Shadowrun PBP Invitational – California, Rest in Peace

[starpuck]

OOC -- Oh man.  The number side of things.   Can I just pose my intent and you handle the rolling and can counter pose the results? 

 

[Laghail]

As Druss raises his axes and begins to take a drone apart, the attack on the unit triggers a responses and all 19 remaining drones open fire - into the fleeing crowds. Any combat vet would recognize the distinctive "paht-paht" of the low recoil gel bullets, but the drones are aiming for crippling shots, multiple rounds in the same target and headshots as often as possible. 

The crowds were fleeing south along Union Street and the drones pursue with herky-jerky steps, sinking into a stabilizing horse stance to brace their light chassis against the recoil. As the first hachiman reaches a downed civilian, the unit bends close to the shot ork woman and a tinny voice rattles out of torso-mounted speakers:

"please enable SIN broadcasting, submit to retinal scanning, or forfit all legal recourse if alternative identification measures must be taken."

The woman had been shot in the head and is slumped in a heap facedown, but the hachiman's left claw gets purchase on her bicep and prys her onto her back. It's claw reaches for her mouth to open her jaws for dental ID, the eyelids being too delicate even for the light drone model to manipulate; the ork woman comes to at the rough handling and begins to feebly flail at the hachiman, who summarily kneels deeper, and jerks its left blade arm in an upward arc to partially bisect the woman's torso in a spray of blood. 

A howl sounds from the alley between the burning bar and Grand avenue, and a floral blur rockets out from between the buildings and impacts the hachiman unit with a crunch. Joyce has returned.

(Joyce rolls agility+close combat=6+3=9 dice pool = 4 hits. Her attack does 10 damage on a hit)

The demure woman is roaring in anger with her tusks bared and her eyes have gone a solid glowing amber. Her bum rush impacted the light drone like a wrecking ball and the mangled chassis is propelled from the middle of the street to smash onto the curb on the east side of Union st. It feebly raises its still functioning left gun arm and tries to draw a bead on Cho (agility+close combat=10+3=13 dice pool - 4 injury modifiers=9=no hits) but the pathetic clicking of its misfiring weapon is its only response. 

[RedStone]

Like some kind of spindly insect that's had one to many panipopos, Spectre leaps swiftly behind Morrighan as Rook's wheels squeal against the cracked asphalt and through the barrage of gel bullets. She quickly taps her fingers in the pattern that release a black grappling hook from her forearm. Aiming for one of the drones, she feels a jerk and a catch as Morrighan skillfully weaves through the assault like a bat out of hell. 

 

Drone in tow and steadily declining, Spectre braces her arm against seat, setting the lock on the graphene wire and attaching the safety carabiner to Rook's rear hitch, flinching momentarily in hopes that Morrighan didn't see...

 

[Laghail]

OOC: Meredith rolled agility+athletics, which gives here a 10 dice pool (7+3) and that generated 6 hits (two 5's and four 6's). Success! I'll let her narrate road hauling the hapless hachiman unit. 

[DarK_RaideR]

If Kaanta's molotov and subsequent rioting were at least useful in covering everyone's escape, Druss hacking the drone to pieces for no obvious reason is completely devoid of excuses in the eyes of Vintage. The repercussions are immediately apparent, as all other drones go into attack mode and pepper the area in a barrage of gel rounds. How merciful of MCT. Guess they're saving the real killing for their bored security staff. Hopefully, because if they meant to provoke a riot so they can justify a metahuman pogrom, they just got more they could ever hope for.

 

Realizing no bus would make a stop now that the area is under fire, Vintage sighs and starts walking towards some nearby central street so he can grab another form of public transportation and get lost in the crowd. Moments later, Morrighan speeds past on her bike. Spectre Sally is on the back seat, some wire or cable dragging another Hachiman drone behind. Could these rookies make their fraggin' presence any more obvious? Apparently yes. Someone's gotta teach 'em this is no movie or trideo game. Quickly too, before they kill themselves or get him killed.

 

Settling in a bus seat, Vintage whips out his commlink once more to text everyone he met at the bar. "GTFO and be stealthy about it. We gotta talk before meeting Mr. Tanaka. 20:50 outside the San Cha bar."

 

---------------------------------------

OOC: Any response from Wu Sheng yet, @Laghail?

[starpuck]

There's no time for foreplay as Morrighan grabs Rook's throttle grip and turns it firmly in her hand.   The bike rumbles powerfully beneath the two elves and the tires scream as they fight for purchase on the pavement below.   Only the slightest of fishtails begins their speedy departure as they take off in hopes of fleeing the area.   Escape, pure and simple, is on the Phantom Queen's mind...

 

Until she feels the subtle and temporary hang in power as her passenger 'hooks a catch'.   She doesn't even turn around to see what happened, but there's a steeled edge to her tone.   "Whatever you just snagged, you better find a way to ditch -- and fast.   You will not like my methods if it's left to me."   She opens the throttle to go faster and the bike growls huskily in eager compliance.  

 

She knows the way to where they're headed, but until they ditch the tag-a-long, she's going to have to get creative in the route. 

 

"Get on it Sally!"

[Laghail]

Intersection of Union Street & 24th, McClymonds, Oakland

While Sally and Morrighan peel out (potentially with Teros in tow?) the remaining drones have formed a firing line and are advancing south down Union street. The hachiman model typically includes a treaded wheel base and heavier armor styled after the samurai dou and sode, but these lighter walking models are both missing the heavier armor and curiously ignoring hostile targets. Their firing priority seems to focus on unarmed pedestrians, pouring "non-lethal" rounds into the noncombatants, and ending any drone-to-face interaction in a decidedly lethal fashion. The resisting street toughs at first hurled bottles and rocks, but have been replaced by more organized troll and ork youths armed with handguns and clubs, wearing yellow bandanas or caps marked with a red X to brand them as the local x-men street gang.

The drone closest to you lollygagging shadowrunners explodes in a shower of scrap as one of Joyce's piledriver punches propels through the now burning wall of Johnny Midnight's. Joyce is still breathing evenly, unwinded. Her impressive floral sarong clad cleavage is rising and falling at a pace more appropriate to a quiet walk than to street warfare, and her sulfurous, visibly yellow exhalations come at slow intervals. She catches sight of you still clustered around the smokey exit and croaks in a jagged baritone: 

"Joyce said to get to Chinatown, move your crusty hoops!"

 

San Cha Bar, 9th & Alice Street, Chinatown, Oakland

The building screams money in the middle of squalor. San Cha dates back to early 21st century and much of the original warehouse structure is preserved at no small cost. Where a Francisco loft bar might include flashy smart surfaces for every window and table, this bar immediately presses a sense of calm on your AR seared eyes. 

Where ever possible, the walls are left bare and painted in whorls of fire red under a milk tinted laquer. The square tables and bamboo chairs appear to be genuine wood, and are arranged around a two story installation of a rocky slab in the center of the building that quietly burbled water at the peak to glisten down to a narrow pool. Sheer cream colored linen curtains hang in narrow rectangles to devide the interior space and create a sense of privacy for individual groups, while a silent waitstaff appear and disappear silently with refreshments as if by magic. A second story balcony wraps the interior of the building and offers VIP seating above the Orkland riffraff. The flawless calligraphy 巫神 that discreetly mark every window-frame and door lintel explain how the opulent establishment stays unmollested. The nearest neighbor to building is a titty bar cum brothel that could very well do a sideline in snuff shows, judging by the face tattoos and implanted weaponry of the metahuman filth that enter the place.

Drone operated pedicabs were the only hirable options in service during a raid, and the functional tricycles boast a faster speed than walking, and twice the rust of their competitors. While they would have dropped any takers off in record time with the streets almost deserted, the 3x surge pricing helped deliver the shitty experience you expected. 

 

OOC Note: in this format, perception or assensing roles might be a little awkward. Would you as players rather have the GM Posts tell all, and your characters can play ignorant, or not, as benefits your sense of drama; or you give me rolls for perception and I feed you extra info? I'm inclined towards the first answer for easy flow, but whichever sounds more fun. 

[Laghail]

OOC Note: realized I didn't give many actionable hooks.

 

The hostess is a slim ork woman whogreets you with a demure ”你们好”, before asking in English if you're here to see Mister Tanaka. Her ridged silvery cyber arms match the silver floral pattern in her black qipao. She accepts the digital business card from Cho Holistic Solutions, and asks you to follow her to the table.

 

The building is traced in astral fire if any character assesses while inside. From outside, reflecting wards speak of advanced design without allowing your astral sight into the place. As you walk in, you'd feel the dry shimmer of a hefty mana barrier allowing you access, and if you continued assensing, you'd see delicate white fire playing across the geometry of the building and four spirits slowly moving in a patrol circuit. 

 

The matrix side of the building reflects the discretion of the meatspace in the building. A normal bar's AR interface has the subtly of a pachinko parlor with glowing buttons and menus and ads on every surface and occasionally in a floating constellation of garish virtual interaction points. Here, ghostly AR menu toggles hover an inch off the table surfaces as the sole matrix constructs of the bar. A conspicuous lack of recording equipment is installed in the building. No cameras, no mics, and industrial grade insulation in the walls to prevent exterior information gathering. The more paranoid (or experienced) of you would notice the hanging curtains strategically placed so that only a shallow row of tables is exposed to the view from the streets. The fashionable side of Oakland eats in full view of the public, but behind the delicate buttery curtains, table upon table of discreet business is conducted. 

 

Finally arriving to the unremarkable table where an unremarkable round eared Japanese man sits, dressed in a middle grade business suit. He sees you being lead to meet him and he stands to greet you with a shallow bow. 

[Volki]

Kaanta's metal leg clinked against the marble floors of the San Cha Bar as he followed the Ork hostess. The leg was clunky but it served as stash for the stolen cyber decks. It seems that one by one the whole group makes their way into the bar. 

 

As he passes by the transparent AR toggles he initiates a scan against the AR connection of the hostess. If he can get access to her connection then he could maybe get some information about any hushed conversations she had before we got here. Its TOO clean in here and suspiciously low on tech security, he thought to himself. There must be something valuable here that they don't want to be looked at.

 

As he nears the table with a few quick eye movements his audio analyzer kicks on and all the nearby audio begins to be recorded and uploaded to the matrix storage.

 

((Rolling to hack Hostess' AR)

(6(logic) + 4(hacking)+2(code slinger))

(Counted how many were 5 or 6 (per jon)

Failed check :/ 

Rerolled 2 6D due to deck,

Boom barely made check ))

 

The comm link ticks with a "Established connection, exploit successful"

 

After rooting around in her AR memory storage he learns about the embedded cameras that are in her cyber arms. Interestingly it seems that once a year Mr. Tanaka visits this bar every year for the past 3 years on October 20th. Every time he seems to have dealings with shady looking characters who were most likely shadowrunners. 

 

The rest of her jumbled videos of uneventful meetings were downloaded and stored. You never know when a familiar face might become useful. For now its best to keep quiet about most of the info. With a few short taps a single message was broadcast to the other shadowrunners of the group. "The ork squish has cameras in her arms so no heroics or our faces will no doubt be all over everyone's network."

[DarK_RaideR]

Still en route to the Sa Cha bar, Vintage nervously checks his commlink again. No word from Wu Sheng yet. "This don't look good" he thinks to himself.

 

Upon arriving outside the Sa Cha bar, Vintage takes a look for any waiting members of the team. Giving a rest some time to show up, he starts a group call through his commlink so that everyone can hear him, no matter if they're physically around or not.

 

"Alright you action hero wannabes, listen up! It's called Shadowrunning for a reason. We gotta stay below the radar at all times. Could have walked away from that scene, now it's gone into a full-on street battle thanks to your drek. I'm not talking only 'bout the locals. Imagine some Mitsuhama security staff checking out how a routine drop turned into a riot. Or a middle manager who's got to explain to his superiors why MCT lost property in the form of drones, why they gotta spend more money for repairs. Trust me, it will happen, because if there's one thing the Megas hate it's bleeding money. When that happens, our faces are all over the drone and chopper footage. It's reckless, it's unprofessional and it's dangerous. Besides, what does that tell Mr. Tanaka and every other future Mr. Tanaka? Can they trust us for pulling off the job smoothly and quietly? If I was in his shoes, I wouldn't think we're any better than the average street punk."

 

"Anyway, about the meet. Tanaka is a Jap name, if you still haven't wondered why he's meeting us in a Triad joint you better crawl back home now. Make no mistake, this is a job interview. It's a smooth balance;we gotta impress Tanaka enough to get the job and justify our pay, but push it too much and he'll walk. Them Japs are odd with etiquette, easy to insult and you'll never even know it. Let's hear about the job, then we squeeze him for more info and nuyen before we agree or not. Always remember, be professional."

 

"Oh, and Kaanta? Watch who you show that lighter in there"

[Broba Fett]

Pendergast pulls up to the Sa Cha bar and slips his car into park before checking the messages sent by Kaanta and Vintage.

 

Good.  All that action hero bullshit has no place here.  Too messy, not enough... finesse.

 

He jumps out of his sports car and hits the button on the fob to arm the theft prevention system with a chirp of the horn.  He notices a wrinkle in his new tie formed sometime during his escape from the fracas at Johnny's and curses as he fails to smooth it out.  He is not pleased.  

 

Slipping into the bar, Pendergast spots Kaanta and Mr. Tanaka.  It's easy to spot them.  One is a dumb odorous ape incapable of intelligent thought.  The other is Kaanta.  He keeps his frown internal. At least the place is clean.

 

He returns Mr. Tanaka's bow, making sure to bow just a bit deeper in reverence.  After a few minutes Vintage and rest of the group filter in and everyone takes their seats.

 

"Greetings Mr. Tanaka.  How can we be of service to you this evening?"

[Leigh]

Firefox sighs as she watches all of the other Runners leave and nearly all chances of catching a ride leave with them. She is still having a hit of trouble getting out of the crowd until a large hand taps her on the shoulder. "What colour?" the deep voice of a rather brutal looking troll asked.

 

"Vicious Trollop... If you could also score me a ride I'll throw in the matching nail polish." she said eyeing the man with a nervous look. He could flatten her with one good punch and he looked twitchy and entirely too happy to be in the middle of a riotous crowd. He nodded and jerked his head towards the wall as a manic grin spread over his face.

 

"Move it or lose it!" He yells and then charges the wall trying to smash it down with his shoulder. Firefox winces as he slams into it, shoulder first but to her shock, he has actually managed to get through it. The painting that had been on the wall he had smashed in had been covering a side door which was now hanging bent on its hinges. Not one to let an advantage slip by, Fox follows the now cackling troll through the door and out into the panicked crowd outside.

 

OOC: I'll post more a bit later today, my internet access is limited and I'm running out of data on my phone.

 

Sent from my LG-K210 using Tapatalk

 

 

[Teros]

Not entirely sure why some of the team was having confrontation with the drones, Teros thought about going for a surf on a drone that was hooked and flying along the pavement, sparks flying everywhere; but then realized what an obvious distraction that would be.  He would make an excellent target for a firing squad.  He wasn't in the systems....yet, and he would like to keep it that way.  Ducking down an alleyway, the satyr saw Kaanta slip through the shadows and head to the rendezvous point.  Cutting across one block over, Teros made his way to the same destination.  "It would be better if it didn't seem like me and him were both mutually fleeing to the same exact spot" the satyr grumbled to himself.

 

There was something eating away at the satyr as he continued to the meet-up destination.  "I could have sworn I did a previous job with Vintage" Teros rubs the gruff stubble on his chin while he continued hoofing it.  "The jacket is familiar.  Maybe the name or perhaps a voice modulator is what's throwing me off?" he pondered.

 

Just then, there was a beep on his comm, "Alright you action hero wannabes, listen up! ...."  It was Vintage scolding the team.  Speak of the devil.  Teros could only smirk.  Getting to the bar after a few of the others, Teros makes a knowing nod to the future team.  Clicking the strap of his hammer on his belt/bandolier and taking out a very small bottle, the satyr dabbed his finger in the balm and started to scratch at his horns. He waited for Tanaka like the rest of the group as they filed in.

 

The satyr kept eyeing Vintage.  This was going to annoy the hell out of him.

 

Typically, Teros does smaller jobs.  Intimidation factor. Handling a brawl.  A glorified bouncer in some aspects, but someone that tries to learn as much as possible.  Playing the role of a 'slower' mopey satyr serves its purpose.  The best mask is the one that no one knows you're wearing...

[RedStone]

Spectre narrowed her eyes as she muted the comm from the old man, just moments after Morri gave her a what for.

 

What's the use of living life if you don't get to bash a few things down the road? It is really so hard to have fun AND stay under the radar?

 

Shaking her head with a smirk, she tapped her fingers to release the claw, then the carabiner, and steadied herself again back behind Morrighan, reassuring her:

 

"Not to worry, not a scratch, not a dent, not a blemish to your stallion, or I'd kill the offender myself."

 

Only a huff of impatience came back from Morrighan who was set to navigating the roads until they came to a screeching halt at San Cha. Knowing the others were rapidly loosing their patience with her, Spectre flipped her skin back to visible. Best to be transparent for a meeting with the Japs...

[Laghail]

Outside San Cha Bar, 9th & Alice Street, Chinatown, Oakland

As Sally and Morrighan sort out their transportation guest policy, several pedestrians have been passing them and the parked street cycle. The crowd in Oakland Chinatown is a mix of street chic synthleathers and the poly-ethnic confusion of traditional costumes that have enjoyed a renaissance in the 6th world. Alcohol and recreational drugs seem to be the fashion accessory of choice amongst both the traditional and the street crowd. One tall, hawk nosed woman in an acid green hijab over a royal blue motojacket and matching blue synthleather gloves was so apparently taken with her last dose of something that she stumbles into Sally in an intoxicated lurch, just as Sally flips her chameleon skin to invisible. She stares with a stupid expression at Morrighan, three feet away, before continuing on her wobbly way (Sally needs to take a stealth+agility check and report how many 5's and 6's she rolled; Morrighan could roll a bluff+cha check and report how many 5's and 6's she rolled).

[starpuck]

(OOC - I don't think I have bluff, so just rolled CHA, and got a heap of nothing!)

 

The rest of the ride goes far smoother once they ditch the drone, but Morrighan has an earful of lecturing she's got to endure while directing Rook.   "Tell me something I don't know Captain Tight Pants..." she mumbles mostly to herself.     Once free and clear, she takes just a slight detour to let some of the action dissipate out of their wake, then it's straight to the meet up point.

 

Despite Sally's assurance on Rook being fine, Morrighan puts all her attention on inspecting her bike's rear end.   She gives the other elf a narrowed look as she does this, catching the bump-n-stagger.  "Hey!"  She doesn't call out Sally's name this time, but it's clear her words are meant for her.  "We don't have much time, let's polish up and get inside.  We're probably already late."

 

 

[Teros]

5 hours ago, Starpuck said:

 "Tell me something I don't know Captain Tight Pants..."

 

 

[Laghail]

Outside San Cha Bar, 9th & Alice Street, Chinatown, Oakland

Sally is on her skullduggery game enough to know a pickpocket's bump n' grab routine when she sees, or feels, one, and her hand darts to grab the hijab wearing woman's wrist, but she only snags something hard and flat (Sally rolled 4 successes, or enough to not be oblivious, but nothing spectacular) before the woman's "intoxicated" steps expertly bob and weave her way around Sally's second grab, and then she's in the crowd moving away up Alice street. Morrighan noticed nothing whatsoever (0 successes), even managing to screen the woman from Sally's sight. Like a pro.

As a consolation prize, Sally is holding an antique book, a children's novel and apparently a library copy at that, modern epoxy holding the dog eared pages and cardboard cover together. It's titled "So You Want to be a Wizard?" across the front and has a picture of a little girl and a dragon as cover illustration.

 

24th & Mead Street, McClymond, Oakland

Firefox charmed her way out of the burning building with some help from the trusty neighborhood troll crank addict, and she must have caught some kind of transportation, say a drone pedicab or perhaps she bamboozled some commuter into stopping and lending her a ride. Whatever means of locomotion she wrangled, it would have shot east down 24th to escape the growing riot, then up Mead to hit San Pablo Avenue and run into Uptown, and then Chinatown. But before her ride even properly hit Mead, it would have taken her past the chainlink fence separating out the 12 block section of sprawl that had been demarcated for the upcoming urban brawl match. Cameras on the fence posts would report anyone tampering with the barrier for illegal entry and advance scouting of the playfield, but that section of the McClymond sprawl was silent and dark, the ties to the power grid cut days earlier.

Except for a single light that bobbed in a vacant apartment window that overlooked 24th. Firefox had just escaped a burning bar, but she was tough enough to sort out wild imaginings from what was in front of her eyes. The light was following her car. As her ride drove past a building, the light would flick out, then re-ignite in the west-most window of the next building, winking out and reappearing in each window as she passed, but each time descending one story closer to the street as it follows her.

Before it can become more than a curiosity, Firefox's vehicle is crossing Myrtle street and the Urban Brawl field is behind them.

One window stays lit if she looked backwards, watching her ride away.

 

Inside San Cha Bar, 9th & Alice Street, Chinatown, Oakland

Mister Tanaka's flashes a pleased smile at Pendergast's formalities (+1 bonus to the next social roll with Tanaka) and gestures for him and the rest of the group to have a seat. "It is so good to encounter your kind of people with manners Mr.. Pendergast? And we also have the famous Drus, hero of the Orklands! And even the venerable Vintage; Ms Cho does not disappoint." He grins broadly at the three of them before visibly blanching as he takes in Teros. "And your satyr is certainly the largest specimen I've heard of, where ever did you find it?"

As the rest of the group filters in [ooc note: if your character didn't intend to be in the bar, just ignore the connotation to the contrary], he doesn't bother to greet the late arrivers, but his smile widens as each one joins the table.

"I heard there was some," he pauses, fishing for the right euphemism, "political activity in McClymond's tonight. Nothing too disturbing I trust? You came highly recommended as a group by Ms Cho, and I have a matter of some delicacy to discuss."

He clears his throat with a delicate cough before continuing, "first, please understand I represent influential figures. I may be asking you to perform an, unusual errand, but none of the men I represent take this lightly."

Steepling his fingers on the table, he blanks his expression snd says, "We need you to find our lost cat."

[Wild Wolf]

Druss was hardly the type of ork to be struck with nerves, especially when someone noticed who he was as a ball player, but after his run-in with the drone and the ensuing chaos that followed, nerves gripped at him like steel vices. On the Urban Brawl sprawl, he could get away with a swift ass kicking...but out on the streets, as a runner...he would have to think before he acted more often then not. Though...turning that drone into scrap was slightly liberating. Druss had had a drone arm shoved in his mouth for a dental scan on a number of occasions and always wanted to return the favor. The slight brush of the vibro axes along his hips reminded him of that favor and Druss smirked.

 

The scolding from Vintage was heard loud and clear as Druss knew 98% of the scolding was due to his recklessness. "Out here...you have to know the system is ALWAYS against you, Hotshot." Vintage's words echoed in his head. He was just thankful that none of his new teammates were injured.

 

"And we also have the famous Druss, hero of the Orklands!" Mr. Tanaka exclaimed with a bright smile.

 

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Tanaka." Druss returned the smile with a slight head bow. Some of the other runners eyed Druss with keen interests at the mention of "Hero of the Orklands".

 

Even though he had been banned from Urban Brawl, Druss retained a large following. He was wronged by the League and his fans knew it too. See, in Urban Brawl, you can gear up with cyberware as much as your heart desires. Cyberware was abundant across the game of Urban Brawl and any time you could one-up your opponent with upgrades, you would do so in a nanosecond. However, adept powers were not welcomed and warranted an immediate ban when discovered. And when the League discovered that their golden boy, Druss the Harasser, was an adept, they were forced to follow their own fraggin rules and suspend him indefinitely.

 

Druss was shaken out of his thoughts when Mr. Tanaka mentioned "...find our lost cat." He almost snickered but could feel the hard eyes of Vintage burning straight through him and thought otherwise. No need to upset the old elf anymore than I already have...

 

"What kind of cat we talking about, Mr. T? 

 

____________________________________________________

 

OOC: Not sure if I need to roll anything for Fame since Mr. Tanaka recognized me but let me know and I can do that

 

Wolf

[starpuck]

Morrighan was still a bit ticked over the tag-along that Sally acquired in their escape, so she didn't wait for the other Elf to fall in step beside (or behind) her.  Smoothing her long-coat, she started toward the bar and pushed the door open a little more roughly than she would have liked.    She quickly scanned the bar to find the rest of the ensemble, and upon finding them walked over with the aloof posture of someone quite capable of manners and etiquette;  capable however, does not necessarily mean utilized.

 

Tonight however, perhaps from the scolding of the more veteran runner, or maybe just to prove a point, she puts her best foot forward and offered a tipped bow of her head.   "Please forgive the tardiness, I wanted to ensure what discretion remained was kept intact via the route here.  There's another arriving just behind me... I would think."   She cast a glance over her shoulder at this, just briefly, to see if Sally had made it in yet.   

 

As the information started to filter in, she narrowed her brows together, but she let Druss actually voice the question that was rolling in her own head.

 

[DarK_RaideR]

After delivering his speech, Vintage fixes the tie and collar in his suit, then walks inside the Sa Cha bar. Typical Johnson joint, silent and discreet for conducting business away from prying eyes. Tanaka is not new to this.

 

The elf takes a short bow upon reaching Mr. Tanaka's table;deep enough to show respect but not too deep as to be considered ironic and thus, disrespectful. Jap etiquette is all about balance, doing the thing exactly as the protocol demands. Hearing Tanaka call Druss "hero of the Orklands" is like a knife stab to Vin's gut. Apparently the axe crazy orc is somewhat famous. Hopefully he's some kind of resistance fighter and MCT will file the drone attack as a routine loss, because if he's not, he's in deep drek. The mention of his own handle is soothing in comparison, even if "venerable" comes with it. A runner lives and dies by their reputation. You want Johnsons to know you and pretty much everyone else not to.

 

Easing back into his seat, he hears the Johnson make standard introductions about confidentiality and the higher powers behind them. The mission itself comes as somewhat of a surprise, but Vintage bounces back fast and never seems to lose his cool.

 

"Must be one hell of a cat if you need a crew that's big and famous as this, Mr. Tanaka. Precious too, if you're willing to employ us. My only question is how dangerous finding this cat will be. Risk factors into the price, as you are probably well aware."

 

Deep down inside, Vintage is praying this isn't some corp-enhanced super feline killer they want to test against a group of runners.

 

OOC: Setting up the discussion to name our price and press for more nuten later. I assume a Negotiation roll will come down the road, but let me know if you need one now.

[RedStone]

Having slid in behind the crowd, Sally was able to avoid the greeting exchange but was sure to meet Tanaka's glance over with a reverent nod and drop of gaze, dipping in to the lessons she'd learned from every step out of the back allies that raised her....Yes sir, no sir, yes, I know how this goes... I know what you want to see... 

 

Sally snorted to herself as old man elf started yammering again after being looked over in favor of that almost painfully rugged, but clearly way-too-full-of-himself Druss.  Well we know who wants to hold the reins here, she thought, and it was just fine by her. No one there would settle for less than she would, so as the others continued to size each other up, Sally kept a soft eye on Tanaka but let her hands turn the children's book over in her lap, running a sharp nail over the cracked cover and the drawing of the little girl. 

 

 

[Laghail]

San Cha Bar, 9th & Alice Street, Chinatown, Oakland

"Risk Mr. Vintage? You're asking about risk and price, when all I ask is the simple favor of a beloved pet returned? Surely we could call it a favor between new friends and move on to more serious business arrangements next time."

The corners of Mister Tanaka's mouth twitch in a contained smile and he spares you from entertaining the joke for long.

"But no Mr. Druss, it's the family pet of these friends of mine, and it seems to have gotten lose in the corridors of the Shiawase arcology here in Oakland." He pronounces the company name with a mocking American accent, 'shee-uh-wayz'.  "An inconsequential thing, except my friends carelessly left an important data fob clipped on to the beast's collar."

He shrugs and helplessly holds out his hands, then languidly tics his fingertips through a brief series of commands that generate a glowing blue AR file icon mid-air, which morphs into a three dimensional video of a chausie housecat. Tawny fur fading into black rings on it's tail, and a white bib, banded with a black smart collar, and hanging from the collar, an innocuous pinky sized rectangle.

"This is Goodwin, he was last seen running into the arcology last week, and you know what those Osaka clowns are like; they can't just return the stray pet. So it becomes a whole affair, we certainly can't step on precious 'shee-uh-wayz' pride, and I'm called upon to hire experts like yourself. For a cat."

Tanaka shakes his head at the farce of it all, and makes a flicking motion, queuing a digital contract to appear in your inboxes. The figure following the ¥ symbol is reasonable for a group your size, assuming the task kept you busy for a week or less, with a some padding to show good faith, but no one could accuse Tanaka of charity. The contract doesn't mention those magic words, "payment in advance", but it's otherwise identical to other contracts you've signed for other Mister Johnson's and Mister Tanaka's.

"A job this simple, there really isn't much to discuss. I can share Goodwin's MyPetSafe tracking code, but in an institution of that caliber, the smartcollar can't hardly transmit through the privacy shielding to the outside. And needless to say, the cat returned alive, with the collar is required. And that's it, you now have all the information I have about this job."

Arms crossed in apparent disinterest, he sits back as a waitress carrying a bamboo tray reaches the table, she sets a white china teapot and cups on the table and departs, each vessel encircled with a pale blue dragon enamel dragon.

 

Sally: Your questing fingernail quickly discovers that the pages are glued together, except for a seam in the middle of the book. Assuming you wanted to be discreet, if you cracked the book open, you'd find it's been hollowed out to make an inconspicuous carrying case. Because, you know, hauling around an antique deadtrees book like a fraggin Portland Vicky, that's inconspicuous.

Inside, are several dried buds of a green black plant, like fronds of seaweed that took to imitating brussels sprouts. If you threw caution to the wind and opened the makeshift box, you'd see the words "smoke me for magic" scratched on the inside lid.

[DarK_RaideR]

Vintage mirrors Tanaka as he tries to contain a smile of his own. Novice runners might have fallen for such tricks, but the elf won't. "A job 'this simple', Mr Tanaka?" he asks, the smile finally crossing his face. "With all due respect, it's not like you're sending the average sarariman to pick up the pet. This is a sizeable group of expert professionals you are asking to go into Wolves of Odin territory, infiltrate a Shiawase arcology and extract a valuable data fob. Which just so happens to be strapped on this cat's collar." Having given an actual perspective of the job, Vintage gets ready to deliver the punchline.

 

"Clearly this data is of great value to those you represent. I am not convinced the number on this contract reflects that, as well as the magnitute of the feat requested. especially if we are expected to take measures in case Shiawase people have accessed it."

 

Spoiler

 

Negotiation test: Charisma (7) + Skill (3) + Control thoughts (1)

4 Successes

Rerolling 1 Control thoughts die due to Mentor Spirit and 2 more thanks to Silver Tongue quality

Total: 5 Successes

 

 

[Leigh]

"Well that's just damn strange now isn't it?" she says more to herself, than the Troll that sits in front of her on the bike as she heads down 24th towards the next location. She shivers involuntarily at how creepy that seems this time of night in an un-powered section of the city. "Can we go a little faster? I'm going to be a bit late and I really don't want to find out my friends left without me if I'm too late you know?" she says to the Troll in front of her and he urges the bike into a higher gear and comes close to passing the speed limit down the street, taking the corner onto Mead just slow enough to not crash the bike.

 

After her ride drops her off and the payment of polish is handed over, Fox smooths out her shirt, peaks in the front window to get a look at the San Cha bar and frowns. She is not dressed for the location. Taking off her glasses and tucking them into a pocket she pulls down her hair, runs her fingers through it, sectioning it three for braiding, tugs on the first section, changing the colour to a deeper shade of red, and the second to make it a lighter orange colour before weaving it into an over the shoulder plait. She shucks her bag, digs through it and pulls out a green and black vaguely traditional Asian styled top and quickly changes in the small alley between the San Cha and the next place over. She tosses her discarded shirt back into her bag and then heads inside.

 

She nods to her group and sits down in an empty seat and simply listens as Tanaka and Vintage seem to be verbally sparring. She rolls her eyes at the roundabout manner of the discussion but keeps her mouth shut for a moment longer.  She twists what looks like a simple pair of earrings and closes her eyes as she accesses the matrix. Tapping into the floating AR file to copy what she can and see what meta data there might be that she can then use to attempt to find a basic location on the animal or it's potential owners. She smiles slightly as she is working because let's face it, the cat is adorable.

 

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Dice stuff:

Hacking the file: 3+6(Logic)+1 (datajack/headwear)+2(code slinger)

result: 6 passing dice (whoot!)