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Author Topic: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling  (Read 4420 times)

CraterShip

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[5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« on: (20:51:19/06-25-16) »
And the Rain Keeps Falling

The storm started a week ago with a near flooding deluge. Sewer rats huddle in overstuffed storm drains where the detritus of the streets has been carried. Once trash-strewn streets now reflect neon lights off their wet surface. Despite the downpour, the streets remain active. People rush from one covered doorway to the next. Several young women pass by carrying clear umbrellas with LED lit handles, others appear downtrodden, the slumped shoulders and shuffling gate of obvious addicts appear unfazed by the storm.

The pulsing sounds of heavy bass are felt more than heard from the nightclub across the street. The volume spiking every time the doors open to allow more patrons. Massive trolls that could have been twins stand under the awning at the door, while hopeful partygoers huddle beside what little roof extends over the sidewalk. You received word from your fixer to meet here a couple hours earlier with the promise of work. You watch from across the street as a public transit bus drops off the dregs of society half a block away. The lights of the bus momentarily pierce the veil of rain before dimming once again as the bus pulls away from the curb. You step off the sidewalk to cross behind the bus, avoiding the splash from the tires and the potholes. You skip the line, to the dismay of the hopefuls, and produce the message from your fixer as instructed to the bouncers. The one on the left smiles knowingly through a mouthful of tusks after checking the scan. He nods to the other, who opens the door to you.

Inside your senses assaulted by the pounding bass rhythms, strobe lights, and a spiderís web of laser lights playing through manufactured fog. The dancefloor is packed with the scantily clad beautiful people of the world, their bodies surging and ebbing as the music shifts from one beat to another. The message said to wait inside, and you would be contacted when everyone was assembled.

OOC: You are welcome to RP your way as much as you would like through the entire scenario up to this point, and once everyone has posted they are inside the club, and settled, Iíll advance to the next post.

Herr Brackhaus

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #1 on: (08:41:36/06-28-16) »
Marcus sits in the drivers seat of the Thundercloud Morgan, staring out into the night but not really seeing, lost in thought as he is.

The week so far had been short on satisfaction; the acid rain had been worse than usual even before the dark clouds moved in and the storm began, the landlord of the apartment complex in Tacoma had threatened eviction unless payment for the month ahead was made in full, and worst of all was the fact that every lead on the mysterious Dr. Johannsen had washed out like dishwater down the drain.

"Three weeks chasing ghosts" Marcus thinks to himself as anger wells up inside of him to match the dark skies overhead. "Three weeks, and what do I have to show for all my effort? Nothing. No names, no company information; it's as if whoever was behind Echo Lake never existed." He slams the steering wheel of the all-terrain vehicle with a gloved fist in frustration, then takes a deep calming breath and lets it out slowly. "Well, they can't hide forever" he mumbles out loud as he reaches into a pocket and brings out an amber plastic bottle. The label read "Rize, benzodiazepine, 2-4 pills per day" and the prescription for the anti-depressants was made out to one Marcus Brennan. "Eddie gets to go to the club today, though, while Marcus stays home" he muses as he swallows one of the pills, then deposits the bottle back into his coat pocket.

The call from Striker had been short and to the point, as usual. "Arrive at location X by time Y, speak to Johnson Z. So obvious, so bourgeois, so boring. Why can't they ever just get on with it; why this ridiculous pretense of civility when everything agreed to at such meetings is anywhere from borderline to highly illegal." Eddie sighs as his keen eyes scans the line to the nightclub entrance looking for trouble while his practiced hands brings out the silenced Remington machine pistol holstered under his left shoulder. With a mental command he ejects the clip and visually inspects the 15 subsonic rounds it holds before sliding it back home, then checks that it was set to burst fire before engaging the safety. The shoulder holster holds two more clips under his right shoulder, one loaded with subsonic rounds and the other holding gel rounds containing a powerful mix of DMSO and Narcoject, aka a combat cocktail. "Trouble rarely starts at the first meet but it never hurts to be at least a little prepared" he reminds himself. He's left most of his gear in the smuggling compartment of the Morgan, however, well hidden and locked away until it is needed.

With another sigh and light grumble for the weather he brings up the AR interface of his Meta Link and sets it to broadcast the fake SIN belonging to one Edward Allen Marshall while simultaneously switching the Evotech Himitsu into silent running mode and disabling the Marcus Brennan SIN broadcast, making the identity change complete. As he steps out of the vehicle he made sure the pistol was snug in the concealed holster, then brings up the collar on his long coat and pulls his ball cap down low to protect his eyes and to keep the rain out of his face as much as possible. He sprints across the road just as a bus pulls away from the curb and flashes the line an apologetic grin as he makes his way past the bouncers by giving them MARKs on the invitation ARO he'd received earlier in the day.

The transition from outside to inside is jarring; the sounds of the storm and of the city streets are displaced by rythmic bass felt as much as heard, and the muggy humidity of the rain soaked streets is forced to make way to the heat of a throng of sweaty bodies dancing the night away. Eddie shakes off the rain as he makes his way past the coat check point and into the club interior, looking for signs of his employer and other team mates. Seeing neither he makes his way to the bar by pushing through the crowd, the feeling of bodies pressing up against his a dull reminder that he is alive, and orders a synthetic gin and tonic. With little else to do but wait he lets his eyes wander over the crowd using the massive mirror behind the bar to hide his activities.
« Last Edit: (07:36:39/07-06-16) by Herr Brackhaus »

rednblack

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #2 on: (11:09:58/06-28-16) »
Chaim slots the cab fare, sets his Ulysses coat to his favorite charcoal gray herringbone, and steps out.  Into the rain, into the neon glare of the tawdry AROs, and carefully stepping over the detritus that's collected near one of the sewer grates, he bypasses the line, and gives his coat a good shake as the bouncer approaches.  The door opens, and a wall of sound hits him in the gut, and as he produces his Renraku Sensei and reservation MARK, gives a curt nod to the trolls in the ill-fitting suits, and lets one hold the door for him as he enters.

"Have a good night now, sir," the one holding the door says absently.

Inside Chaim gives a quick of the main bar and dance floor.  Good night.  He'd guess it's about twenty metas over capacity already.  How is it I've never been here? he wonders smiling at a trio of young corp-type women oblivious to his presence.  Yeah, this place is alright.  He'd have to thank Eddie for keying him in on this job.  Speaking of which. . .

<<Anybody else here, or am I the first one at the prom?>> he whispers into his micro-transceiver, which is keyed into the team frequency. 

No sooner has he set off the comm that Chaim sees Eddie at the bar ordering a drink.  It's likely that the rest of the crew rode with him, sans Pale Horse, so they've got to be around here somewhere.  Chaim approaches from Eddie's rear, but there's no sneaking up on the heavily augmented B&E expert.  "Hoi, thought you'd be skulking around here somewhere," Eddie says.  "I can smell you from a mile away."

"More like the mirror gave away my approach,"
Chaim answers, tipping his head toward the large smoked glass that hangs behind the bar.  "Vodka press," he adds to the bartender who's just finishing up with Eddie's drink.

"Alright, so we gotta see the guy, and do the thing?  You think the J's already here, or do we have time for a little pleasure before business?" Chaim asks as the synth liquor and soda is pushed toward him.  "Cause I like this place."
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Herr Brackhaus

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #3 on: (11:52:04/06-28-16) »
Even dressed to the nines in an expensive looking suit, the clothes Chaim were wearing wasn't the only that set him apart in the crowd. He had a sort of raw magnetism about him that drew people in, and even Eddie had to admit to himself that the man was more than just a skilled negotiator.

Grinning over his gin and tonic as Chaim reasoned out how he'd been given away, he takes a sip before answering. "No idea on the J; my fixer didn't give me much to go on on this one, just the name and time. Apparently we'll be contacted once everyone's here, and since it's just you and me so far, omae, looks like you've got time to ply your trade. Speaking of which, how about letting me be your wingman some time soon? This isn't exactly my kind of environment, if you know what I mean."
« Last Edit: (07:22:31/07-06-16) by Herr Brackhaus »

rednblack

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #4 on: (14:22:54/06-28-16) »
"Drek, omae.  Tonight I'll be your wing man.  Just call me Lochos," Chaim says, a reference to the trid flick Valorous Sons, which depicted the PCC's aerial war against General Saito's forces in the CFS and the very close partnership between Lochos, and his squadron commander, Zeke.  Chaim turns around and rests his elbows on the bar as he surveys the scene.  The talent is out tonight, he thinks to himself as he scans over the crowd.  There's the Aztlaner contingent all done up in Zoť/Armantť that Chaim wouldn't approach for a Mitsubishi Nightsky, much less just to get a friend -- was Eddie a friend? -- introduced to some pretty girls.  Then there's the rowdy party girls, obviously out from U of W tonight to cut loose and kill enough brain cells to forget all that advanced polytechnics they'd no doubt been cramming for a midterm.  They had potential, though they'd no doubt drink their weight in those sickly green FAB bombs before the night was through.  One plus with the college girls, they might like a little bit of danger, and Eddie could provide that in spades.

The last group to catch his eye is the mixed-meta contingent.  Probably employed by EVO, or some subsidiary.  The elf in the pixie cut is probably just Eddie's style, and the ork woman knows how to dance, Chaim will give her that.  The other two are nursing their drinks a bit too slowly, checking their AROs a bit too often, so Chaim estimates they've got maybe fifteen minutes before they bounce.  "Well, Edward from accounting, ready the Arcon."

Chaim is about to cross the bar floor when the rest of the team materializes.
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Tecumseh

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #5 on: (17:01:01/06-28-16) »
Ichante sulks through the tunnels of the Ork Underground. Outside, it's raining. Underground, it's raining. The week of rain had saturated the earth, leaving the water nowhere else to go. The Underground didn't have proper drainage, so miniature rivers formed in the middle of tunnels. Ichante was not fond of water - except as part of strict grooming regimen - especially water that covered her ankles and sloshed into her boots. She levitates herself across the more ridiculous puddles that were more like little lakes.

Pale Horse must used to this but I'm not, she thinks to herself.

"Why did you move to Seattle?" Chaim had asked a while back. "Have you ever been through a Sioux winter?" she had answered. "Or a Sioux summer, for that matter."

That's why she lives underground: to get away from the weather. Seattle rarely got snow, and rarely got scalding hot. Thanks to thermal inertia, the Underground was a reliable 12 C year-round. Cool, but comfortable. She can live with that. It made things easy to spot with her thermal vision, if nothing else. When the world was cool, it was simple to see the devil rats.

Ichante lives near The Big Rhino, at Second & Seneca downtown. She longs to move to a larger unit near Lorstrugns, the luxury department store chain about eight blocks away. That way she could window shop all the time, even if Lordstrungs didn't carry much for petite dwarven women. She knows just what she wanted: The Ace of Coins! Black juggernaut hide with platinum thread stitching and solid gold accents. She aches for it, the juggernaut hide reminding her warmly of home, even if home was only ever stupid hot or crazy cold, never just warm. It would be so perfect for this club we're going to. But first I have to take care of this, what, almost forty grand of debt, she thinks to herself, rounding it up in a moment of self-pity.

She reaches the staircase leading up to an exit. There were a few stalls around the bottom of the staircase: an ork noodle lady, a Skraacha selling maps of the Underground and/or protection services that may or may not be optional. She stops by a dwarven tech and throws down •100 for the micro-transceiver that her team has been bugging her to replace. She plugs it in just in time to catch Chaim asking <<Anybody else here, or am I the first one at the prom?>> The signal is scratchy because she's still underground.

<<Untwist your knickers, I'll be right there>> she answers peevishly, still put out about the weather. She grits her teeth and goes up the stairs and out into the rain.

Why didn't I learn that barrier spell? she thinks to herself as she races across the street. Forget bullets; I need an umbrella.

Crossing the street, she looks around for Eddie's Thundercloud Morgan. It's an ATV that's ridiculous for city driving (unless you're in the Barrens) but on days like today it could actually be helpful for navigating flooded streets.

Ichante gets to the awning in front of the club and spends a full minute trying to correct her black hair. Pouting, she paws the water out of it while she studies the crowd lined up, waiting to get in. With some jealousy, she notes how much better dressed they are than she is. Her chemically-treated armor jacket keeps her safe and repels acid rain, but it would never be confused with high fashion. Yearning for the Ace of Coins grips her again as she flips the ARO invitation to the bouncer.

Clubs are not the best environment for dwarves, especially thin dwarves. Dancers and druggies and drunks are oblivious and dwarves getting knocked about is the default. She bypasses the coat check, knowing that she'll be bumped at least half a dozen times before she crosses the club. The armor jacket protects her from the bruises, but her pride still stings.

<<Alright, I'm here>> she says, switching to assensing to scan the crowd. Against her wishes, the aura of the crowd actually improves her mood. The happy revelry is infectious, especially on the astral, and she suddenly finds herself wanting a hit. She wasn't into Bliss or Zen. Novacoke should have been a good fit but she didn't have a taste for it. She liked Cram, but she was here to work, not dance or fight. Psyche would be fun, but I'm on a budget, she thinks. Grudgingly, she settled for a stick of betel chewing gum, staving off the craving for something stronger... for now, at least.

<<I've got you>> she says, spying the men by the bar. <<Watch your six: that Aztlaner with the pomade hair likes the look of one of you.>>
« Last Edit: (21:29:18/06-28-16) by Tecumseh »

gwilym

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #6 on: (17:14:16/06-28-16) »
good job the client liked slumming it, the last crash move had lost her her fancy dancing suit. smiling off the trolls advances (yer like I never get asked to smile, jeesh something original just once) her contacts danced in the flashing lights, "focus!" she told her self entrance exits flanks and tails. so a quick slack through the club using the creeps as fawning cover in the bath room (why do they always put curtains up in the ladies but never clean the toilets properly?) in to a stall and fiddle with the zip on her jacket count twenty fiddle again flush leave. so all ensconced she scanned the room more closely picking out the wolves and the lambs in detail this time trying to zero in on the client and the other assorted he'd gathered

Herr Brackhaus

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #7 on: (07:02:22/06-29-16) »
"Drek, omae.  Tonight I'll be your wing man. Just call me Lochos" Chaim says. The name stirs a memory in Eddie's mind, and suddenly he is back in the underground lab being lectured by a faceless doctor on the history of the California Free State. The monotonous, droning voice of the egghead is almost enough to put him to sleep, but inattentiveness earns black marks, and black marks earns punishment, and he remembers pulling himself up and forcing himself to pay attention.

The silent reverie ends as quickly as it began, and with a grin worthy of the sleaziest used car salesman in the Barrens he responds with a slight drawl. "Roger that, Lochos; I'll be Zeke then." He hopes they have enough time to at least score a few commcodes before the Mr Johnson and the others show up; there had been a few women in the lab but they had all treated him like a science project and not a human being. "Fraggers, the lot of 'em. Not like the women in the real world. Not like these women" he thinks as he looks around hungrily, eyes glittering as lightly clad bodies writhe to the music. He always seemed to trip over his words when one of them approached him, though, and he hadn't quite worked up the nerve to ask anyone out yet, but maybe with Chaim's help he could finally...

Eddie groans silently as he spots Ichante, the dwarf spellslinger, making her way through the crowd and getting pushed around for her efforts. Even with all of his superhuman abilities he still couldn't help but stare in awe at the woman, looking for visual signs of magic. "Hoi, wizzer" he says as the slim woman makes her way to the bar, trying to keep a casually respectful tone. "Don't want to slot off someone who can turn you to mush or set you on fire with just their mind, after all" he thinks to himself as he gets off his bar stool. "Wanna seat?" He sips his synth gin and tonic, aka sin-and-tonic, as he stands, scanning the crowd for signs of anyone else he recognized, then nods at Chaim. "Another time, eh, Captain?"
« Last Edit: (07:21:40/07-06-16) by Herr Brackhaus »

Tecumseh

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #8 on: (01:41:10/07-01-16) »
"Zeke?" Ichante asks, hearing the end of the exchange between Chaim and Eddie. "You know that's slang for 'vampire', right?" She looks around the bar and dance floor. A vampire could do worse for itself on a rainy night than a crowded club in Touristville, she thinks to herself, scanning the room on the astral to make sure there aren't any vampires around.

Herr Brackhaus

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #9 on: (15:16:39/07-02-16) »
Eddie looks around to see if anyone might have overheard Ichante's casual remark. Satisfied that everyone nearby was either high on life or drugs or both, he leans in close to the woman.

"Since when!? I ain't never heard of a vampire being referred to as a "Zeke", though I've come across terms like neck biters, haemophiles, leeches, and Renfields; of course, I never even met one so they're not exactly my area of specialty." He gives the dwarf a pointed look while sipping his drink before continuing in the same hushed tone.

"Besides, talking too loudly about the Infected these days could be bad for business, especially after the mess between McAllister and Fear The Dark, not to mention de Vries showing his true colours during that event." His eyes shines with intensity for a moment, and when he continues in a louder, lecturing voice he seems to have forgotten his own admonishment.

"Anyway, the reference was to Zeke and Lochos, the famous CFS pilots, not the unholy spawn of creatures like Vlad Tapish and Erzebet Bathory, twisted by HMHVV as they are. Who knew legends could just step right out of the history books and..." He trails off into silence and leans on the bar, seemingly lost in deep thought.
« Last Edit: (07:17:40/07-06-16) by Herr Brackhaus »

Tecumseh

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #10 on: (17:57:02/07-02-16) »
"Since when!?

"I guess you have to be in the know," Ichante shrugs, demonstrating her magical ability to be catty and overconfident about things she knows relatively little about. She fails to suppress an eye roll when Eddie trots out the "legends stepping right out" cliche that was fresh 60 years ago. Eddie wasn't an elf or a dwarf, so unless someone stuck his round ears in a deep cryogenic freeze back in 1999 then he's got no excuse to be pretending like the 'legends' haven't been real for his entire life.

She studies Eddie's aura. It was both accurate and inaccurate to call it 'unnatural'. The nature of his implants made him look like a bit of a Frankenstein's monster on the astral. The pieces didn't look inhuman, but nor did they look exactly like the rest of Eddie either.

"So," she says, turning to Chaim and picking a drink up off the bar that isn't hers,"do you come here often?" She bats her eyelashes playfully, switching from apathetic to flirty as quickly as only a cat shaman can.

CraterShip

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #11 on: (23:14:21/07-02-16) »
As the group converses over the pros and cons of nicknames for vampires, a young elven woman approaches. She moves with the practiced grace of a dancer, managing to avoid being jostled by any of the crowd. Her skin tight bodysuit offers varying degrees of opacity, leaving little to the imagination. Neon lights adorn her necklace, bracelets, and hair, pulled up into a pair of dark pigtails. She bounces to a stop at the bar next to you, pauses to blow a gum bubble, and announces that Mr. J. is ready to see you. She turns to go, trailing overly tailored pheromone scents.

The runners are led first to a back room, then outside to a dark alley, and finally to an empty warehouse building adjacent to the club. In the short stint outside, you manage to avoid most of the dark rain, but the soggy cardboard smell tells you the boxes here have not fared so well. The warehouse is dark, except for a single florescent overhead lamp over a long table. A man in an expensive suit sits, smoking, at the table. Against a stack of boxes stands one other person, he wears a white Ulysses greatcoat. The man at the desk offers you a seat at his table.

Herr Brackhaus

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #12 on: (00:36:48/07-03-16) »
With a shrug to his companions followed by a slow, lingering look from the woman's heels all the way to her head, Eddie trails the woman closely as she turns. With some effort he manages to keep his eyes off of her swaying hips and on the surroundings instead, his mind subconsciously filtering out distractions and allowing him to focus on the details. Taking it all in, he is nonetheless surprised when they are lead into the street and towards a warehouse.

"What the..." He looks for signs that might hold information about the structure as he walks with his head held high, ignoring the rain as his keen eyes seeks out every shadowy corner and angles visible to the human eye.

"I've got a bad feeling about this already" he thinks to himself as the group enters the cavernous, dark interior. With some relief he notices only two people inside, one at a table in an expensive suit and the other in a greatcoat of some fashionable cut or another.

With another shrug to his companions he takes a chair at the table, ensuring that the holstered machine pistol hangs with a clean path for drawing, just in case. As he waits for Chain or the well dressed man to speak, he looks closely at both of the men in front of him, eagerly searching for clues that might reveal anything about their identities.
« Last Edit: (07:15:52/07-06-16) by Herr Brackhaus »

Tecumseh

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #13 on: (01:01:33/07-03-16) »
Ichante watches the young elven woman approach. She hates her. Ichante is not particularly graceful or elegant for a follower of Cat. Ichante hates the woman's grace, her bodysuit, and her youthful exuberance with the bubble gum. Ichante snaps her betel gum in response, silently wondering if she could casually touch the woman to covertly cask physical mask. It might be good for her to walk around as an ork for an hour or two, Ichante thinks to herself. If the night were young and Ichante wasn't on the clock, she might do so, but it's a school night and Ichante needs to be professional.

Walking outside is annoying, but at least the rain helps suppress some of the elven woman's pheromones. I wonder whose balls she bounces up and down on, Ichante thinks sourly, wondering if that ridiculous dress would look any good on her.

Ichante manages to avoid rolling her eyes when she enters the warehouse. The theatricality of the dark room with only a single lamp is utterly absurd to her. This J has to be a breeder, she thinks to herself. For elves and orks, it might as well be full daylight in here. It's not like anything can hide in the dark from a dwarf or a troll either. She wonders if this job came via Striker or Suzette, the team's two primary fixers, either of which is competent enough to forward at least high-level dossiers to the Johnson that would presumably indicate that the team can see in the dark.

She accepts the offered seat while scanning the room on the astral. She sends a mental note to her spirit to stay outside unless called for.

<<@Team [Ichante] I smell money. Pretty girls with bioware are awfully expensive to be messengers. Men with expensive suits. The man against the boxes is wearing Mortimer of London. Either a Greatcoat or a Ulysses coat, I don't know. Men's fashion isn't my specialty. Either way, custom fit only: not available off the shelf. Three grand minimum. I don't recognize the cut of the suit of the man at the desk but it probably costs more than a suit made out of credsticks. Anyway, Chaim, no discount for these gonks.>>

She stays quiet and lets Chaim take the lead.
« Last Edit: (01:06:17/07-03-16) by Tecumseh »

rednblack

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Re: [5e IC] And The Rain Keeps Falling
« Reply #14 on: (11:35:04/07-04-16) »
<<I've got you>> she says, spying the men by the bar. <<Watch your six: that Aztlaner with the pomade hair likes the look of one of you.>>

<<haha. Chaim answers deadpan, but still checks his six anyway.  Ichante takes an empty seat at the bar and the talk turns briefly to vampires, which is well outside of Chaim's wheelhouse, but when Eddie mentions Elizabeth Bathory, his ears prick up.  Bathory, that might just be a hell of a handle for when I'm running in dresses and heels.  I like the ring of that. 

"So," she says, turning to Chaim and picking a drink up off the bar that isn't hers,"do you come here often?" She bats her eyelashes playfully, switching from apathetic to flirty as quickly as only a cat shaman can.

Chaim scoots an empty glass that hasn't been pulled back behind the bar yet over to the place where Ichante had purloined her drink.  That crazy halfer will get herself into all sorts of trouble without some adult supervision.

"Can't say as I have.  But I heard there was going to be a dwarf girl here tonight pretty enough for a man to make some really bad decisions."

"Well,"
Ichante answers with a flash of her eyes.

"Can't say I'm disappointed."  It's a weak line, but Ichante seems to appreciate it.  Eddie, of course, rolls his eyes, and gives Chaim a tap on the leg with his foot as a woman in a body suit approaches to take them to the meet.

The crew makes the trek through a back room, then into an alley, and finally into a warehouse where the Johnson waits under a single fluorescent light, seated at a table.  Chaim appreciates the theatricality almost as much as he appreciates the man's suit.  Chaim approaches with a "May I?" before pulling out a chair for Ichante and taking a seat himself. 

"Mr. Johnson, I presume.  I am Brasa.  My associates and I are under the impression that you have some business opportunities that you'd like to discuss?  We're all ears."
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