[Tecumseh]

Knucks looks at the dwarf's proffered hand and considers it for an extended moment that might be long enough to be considered rude, but Knucks is immune to such social embarrassment. The dwarf is wearing a suit, which is throwing off Knucks' expectations, but underneath Knucks can see a body hardended by martial arts and physical exertion. He respects that, and the dwarf has an honorable, unright air about him that lures Knucks in.

Knucks shakes the dwarf's hand vigorously, not trying to hurt the dwarf but trying to size up his forearms and biceps. "Damn straight, Knucks it is. Chum, you had me fooled with that suit, but you're hard beneath ain't you? You lift? Deeee-rek, I bet you can bench a hundo, what, 25, 30 reps? Nah, wait. What with those short arms I bet your force factor is off the charts. Work equals force times distance, yeah? I bet you slam that hundo 35, 40 reps! Me, I can bang out high 50s, low 60s, but I'm stuck with these long arm orks, neh? What's your max?" Knucks takes to the dwarf enthusiastically.

The stringy elf doesn't get the same warm reception. Knucks eyes him warily. The face tattoo was fine, maybe even wiz. Knucks had a geometric tat around his left bicep that was no longer very symmetrical due to the constant growth of his muscles. "Not much meat on your bones for a street fight, neh?" he says while shaking the elf's hand, his inner monologue losing out to his gift for social improprieties. "Null persp, though. Anyone can do the one-kilo curls." He mimes drawing pistols and blasting away with both hands.

"I don't know the 'techs'," he says. "New to me, maybe new to the scene altogether if they stepping to the Chuys. You ain't thinking they technos, are you? I donn wanna wake up in the morning thinking I'm a giant cockroach."

[Zweiblumen]

A drone covered with the Patxi's Pizza decals and AR Ads comes over the building and hovers for a moment.  You can feel the heat as it finishes cooking the soy-eez and krill-chovy pizza.  Two pizza boxes opens up and the pies are ejected from the oven into each of them.  The machine expertly folds them shut and then finishes it's descent to street level leaving the pizzas on the corner before moving on to the next delivery.  The young girl bolts for the boxes and brings them back.  "Dat was super wiz!  Never seen nutin' like dat befo'.  You get that regular like?"  She says as she juggles a piping hot slice of the krill-chovy.

When Uffington asks about where the Technoids territory is, she rolls her eyes like it's the stupidest thing she's ever heard.  Between mouthfuls of fake cheese and fake fish on presumably fake bread she says, "Dey hang up da hill over dere."  With a nod of her head towards the old neighborhood of Potrero Hill.  When pressed for a few more details, she grabs a couple of slices of the plain soy-eez to see if it's as good and says, "Over on Mizurra Ave by de old rec center.  D'I really get ta keep alla dis?"

[Tecumseh]

Knucks shamelessly helps himself to two slices of the krill-chovy pizza. The human in him knows that it's disgusting, but the ork he wants to be is drawn to strong flavors. If Uffington gives him a dirty look, he doesn't notice. That the strong eat first is the law of the streets. Besides, Expo had offered.

"Jíst á být sílná séstrá. Zé bójé," he says to the woman in Or'zet, encouraging to gain strength for the struggle. Presumably the struggle that orks face in their day-to-day existence, but who knows.

He surveys the terrain, talking while the woman is distracted with the meal. His cyberears easily pick up the noise from the freeway just to the west. He chews on his second piece of pizza, muttering something to himself about there being no way to "avoid the 'noid."

"No sense in talking them out of it in advance," he says. "We'd have to step to their turf. That's strike one. Then we'd be laying down warnings on their turf, strike two. Maybe if we had three dozen that'd be one thing, but just the three of us? Strike three. Nah, they in motion now. Only thing we can do is be the wall they slam into." He punches his fists together with an explosive CRACK for emphasis. "Just like combat biking. We're the Scorpion; they're the Scoot."

[badneighbor]

Knucks shakes the dwarf's hand vigorously, not trying to hurt the dwarf but trying to size up his forearms and biceps. "Damn straight, Knucks it is. Chum, you had me fooled with that suit, but you're hard beneath ain't you? You lift? Deeee-rek, I bet you can bench a hundo, what, 25, 30 reps? Nah, wait. What with those short arms I bet your force factor is off the charts. Work equals force times distance, yeah? I bet you slam that hundo 35, 40 reps! Me, I can bang out high 50s, low 60s, but I'm stuck with these long arm orks, neh? What's your max?" Knucks takes to the dwarf enthusiastically.

Three or four times during the ork’s excitement, Expo attempts to respond, get a word in, but he quickly decides it would be better to close his mouth, smile, and focus on keeping his shoulder from being dislocated by the handshake. He applies his Aikido training and loosens his muscles, allowing his arm to move naturally with the violent motion rather than against it. The result, he hopes, is not so much a noodle-arm, but more like the sensation of the tide rolling in and out.

When the storm subsides, Expo takes his hand back and shakes it out a little in an attempt to return sensation to his fingers. His friendly smile doesn’t waver. “Sounds like you know your stuff, omae. Maybe once this is over we can trade some tips, hm?”

The pizza drone arrives just in time, returning everyone’s attention to the task at hand, and their informant.

 

"Dey hang up da hill over dere."  With a nod of her head towards the old neighborhood of Potrero Hill.  When pressed for a few more details, she grabs a couple of slices of the plain soy-eez to see if it's as good and says, "Over on Mizurra Ave by de old rec center.  D'I really get ta keep alla dis?"

“Yeah, it’s all yours, kid. Thanks for your help.”

Knucks shamelessly helps himself to two slices of the krill-chovy pizza. The human in him knows that it's disgusting, but the ork he wants to be is drawn to strong flavors. If Uffington gives him a dirty look, he doesn't notice. That the strong eat first is the law of the streets. Besides, Expo had offered.

"Jíst á být sílná séstrá. Zé bójé," he says to the woman in Or'zet, encouraging to gain strength for the struggle. Presumably the struggle that orks face in their day-to-day existence, but who knows.

Expo watches Knucks grab a couple slices of the girls’ pizza and opens his mouth to object before remembering that he’d offered him some, back when he thought it was another squatter. He decides not to interrupt, as the orks seem to be communicating well. Plus, the guy seems excitable and Expo isn’t interested in finding out what happens if he’s told he can’t do something. He glances at Uffington, feeling a little bad he told the scrawny elf he couldn’t have some too. Fella looks like he could use a decent meal, he thinks.

"No sense in talking them out of it in advance," he says. "We'd have to step to their turf. That's strike one. Then we'd be laying down warnings on their turf, strike two. Maybe if we had three dozen that'd be one thing, but just the three of us? Strike three. Nah, they in motion now. Only thing we can do is be the wall they slam into." He punches his fists together with an explosive CRACK for emphasis. "Just like combat biking. We're the Scorpion; they're the Scoot."

Expo shakes his head. “Can’t have that,” he says. “Not here, anyway. Doesn’t matter if they’re fighting the Chulos, us, or each other. Gotta keep it off this street.”

He starts walking down the sidewalk a bit, hands in his coat pockets, mouth twisted in thought. He motions with his head for the other two to come with. Let the girl eat in peace.

“Got a few options, probably. Maybe we can talk them into hitting the Chulos at their base? Or convince them the Chuys are coming straight to them. If we give one side an edge, the fight’ll be over quicker.”

He’s thinking about his Aikido training again. Redirect. Hit ‘em where they ain’t.

“Who’s more likely to win? Who’s better for the neighborhood? Just a matter of backing the right horse.”

He glances at his commlink again. Still no reply from Scrivens. Useless fragger.

[rednblack]

"Not much meat on your bones for a street fight, neh?" he says while shaking the elf's hand, his inner monologue losing out to his gift for social improprieties. "Null persp, though. Anyone can do the one-kilo curls." He mimes drawing pistols and blasting away with both hands.

Uffington pulls back his hand reflexively.  "Nah, I ain't the biggest.  Can be plenty fast when I wantabe doe.  Maybe I can speed you up a little too, wiz?  Don't go much in for guns neither.  Make me nervous, at least in my own hands  Nasty things, firearms.  Got a crossbow back at the spot, does plenty good for me.

When the pizza arrives, he tries not to look at it too longingly.  Typical ork, though, Knucks dives right in.  Oh well, he probably needs it keep those arms swinging.  Besides, there would probably be some food at the gallery later, and he doubts Marianna would dare to turn him away.  Uffington is relieved when the dwarf indicates that it's time to go.  The ork girl was plenty helpful, but he'd rather not discuss business in front of someone so eager to talk.

“Got a few options, probably. Maybe we can talk them into hitting the Chulos at their base? Or convince them the Chuys are coming straight to them. If we give one side an edge, the fight’ll be over quicker.”

He’s thinking about his Aikido training again. Redirect. Hit ‘em where they ain’t.

“Who’s more likely to win? Who’s better for the neighborhood? Just a matter of backing the right horse.”

"Agreed," Uffington says.  "I'm not keen on getting involved in a turf struggle, but I can check out Potrero Hill from the astral and get a lay of the land, maybe identify a mover or shaker or two."  After the morning's failed forays into assensing, Uffington wonders if he's overselling his skills.  "If nothing else, perhaps I could make them more amiable to your suggestions, Expo."  Is that the word I'm looking for?  "Amiable," or is it "amendable"?  Frag, I shoulda payed more attention in school.

"Anyway, if it's gotta go down, maybe we can make it go down sooner.  Or later, I dunno."

[Zweiblumen]

Uffington sees the pizza being eaten by others and his stomach growls a little in protest.  He'll have to eat later, but for right now it's heavy on his mind.  He's less familiar with this side of the city and the names that the street kid offered don't mean much to him.

As they walk down the street Expo thinks about what he knows of the area.  What the girl described is probably the abandoned Recreation Center near the park up the hill on Missouri Ave.  The area under the highway overpass is still full on barrens slums and that's between them and the park.

Knucks starts thinking about the rumors he's heard since he got here about the different gangs and remembers hearing about these kids, oldest is maybe 15 or 16 years old, up on a hill taking over some park and trying to make something of themselves.  That combined with what the urchin just told them sounds like the group.  He continues to chew on his last slice of pizza as they are walking away and thinks some more on the Chulos.  They are an larger and more organized group.  Nothin' like the Ancients up in Seattle, but their local presence is much stronger.  There are rumors they've ties to the Resistance in the '60s.  Either the Technoids had some kind of ace up their sleeve, or they where going to be in a world of hurt for stepping on Chulos' territory.

[Tecumseh]

Knucks looks around, piecing together what he's been hearing with what he knows about the streets. The benzodiazepines have him thoughtful and contemplative, while the Paxtis has him contended and comfortable.

Streets are streets, with laws and relationships that change names but not locations.

"Look here, see," Knucks says once Uffington and Expo have separated from the girl. "I'm guessing you two chums haven't come up on the streets like yours truly. I ain't from around here but I've heard about these Technoids from some chip-head elves who were getting lit down in Butchertown. The leader is a pimply-faced kid named WizKid. Fancies himself a decker but that's just a rumor. One would think that a decker would prefer to be at home slicing ice than out pounding the streets with a guns getting stuck in his face, right? Seems like better nuyen in hacking too, neh? Word is he's got 15-20 younger kids following his lead, pushing chips. Fits with the Technoid theme I guess. Maybe the WizKid is some runaway corp brat with daddy's deck, delusions of grandeur, and and no parental oversight. Like that story with all those kids and no adults, right? Whatsit called..." He snaps a few times to jog his memory. "Charlie Brown!"

Knucks paces a bit more, walking while he holds court.

"So they're pushing chips and rumors have it that they are trying to get a bit into the protection game, but nobody is taking them seriously, probably on account of their youth. Maybe they decided to off a Chuy for turf, or maybe for respect. Street kids like this, they're already in the gutter; they're not risking a lot, you know? But at the same time, they're coming pretty far downhill, like literal. Six blocks is a big grab in dense city. Now you got the freeway tween here and there and that ain't great turf - just yer usual bums and breeders, I'm guessing - but one wonders what's pushing them down the hill. Maybe it's like the Huns chasing the Vandals, pushing the Vandals onta Rome. You wouldn't think they'd do that on their own, but maybe they got no choice in the matter.

"So the 'noids are pushing chips and looking for new turf. The Chuys are famous for chems coming up outta Aztlan. Speaking from experience, there ain't a lot of cross-selling in those markets, scan? Chipheads are chipheads and druggies are druggies. Take Ma and Pa Knucks for example. Da dehydrated to death on a BTL bender while Ma's heart stopped on Bliss. Same high but different source, and I'm pretty sure they never swapped or traded.

"So it seems to me that we got a potential marriage o convenience on our hands here. The Chuys often use third parties to do their pushing. So maybe all dis is da start of a be-au-tiful chummership, neh? There is the matter of the dead Chuy tho. They'll need a wergild for that."

He stops and looks to Expo and Uffington. He then wonders if he has accidentally talked himself out of a big awesome street brawl. He shakes his head and tries not to dwell on it.

"What the frag am I talking about? It was Peter Pan, not Charlie Brown. Twinkle-toed motherfragger brainwashing kids for his island Neverland. That's the one I was looking for."

[rednblack]

Knucks looks around, piecing together what he's been hearing with what he knows about the streets. The benzodiazepines have him thoughtful and contemplative, while the Paxtis has him contended and comfortable.

Streets are streets, with laws and relationships that change names but not locations.

"Look here, see," Knucks says once Uffington and Expo have separated from the girl. "I'm guessing you two chums haven't come up on the streets like yours truly.

Uffington scoffs at the perceived slight.  "Yeah, I ain't from 'round here either, but maybe you should stick to what you know, scan?  Ever hear of a little sprawl called Puyallup, up Seattle way?  Dat's where I cut my teeth, and a few other hoops when there was call for it."

He listens to the rest of Knucks monologue with greater interest.  The ork really knows these streets.  Damn, chummer has his nose to the ground something fierce.  Of course, some of the bigger words fly over his head, but he does his best to follow along, though he wonders if "wergild" is some new type of infected he hasn't heard of before, and really hopes they won't have to tangle with any dual-natured heavy-hitters.  It'd make hiding himself that much more difficult should it come to blows.

"So, you thinkin' maybe we play da go-between on some sorta peace process?  Just side-step the whole deal?  Dat could work.  Hell, maybe we even get a little side piece.  Whaddya think, Ex?"

[Tecumseh]

Knucks raises an eyebrow at Uffington. "You cut your teeth on a few hoops?" he asks, more with surprise at the admission than revulsion or disgust. He shrugs. "Guess it's an elf thing. Always thought it was Humanis bulldrek. That must be why you came to San Francisco, neh?"

Hope that 'side piece' he's talking about ain't one of those street kids.

He looks to Expo to see what the dwarf is thinking.

[badneighbor]

Expo examines the surroundings thoughtfully as he listens to the exchange between the elf and the ork. He pushes away nagging thoughts of what he’s probably missing up in the gallery showroom right now. Instead, here he is, bribing homeless with food and learning about gang politics. Anything to make some cred, he supposed. With a mental sigh of resignation, he jumped back into the discussion before the other two got into a brawl over whose neighborhood was tougher.

“I’m not real fond of tryin’ to talk them into a partnership,”   he finally says. “Seems that ship has sailed, yeah? If the Technoids got something to prove, they’re probably gonna view a negotiating table as a sign of weakness on their part.”

He glances up at the other two, then shrugs.

“Though I could be wrong about that. You guys’d probably scan that sorta thing better than me.”

He hums a little, thinking it over.

“Best thing might be to convince the Technoids to hit the Chulos somewhere else. Somewhere they won’t expect it. I never understood this whole ‘shootout at high noon’ thing anyway. Buncha drek, telling the enemy where and how you’re gonna hit ‘em. Goes against everything I know about how to fight. ”

He kicks a loose piece of the curb free and watches as it skips down the cracked pavement.

“We just gotta convince ‘em they have a better chance of winning if they change tactics. Though in the end I guess it doesn’t matter if they win or not. Not to me, anyway. I just want ‘em off this street, yeah?”

[Zweiblumen]

As Expo kicks the loose concrete down the run down road his 'link pings him.  An AR window pops up in his periphery letting him know he's got a message from Micky.

<<<@Émeric [Micky] Oi chummer!  Haven't heard form you in a while.  "827 Tennessee" is down in the old Dogpatch.  Someone open a gallery over in the Barrens already?  Didn't know that area was gettin 'trified.  Them breeders'll try anything won't they?  Last I heard that was Chulos' turf.  I've not heard of anyone steppin' in a while.  They've still get a lot of street cred from their help during the occupation.  You got the jing, I can get you a ping if you know what I mean.>>>

[Tecumseh]

Knucks studies Expo, wondering how street kids would consider the sturdy dwarf. On one hand, suit meant corper, which meant rich squishy fatcat. On the other hand, the dwarf was obviously hard underneath the threads. Still, it'd be tough for short stuff here to fend off a dozen desperate street kids, he thinks to himself.

"I don't think the 'ship has sailed'," Knucks says. "Not for sure anyway. Gangers are whatchu call them 'rational actors'.

"Depends on the situation, neh? If the Chuys are most concerned about face, they'll delete the 'noids no matter what. But if the Chuys see the loss of a corner kid as the 'cost of doing business' then they'll let it slide if that's what's necessary to secure a business deal, or a fat payday.

"The real question is what's the bug up the butt of the 'noids. Why they rolling downhill? They either desperate or they figure they got some edge, something giving them the stones to get hard with the Chuys.

Knucks looks up at the old rec center, shading his eyes from the sun setting behind Potrero Hill.

"I say we go find out, one way or t'other. Mind you, might require a costume change." He tugs on his white tank top, indicating that Expo's suit might not be prudent.

He turns to the elf. "How do you read it, Uff? I know Puyallup is all riches and glitzes - I seen it on the trid - but streets is streets."

[rednblack]

Uffington can't tell if Knucks assessment of the Puyallup is way off-base, or just delivered with deadpan humor, and delivered with the respect of one street rat to another.  He decides to roll with it, "Yeah, omae, all indoor swimming pools and real apples round there.  We usedta have Damien Knight over for dinner on Sundays.  And yeah, I think we can give it a shot with the 'noids.  Not much for us to do around here at the moment anyway, neh?  Only, what's our angle in this?  I mean, why do they wanna listen to us anyway, and what do we have to gain by seeing to their truce?  Or we gonna play it like we's sent from the other group?  I'm just saying, back home if some chummers hadn't been seen before stop by and say they wanna make sure this beef we had with, I dunno whoever, went smooth I don't think I'd a bought that."

"Anyway, if y'all want I can get my meat body back to the gallery and check out the 'noids in the astral space.  At least get us numbers, and maybe some other intel, like that weregild thing, or whatever."

[Tecumseh]

"Yeah, let's roll back," Knucks says, slowly pivoting toward the gallery. "If we're climbing the hill I gotta get my climbing gear." He tugs his tank top again, hinting that the thin synthetic material might not be suitable for gliding through gangland.

[badneighbor]

Expo checks his commlink, makes a face, and fires a quick message back to Mick:

<<<@Micky[Émeric] Yeah it's real fancy down here now, Omae. I got a showing tonight, I'm insulted you didn't know. Anyway, I got word the Chulos are gonna scrap tonight with some new group of kids called the Technoids. Ever heard of em? Think you could find out the Chulo's side of things? What they know about these kids, why they don't like em? Maybe, what it would take for them to negotiate a peace? I got an interest in stopping the fight>>>

He returns his attention to his new friends, "Yeah, if we're gonna waltz into gangland we should probably get ready, let Uff have a look around for us first. Let's head back to the gallery. I'll meet you there."