, losing my life won’t help.

0002 January 1, 2063 - An abandoned warehouse in the Redmond Barrens

Meanwhile, deep in the Redmond barrens, Cao Jaan huddles under the mostly intact roof of a warehouse with a group of similarly desperate looking souls near a trash can full of burning rubbish. Some of the dregs of humanity that surround him have blankets, some don't, but all sit in silence listening to what they can make out of the radio broadcast. The silence lends the scene a feeling of desparation, rather than rapt attention.

As Jaan sits, holding the antenna to try to improve the reception, the ageing radio receiver crackles out the Governor's message as best it can:
"Let this year be a prosperous one for <Kzzzt> crime <Kzzt> down! Our economy will <Kzzzt> All people will share <Bzzzt> joy and wealth <Kzzzt> brand new year!"
With that, Jaan seemed to find a good position at last:
"I'm proud and honored to be mayor of such a fine city, and you should all be thrilled..."
The sound of three T-Birds passing somewhere above, no doubt heading for one of the toxic castles somewhere in the area, drowned out the rest of the speech.

Thrilled, to be sure. Thank you for your patchy speech, Governor.

Stay tuned, for the highlights from 2062!
Klaus smiles as he flips off the trideo. He finishes his Sapporo. “Who would have thought the Japanese could make such a good beer?” he asks himself.
His first year in Seattle was eventful, but the end was OK. Finding a kidnapped little girl, and earning two thousand nuyen in the process on the morning of new years eve makes the end of the year seem a lot better. Making sure the freak who’d taken her wouldn’t be able to chase anyone any more made it even better. And the beer helps him not think about what happened in the two days the creep had her.
He cracks another one open, staring at the blank screen. “Here’s to hoping you heal, Heather. Could have been a lot worse, I guess.”
He spends a few minutes, staring at the crooked reflection the trideo screen shows him, thinking about all the bad he’d seen in the world this year, and finished his beer. A little must have splashed in his eye, because there could be no other explanation for his eyes watering like there were.
“Crying into your beer by yourself on New Years Eve. If some one didn’t know better, they’d swear you were a cop. No one else could pack that much misery into their hearts and still get up in the morning. Or, you could be nuts. You are talking to yourself.”
“You aren’t just talking to yourself” says the deep, soothing voice of Mother Bear. “There is good out there and you know it. You saw it inside the woman who let you into her head, on the off chance that you might be able to find her daughter. You saw it in the face of the medic who took her away. You see it in the mirror. Depression does not suit you. Go to bed.”
He’d had to take two years of psychology at the Rhine Institute. It was required for Criminal Justice. He took another year because he liked it. He knew that there was a decent chance that Mother Bear was just a voice in his own head, but he didn’t really care. She was always right, and she could make him feel better when he was down. If that’s a figment of his imagination, it sure beat the hell out of reality.
Dumping the remaining beer in the sink, Klaus brushes his teeth and goes to bed.
In the morning, with 1100 nuyen still on his credstick, and his rent paid for the month, he figures he’ll take a day off with the rest of the world. Maybe go downtown, find a nice “sportsbar”, and watch what the Americans call “football”.
But, just in case, he makes a call to Lucy. Walking out into the street, and three blocks to the left, he slots his certified stick into the payphone, and dials Lucy’s drop. After listening to the honey smooth voice on the message, Klaus says “Hey Lucy, this is Klaus. I’m available for work. You’ve got my number. Thanks.”
Hanging up, he calls Norman, being surprised when he gets an answer. “Norman, how are you? This is Klaus. Could you pick me up at home, and get me downtown? Thanks. I’ll wait at the Starbucks on 12th.”
He walks a couple more blocks to Starbucks, orders a triple mocha grande, grabs a screamsheet, and sits down to wait.

In a middle-class neighborhood of Tacoma, Jonesy halfheartedly raises a champagne glass in a toast to this dark city. "Here's to another lonely year. But hey, at least we have ach other, huh?" he says to the black cat lying on the floor at his feet. In response, the cat starts purring and rubbing against his ankles. "Oh, time for your new year's treat too, isn't it?" He sprinkles some catnip on the cat.

The Lord happily rolls around in this herbal treasure, basking in the rush of endorphins that always accompanies a good hit of catnip. He didn't really understand how humans decided when one year ended and the next began, but he now understood that he got catnip when it happened. He had only experienced one new year's eve before, and he had been too young to remember it. All he remembered from that far back was Miriam, the nice old lady who had owned him until she died of natural causes.

"I think my new year's resolution will be to try and meet more women," Jonesy says. "How about you? I don't suppose you feel like making a resolution? Get some excercise, cut down on the catnip habit, be nicer to dogs?"

The Lord cocked his head in puzzlement. Why would I want to go out of my way to get sore muscles? Why would I want to use less catnip? And I am nice to dogs; I play around with them all the time.

Jonesy laughs at his puzzled expression. "yeah, you think you're perfect just the way you are, huh? Well, nobody's perfect, but you're good enough for me." He picks The Lord up and carries him into the bedroom. Jonesy gets into bed, The Lord snuggled against his chest, and the two of them fall asleep.

Cao Jaan is making his usual rounds of the scrapyard, hoping to find something useful to fix the toilet he broke this morning, when he hears something unusual just over the mound of scrap nearby. It sounds like a motorcycle, as well as a few people yelling. His instincts tell him violence could be eminent, and so close to the shelter, it almost certainly involves the gangs...

Sitting down at Starbucks and sipping a triple mocha grande while checking out the latest news in his screamsheet, Klaus Ebert receives a phone call from Lucy.

In her clipped, abrupt English, she says, "Might know of work for you. Show up to the Auburn Center Mall in Renton. You'll be called at 1100 if you're interested and told where to go. I tell them to set it up?

0900 Jan 1, 2063 - Tacoma, in a Starbucks on 12th street

Klaus smiles to himself. So much for taking New Years Day off.
"Yes, I am interested. Thank you for your quick response. I'll be at the Auburn Center Mall before 1100."
He hangs up and goes back to his paper, and watching for Norman to show up.
When he finally does, Klaus drops the paper on the table for the next guy and heads out the door.
"Hello Klaus" says Norman as Klaus folds his troll sized body through a human sized opening. Norman's face is completely hidden behind the shield/HUD of his combat helmet, but Klaus can hear his smile.
"Good Morning Norman" says Klaus. "I've had a change of plans. I need to get to the Auburn Center Mall out in Renton. Heard anything worth passing along?"
"Nothing except trade rumors. The experts keep saying we'll ship Young off to Washington for their number 1 draft pick. Crazy I say. Who would ship off a star in the prime of his career for an untested rookie?"
The chat goes on for the fourty five minutes it takes to get to the mall.
Klaus slots his stick, pays the 40 plus another 40, and heads into the mall.

0845 January 1, 2063- Blaze's Doss

The phone beeps, and Blaze answers it. Over the phone comes the static filled and monotone voice of Squall.

"Looks like it's a happy new year for you chummer. I got a line on someone who said they knew your parents. It isn't much, and I don't have a whole lot to confirm it. Actually, make that pretty much nothing. They said they had proof, but you'd have to meet them in person before they'll give it to ya. Could be some real sweet info, could be drek. I can't tell at this point. I don't know if you want to go through with this, but here's an LTG number to contact them at if you're interested."

An LTG number flows across the screen. Carefully writing it down, Blaze replies, "Thanks chummer, I appreciate it. Anything else you can tell me?"

"Nope, that's all I could find for you, and even that was pretty damn hard to turn up. Thanks is good, but it don't pay the bills. Remember that. I'll let you know if I find anything else."

The static ceases as Squall cuts the line, leaving Blaze with a phone number, silence, and some unanswered questions.

0900 January 1, 2063- Blaze's Home

"They said they had proof" those words had been floating through Blaze's mind over and over again for the past 15 minutes. He now has a phone number, and perhaps a connection that could end his need for vengeance. Or at least one of his needs for vengeance at this point it is all he lives for.

Picking up the phone Blaze quickly dials up Max. "Hey Chummer, you know how I asked you to put out your feelers, well actually you can cancel that. Squall may have come through with something." The joy and worry on the other end are obvious and thick. "You mean you may be able to find the people who killed them?" Responding back Blaze's voice cracks slightly, "I don't know yet he gave me a phone number and people who claim to have proof. I don't know what they have and neither does Squall but at this point i want the free time to follow up whatever leads this may give me. Don't worry I'll keep in touch."

Ending his call Blaze sets down the phone and steps into the bathroom. Running a comb through his short hair Blaze spends several minutes visibly steeling himself for what may give him the answers he has wanted for years. Stepping back out he adjusts his coat slides on his shades and holsters his pistol on his side, looking over to a shadowed corner of his house Blaze makes sure that his "Traveling" gear is ready to go.

Satisfied that whatever he might get he's ready he dials the number from Squall. Hearing the other end pick up he speaks, "This is BLaze a friend of mine said you had information about the murder of my parents, the blast on June 12, 2043. Where can I meet you for the info and what do you want me to bring?"

1024 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Cao Jaan hesitates for a moment.

If I interfere, there might be violence... but if I don't interfere, there could be more violence. I should at least try to help if I can. Yes, I must try to help, it is only right.

He heads around the junkpile that separates him from the sound of the argument. As he does so, he tries to calm his thoughts so that he may choose the best response dependant on the situation he is entering. Just before the step that will bring the encounter into sight, he adjusts his threadbare jumper to make himself more comfortable.

1100, January 1, 2063- Auburn Center Mall in Renton

Klaus Ebert had been sitting in the food court of the Auburn Center Mall for the past twenty minutes or so, casually watching the passersby go about their shopping. Even on the holidays, the almighty nuyen dictated that the mall stay open so that Joe and Jane Citizen could spend their hard earned money right back into the corporate machine.

At exactly 1100, his phone rang. When he picked it up, a thick, gruff voice came over the line. “Mr. Ebert, since you have arrived at the Mall I assume you have decided to hear out my offer. Go to the elevator by Lordstrum’s, and wait for a man in a dark blue suit to get on. Board the elevator with him, and introduce yourself as ‘Rex’. He will direct you from there.” The line disconnected, leaving Klaus to decide if he was going to meet this man in a dark blue suit, or just take a walk.

1024 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Cao Jaan took a deep breath, steadying himself. He could sense fear, aggression, hostility, terror, and the near certainty of impending violence. Taking a step around the corner, he quickly took in the scene at a glance. Surrounded by three go-gangers was a human woman. She looked fairly battered, and he couldn’t really get a good look at her.

Besides, his attention was squarely on the three gangers. They were all human, but were not dressed in any gang colors he immediately recognized. Spread out in a rough triangle around the woman, one was straddling a Yamaha Rapier, and holding a chain. The one closest to Cao Jaan had a knife, and the last one was swinging a bat easily by his side.

Looking up and seeing him through blood matted hair, the woman cried out, “Please! Help me! I don’t know what they’re going to do to me!”

His presence now pointed out, the gangers glanced over at him. The one with the bat sneered at him. “Better buzz chump. This don’t concern you.”

Eyeing the girl maliciously, the one with the knife chimed in, “Yeah. We got…stuff to talk about with this biff.”

Measuring Cao Jaan with his gaze, the guy on the bike said, “Beat it now, and we’ll let you live. Stick around…heh heh heh. And you’ll see what happens.”

The girl tried to stagger to her feet, but seemed unable to finish rising, and collapsed again.

With a mocking laugh, the guy on the bike roared, “Ha! You see that! She doesn’t really want you to save her! She just wants to lay there for us, doesn’t she boys?”

All three gangers burst out into laughter, apparently having dismissed Cao Jaan from their thoughts as inconsequential, and focusing on…other endeavors.

1102, January 1, 2063 – Auburn Center Mall

Klaus finishes his Smoothie in one big slurp, and tosses it in the can. He gets up, and positions his wide brimmed fedora between his horns.
He moves towards the elevator, browsing the windows as he goes, looking for a man in a dark blue suit heading the same way. Just as he’s finished reading the display on enhanced articulation in the window of New U, he sees his guy. Turning and heading straight for the elevator, Klaus ignores the man until he pushes the button and the door closes.
“Hi, I’m Rex” he says, never taking his eyes off the butt of the Orc woman in the tight shorts walking past.

0902 January 1, 2063- Blaze's Doss

The answering voice sounds surprisingly nervous, despite the fact that the vid pickup remains off. A woman's voice replies, "Um...be at Miner's Landing in Downtown Seattle, along Pier 63, at 1200. Just bring yourself, and ask for Margaret, party of two."

A pause. "Oh, and if you have a picture of yourself when you were younger, bring that too. I'm looking forward to seeing you..." Silence, and then, Blaze could almost swear the woman was grinning, even though he couldn't see her. "Richard." Click.

The line cut, leaving Blaze staring at a blank screen, with a lot of silence, and a whole lot more questions.

1103, January 1, 2063- Auburn Center Mall

Without looking over at him, the man in the dark blue suit murmurs, "Walk with me." Easily falling in step with him, Klaus waits for the man to make his pitch.

Still without looking at him, the man begins in crisp, precise English, "You are Klaus Ebert, you specialize in missing persons. I have a missing person. I would like you to find her. I believe she may be in danger." Splitting apart for a moment to dodge two dwarf children running merrily along between them, they fall back in step.

Without missing a beat, he continues, "I have done my homework Mr. Ebert. You charge 4000 nuyen plus expenses for a case with no mind probe, but a ritual link. I have on my person a chip with details on the person I wish you to find, a material link, 2000 nuyen in upfront money, and 500 nuyen for expenses. Any additional expenses can be settled upon delivery. I wish you to find her ASAP, before harm can come to her, and keep me informed of your progress. Do we have a deal?"

1104, January 1, 2063 - Auburn Center Mall

Klaus is silent for a minute. "I accept your terms conditionally."
Pausing for another moment, to get the words straight, he continues.
"I am a detective, and the fee you are paying is for finding a person who wishes to be found. I am a finder of runaway children and kidnap victims. I can be a bounty hunter as well, but that's a much higher threat business and comes with a different pay scale. If what you are asking of me fits within that realm, hand me the material and we have a deal, Mr....."

0902 January 1, 2063- Blaze's Doss

Writing down the vague address and the name of the resaurant Blaze allowed his mind to wander yet again
Picture of myself, what the frag is she talking about, and what was with her, Richard? I haven't used that name in years. Picture, picture, picture, where do I have a picture of myself when I was younger. I ceartainly wouldn't have just left it lying around, but i lost everything my parents had in that blast. Maybe Max'll have one, although I can't think of why, or Squall could try to find one of me on the Matrix. What is that woman thinking, who is she the only living people who would know my name are Max and, All of Blaze's earlier movements stopped as the thought and realization of who must be connected to her hit him My Brother.

Quickly Blaze began going over his gear: Pager, Cell, Mirror, Bug scanner, reaching in he pulls out the flashlight and pockets it, and Binoculars, although they likely aren't going to be important for this. That should be all the gear I need.

1000, January 1st, Jonesy's Apartment

The Lord softly walks across the bed without waking Jonesy, jumps to the floor, and heads to the utility room. Grabbing a light breakfast, he uses the litterbox and heads out into the city, ready to see the new year. He remembered seeing some scientist on the news once who said they would have flying cars by 2064.

1105, January 1, 2063 - Auburn Center Mall

The man in the blue suit smiles thinly, and nods once affirmatively. Recoiling a bit in surprise (or so it seems), he answers, "Ah, forgiveness for my poor manners. You may call me Mr. Madison. And yes, to your statements, we are agreed. You are, as they say, a professional, Mr. Ebert. I expect you to act like one, and you, in turn, expect me to treat you like one. This is only fair. To answer your question, your objective is lost on her own, and is needing of guidance and protection."

He turns and leans on a nearby rail, looking down at five stories of mall and metahumanity. Without looking up, he continues, "If...complications arise from her retrieval, we will reopen negotiations and you will be adequately compensated for your efforts. It is my hope that this will not be necessary, but rest assured you will find your treatment nothing but fair."

Reaching slowly into his jacket, he pulls out a manilla envelope. Extending it halfway across the distance between them, he asks casually, "Do we have a deal?"

1025 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Happy new year, this leaves me just thrilled to be a resident of Seattle.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I don't believe she wishes to associate with you at this time. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement?"

Jaan waits calmly to see what their response is, his relaxed stance not betraying the fact that he has just seen something that could be most helpful to him in the coming confrontation: an apparently intact toilet cistern!

Let us hope a little money can smooth things over here, and let us also hope that that cistern stays where it is while I attend to the young lady's injuries.

1025 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

"What the hell you talkin about?" the one with the knife snaps. "Yeah, maybe you didn't hear us the first time. We said breeze. Now beat it!" his friend with the bat adds.

They look ready to bust a move, but the ganger on the bike, apparently the leader, stops them. "What kind of deal you talking about? But make it good, we ain't got time for no scrubs."

They all look at Cao Jaan expectantly.

1026 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Ah, good- one of them at least is reasonable.

"Well, I'm sure her sins are great for the punishment you wish to inflict on her, but perhaps you would see fit to the imposition of a fine of, say, 200 nuyen?"

I wish I'd spent more time on negotiation in the past!

1026 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

The other two gangers' eyes widen. "Boss, that's a lot of jing! Forget the slitch, we can always find another!"

Barking at them to shut up, the leader just squints at Cao Jaan. "200, eh? You must really want to help this biff. Make it 300, even split for me and my boys, and you got a deal."

1026 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Okay, so it should've been less for a first offer...

Jaan considers this for a moment, the inclines his head slightly.

"As you wish."

That's nearly half my cash, but at least it saves any trouble.

Jaan hunts through several pockets, pulling out 300 nuyen.

1107, January 1 2063 - Auburn Center Mall

Smiling, Klaus takes the envelope and says, "Yes Mr Madison, we have a deal. I shall contact you every 24 hours with an update."
"Please don't be offended by this question, but I must ask. What is your limit on expenses? Sometimes problems can arise that can be smoothed over enough nuyen. At what point do I say 'I'm sorry, but that's more than my employer is willing to pay'?"

0902 January 1, 2063- Blaze's Doss

Ok got my gear and from what i can remember i'm not going to be tossed out immediately for bringing this. Sliding it out of its holster Blaze checks over his Predator, more times than I can count holding this has saved me from Geek the mage. As James always said, "the first thing to being an effective shadow shaman DON'T LOOK LIKE ONE" well its proven true many times, I think. Adjusting it Blaze slides the gun into a holster hidden under his arm where he could easily reach it but it won't be easily spotted. Well let's just see what happens with this shall we. It's still bugging me though who the drek is this woman?

0905 January 1, 2063- Below Blaze's Doss

Stepping into the small parking lot below his home Blaze walks over to his bike Such a sweet ride, and it shouldn't stand out too much, although its too bad that traffic will prevent me from really opening up the throttle Sliding into the seat Blaze snaps on his helmet and starts the engine. It always takes me forever to get into downtown Seattle I might as well start now[/COLOR]

1130 January 1, 2063- just outside of Miner's Landing

Max always said the first rule of shadowrunning was to show up early to the meet and check out the place, well here I am. Wandering around the outside of the building Blaze works at making a mental note of where the exits are and where the roads lead out of the building. After wandering about for a few minutes Blaze slides his senses over to the Astral Plane. Almost immediately the City's cars and buildings blur together, but the people, wow, around here there is actual happiness. coming from the people wandering about enjoying their holiday, waling their holiday drinks from the night before off. The emotions of the area permeate his sight as Blaze focuses in on the building and its inhabitants, so many happy and, I assume, smiling people. allowing his vision to go back to the physical world Blaze watches the entrance for nearly 20 minutes taking note of the people who enter, trying to discover who this Mysterious woman might be. After exactly 20 minutes Blaze walks into the building.

1150 January 1, 2063- Miner's Landing

Entering the building Blaze looks around for a moment then turns to the Matre d', "I'm here with margret Party of two, I know I'm slightly early and I apologize but do you know if our table is ready?" As he speaks Blaze slides his hand into the pocket of his long coat, fingering the edge of his bug scanner.

1026 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

The leader looks at Cao Jaan funny, like he can’t really believe that he actually accepted the deal. After a moment or two, he grins. “OK chummer. You got yourself a deal. You want her that bad, you can have her.”

Motioning to the goon with the knife, knife boy creeps cautiously forward, putting away his knife in the process. He stops within a few feet of Cao Jaan, who tosses him the money. Knife boy catches it, counts it, and yells back, “It’s all here boss!” like he’s surprised that Cao Jaan actually paid up and didn’t jump him or something.

The leader nods, as if he isn’t really too surprised by this. “All right boys, deal’s a deal. He held up his end, we’ll hold up ours. Let’s go.” Turning to Cao Jaan, he adds with a grin, “Nice doing biz with you chummer. Enjoy your new friend.” With a leer, he then turns his bike and slowly pulls away, the other two hopping on bikes that they’d apparently left a bit farther down and roaring off after him.

The woman tries to pull herself to her feet again, finds that she can’t, and begins crawling towards Cao Jaan. After a few feet, she collapses face down in the dirt and does not move.

1107, January 1 2063 - Auburn Center Mall

Mr. Madison smiles at Klaus’s acceptance of the deal. “24 hour updates is good. You are authorized to spend a maximum of 4000 nuyen in expenses with no questions asked. After that, you will be requested to justify any additional expenditures.”

Answering an unasked question, he continues, “I trust your professionalism will not abuse this arrangement, therefore I am willing to give you the tools you need to get the job done to my satisfaction. Is this arrangement satisfactory to you? If it is, I believe this concludes our business.”

He looks at Klaus expectantly.

1108, January 1 2063 - Auburn Center Mall

Klaus nods "Yes sir it does. You will hear from me by this time tomarrow, barring emergency."
Turning and walking away, Kluas heads towards a restroom, meanwhile calling Norman again on his cell "Hey Norman, got time to pick me up where you dropped me off? Not sure as to the destination yet. 45 minutes? OK, see you then."
Finding the restroom, Kluas steps into the hadicapt/meta sized stall, drops his pants and sits on the stool. He then opens the folder, putting the credsticks into his pocket and examines the rest of the contents.

1108, January 1 2063 - Auburn Center Mall- A Toilet Stall

Inside the envelope, Klaus finds a credstick for 2000 nuyen, another for 500 nuyen, a small cannister very cold to the touch that most likely contains the material link preserved inside, and a datachip. Everything that Mr. Madison said would be there. There is nothing else.

The next stall over, the disgusting sound of someone taking a very large, very loud, and a second later, as the shink hits, very smelly dump assaults Klaus's senses.

1109 Jan 1 2063 - Auburn Center Mall

Klaus stuffs the chip and the canister back in the envelope, puts that in the inside pocket of his jacket, puts the credsticks in his front pants pockets and flushes. He stops to wash his hand, and heads to the You Should Not Eat So Much booth on the food court, for a troll sized order of General Tso's chicken with white rice. There he contemplates purchasing a pocket secretary, so he can read the chip. He's needed one, but he decides to wait as he may need the money for other things.
He heads out front, and fires up his heavy English Briar pipe. The heady aroma of brandy mixes with the tobacco smoke, instantly bringing on a state of relaxation, and thoughts of a fireplace on a cold winter night. Thoughts of Inga, an old girlfriend who shared that cabin with him start dancing through his head until he sees Norman pull into the parking lot.
Coming back to reality, Klaus lets the pipe die, drops it into the overcoat pocket, and climbs into the cab. "Hey Norman, long time no see. I think I'll just head home. I guess the Sonics are playing the Knicks tonight. What do you think?"
And with that Norman is off and running.
Fourty-five minutes later, Klaus gets out of the cab, pays another eighty nuyen and heads upstairs to his flat.
Firing up the telcom, he grabs a bottle of water, a note pad and pen and an empty ash tray. Slotting the chip in the telcom, he kicks back in his oversized armchair with the remote in one hand and the pen in the other, and the pipe clamped in his teeth. The chip opens the first document on the chip and Klaus begins taking notes.

1151 January 1, 2063- Miner’s Landing

The hostess looks at Blaze and smiles. “Certainly sir. I believe your party is already here. Please follow me.” Grabbing a menu, she turns and starts walking towards the table. Blaze is nearly shaking with anticipation. Who knew his name? What would they want? Where had they been all this time? What the heck was even going on? All these, and so many more questions besides.

The answer to all those questions…resided in a middle-aged woman. At least, it appeared that it would start there. Waiting at a table, seated facing him so that she watched him approach was a human woman who appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties. Her hair was a light platinum blonde, and she had obviously aged fairly well. Whether that was thanks to money or good genetics was uncertain, but the results were unmistakable.

“Here you are sir. Enjoy your meal.” The hostess places the menu on the place setting in front of Blaze, who sits. At a smile and wave from the woman across from him, the hostess takes her cue and departs.

“Are you hungry Richard? Have you eaten yet today? You should try the house special for a drink, it’s quite good.” Casually making conversation without even remotely hitting on business, she ordered for both him and herself when their waitress arrived. Continuing to chat with him about the weather, Seattle sports teams, and everything but what he was here to talk about, Blaze started to get frustrated…

1027 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Jaan moves to crouch next to her. He glances over her injuries, looking for evidence of broken bones.

"Hello, I'm Cao Jaan. Can you speak?"

Now, we just need to get you back to the warehouse. Should I tell the Sickles about these guys though? If I do then there may be trouble, but they said they'd do this again. Happy new year indeed!

1028 January 1, 2063 - Jungle Jim's Junkyard (now under no ownership)

Jaan's medical knowledge is insufficient to properly assess the extent of the woman's injuries. What he was able to discern was that she was unconscious. That was about it. Cursing his ineptitude, he carried her back to the warehouse. Once there, he knew he needed to do something about her injuries. He cleaned off the blood as best he could, but he couldn't determine exactly what to do next.

And of course, he remembered to bring the toilet cistern back with him.

1044 January 1, 2063 - An abandoned warehouse in the Redmond Barrens

Jaan, realising the futility of continuing to fuss, makes her as comfortable as he can in a corner of the old gents'. With her comfort assured as best it can be, he sets about the cistern and the broken toilet with a purpose, a hammer, and two screwdrivers.

1144 January 1, 2063 - An abandoned warehouse in the Redmond Barrens

The toilet now works. Sort of. The water doesn't really look like water, and there's a 50/50 chance it'll flush or flood, but technically, it works. Jaan makes a note to self to get himself some real tools if he's going to keep up this do it yourself thing.

1201 January 1, 2063- Miner’s Landing

Looking accross the table at this woman who pretends to know him by using a name, that for him, has long been dead, Blaze begins to anger. "I don't know why you insist on calling me Richard, as I said over the phone my name is Blaze, Richard was a kid who died in the streets years ago after his parents died. Don't use that name. We both know why we're here, and as pleasant as this small talk is, I'd like to get to the real discussions. I'm truly interested in two things first off, how is it that you know the name of that child, who are you connected to that knows of that name? And secondly what do you have about the murder? If you're worried about something you can use this," sliding out the bug scanner just enough so that she can see it Blaze conitinues, "to check our table and the like. But whatever the case, I would like the answers now." At then end of this he turns to his meal and begins to eat.

1202 January 1, 2063- Miner’s Landing

The woman gives him a sad smile. She has a far away look in her eyes, like she's remembering something. Slowly, she sets aside her glass and her plate, and rests both her hands palm down on the table in front of her.

“I’m sorry Richard. I’m not trying to toy with you. It’s been such a long time since I’ve last seen you…it's so good to just sit and talk with you.”

Blaze’s anger dims slightly to confusion. Seen me? What the heck is she talking about?

She looks down, and when she looks up again, the youth seems to have faded from her a bit, replaced by age and weariness in her eyes. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. I know you probably don’t remember me, because you were very, very small when I last saw you.”

She gazes into his eyes, pinning him in place. It almost seems surreal, that this woman should know so much about him. Or claim to, at least, he reminds himself cynically.

“My name is Margaret Smith. Your father was my brother. I am your aunt, Richard.”

Silence descends on the table as quickly as the bomb she just dropped.

1207 January 1, 2063 - An abandoned warehouse in the Redmond Barrens

Jaan looks most pleased that the toilet seems almost functional.

I must be improving, it took me three days to dry my clothes after the last time I tried this!

With the repairs complete, Jaan goes back to tend to the injured woman. His smile quickly dies as he realises she doesn't seem any closer to waking than before.

Is she getting worse? Maybe I should see about getting someone to take a look at her. Should I move her, though? Oh, for an extra pair of hands!

1212 January 1, 2063 - The Crimson Sickles' disused fast food joint (HQ)

Leaving the wounded woman in the care of one of the more trustworthy of the squatters- with 20 nuyen and a ration bar (and the promise of more)- Jaan had walked out to pay his 'rent' for the month and see if he could find a healer.

Paying Lump Hammer, the elven leader of the sickles, Jaan decided to see if he might be able to help.

"Happy new year, Hammer. Here's your money- and the hoping that it aids your celebrations. I'd like to ask a favour though. If I were looking for a shaman or street-doc, who would you recommend?"

1213 January 1, 2063 - The Crimson Sickles' disused fast food joint (HQ)

Hammer grunts something that remotely sounds like Happy New Year and starts counting the money. Hearing Jaan's question, he squints and looks up.

"Hmm...street doc, eh? You be wantin a legit doc with a gen-u-ine real hospital, or just a little somethin for folks like us?"

1215 Jan 1 2063 - Klaus's Doss

The first document comes up as Klaus takes a swig of the water. First, a picture comes up, showing a pretty human woman with a lovely smile. Her eyes are filled with life, and even through the electronic medium, display a zest and joy for life, with a deeper sense of...something...compassion maybe?

Klaus raises an eyebrow. Hmm...that's a really good picture...

Pulling up the next few documents reveals more photos from several angles. Generally, she seems to be a fashionable, but tasteful, dresser. After a few more photos, he comes to a printed text document with the following data.

Subject Name: Melissa Walker
Age: 26
Height: 5'9
Weight: 142 lbs
Blood type: A negative
Date of Birth: 09-24-2037

Along with a whole assortment of other data. Skimming through the data, Klaus pieces together the following story.

A solid overachiever, upon graduating from MIT & M with a degree in biotechnology, she entered a solid job with Universal Omnitech as a researcher. All this by the age of 20. She was married shortly after, at 21, and her life seemed set. However, she manifested magical abilities late in life at the age of 24, and the resultant trauma caused her mental condition to destabilize, even as she learned to control her powers. The company paid for her magical training, but the trauma continued to manifest in a rebellious and independent streak not previously seen.

Matters apparently came to a head recently. When her husband, David Walker was killed in a tragic accident during an experiment a week ago, she snapped, and vanished from their condoplex. The company is worried about her, and wants her safely returned so she can undergo counseling and therapy to help her deal with the shock of her husband's death as well as residual trauma from her late magical manifestation.

Klaus takes another swig of the water as he finishes digesting the contents of the file.

1213 January 1, 2063 - The Crimson Sickles' disused fast food joint (HQ)

"The facilities are not of importance to me, I am simply looking for a first diagnosis at this point. Any help you might provide would be gratefully received."

Jaan gives a half bow to Hammer, and smiles.

1213 January 1, 2063 - The Crimson Sickles' disused fast food joint (HQ)

Hammer looks at him funny. "Right...whatever you just said..." Shrugging his shoulders, he says, "Me and the boys usually use Dr. Bob's Quickstitch out at 15001 NE 40th Street. You catch that?"

Jaan nods. "Thank you very much for your assistance." He turns to leave, and adds, "Have a Happy New Year."

As he is leaving, Tiny stops him. "Hey...herd u wuz lookin fer a doc o somethin'. I be herin u aight?"

Jaan takes a moment to digest this before nodding. "K...well herz the thing. I nows 'is guy, hes tryin to get 'is own clink goin'. Maybe he 'elp u out, cuz he neds the biz, u now? 'Nd e be carin bout hows e does, cuz e needs the rep, ya nows? Yer chummer, youse probly wantin qua...qua...qua...za ggood schtuff, 'm I rights?"

Luckily, Jaan had been around Tiny enough to understand what she was saying. Sort of. He paused to think it through before answering.

1430 Jan 1 2063 - Klaus's Doss

Klaus frowns as he sits down with a beer. As usual in cases where a private investigator is called in, things appear to be morally and legally murky. Has this woman lost her mind? Probably not. Is she lost and in need of help? Maybe. Was her husbands death an accident? Maybe. Well, no time like now to answer a few of the questions the file has brought up.

Klaus hits the restroom, finishes his beer, and sits down to do some real work.

Relaxing into his overstuffed armchair, Klaus reaches into the astral plane and calls for a watcher "Come to me Little Bear, I have need of your services."

I'm here. How can I help you?

"Well" says Klaus, "first, you can rest for about 15 minutes while I do the last couple of things I need to do."
With that, Kluas gets opens up the canister and removes a sample of hair. Switching his vision to the astral plane, Klaus studies the aura from the sample for 3 minutes, trying to memorize it.
Between the aura and the photo's, Klaus feels he has a pretty good picture of Melissa in his head.
He kicks back in his chair and relaxes, letting his mind float free for 10 minutes, recovering the strength he lost summoning the watcher.
When he feels refreshed, Klaus sits up and says "OK, Little Bear. See if you can find this woman."
The spirit circles around Klaus for a minute, looking at the picture he's projecting, and sniffing it, then it takes off. Klaus follows immediately behind, hoping to keep up.

1530 Jan 1 2063 - Somewhere in Seattle, Astral Plane

After about an hour of zipping around Seattle, it was becoming increasingly clear that this Little Bear wasn't finding anything, and wasn't going to any time soon. Annoyed by the lack of success, Klaus went through his options.

I guess I could try again with another watcher, or go do it the old fashioned way. Either way, I need a new plan, because this little guy isn't finding anything.

1415 January 1, 2063 - The Crimson Sickles' disused fast food joint (HQ)

As Cao Jaan was thinking about how to answer, a member of the Sickles walked in and asked Tiny if she and her friend would like to play cards. She eagerly accepted, and she and Cao spent the next two hours playing cards with other members of the Sickles.

As one of them was getting some beers for the crew, she turned to Cao and asked, "'Ey there, bout ur chum, ya be wantin' the name o tat doc o what? ur chum need medikal 'elp bad o wat?"

1630 Jan 1 2063 - Somewhere in Seattle, Astral Plane

Klaus had stopped following the watcher and had been cruising around in Astral space for a while. A friendly little spirit came up to him and sniffed him. Klaus absently petted it on the head before sending it on its way.

Hmm...ok, that watcher didn't turn out too well...what should I do next he wondered.

1217 January 1, 2063- Miner’s Landing

Blaze did not respond to this bombshell, instead just sitting quietly and continuing to eat. Despite Margaret's repeated inquiries as to his thoughts, he just silently sat there eating. Eventually, she just gave up and the two of them sat and worked on their meals in silence.