Get a Room!

Forums Forums 2075: Stormy Waters Song of Patterns Wyches' Waltz

  • Wyches' Waltz

     aria updated 1 year, 10 months ago 4 Members · 169 Posts
  • aria

    Member
    November 21, 2018 at 12:34 pm

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Club Penumbra, Fifth Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    Torrent settled back in to the secluded booth and soaked up the retro moonscape atmosphere of the venerated club. It reminded him of the hours he’d spent here in the fifties as a younger man, and reminded him that the dull ache in his bones wasn’t going away any more…ruefully he had to admit that he was getting old. Still, there was time for a few more good deeds before he shuffled off and his legacy was well and truly represented. Part of that legacy was sitting across from him, Switch, one of his numerous progeny. Her dark skin-tight gothic outfit and general pallor blended well with the décor and he watched her with mild amusement and genuine pride as she used her Gifts to flip one of her many throwing spikes in an impossible gyration around the booth before plucking it telekinetically out of the air and sending it looping in another orbit. What it was in his gene pool that had spawned so many changelings, and with significant magic to boot, was still a mystery to most people, but then he’d nursed the secret of his own minor Gifts all these years and the ancient Celtic blood was still strong in his veins and that accounted for far more.

    He smoothed the expensive suit down as he leant back to ease the ache in his back. The blue grey material shimmered in the neon overhead and the conservative cut helped to hide the big pistol that he sported, old habits and all that. His newest murderous duo should be here soon and he liked the solid comfort of the blocky piece of iron, even if he would never have time to draw it if they decided to play rough. But then that was why Switch was with him. They had done well in the last two test runs he’d set up for them but now it was time for them to do some serious work, work with consequences…

    “Why don’t you go and dance sweetheart, you can watch me as well from down there and we don’t want to make our guests nervous”

    “I hate this retro shit hole” she replied acerbically “why you insist on coming here I never understand. While we’re at it remind me why we are in Seattle again? I miss London”

    “I know you do angel, but we go were the work is and right now that is here”

    She snorted in disbelief but nevertheless rose gracefully and stalked down to the dance floor, her spikes tucking themselves neatly in to the boning of her corset with no apparent intervention on her part. For all that she professed to hate the place she threw herself in to the dancing throng with abandon and Torrent could only smile…

    …not long now

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Seattle Opera House, 800 North Taylor Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    Lace moved effortlessly through the after show party in one of the upstairs halls at the Opera. The Pacific Northwest Ballet had finished their run of Swan Lake and someone had thought it would be good Christmas PR for the dancers to mingle with the great and the good of Seattle’s high society. And where society events happened Silk had Lace watching the political shenanigans, petty social rivalries and gossip mongering with great interest.

    She was dressed in a subtly revealing gown in a dark hue that seemed to absorb the light and contrasted with her toned flesh. It wasn’t the cosmetically altered perfection of so many of the patrons around her…after all, being too perfect was alien and unforgiving and her easy smile and dancing eyes were anything but. Youth was clearly on her side but that had been enhanced with layers of magic, not in a blatant way, but just enough to make her that little more approachable without drawing too much attention to her. It was a delicate balance, one that she was getting better at handling as she flitted from one social gathering to the next. Nobody really thought to question how an obscure politics student managed to make it on to the guest list of these events, she certainly seemed to lack the credentials of so many of the hoi polloi. She herself never questioned how Silk managed to get her in with apparently so little effort, she just intended to enjoy herself as much as possible, whilst being mindful of the titbits of paydata that Silk was after.

    #01

  • brickyardbabe

    Member
    November 22, 2018 at 12:55 am

    The Mitsubishi Shadow’s twin-turbo V6 screamed as Calista shot across the bridge from Bellevue to downtown, the speedometer hovering at 200 kph with a third of a dial to go. The low-slung, sleek machine was painted a deep, sinister gunmetal grey with glowing neon accents in blue, orange, and gold swirling across the fenders as though being thrown by the wheels. The street glowed a vivid purple with the light being thrown from the undercarriage, and the headlights threw long cones of blue-white light. Somewhere a few minutes behind her, the heavily modified GMC Phoenix containing her friend and partner would be chasing her, roaring its bass roar, but for now she was alone but for the speed and the music.

    She and Foxglove had spent two months rebuilding her, first the engine on the boat from Istanbul, then the frame and the rest of her in the devilrat trap doss with the rusted out carport in Kingston. Hours and hours, turning bolts, stripping the interior, running wires and lines and placing panels and systems, tweaking the computer…It had been a labor of love, and perhaps the first thing Calista had done with a friend in years. Fox had taught her how everything worked, and on the day it was finished, Fox had handed over the keys and taught her how to drive stick.

    Now she had a supercar, the fastest that 2049 had to offer. She’d driven it to learn how before tonight, but this was the first time she’d had a real freeway on which she could really open up her engine. She let out an exultant whoop and shifted into 6th, the car nothing but a glowing blur as she whipped it around a BMW M8 doing a paltry hundred and twenty as she crossed into downtown. The whole interior vibrated with KillAssist’s first album, and as she slowed the car down and took her exit, she sang along to the song “Wall to Wall”, exercising her magical voice talents to sing a perfect fifth above the lead singer’s voice.

    A few minutes later, she was in front of Club Penumbra, Seattle’s most venerable nightspot. It didn’t have the caché of Dante’s Inferno, or the glitz of the gates, or the raw sexuality of Powerline, but it had history. She was hoping to help get KillAssist booked here to kick off their new underground rebel-idoru status, but for now she was just another patron, albeit a stunner. Or at least she would be in a minute.

    Time to make an entrance.

    Calista pulled into valet parking and stepped out, taking a deep breath. Suddenly she was all legs, sliding out of the low door and leading with a seventeen centimeter silver heel, turning the strut and grace and glitz to maximum, magic and clothing and natural gifts turning her from pretty banshee to exotic, novahot newcomer. She went from sitting to standing in a single sinuous motion, and herr Zoë Nightshade minidress was the same color as the dark chassis, swirling around pale thighs and offering a glimpse of brief, lacy purple panties. She handed the keys over to the valet, and the colors on her car went out, leaving it just a sleek, gunmetal shape at the curb.

    As the Mitsubishi’s colors faded, hers began. At the top of her head, fiberoptic strands in her hair glowed amethyst, the color rolling down the blonde strands, and the contacts that went with her dress picked up the hue, causing her eyes to blaze with gem-colored light. The vivid purple light rolled on down through her dress in a wave, leaving behind a spray of detailed purple roses on the tight-fitting, dark grey synthsilk, winding over her breasts and down her ribs to the hem of her skirt, but it didn’t stop there, the glow suffusing even her heels, making it seems as though she walked on platforms and spikes of purple foxfire.

    Pulling her masking tight around her aura, Calista made herself look like a practicioner, but a human one and nowhere near in the stratospheric class she really was. Calista slipped the valet a two hundred nuyen tip, then strode past the bouncers as if she owned the place, her glittery mascara and eyeshadow refracting the neon of the club’s sign in a thousand shining sparks, lips a fiery haze as she passed through the door, putting an extra bit of kink in her step eve as dual-natured eyes scanned the scene. She shot a wicked little smile at the coat girl just inside the door and leaned on the young woman’s counter. “Hello, sweetheart.” She purred with just a trace of a French accent. “I’m looking for a friend of mine…”

    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  brickyardbabe.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  brickyardbabe.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  brickyardbabe.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  brickyardbabe. Reason: Clarity. And forgetting basic stuff because I'm half asleep
  • foxglove

    Member
    November 22, 2018 at 3:17 am

    The engine bellowed like an angry dragon within the belly of Foxglove’s Phoenix as it flew down the highway, the elf’s cyber eyes keeping watch for any suspicious vehicles that might have been following the Mitsubishi Shadow that had preceded her.

    At least, that was what she told herself to make her feel better. In all actuality, it was because Miser–Calista’s Yerzed-out supercar was faster than hers, and it bothered the drek out of the Nocturna. She would really have to fix that…

    But, for now, it was time to move on to the next job. Her boots did a quick tap dance on the pedals, the roar of the engine very briefly becoming a growl, and her right hand jammed the shifter into 6th, foot punching the throttle again and sending the small dragon back into its fury as she, too, whipped around that same BMW. The poor bastard inside was, by now, cursing in sulfurous indignation as she passed. Especially since she had just cut him off to get to the ramp.

    Foxglove followed a similar path to the one Calista had, stepping out at the valet to hand over her keys. Before the man could reach the pitch-black Phoenix, however, she grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a searing glare. “You touch my stereo and I’ll make your head the new hood ornament.” With that done, and the man sufficiently terrified, she stepped up to the door.

    Normally, this wasn’t her type of scene, and it took some convincing from the Banshee for her to change her outfit to match the place of the meet. Instead of her usual combat boots, Fox wore black, knee-high, thick-tread, heeled boots; her cargo pants had been replaced by black, skin-tight, behemoth hide pants; and, finally, her usual button-up shirt was replaced by a black, Vashon Island, armored corset adorned with platinum buckles and chains. She managed to keep her Ace of Coins leather coat, but only because it actually went with the outfit. Everything about her was monochrome, black and shiny platinum. Even the makeup that Calista somehow talked her into wearing carried the same pallet, and she had shifted her eye color to match the buckles on her corset. The only color in the entire getup was that of her own purple skin and glowing, pink hair.

    Once over the threshold of the club, Fox had to wave off an offer to take her coat. She liked that coat, damnit, and it hid the Aries Predator under her left shoulder, besides.

    Her eyes scanned the place as she settled her nerves. The place was crowded with people, but unlike that tourist trap from a couple months ago, this place was too crowded, which was just about as good as no people at all. Despite all of that, however, it didn’t take her long to spot her speedy friend, considering the woman had decided to forego any sense of subtlety. Though, that seemed to be the way things just sort of worked out with the two of them: the pretty assistant and the quick-handed magician…though it was the assistant that actually had the magic, in this case.

    Foxglove made her way toward the glowing elf, casually slipping between crowds of people, but never quite approaching fully. Watching, she was, and waiting to see who took the bait.

    #01-/

    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  foxglove.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  foxglove.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  foxglove.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  foxglove.
    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  foxglove.
  • aria

    Member
    November 22, 2018 at 12:30 pm

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Club Penumbra, Fifth Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    Misery, and effectively Foxglove, were pointed in the direction of Torrent’s slightly shabby booth on the upper level overlooking the moonscape dance floor. Weaving through the thrashing bodies, most of them old enough to know better, they were forced to use their superior physiques to avoid being bumped, jostled or groped at…the latter quickly quelled with a glare. Up above it was only marginally quieter but served to keep their conversations discrete. Torrent was exactly as they’d first met him, although there was considerably more respect in the greeting he offered them this time. His suit and aftershave were expensive and his tusks polished to an iridescent gleam. His demeanour, and aura, were calm and confident, utterly in control, as befitted a fixer of international standing. His tone was quiet as he leant forwards, barely audible over the thumping bass of the ancient Concrete Dreams track as he got straight down to business

    “Ladies, please join me. I have taken the liberty of ordering some drinks for appearances but we’re not here to socialise, that can come later. If you’re in the market for employment then there’s a Johnson in one of the private meeting rooms upstairs eager to meet two of your calibre…? Unless you have any questions for me first?”

    #02

  • brickyardbabe

    Member
    November 22, 2018 at 1:10 pm

    Calista- still Misery to this man- glanced back and waved Foxglove over with a small gesture. It wouldn’t look like a beckoning to anyone watching, but it was one of a double-dozen she and Fox had worked out in the last few months, an informal combat cant for conveying information quickly under adverse conditions. “Job offer. Johnson’s in the building.” She said, subvocalizing for her throat mic.

    Calista turned her gaze more fully on Torrent. Out of respect, she didn’t ratchet up the come-hither to blistering levels, but leaning forward and crossing her arms on the edge of the table did do interesting things to her curves, pushing her chest up and her hips out as she arched her back. “Not particularly. I have some side business I’d like to ask about, regarding any connections to the local music scene you might have. I assume we’ll get a brief on Johnson either in a moment or right after the meet?”

  • foxglove

    Member
    November 22, 2018 at 2:08 pm

    Foxglove caught the motion, waiting a tick or two so it didn’t seem too obvious what Calista had just done before weaving her way toward the table. She stood to the Banshee’s right and just behind, her arms crossed and feet at shoulder-width. The “menacing bodyguard” to Calista’s “show-girl chic.”

    She rose a brow at the mention of the Johnson through the subvocals, but kept her eyes on Torrent so it looked like it was directed at him. The Johnson? Here? He would probably have a private room for the meet, but who would rent a private room at Penumbra? They were expensive, and less secure than some other places, so why here? Though, it might bode well for their pay if the person was able to afford it.

    <<Odd place. More secure options elsewhere.>> She subvocalized back, making nary a twitch on her outer mask.

    #02-1

  • aria

    Member
    November 23, 2018 at 12:11 pm

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Club Penumbra, Fifth Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    Torrent smiled genially “I will give you a bit of intel about the J that she won’t mind me sharing. We’ve worked together for years on and off and developed a good relationship. Any background check will point to Aztechnology as her employer but I can tell you that she used to be Ares and now works for Horizon. She’s a professional J and has a reputation for being scrupulously fair but also ruthless with anyone who tries to renege on an agreement. Don’t piss her off and you’ll be fine!”

    When Mercy and Foxglove located the upper private room that the J had hired they were granted entry without question and admitted in to the presence of a woman of indeterminate age, anywhere between thirty and fifty. She was impeccably dressed in a casual Tres Chic* silk skirt suit in steely blue with a subtle platinum tribal broach on the lapel which hinted further at Mexican roots. Her cheekbones and skin tone were just right for selling the Aztech line too, for those observant enough to follow the clues. The joys of misdirection, some runners would never even notice, some would buy the line, most wouldn’t care…

    Her voice was business-like and devoid of any emotion, as was her aura

    “Foxglove, Misery, thank you for coming. I will get straight to the point. My company have a re-education facility here in Seattle that turns around the lives of wayward members of society and helps them to better serve the common good. I have an interest in a young lady, an unlicensed mage despite being a SINer, who would benefit from that program. Unfortunately she is unlikely to see it that way before attending, hence talking to you. Were I to contact the authorities she would inevitably be detained and it is our feeling that a penal sentence would inevitably do more harm than good and be a waste of her talents. If you are interested in this assignment we can discuss compensation and outline the details of the individual in question.”

    #03

    * An Aztechnology brand

  • brickyardbabe

    Member
    November 23, 2018 at 2:33 pm

    Oh, drek!

    Of course. Months of running, hiding, training, her memory coming back in fits and starts, the tears and the nightmares, and a few odd runs here and there to make ends meet and build up a web of connections. And their first run, their first real run and step into the Seattle shadows was for a goddamn Azzie. Okay, well, not an Azzie but one who claimed to be, and there were stories about Horizon, too…why would she want to be mistaken for an Aztechnology representative? They didn’t take kindly to corporate poaching, even more so than other corps, and they had a whole other set of ways to express their displeasure outside of the normal channels and methods.

    And a kidnapping of sorts? Grabbing some poor slot with a spark of magical talent and selling her up the river to Horizon for them to do gods-knew-what? Calista had experience with that sort of nightmare.

    But…

    They needed this work. They needed the rep and the money and the recognition that came with a run like this. Could she do that to some poor girl? Probably. She’d grown hard these last months, but there was still a core of decency in Calista, and it railed at the idea of giving anyone to the Azzies, especially a mage. But she probably wasn’t going to like it, not one bit.

    Desperately searching for an out, wanting to tip the scales one way or the other, Calista’s glowing-purple-lensed eyes centered on Mrs. Johnson. “May I ask why, and what your plan for her disposition is? Surely you know of your company’s- admittedly probably exaggerated- reputation, and how it sounds for you to ask us to deliver an unlicensed mage.” She smiled slightly, without mirth. “And the appearance! You may not truly be an Aztechnology representative, but we have to deal with the fallout from your appearance. Aiding and abetting blood magic is a death sentence as much as blood magic practice itself, and DIMR will pay a bounty for a blood mage’s cohorts. You have extraterritoriality, but we do not.”

    While she waited for an answer, she subvocalized to Foxglove <<Well. Super. Thoughts? I know we told Torrent no limits on job type, but this is…not what I had in mind.>>

  • foxglove

    Member
    November 23, 2018 at 3:41 pm

    Foxglove took up her position standing to the right and slightly behind Calista, again, whether the Banshee opted to stand or sit. With her arms crossed and her face its usual mask of “pissed off neutral” she watched Mrs. J carefully. <<This is a completely drek run, is what I think. But we need it, so we’ll do it.>> She subvocaled back, <<I also find it strange that Torrent told us she was working for Horizon, but she appears, for all intents and purposes, to be Azzie.>>

    So where was the little mage girl really going? Or was she actually going to the Azzies?

    Fox kept quiet, however, since Calista had already essentially asked what the Nocturna was thinking. Besides, she wanted to get a better feel for their Mrs. J before she said anything of import. She had the feeling that she would need to choose her words very carefully, even aside from her usual dislike of talking to people she didn’t know.

    #03-1

    • This reply was modified 2 years ago by  foxglove.
  • aria

    Member
    November 26, 2018 at 5:00 am

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Club Penumbra, Fifth Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    The Johnson twitched an eyebrow at Misery’s questions but otherwise gave no sign that she was disturbed in any way.

    “What becomes of the girl is not really your concern, but she will not be harmed in any way, that would be” a slight pause “…unprofitable…after all contractor’s such as yourselves are hardly cheap. As to sacrifice magic, I can similarly assure you that there will be no such practices near this run or subsequently near the girl. So, are you interested in the job or do I need to look elsewhere for professional services?”

    #04

  • brickyardbabe

    Member
    November 26, 2018 at 12:49 pm

    [color purple]My, what a specific answer![/color]

    Calista frowned slightly. She didn’t love this job. The answer mollified her, even if it wasn’t really what she was asking, but she still thought this run slotted hellhound meat.

    But at the end of the night, they needed the job, even if it was a drek job. She glanced back at Fox, who gave her the nod, and that sealed it. Turning back to the Johnson, Calista said, “Alright, Ms. Johnson. We’ll take your job. Torrent here is a witness to our acceptance.” Her voice was a silky-smooth soprano, almost hypnotically pleasant in its tones. Brushing a lock of glowing hair behind her ear in a calculatedly human gesture, she continued, “We’ll need details, stipulations, and any intel you have.”

  • foxglove

    Member
    November 26, 2018 at 1:15 pm

    “We can discuss compensation [i]after[/i] those details have been covered.” Fox said in her usual flat, almost-growling tone, finally speaking up after the entire time of silence. “We will also need to know if [i]you[/i] will be providing anything for this run and what kind of time table we’re working with.”

    Foxglove didn’t like the sound of this job any more than Calista did. Frag, they had just broken some magically-talented girls away from a corporation, and now they were dragging one into one? Such was the life of the Shadowrunner, she supposed. Sometimes they did the right thing.

    And sometimes they sold magical girls up the river for money.

    #04-2

  • aria

    Member
    November 27, 2018 at 12:08 pm

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Club Penumbra, Fifth Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    “Excellent” the Johnson replied “The girl is one Elizabeth Smart. She is a politics student at Seattle U, when she can be bothered to attend lectures. Details of her current address, SIN and course information are detailed on the ARO” and she flicked it across to Misery’s and Foxglove’s ‘links. “She is also a socialite and seems to turn up at all sorts of parties and events where one would normally not expect a lowly student to receive an invitation, or afford one. Our deckers have not yet discovered who is responsible for sourcing those invites but Miss Smart clearly has connections we have not yet verified. Any paydata you are able to validate on that will be considered for a bonus to your fees but has not been deemed to affect the principle goal of the operation.

    We do not have any specific stipulations for this run other than the obvious one, we need Miss Smart unharmed, relatively speaking. There are no timescale requirements but we do not expect you to undertake an extended legwork operation for a SINer with known movements. Make your initial appraisals and we will expect positive results soon.

    Any other questions?”

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Seattle Opera House, 800 North Taylor Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    Lace twirled around the small dance floor in the arms of the Evo exec that she had decided held the best titbits of intel for the evening. He gripped her a little too tightly to himself but he was a competent dancer and she was enjoying the sensation until she, apparently breathlessly, led him away from the other dancers and stumbled artfully towards the bar. Two champagne flutes in hand, she subtly evaded the arm that tried to reach around her waist, and headed to the balcony. Apparently unaware of the chill December air on her bare skin she nevertheless accepted the exec’s dinner jacket around her shoulders. She read the flow of events perfectly, instilling just the right amount of adrenalin, alcohol and sexuality to ever so gently override the exec’s normal caution about revealing corporate secrets

    “So, tell me about the Monads,” she spoke in a hushed tone imbued with all the Gift that she could muster, her voice reaching past his conscious mind to tug at the animal brain that wanted to please this beautiful young woman “It sounds so exciting!”

    #05

  • brickyardbabe

    Member
    November 28, 2018 at 12:17 pm

    Calista gave the ARO a cursory examination, listening with one ear while she considered. Okay, a Uni student was less terrible than she feared, and it was looking like she was unlicensed but an actual practitioner. The visions of some wild, untrained spark of a child being handed over to these people vanished, replaced by considering the difficulties of extracting what appeared to be another shadowrunner. Young, brash, more social than stealth or combat, but a ‘runner nonetheless. ‘Runners made preparations as naturally as breathing as Calista had found over the last six months, and it was amazing what an array of little tricks they could amass.

    So this was still a drek run, but for different reasons.

    Misery looked back at Foxglove and raised an eyebrow. The unspoken question was clear after months of traveling together. Could they do it? Would they do it? The answer, equally clear. Yes, because they had to, like so many other things in the last half-year.

    She turned back to the Johnson and nodded. “This seems acceptable. I do have other questions, mostly parameter related. Is this a quiet run, or loud? Are there specific parameters for how you want her snatched? Will you be providing material or manpower, or is that up to us? Can we expense to an account, or are we on our own for means? What’s the pay? And finally, define ‘relatively unharmed’ for me, please.”

  • foxglove

    Member
    November 28, 2018 at 3:51 pm

    Foxglove took her own look at the ARO, pulling it up in a HUD overlaying her cybereyes. She kept her neutral mask externally, but internally she was cursing up a storm.

    Well, wasn’t this a giant pile of dragon drek.

    Considering the fact the girl rarely went to lectures and somehow managed to weasel her way into highfalutin parties, Fox figured the whole “university student” thing was just a cover to explain away her presence in Seattle. Getting those exclusive invitations probably meant a decker. With her being a mage, that meant the decker was someone else, which meant backup of either the shadowy or the corporate kind and Fox couldn’t see this sort of thing as being entirely corp.

    So, the run was now easier from a moral standpoint…but much more difficult from a situational one.

    Foxglove caught the glance Calista gave her, meeting her gaze and responding to the arched brow with a barely perceptible twitch of her own, along with the tensing of one side of her lips and ever so slight tilt of the head in the facial equivalent of a shrug. They would have to figure out how to do this job, one way or another.

    She had to admit, though, that she was glad for the Banshee’s willingness to be the mouthpiece, as well as for how easily the girl had taken to running the shadows. As Fox listened to the questions asked, she found that Calista had covered everything she, herself, had wanted to ask for the moment, and so was able to continue watching Mrs. J as they waited for her answers.

    #05-2

    • This reply was modified 1 year, 12 months ago by  foxglove.
    • This reply was modified 1 year, 12 months ago by  foxglove.
  • aria

    Member
    November 29, 2018 at 7:48 am

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Club Penumbra, Fifth Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    “We recognise that you may need to subdue the young woman. But no abuse, and no lasting damage. Any medical expenses incurred in returning her to full health will be deducted from your fee.” She paused for a moment “Loud or quiet is entirely at your discretion although I would have thought quiet would be preferable from your perspective? There is no need for us to micromanage your run, Torrent has vouched for you so we expect you to carry it out as best determined by yourselves. We will not be providing you with additional resources but I am prepared to accept reasonable expenses. Run these through Torrent, I do not anticipate contact with yourselves until the conclusion of the run so he will act in our stead…”

    And so the haggling over upfront costs and final payment continued until both parties were satisfied, more or less, that they were getting what they wanted at an acceptable rate…*

    “Now, anything else?”

    Spoiler

    #06

  • brickyardbabe

    Member
    November 29, 2018 at 8:28 pm

    Calista looked back at Foxglove, making a small “Go ahead” gesture. When it yielded nothing immediate, she turned back to the Johnson. “No, Mrs. Johnson, no further questions*.” She sat back and studied the Johnson, then Torrent. New ‘runners, no local rep but with references and skills on demonstration. Honest run, or fantastically overpaid cats’ paws? Probably both, Calista decided. It was a rare run that didn’t have any sign of the Johnson lubing up and telling the ‘runners that they’d dropped a credstick.

    At least if she was going to get slotted, she was going to be well-paid for it.

    Calista exhaled through her nose, waiting to see if the Johnson would leave. In the meantime, she flicked upon the ARO, setting it to minimum opacity so she could still see through it, and began scanning the data for anything useful, useable, or unusual.

    Spoiler
  • foxglove

    Member
    November 30, 2018 at 1:44 am

    Meanwhile, Foxglove conducted similar research. However, while Calista looked for delivery and contact info, Fox looked at things more from a Shadowrunner’s point of view. She looked at the girl’s party history, checking for any trends or similarities, particularly having to do with guests and venues. She also looked at the girl’s schedule, any of the target’s own contacts that might be listed, any known friends or people she tended to spend time with, and places she frequented.

    The Johnson had said she didn’t expect them to have to do extensive legwork, but Fox wanted to know just how little legwork she would have to do.

    #06-3

  • foxglove

    Member
    December 1, 2018 at 3:10 pm

    Once the Johnson had left the room, leaving Fox and Cali to their own devices, Foxglove sat down in one of the plush chairs, her feet flat on the ground and her elbows on her knees as she frowned. Ok, so not quite a shadowrunner, from what she could find in about her in the files, but the girl apparently knew how to work a party. Though, having apparently been a corp kid, that wasn’t entirely surprising. Mother was deceased, brother was elsewhere, but Father was still in town and in touch. The only other person Fox could find that she spent a fair amount of time with was someone called “Silk.”

    Silk…where had she heard that name before? She knew she had. Perhaps while doing legwork for some other past run? Someone she was trying to get information from had mentioned her, hadn’t they…

    That didn’t thrill her. If Silk was in the information business like Fox remembered, and if this girl they were snatching was someone close to her, that would burn a rather valuable bridge.

    Having gotten as much as she could from the provided information, she began exchanging her notes with Calista, sharing what she had and seeing if the Banshee had caught anything she hadn’t. “I like this less and less,” she grumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with an irritated flick of the silver zippo. “She has close connections with Silk who, if I’m remembering my brokers right, is fairly novahot in the information scene. We burn little miss Sailor Scout, we burn that line of information for ourselves, and I’m not sure if we can manage to keep both job and credit.”

    Foxglove leaned back in the chair, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out toward the ceiling. “We need to talk to some people, maybe keep watch on the girl and figure out her usual movements.”

    #07-3

  • aria

    Member
    December 4, 2018 at 9:42 am

    [Evening, Tuesday December 21, 2077; Balcony, Seattle Opera House, 800 North Taylor Avenue, Downtown Seattle]

    Lace tolerated the man’s hand on her arse and the slightly sour smell of his alcohol laden breath as he whispered down in to her ear, all the information recorded away for Silk to look over later. Then as his groping became more vigorous she levelled her gaze at him and in a Voice that would have done any Bene Gesserit novitiate proud said

    “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME” and he reacted as if stung. Reaching up to straighten his collar with a smile she offered him her champagne flute, this time in a much more muted tone said “Drink This” and he willingly gulped down the expensive bubbles. All the more expensive for the tiny dose of Laés that she had slipped in moments before…just enough for him to remember the nice dance with the sweet young thing, but not recall the corporate secrets he had been all too willing to share.

    Leaving him standing bereft on the balcony she rejoined the party. She’d seen her fellow society snitch Cobweb earlier and she was keen to catch up with the dancer, and perhaps even persuade Cobweb’s lover Corsaire to dance with her…

    #07

Viewing 1 - 20 of 169 posts

Log in to reply.

Original Post
0 of 0 posts June 2018
Now
Who’s Online
There are no users currently online

© 2020 - RPG Playroom