[Saturday, 207505111846L]
The Seattle Opera House is an impressive structure, with architecture that suggests solid, old stonework, while maintaining a modern touch. It isn't the original structure that was on Mercer Street, just a few blocks down, it was moved perhaps forty or fifty years ago to it's current location.
Tonight, the Opera is busy, so many of Seattle's well-to-do are in attendance, it almost eases your paranoia of walking into a trap.
@ Kachina
As Kachina walks up the stairs towards the will call, an ARO pops up in the corner of her vision, indicating a message. It looks like it's from Manny. She thumbs her commlink and the message reads across the display in her contacts, providing her with its contents while she keeps moving.
>>>>>[Hey, lovely. I looked into those names for you. None of them are in my immediate circles, but I was able to suss out the important bits. All of them have been steady worker bees in your line of work. Nothing really good... or more importantly: bad... to set them apart. But it's probably a good thing I haven't heard of em, means they've kept their heads down. Looks like someone's putting something together, then? Man... busy night. Good luck, chica.]<<<<<
@ Mother
It feels nice to be out, actually, dressed to impress and standing with Seattle's elite and fitting right in. Well, mostly fitting right in. In a hundred years, there's been progress... and attention shifts... but bigotry will never fade away and a few stares her way indicate where it still lives.
A message from Terr0r leaves her without any more knowledge than she already had, the commlink that sent the message never popped up again. They were able to get advance warning on the seating. Turns out whomever had arranged this was able to pull some strings. A first tier box, right in front, stage left. It didn't get any better.
Standing in the front for a few moments, she shifts her gaze to the Astral. A few awakened individuals in the crowd, and some cyberware, but nothing stands out. If there are any magical protections here, they are well hidden.
@ Kumiha
Getting into the public host is easy, it invites a MARK and he's in. Finding the schedules and general layout are easy. Looking it over, he can see that it contains everything except the backstage areas and the basement. It doesn't take much to access the backend of the host and find those items as well.
At least if it goes sour, he knows all of the ways out.
Afterwards, he dresses up and makes his way to the theater.
@ Tanya
As she sits, the curtain behind her pulls aside as a distinguished looking gentleman steps in. He's wearing an exquisitely fitted Mortimer Berwick, a choice that shows taste but lacks the showy extravagance of Zoe's Heritage line. Tanya estimates that he is in his fifties or low sixties. He has allowed his hair to gray and it is short. A small amount of product holds it impeccably in place. His neatly trimmed mustache and beard are also streaked with gray. Noticing Tanya, he offers a smile that completes the picture. He extends his right hand, his palm facing slightly upward.
"Lady Marisart?" he asks, as he takes her hand in his, covering it then with his left hand in a gesture of both warmth and familiarity. "I appreciate your efforts in arranging our gathering this evening. I am James, it is my genuine pleasure to meet you."
@ All
Tickets were easy. The name granted at will-call earned you a pass into the theater's large interior. There were no scans or checks, which indicates an expectation that credentials might not have been provided, had the attendant asked.
Inside the grand foyer, the elegant interior showed class and nuyen, lots of nuyen.
Now, it was time to find your seats. For some, as easy as calling up the floor plan. For others, ushers stood at every doorway, waiting to show you to your box. Box 1B...
