[Jack_Spade]

Isaint tilted his head for a moment, then replied: "Just reserved a private conference room."
Turning to Deckard he said: "So you still have the Mirage? Normally I'd say I race you there, but while on the job I try to commit only one illegal act at a time."

[adamu]

Al had timed his greeting of the Princess poorly, as she'd been approached by two googly-eyed bar staff at the very moment he offered her his hand. Which annoyed him, since he'd been quite pleased with his little rhyme and now it was wasted.

He turned his attention to Robyn, then looked down his nose skeptically at the huge affront to nature. The monstrosity could almost look him straight in the eye. But, glancing at Robyn's ears, he realized anything wrong with the animal would have to be seen as equally wrong with her. And Isaint. And Jackhammer. So now he was more annoyed because he hated when he was forced to call his own assumptions into question.

He shrugged in resignation. "Yeah, ya don't wanna ride inna perfectly good van, my Beamer's parked across the street." The response was non-commital, almost a sigh, though she could see the corner of a smile on his face at the same time. "First, though, I ain't yet been but passingly introduced. Maybe you'd like to present ol' Al ta yer lady friend."

At which point he realized he hadn't graced the munchkin with so much as a nod, and made a mental note to be wary of the Princess's power to distract.

[BrickyardBabe]

Iris watched, amused. Once her questions were answered she mostly withdrew from the conversation, letting others with better heads for business handle the particulars. She was here as an arcanist and something of a face, naught else. Instead, she considered, what sort of spirits would be useful, how many, how much. Would she need a large supply of drams or could she buy them Below without issue, how many toxic and shadow sites were between here and there, and all the other questions an illegal combat mage faced on a run like this one.

Drek. This was almost certainly some kind of trap.

But a well-paying, rather prestigious one.

But also highly lethal.

Drek.

Iris gave a mental shrug. Nothing to be done about it now. She returned to her inventory and planning. She would have to get with Deckard at some point to figure out what tools they had in common, where they could pool their resources versus where they couldn't, and whether their traditions would interact badly. She broke off that line of thought as the rest of the team began to stir and rise, getting ready to move. She caught "The King's Head" and nodded agreeably. Good soybeer there.

At Al's words Iris' eyes hardened, but she pasted a smile on her sculpted features, at least appearing to be pleased and gregarious. It wasn't that she disliked Al. Far from it, in fact, he seemed to be a source of crusty, irascible good cheer. But Iris was still smarting over Robyn's reaction to him, and then her mealy-mouthed defense of it. Iris was not looking forward to rescuing her friend and protegé only to tell her about Robyn and Al. But all that was just behind her eyes, and it would take a startling judge of character- and one capable of reading very subtle facial cues- to see it. She had a great deal of practice putting on false faces, and the only person here who knew her from a hole in the ground didn't have the sensor acuity to read her eyes. So she smiled and she held out her hand to Al, the handshake of a compatriot rather than the curtsy of a young woman. "Iris. Mage, healer, teacher, occasional liar and confidence girl."

[adamu]

Of all the people in the room, Al was the least startling judge of character and most incapable of reading subtle facial cues. He liked her self-description, and told her so. "Now that's a hell of an introduction, senorita, an' I am very pleased ta make yer acquaintance." His voice was like a bullfrog's, but if the bullfrog had throat cancer. "I have known members of all those perfessions, but never in one and the same person. A renaissance woman to be sure. An' how is it you know, er, Robyn here?"

She'd always be Alyce to him, but he figured she might have changed it for a reason so for the time being he'd better stick with what she was going by now.

[Mercy Merchant]

Robyn was opening her mouth to make the introductions when Iris took care of the issue herself.  She had come to depend on Iris for a number of things while searching for Calista and has to respect her.  She was never close and kept a professional distance, but there was something different now.  The tone of her message certainly meant that she disapproved of Robyn having any sort of relationship outside of pining for her vampire lover.  Well, Robyn would have to cross that bridge when she came to it.  Robyn's own gut was all twisted every time she thought of what might have happened to Calista and she was all too aware that there might be problems.  But it has been almost a year since Calista walked out of Pax's clinic and simply disappeared.  Not one word, not one clue.  The woman was a killing machine and it stood to reason that there would have been something noticed by someone if there had been a fight to capture her.  Sadly, the most obvious situation is that Calista just disappeared on her own.  But a year is a long time to be in hiding without at least one fragging hint or even a sniff of a hint.  Robyn had lived through that eight years ago and was now reliving that same anguish every day  If Al was still loyal to the other woman, she will understand and simply be glad that he is safe.  But if he is now free.......................

Robyn call her inside drone to her and slips it back into one of the pockets of her dress and walks quietly to the door as the small group starts to break up.  Stepping outside, she feels the rain on her face and looks up at the sky, as if to will her dead eyes to see something.  Nothing, as usual.  No miracle from God.  She unfolds her umbrella and steps to the side to let the others go past as she waits for Al.  The hound at her side turns his head from side to side, seeking out any danger to his mistress.

[BrickyardBabe]

That tightening of the eyes came again, more obvious this time, and Iris glanced neutrally at Robyn's back as she stepped outside. Turning back to Al, Iris said, "We worked a missing persons case together for several months." Iris decided not to tell Al of anything relating to Calista beyond safe, neutral details. No mention that she was infected, no mention of her relationship with Robyn. Robyn could do that herself, if she was so inclined. It wasn't any of Iris' business, and she wasn't going to prejudice Al. Not for Robyn's sake, but for his. She shrugged one delicate shoulder and took a deep breath, fully conscious of the effect it would have on her decollétage, then let it out slowly and smiled a small, sad smile. "It was, unfortunately, a dismal failure. The case is still open, but it leads Below. I have some small hope that new information may emerge in the course of this 'run, but no intention of pursuing it while 'on the clock.'"

Exhaling softly through her nose and schooling her face back into its pretty, pleasant expression, Iris motioned toward the door and remarked, "I believe your lady fair is waiting for you." Then, damning herself for every syllable, Iris added, " This isn't exactly the jungles of Cambodia, but I'm sure she would be happy to have you as a guide again. She spoke...very highly of you."

At the same time as she was talking, Iris composed a fast matrix message to Robyn, this one in Robyn's code. >>I told him we worked a missing persons case together. No names, no details, no mention of a relationship. Best of luck with him.<<

[adamu]

Al grinned and shrugged. "Most folks do."

He lit a new cigarette. "Sorry ta hear 'bout yer case. Onna trid they find people all the time that's been missin' fer years an' years, so I reckon ya still got a good chance o' findin' 'im."

There was something about this one that made him want to just keep on talking to her and watching her breathe. But a few more pleasantries later she was heading for her car and Al was leading Alyce and her beast across the street to his. It was a nice enough mid-range sports job, but also possibly the dirtiest vehicle in London. He opened her door and tossed a month's worth of fast food containers and beer cans into the back, put the passenger seat forward and motioned the animal into the freshly piled garbage, then helped Alyce into the car as she smoothly closed her umbrella. She managed to duck in without jarring her little hat, and even kept the petticoats at her front decent, if only by a hair's breadth.

Then Al was walking around to the driver's door, bracing for whatever came next.

[Csjarrat]

Halfpint brought up the rear as everyone mosied out of the meet and out onto the street,
Anyone riding wi' me head this way, see you down there if not.
He swung a right and headed to the car park, drizzle collecting on his jacket and running in small seams down towards his boots.
Pinging the vehicle with an AR command, the engine fired up and the A/C barked into life before he'd opened the door and climbed up the aftermarket steps for "shorter" metas like himself.
The AR interface for the van had been set to a nice warm orange and he felt the glow around his hands as he established a control link and grasped the virtual sticks in front of him, easing the big girl out of the parking space and down the ramp to the street

[adamu]

Robyn remained outside in the rain until Al came out.  The message from Iris had surprised her, mostly for its cordiality.  She quickly sends a note back.  >>Thank you, Iris.  I am not going to lead him or Calista on.  No lies.<<
 
When Al appears, Robyn makes a soft clicking sound and the Hell Hound rises from the sidewalk and walks with her across the street to Al's car.  She puts weight on her cane to help walk.  Al makes some space for both of them and she folds her umbrella and climbs in after the massive hound moves to occupy the rear seat.  She shakes her umbrella off outside before putting it in the car with her and shutting the door.  The smells of old, stale fast food, beer, and cigarettes are pervasive and she smiles to herself as she sits back in the seat.  Al is apparently in no mood for chit chat so she sits quietly for the first two blocks.  Then, without turning her head, she says, "No lies, Al.  Not for you."  She pauses to gather her courage, fishing a pack of Lucky Strikes from a pocket and taking two out, offering one to Al.  Replacing the pack she draws a large Zippo lighter from another pocket and lights first hers then his before putting it back.  She takes a few drags then says, "That missing person is my lover.  The name she gave me to call her is Calista, although I know of several others.  I met her about a year ago now at a social function we both attended.  Something clicked between us and we ended up in bed.  It was all perfect for about a month, then she disappeared.  Just vanished.  It was unlike her and I followed her to the Containment Zone and then to Below.  She had been kidnapped by House Valerian and they were torturing her.  In my best quixotic fashion I offered to give myself if they would release her.  They agreed and I was tortured to almost death.  Calista rescued me and took me to a doctor there who patched me up, physically at least.  My body was repaired, but my implants were now drek and she took me to another place for them to be repaired and replaced.  I was in surgery and recovering for weeks.  When I was as good as Dicer could make me they told me that Calista had disappeared right after dropping me off.  Several weeks missing.  Iris is another of Calista's friends and she helped me try to find her.  Classical critical failure so far.  Not one hint or clue.  Just nothing.  We used up tons of contacts and I called in every favor I could.  Still nothing."
 
"Like you.  Just fragging like you.  I went back to Cambodia after dropping that fragging artifact off with Ling Tse Tau's grandfather.  I wanted to tell you how foolish I had been.  To tell you that I loved you and that.........well, lots of things.  But you were gone.  I asked all over the city, even hired a couple of hard men to be my escorts and went to every river bar, dive, and drug den I could find. Nothing.  I put money out to every resource I could think of.  You keep nothing wireless, but I tried anyway, just in case.  I sent queries out to every shipping company I could find.  Nothing.  Some information would come across my desk every year or so and I would catch a plane to some port or city, wherever the clue was, but it was always a false lead.  You remember that beater 'link I bought in Andoung Tuek?  It is in a drawer at home, tied to only one comm code; the one I gave you in the note I left you.  I look at it almost every day to see if it is still working.  It is set to forward to me the only call it can ever accept.  So far, it has never rang."
 
Tears are falling unchecked as she continues, "I know that you had another woman you were staying loyal to and refused to be the person to come between you.  Maybe you are still tied.  If so, just tell me to push off and I will not bother you.  But I want you to know how I feel, just in case you are now available.  And I also want you to know that things in my life are complicated right now.  You walking into that diner brought back so many memories.  I...................I..................I want you, Al.  Plain and simple.  I love you.  I love Calista, too, and there will be some anguish when I find her.  But I am a big girl and will work through these things."
 
Robyn stubs out her cigarette in the overfull ashtray and turns her tear streaked face to Al.  "Here is where you say something.  Anything.  Or perhaps nothing.  If this is too much, just stop the car and Al and I will get out and catch a cab.  I am sorry if I have spoken out of place, but I wasted eight years of my life because I did not say something back then and I do not want to waste more.  I need you to know how I feel, even if you are not in a position to feel the same."

[adamu]

Al had started out driving fast, and the more she talked the faster he drove.

He took in every word, and it might have caught his heart in his chest, but it was flooding in too fast.

It was the whispered confession in his ear times a hundred.

And now she smoked his brand. Lit them with a Zippo just like his own. Her damn hellhound's name was his. It was creepy and he knew it. Told himself to remember it the next time she touched him. Or whispered in his ear. But he doubted he would.

By the time she was done filling his mind with more than he could process in a week, he had reached the Ram's Head, pulled a bootlegger's turn, and drifted sideways across the wet asphalt into an otherwise impossible parking space.

He sat and finished his cigarette, feeling her silent pleas for him to speak, but saying nothing. He got out of the car, and with no space between his car and the one in front, vaulted the hood of his BMW. Opened her door and offered his hand. There was no way he could talk to her about anything resembling his feelings right now. But he reckoned he could state some facts. Kept hold of her hand once she'd stood, held it there in the rain for a few moments, not letting the beast out yet.

"Back then, inna jungle. They warn't no other woman then." He took her umbrella from her lace-gloved hand and opened it over her, handed it to her. "And they ain't been nary a one since, neither."

Then he turned on his heel and walked away from her into the pub.

She could do what she liked with the dog.

[BrickyardBabe]

Iris had actually left before Al and Robyn- or Alyce, apparently- by virtue of a good parking spot and not having to sweep a month's stale detritus into the back seat of her car, then make room for an old flame and her pet hellhound. She did not, however, break the speed limit as flagrantly or masterfully as Al did, so he beat her to the pub that Isaint had suggested, but only just. She parked out front, a sure invitation to steal her car- if one wanted to commit any number of ways of artful suicide- took one look at Robyn as she exited the drekked-up BMW and retrieved her "dog" and then turned to follow Al inside.

Iris didn't waste time looking around. She'd seen where the pub was, what the street outside looked like, and made her own conclusions. It was a step up from Angel's, certainly, a dive that was meant to be a dive rather than being bloody seedy. She followed Al toward the bar, a sensible choice if ever there was one, and slid onto a stool with a rippling undulation of calves, hips, abs, and shoulders, that ended in a toss of her bright golden hair.

"That is not the face of a happy man." Iris opined lightly without looking at Al. She raised a hand to the bartender. "Scotch. Two, and none of that fragging well drek either." She glanced to her left and winced. "Better make them both doubles." Then she swiveled on her barstool and in a velvety half-whisper that bore only concern to the casual listener asked, "Hey, sweetie, are you going to be alright?"

[obidancer]

"So you still have the Mirage? Normally I'd say I race you there, but while on the job I try to commit only one illegal act at a time."[/color]

I wouldn't race you even if one of your tire was flat. I love danger, but even a crazy dude like me knows a lost cause.

Deckard adjust his goggles back on his face and entered the destination into his 'link. His bike was modified to override the gridlink, the one thing he liked about gridlink: it was safe! The bike almost pilot itself to the destination, Deckard only balancing and counter balancing his body during sharper turns. He used the garage belonging to the pub, so his bike would hopefully dry and stay this way, and get a mediocrum of security.

Making his way to the pub, as everyone was arriving, he spot Iris ordering drinks for herself and... Al? As he passed by to head to the private room, she said

"Hey, sweetie, are you going to be alright?"

That was obviously not directed at Deckard, but as he casually walked by he answered.
I'll be just fine sweetheart. 'Just a small bruise.

And he continued toward the room.

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint looked on as his new team mates filed out from this dump. To his great relieve he found his bike and the car where he had left them and even more without blood or the smell of cordite in the air.
<<Arthur: City protocol, follow and observe. Susi: Drop stealth, Wrapper two, full defense and observe>>

Isaint got on his bike and sped along as fast as the dense city traffic allowed. He didn't try to engage Rick while he drove. The man had changed since the last time he saw him. Somehow he seemed to be hollow and brittle - he would have to discretely ask about that topic.
Neither had he missed the fact that Al had seemingly managed to find an ex-girlfriend and her new friend. Even if Isaint had known any advice for Al, he'd rather have stuck his hand in boiling oil than tried to navigate such an emotional minefield.

Jackhammer seemed to be even more frustrated than the last time they had seen each other. Amazingly that left only him and the gnome for harmless chit-chat. But than, the drive wasn't that long anyway. Better to concentrate on the road in this weather.

The King's Head appeared on his HUD and Isaint made sure that the parking garage across had some spots free on the ground floor.
He only sighed when he saw the ridiculous rates those guys asked for parking a mere 30 minutes. 'Business expenses, just don't forget the receipt'.

Taking of the helmet, he debated with himself if he should bring Arthur but decided against. He didn't want to remove the FBA and it always paid to have your gear guarded - even here in a relative secure part of the city.

Once done, he crossed the street and entered the pub. "We booked the Green Drawing room. Party of seven."
"Up the stairs and to the left", came the reply. Isaint followed the directions and found a cozy looking room with a low ceiling, small windows and a genuine wooden floor that had to be at least one and a half century old.
Having not eaten previously during his meditations, he now felt ravenous. With a quick gesture he activated the AR menu and ordered the famous Shep'n'Ale combo before occupying the seat at the head of the table.
While waiting that the others arrived, he turned to Deckard:
"Say mate, you do look a bit subdued. That bruise... you aren't having any family trouble, do you?"


#246

[adamu]

Al's silence was deafening.  And crushing.  She waited as he opened her door and helped her out of the car into the rain.  When he does speak, the words are like a spear thrust directly into her heart.  She barely notices when he turns abruptly and walks away from her.  Her umbrella and cane fall from numb fingers and she turns her unseeing face to the sky, letting the rain wash her tears away as she wordlessly asks an unhearing God "Why?"  Sinking to her knees in the pouring rain, Alyce's mutated brain goes over every aspect of that trip to Cambodia and relives every misstep she made.  Every mistake.  A bit of warmth nuzzles against her face and she put her arms around the Hell Hound standing near her.  "At least one of my Al's loves me, doesn't he?"  Alyce feels about in the mud for her cane and umbrella and works her way to a standing position, folding the umbrella and slipping it under her arm.
 
She faces the pub and takes a moment to clear her mind.  She has been rejected before, for any number of flaws.  This one has hurt the most.  Ever.  But she can get over it.  Strangely enough, even though Al has turned away from her, she knows that she would do it all again.  He might not want her, but she realizes with a calm certainty that she still loves him.  She will always love him.  She will not push the issue, as he has made his point clear enough, but her heart will harbor more than enough love anyway.  Straightening, she calls Al and walks to the pub with her head high, the cane only slightly needed to help with her limp.  She knows that she is a valuable asset to the team and will not let this get in the way.  She is a professional.  By the time she reaches the sidewalk, the rain has washed most of the mud away.  She releases little Sasha to park at the awning over the doorway and observe the comings and goings at the entrance.  The man just inside the door starts to say something about the dog, but stops when she flashes the card indicating that he is a licensed service animal.
 
As she uses her enhanced senses, she releases Misha to keep track of things inside the building.  She turns to the doorman and mentions that she is expected at a private meeting and the man looks her up and down, obviously thinking he knows just exactly what she is there for, but the hound at her side stops the words from forming.  He escorts her to the room and opens the door for her.  Her ears pick out the voices of those who have already arrived and she walks carefully to join them after silently commanding Misha to park outside the room.  When some fall silent at her approach, she says, "Sorry about my appearance.  Umbrellas are not made like they used to be, I guess.  I will try to get my money back for this one.  As it is, I am soaked to the skin, so should probably sit at the far end of the table from the rest of you so I do not get everyone wet.  My apologies, for sure."  Saying this, Alyce moves to the next table over and takes a seat, Al taking up a spot on the floor next to her.

[Csjarrat]

Halfpint had enjoyed the ride alone, he gathered his thoughts about "the below". He'd not been entirely honest about his experience with it, and he'd hoped no-one was going to question him, he was a shit liar.
He guided the big van into a tiny spot, ultrasound parking sensors blaring in protest, before jumping down from the cab into a puddle and cursing at his wet trousers. He tried to shake off the worst as he crossed the street, waving in thanks at a generous old bird who'd let him run across.
The doorman eyed him warily as he hurried behind the last of the others and said the immortal lines "I'm with them", feeling like an underage drinker trying to sneak into a club all over again.
Al and Alyce seemed distant, wrapped up in their own thoughts, probably fearing what lay ahead as Halfpint figured they probably all would be doing right now. He hopped up onto a bar stool, still only shoulder height up to the bar and tried to get the bartender's attention.
Half an IPA please mate, Stick it on the tab for the private room upstairs would ya?