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[5e IC] Storm Force Whisper [2076 Game Thread]

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obidancer

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« Reply #45 on: <03-01-17/0032:57> »
The Vampire Hunter Persona scratched his head, a little embarrassed. He never had much attachment to Nuyens but between his rent and the debt to the Russian he was trying to pay off, Deckard had little money left to spare.
I love the idea guys but I haven't work much these past two month, and, well, some obligations brought me low on cash. I can spare 10k maybe, if that'd help.

His Companions disappeared one after the other. He turned to Robyn's persona before she, too, disappeared. Let's get in touch in the real world. Maybe we can catch a ride together to Seattle. So long.
And he disconnected. Virtual Games were not his things that much.

Seattle. Home. It had been quite some years since he had left the Emerald City. But that was were he grew up. Where he'd been taught the art of the shadows. Where he became a Mage. It was only going to be a short stop, but he was happy for it.

But first, he had to make sure he was ready to do his part in the Run. Having a Water Elemental at hand could always be useful in an arkoblock, or EVO's equivalent, eventhough they may actually never get wet. But he was going to leave his Magic Lodge behind, and now was the time.

He messaged Robyn. >>I'm going to need a day to get ready. I'm certainly gonna book a late flight for tomorrow. Would be happy to have the pleasure of your company. If not, see you in Seattle.<<
He didn't bother messaging Al and ISaint. The big boys knew what they were doing. And Al's distinct scent was not necessary one you'd want for too long next to you, in a confined space.

The Chaos Mage gather a good amount of reagents, filled up a big bowl of water that he placed at the center of his Lodge. He continued with the preparation for several hours...

[spoiler]Summon Water Elemental F8: 18d6t5 4
Summon Water Elemental F8 Resistance: 8d6t5 1
Bind Water Elemental F8: 18d6t5 6
Bind Water Elemental F8 Edge Reroll: 12d6t5 4
Bind Water Elemental F8 Resistance: 16d6t5 4
Bind Water Elemental F8 Drain DV8: 15d6t5 8
Bounded Water Elemental with 9 services
[/spoiler]



Rick Deckard - Circles of Fate
Kachina - Shaking the Shadows

Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #46 on: <03-01-17/0043:10> »
The battle-armoured commando nods to Rick and grins.  "Indeed, I would enjoy riding with you.  I can arrange tickets and meet you at Heathrow.  I will send the departure time to your 'link and I hope that you do not mind riding in First with me."

Captain Krait has already tasked an assistant to contact Stephanie and arrange transport to Seattle for two and is now poised at the open bay door of the plummeting drop ship.  She checks his log and sees that there are some bounties she can collect here and gives a wolfish smile.  She checks the special sidearm and the combat knives at her hips and takes the power gun off her back.  With little warning, Captain Krait leaps into space and begins a rapid descent to the surface below.  Her suit has many improvements over the original and she activates several at once, including a small parachute that slows her speed a bit while keeping her a small target, no that she is really worried; the radar scattering armour and noise dampeners virtually guarantee that she will not be detected until it is too late. 

The landing zone is far from clear and she comes in hot, cutting down a number of minions of the drug lord based in the area.  Of course, these are just the starters and the difference between her experience and theirs makes the initial onslaught a slaughter.  The trek to the drug lord is brutal and some of the higher grade minions actually give her a challenge in solo mode.  At the last clearing, she gathers her strength and pops a couple of fist aid kits to heal the little damage she has taken so far and begins the boss fight.  The last of the minions falls and the drug lord attacks her.  They never learn. 

Finished, Robyn signs out of the game after having her kills verified and her experience compiled.  The battle had been risky and fun.  One day she was going to do that one time too many and lose Captain Krait.  But that day was not today and she parks him in his healing cubicle and logs off. 

it is time to pack an overnighter, but Stephanie and Mae will already be on that.  She sends her agent out to lay in medical supplies in Seattle and have them waiting at the airport for pick up.  It is good to be on again.
"Speech"  *Thought*  <Matrix>

Jack_Spade

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« Reply #47 on: <03-04-17/1505:04> »
[Friday September 11th, 2076; Heathrow Airport]

Isaint hated squeaky wheeled luggage. Especially if they were pulled agonizingly slowly by an elderly pair in front of him in the queue who were endlessly complaining about their feet, their families, their various ailments, their feet and the lack of respect these days. The damned thing also looked much to big for the overhead compartment. In contrast, he carried only his sleek armor briefcase, containing not much more than a bit of clothes, hygiene products and a few ration bars. All his restricted items he had packed in a secure crate, double checked that he had the necessary permissions to import them into Seattle, filled out a seemingly endless questionnaire, documented each and every part and finally paid a small fortune to send it express to the warehouse MacDuff's contact owned and who according to MacDuff was "a very reliable business partner". Alfred Schwarz was a quarter master at Fort Lewis and specialized on buying and selling surplus army gear on the side.
Hopefully that was true, or he would have to break into a military compound to get his gear back.

The pair cleared the way for him to board, only for Isaint to realize that the pair was seated next to him. So he waited another endless minutes to see them failing to get their stupid piece of luggage stowed in the much to small overhead compartment. When he finally was able to get to his seat (the offending luggage now was being unpacked) he immediately went into his meditation, slowing his breathing and heartbeat and allowing him to ignore the cramped environment and the insufferable travel companions.

'God, Al really needs to buy that plane asap. If necessary I'll pay for the whole thing myself. Life is to short to travel commercial...'
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Revenant Kynos Isaint Rex

Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #48 on: <03-05-17/0259:02> »
[Friday September 11th, 2076; Heathrow Airport]


Robyn had hired a speedy helicopter to get her to Heathrow from her estate on the Cornish coast.  The Hughes Stallion WK-4 made quite an impact when it flew in over the village to land at the manor and whisk Robyn off to London..  Robyn sat back in the luxurious passenger compartment and thought about the trip ahead of her.  Of course, Stephanie had wanted to pack several trunks, but Robyn's will had proven to be the stronger and she had eventually departed with one hanging garment bag and a small overnighter with.  She is dressed in a conservative dove grey suit with a skirt length a comfortable and stylish two inches above the knee,  The blouse is a light cream in color and she wears it with only the top two buttons undone, allowing the barest amount of lace to be observed, and that only if she is not wearing the smart jacket that goes with the skirt.  Of course, the outfit is completely outfitted with the latest in add-ons such as protections against electricity discharges, fire, and chemical exposure.  The latest YNT Softweave materials had made it possible to add more that the usual options to the outfit.  The Big Game Hunter clothing in the garment bag were custom made and fitted to provide similar protections where the skirt and blouse would seem out of place. 

At heathrow, Robyn bid farewell to the two person crew of the helicopter and deplaned, where she was met by a car and driver, who took her to the British Airways VIP lounge in the main terminal.  After checking in, she placed the bags in a tall locker and sat, waiting for Rick's arrival.  Twenty minutes after she been served a steaming cup of Earl Grey, she hears his voice at the information kiosk as he asks for her.  She rises and walks to meet her travelling companion and brings him back to the table.  Snacks and drinks are provided gratis to the people waiting here and the two share some small talk while waiting for their flight to be announced.  There is a small utility electric vehicle to take them to their boarding gate and the two are ensconced in luxury accommodations for the flight over the pond.  While sipping champagne, Robyn looks at Rick from over her tall flute of the amber liquid and says, "I have been to Seattle a couple of times, but only as a pass-through to another destination.  I know that Al has spent some time there, but have you?"
"Speech"  *Thought*  <Matrix>

adamu

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« Reply #49 on: <03-05-17/0734:24> »
[Thursday September 10th, 2076; Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, Seattle Metroplex]

With first class customs expedited, Mordecai had barely shown up at arrivals when Al came through the gate, As they got onto the road, Al congratulated himself on the time. Three hours from workshop floor to Gatwick plus four-hour flight then the nine-hours gained for travelling west and he was boots on the ground in Seattle two hours before the meet had ever taken place. In a manner of speaking.

He was tempted to head south into Puyallup's Hell's Kitchen, check on his snakes, say hi to the hippies, get his own truck. But he wanted to use his head start to have all in readiness with the plane before his co-workers arrived the next day. The funds they'd seconded him were burning a hole in his pocket. He'd never purchased an aircraft before, but how hard could it be?

When, in that ridiculous game, he had said he knew a guy in Seattle from whom he could be a suitable aircraft, that also had been in a manner of speaking. Perhaps if his meat's desperate nausea had left him inclined towards a more nuanced conversation, he might have said he knew of a guy in Seattle. Or he knew a guy in Seattle who knew said guy in Seattle. In either case, the result would be the same.

"Alrighty, Mordecai baby, tell ol' Al 'bout this friend o' yours."


obidancer

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« Reply #50 on: <03-05-17/1156:12> »
A light rain started, as Deckard entered the limo Robyn had sent for him.  He sat comfortably in the luxury vehicle and adjust his glasses, proud of his decision to tag along with the blind decker. He usually couldn't care less about money and luxury; nuyen were used for his thirst of knowledge in the magical arts, not some fancy dinning at London's most exclusive restaurant. But as he appreciated Chaos, he loved the irony of the situation... he was shamelessly broke again yet travelling in an opulent way, well above his mean. After sending Al the 10k Nuyens he had promised, Deckard's account only showed a couple thousand Nuyens to his name. For a Mage of his caliber, it was pretty terrible; people were willing to pay a small fortune for his talents.

But Deckard didn't care. He had spent the last two months studying, entertaining his connections, and making sure everything was set to survive the next month, just like his parents had taught him. The son of two Runners, he had learnt soon enough of the darkness and uncertainty of life in the Shadows and this world in general. Next month, everything could be different.  His last job was the proof: you wake up one day and the world his destroyed by a horde of Horrors form some hellish Metaplanes. Unless a group of Runners decided it was not gonna happen. Proudly enough, he was part of that group. Reassuringly enough, he was on his way to meet with the rest of that group.

Deckard had found quality people. Crazy for sure, but people whom he would trust and for whom he would risk his life. People worth making sure next month was there for them. He was looking forward to show ISaint his new magical talents, to hear Al call him names, to find out if there was anything a blind elf couldn't do. He was looking forward to meet his friends.

He arrived at Heathrow Airport and was unfamiliar with the level of services and courtesy he was receiving thanks to Robyn's VIP ticket she provided him. In less than 20min he had passed regular and Astral Security, had his two sustaining foci approved for travel, and had been respectfully called a 'Sir' at least five times. His bag checked, he was then ushered to the BT Lounge where the beautiful Robyn was enjoying a cup of tea. 

He knew she knew he was approaching. He kept wondering how many sensors and electronic equipment was in her head. She was a woman full of surprise, and a great asset to the team.  He grabbed and kissed her hand. Ma'am, what a pleasure to meet you again. Very, very, very deep inside him a slight feeling of guilt tried to spur. He knew what he was doing when asking Robyn to travel together. He was using her and her generosity. But a comforting pat from an invisible Raven's wing reminded him of his own nature. Heck with the guilt, this was good!

The two started to small talk for a bit, sharing what the two had been up to those last two months. Champagne was served.
Quote
"I have been to Seattle a couple of times, but only as a pass-through to another destination.  I know that Al has spent some time there, but have you?"

Have I? Seattle is home, darling. I grew up there. I survived its treachery and embraced its Shadows. A lovely city. Human's lifespan wouldn't be enough to find out about all it's secret. Elves... I still doubt it. But I can tell you this. It quickly grows on you. The only reason I left was to be with a gorgeous London Technomancer.  Go wonder what life throws at you...

He chugged his glass of champagne, ignoring the 'gentlemen and women' etiquette. So, speaking of... you and Al... what's the deal?
Rick Deckard - Circles of Fate
Kachina - Shaking the Shadows

Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #51 on: <03-05-17/1444:01> »
Robyn's sensors tell her that Rick as certainly dressed the part of a first class traveler and she can smell the after shave on his face from when he had applied it this morning.  The two talk for some time about the past two months and she tells him that she had bought a new cottage down in Cornwall. "You should come see it, sometime.  Perhaps after the current mission?  You are always welcome there.  Here, let me give you the address."  She sends a quick post to Rick, then continues. "Afraid that the really best way to get there is by train and I would definitely recommend the express as the local makes a lot of stops.  Things are still a mess, but my PA should have everything worked out by the time I get home."

"As for me and Al, we are just friends while we are working.  After that, well, let's just say it is too early to be posting banns or anything.  I take it one day at a time and am gloriously happy to have every day I get.  How about you?"
"Speech"  *Thought*  <Matrix>

Jack_Spade

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« Reply #52 on: <03-05-17/1640:54> »
Isaint left his meditative state when the plane had stopped on the runway and the other passengers were already standing up to retrieve their belongings. 'Lucky that you learned that contortionist trick or you wouldn't be able to get out of this small seat at all.'
Once again he was forced to wait for the elderly pair to get their horrible squeaky luggage. He still enjoyed the serenity of the meditation and waited until the main part of the passengers had left the plane.
Nodding and smiling at the stewardess he left towards the customs - but not before visiting the toilets. His metabolic control had stopped his bladder from filling up, but nonetheless his facial features had returned to their normal state. So he used the mirror to correct that issue and formed once again the face of his main identity.

He could already smell the famous Seattle air - one part acid rain and two parts sea smells. The customs officer took his time examining his brief case and seemed not particularly convinced when Isaint replied "Pleasure" to the customary customs question.
The tracking information for his gear told him, that it had already been delivered to Fort Lewis. He quickly sent a message to the team that he had arrived safe and sound before leaving the airport with a taxi.
What he now needed was a hotel room with a hot shower and maybe a beer, followed by something to eat...
talk think matrix

To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield
Revenant Kynos Isaint Rex

adamu

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« Reply #53 on: <03-05-17/1749:39> »
[Thursday September 10th, 2076; Hat Island, Salish waters, of coast of Snohomish, Seattle Metroplex]

"Time enough to run down his particulars on the flight up," Mordecai had answered. Mordecai's truck had been parked in the red zone at the arrivals pick-up, and he'd been eager to get clear. But once they were in the cab, rather than head out of the airport he drove through some service gates and around to a heliport. "I told this guy what you told me, that you had a cash budget of two-hundred-and-fifty-kay. Had to swear you were for real. That sort of purchase comes with a whole different sales pitch than buying a new Toyota Gopher, right?" They pulled out onto the tarmac where a Hughes Palomino - basically a limousine with a rotor on top - was just revving up. As Al grabbed his gun case and his garbage bag of personal stuff, Mordecai looked at him doubtfully. "You do have that kind of cred to spend, right?"

"Heh, worried about an awkward social situation, compadre?"

"Fuck that. Worried about my rep, turns out I pulled this guy's chain."

"Not ta fret. This guy's got what he said he's got, then ol' Al's got the green, baby."

An attendant in a long-sleeved white blouse, black necktie, and matching black micro-miniskirt helped strap them into seats that were unmistakeably real leather. The interior of the cabin was eerily quiet as they took off, enough that Al was hankering to look at the schematics for the sound baffles. After the woman had offered champagne but come back from the bar with beers, Mordecai laid it out.

"Winslow Flannery. This guy's basically legit, sort of a sales agent, hooks wealthy clients up with rare or specialty aircraft. Has himself a niche clientele, since he's licensed to deal in both the UCAS and the Salish lands, and has access to wholesale from Boeing, Northrup, and so forth. Operates off Hat Island, which is in a bit of a gray spot jurisdiction-wise, which allows him to deal with folks like yourself as well. He's real careful about it though. I had to tell him nothing you buy'll be used for anything illegal anywhere in the Pacific Northwest. That's what you said, right?"

"That's what I said," confirmed Al.

"Well, I know you're too stupid to be scared of anyone - hell, the damned Eye-ties still keep eyes on my place, you ever come back. But screw this guy and it's my ass, right?"

"Wouldn't do that, amigo. Reckon ya know that."

"Well, I don't doubt your intentions, just your wisdom. No offense."

"None taken."

The flight was thirty minutes, running the length of the metroplex north from Sea-Tac. They landed on a cement pad outside a sprawling glass residence with views of forested shore of Whidbey Island and the grassy southern tip of Camano Island to the north, both in Salish hands, and the Snohomish coastline of the Metroplex, and beyond that the Cascades. It reminded Al of just how beseiged Seattle really was.

From the air, they saw that beyond the house's extensive gardens was a marina housing half a dozen boats, and a number of large hangars further along on the water. They were too big to feasibly have been built all of wood, but their exteriors were done in the style of native longhouses, and as such they did not detract from the stunning views the house had in every direction.

They went down the steps from the helicopter and man was standing alone just beyond the rotor wash, full head of hair ruffling slightly. They approached to find a man obviously of Native American descent, clad in a grey leisure suit and silk tie. By the time they reached him, the Palomino had flown off.

He extended a hand. "I'm Winslow Flannery. But please call me Dukwibal. It's a pretentious name, that of a creation deity dear to the Skykomish people. But it is the name my parents gave me, and here on my island I prefer it to the Westernized name I use for dealing with the corps. And you must be Mr. Guthrie."

A scarred hand entered his and shook it firmly. "Jist Al, baby. Jist Al. Name my folks gave me, right?"

The man smiled. 


obidancer

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« Reply #54 on: <03-05-17/1913:01> »
Quote
"As for me and Al, we are just friends while we are working.  After that, well, let's just say it is too early to be posting banns or anything.  I take it one day at a time and am gloriously happy to have every day I get.  How about you?"
Deckard didn't lose a second
Well, Al and I are still on the get to know each other, you know... barely met the guy, but it'll remain very platonic, no worries...
The two exchanged a laughter, and Deckard continued.
I tell you what though, the man is the most powerful Adept I've had the chance to assense. More powerful than me, more powerful than the mighty ISaint. The sad thing about it is he seems to not really know that, or care for that matter. He's a very unique man, indeed. One with a world changing Destiny, I can feel it. So stay close to him, whatever your feeling for each others are.
He was going to make a joke about how love is blind, but caught himself in time before being very inappropriate.

Anyway, I wish the best for the two of you. You certainly deserved it. Deckard didn't remember how much Robyn knew about his defunct wife Cara, but he preferred to simply skip the subject. I've been wearing those glasses lately, kind of give me that scholar / smart guy kind of look. It's pretty bad ass with the ladies and the lenses automatically adjust the ambient light, looking forward to test it where we're going, you know. Oh and I grew my sideburns a bit. He took her hand and let her touch his cheek. What do you think?

« Last Edit: <03-05-17/1926:33> by obidancer »
Rick Deckard - Circles of Fate
Kachina - Shaking the Shadows

Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #55 on: <03-05-17/2342:47> »
Robyn lets her hand remain against Rick's face a bit longer than necessary.  "Thank you, Rick.  I will remember your words.  I have met and slept with many great and amazing men in my life."  He moves his face in surprise. "Oh, yes.  I am completely unashamed of my past, or my present, for that matter.  I have been on expeditions all over the world, mostly in wilderness areas like jungles or mountain forests.  Some of the places have been so wild there are natives that have never seen other people.  I have seen more awakened plants and animals that the encyclopedia has listed, and I have many friends and associates scattered about the globe that are as comfortable in those settings as I am.  But until I met you three, I never really knew what being part of a team is.  I mean a real team.  Out in the wilderness, everyone has to trust everyone else to have their back, but with you three, I KNOW you have me covered.  So I am quite glad that you have accepted me into your little clique.  I know it must have been hard to not laugh at the blind Keeb trying to play with the big boys, so thank you for giving me that chance."

The flight across the Atlantic was pure luxury.  The seats contained individual entertainment consoles and were programmed with the latest trivid releases, music, and video games.  Robyn looked at the choices and smiled at her companion.  "Hey, Rick?  Not blowing my own horn or anything and I have no idea if you are interested in that sort of thing, but check out the classical selection, instrumentals section, about seven selections down.  The title is "Robyn Lysander does the Cello Classics" It was one of my better recordings.  I think I will go listen to myself for a bit." Robyn slipped some headphones on and jacked into the system before selection her own music to listen to.  Sitting back, she smiles and lets her attention wander. 

They are interrupted by a very attractive flight attendant coming by with menus for the meals they will be eating while on the plane.  Robyn selects Thai and Cambodian dishes and is not disappointed when the food arrives.  After a great meal and some more small talk with Rick, Robyn goes to the loo and changes into the airline-supplied nightware and returns to her seat, pushing the buttons that lay it horizontal and turn it into a bed.  Several hours of sleep later she is awakened to be told that breakfast will be served in an hour.  She stretches and goes to the bathroom to change into her suit again and brush her teeth.  While eating, a polite male attendant comes by to let them know that there has been a problem with their connecting flight and their three hour layover in New York would have to be stretched until the following afternoon.  The airline would of course make arrangements for the passengers stranded in New York by putting them up in one of the five-star hotels near the airport.  Rick, Robyn, and three other first class passengers are given a list of hotels to select from. 

Robyn scans the AR list and leans over to place a hand on her friend's arm. "Hey, Rick, the Waldorf reopened a few years ago after several years of renovations and is supposed to be one of the best hotels in the world.  I say give it a shot, what do you think?" She pauses.  "I could be comfortable with only one room if you are.  It is completely your call."
"Speech"  *Thought*  <Matrix>

adamu

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« Reply #56 on: <03-06-17/0758:16> »
[Thursday September 10th, 2076; Hat Island, Salish waters, of coast of Snohomish, Seattle Metroplex]

Dukwibal walked with Al and Mordecai toward the house, but not inside. It was a sunny fall day and as he led them around to the north face of the residence they found a luncheon buffet. A number of people were dining in the garden - several children, minded by young women; two older ladies at a small table by a fountain. A handsome woman of about forty approached with a smile. "Gentlemen, my wife Alessandra. Alessandra, Mssrs. Al Guthrie and Mordecai Sparks."

"Charmed," she replied with a radiant smile and a hand outstretched, palm down. Mordecai looked at it, uncertain what do do, but Al shook his head at his friend's boorishness, grabbed the hand, righted it, and shook it heartily.

Their host broke in - "I understand you've only just flown in from London. You must be famished."

"Nah, flew first class. They feed ya pretty good. All ya can eat, ta boot. I can recommend it. Ya ever tried it?"

"Yes," the man smiled and nodded, "I have had the opportunity to fly first class. I agree the food can be excellent. But please, our chef has outdone himself this morning, and I'm sure something here will tempt you. I never talk business on an empty stomach."

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« Reply #57 on: <03-06-17/1537:03> »
[Friday September 11th, 2076; Fort Lewis, Seattle]

The rental Gopher made its way around the vast military installation, following the instructions Isaint had been sent by the quartermaster. He had been surprised how easy it was to get a visitor pass, but then there where countless civilians working for the army and the soldiers had spouses visiting too.
The warehouse was one of the more out of the way buildings, requiring civilians to submit their car completely to the military equivalent of grid guide.
The car arrived at the loading dock 22b and Isaint got out of the cab. A steady drizzle had set in and he hurried to get inside, lest the chemical protection of his coat turned out to be not all that it was promised to be.
Isaint was greeted by a bunch of loading drones organizing and transporting boxes of all shapes and weights seemingly at cross purposes through a large warehouse hall. A small office to the left showed to be lit and spread the smell of tea.
When he entered, Isaint immediately recognized Alfred Schwarz: The dwarf had a stereotypical long, grey beard and wore a leather apron. Standing on a stool he was just in the process of dismantling a rifle.
"Good day, Sergeant Schwarz."
The dwarf grunted a reply but kept his focus on his work: "Just a minute."
Interested Isaint peered at the rifle. He realized that the chain that was part of the standard weapons cleaning set protruded from the barrel and Schwarz was pulling with all his might without being able to dislodge it.
"Goddamn it. However do those shit for brains recruits manage to fuck their weapons like this. It's the third time this week."
Isaint grinned at that: "If I remember correctly, I had a fellow Kamerad who managed that trick as well. Used to much cleaner fleece on the chain. They only got it out by using the fat press. Took him ages to get the grease off again."
Now Schwartz looked up and grinned too: "Yeah, I think that's where I'm headed with this PoS too, but before I ruin the week for this unlucky boy, maybe you want to give it a go? Brawny guy like you sure got a good pull, eh?"
Isaint shrugged, took the barrel, let the chain touch the ground and stepped on it. He concentrated for a moment before he pulled with all his might.
There was a ripping noise followed by the chain falling to the ground. Isaint lifted the barrel to his eyes, to see if the blockage had been removed.
"Good news, the barrels clear, bad news, there seems to be a nasty scratch in the rifling."
"Eh, don't worry about it, it's not like those things are shooting particularly straight anyway.
So, you must be Isaint. Got your package right here - with custom stamps and all. Really nice collection, especially that souped up Warhawk. Must be hell on the wrist to fire."
"You get used to it. I hope there were no problems?"
"Na, all necessary permits were there and once it was with my network it was as good as home dry."
"Great. Say, do you have lot's of runner customers?"
"A few. Most of them ex-military. Don't like to sell to people who don't know how to take care of their gear. In fact just a minute before I had one of my regulars here. European with the same accent like you. Which reminds me: He had the same ammo order as you: 7.62 and .44 APDS. Scary motherfucker, but reliable. Don't get in a shoot out with him. I hate to lose paying customers. Let's see, what else did you have on the list... ah right. Flechette, Gel and SnS. No problem.
Flashbangs and pepperpunch grenades are also no trouble, but I couldn't get the foam grenades on short notice. So instead I filled some gas grenades with Hold Fast Spray. Doesn't create barriers for cover but pins down anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the blast. I added the solvent, just in case."
"Thanks. What about that tutor soft?"
"Oh yeah, almost forgot. It's on the chips here. Basic training for planes, boats and submarines. You planning an invasion or something?"
"Nah, just standard bodyguarding." Isaint had gone to the large crate, making sure his possession were all there - both the old and the new ones. He picked the cestus and the Warhawk out and put both into his briefcase. "That seems to be all in order. You take credsticks, I pressume?"
"Either that or gold coins. To dangerous otherwise."
Isaint nodded and handed over the agreed upon fee.
"One last thing: Don't leave by the main door. There is a faster way out here and the guys on guard are part of my network - less paperwork if you catch my drift..."
talk think matrix

To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield
Revenant Kynos Isaint Rex

obidancer

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« Reply #58 on: <03-06-17/1546:57> »
Deckard made himself comfortable in the huge first class seat. He put on the provided AR Glove and was already swiping through all the options available on the flight. He wasn't used to such luxury and though Robyn was like a fish in the water, he was like a child in a toy department.

Quote
Hey, Rick?  Not blowing my own horn or anything and I have no idea if you are interested in that sort of thing, but check out the classical selection, instrumentals section, about seven selections down.  The title is "Robyn Lysander does the Cello Classics" It was one of my better recordings.  I think I will go listen to myself for a bit.

After your performance Below I wonder what can be a better piece, I'm definitely going to listen to that!

And he did. And that was beautiful. He had eclectic taste of music but classical usually wasn't his first choice. But Robyn Lysander had definitely a way to transmit emotions through her instrument. He gave her an approval nod and enjoyed the piece.

Everything was just going too perfectly. Let's see, depart London 8PM arrives in NYC around 11PM Local time, a three hours lay over would be plenty enough to go through Custom, and get some leg stretch. Another 6h flight would make them arrive a bit before dawn. Deckard loved Seattle in the early hours of the morning; when the Shadows dissipates, the cleaning drones washing the night away, Cafes and Bodegas starting to open doors for the early workers or late after-party goers and traffic has yet to built up.

Until he heard the news. Problem with the connection flight, rebooking done in the afternoon... Welcome to Manhattan, Inc! Deckard cursed under his breath. He had this love-hate relationship with the Big Apple, the officially Magic-dead sprawl, yet with more than half a million Awakens. NYC was huge, and strict. The constant check up point, colored passes, ever flying spy drones, a tough place to be for a SINless Runner. And that's what he was. Hopefully Robyn will manage to get them the VIP treatment and avoid all the hassle.

He was running through all the info the plane's matrix could give him on the City, and alas barely listened to the blind elf. All he heard was Waldorf, best hotel, comfortable, room, your call. Deckard gave her the OK sign while reading through the various local info he could find, and a short 'Sounds Good' answer.

Make sure they provide us with the right colored pass, the authorities won't care much for a lame missed connection excuse if we bear the wrong color.

He looked through the window at the bright, shiny, city at night. It was a beautiful sight with a constant flow of motion and life. He looked anxiously at Robyn, she had a soft smile on her face, obviously unfazed by the news. He recalled their earlier conversation about having her in the team, he reckoned she was probably their best asset.   


Rick Deckard - Circles of Fate
Kachina - Shaking the Shadows

adamu

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« Reply #59 on: <03-06-17/1704:08> »
[Thursday September 10th, 2076; Hat Island, Salish waters, of coast of Snohomish, Seattle Metroplex]

After lunch they'd gone out to one of the hangars and there she was, just as advertised. A big beautiful Fed-Boeing PBY-70 Catalina II. Al loved the way she looked like a real airplane, not one of these new-fangled contraptions the corp eggheads were turning out these days.

Al took his time looking her over, working the manuals, visually inspecting the control surfaces, and crawling down into the interiors of the amphibs. He plugged his Fairlight into the diagnostics, made sure there wasn't anything spoofing him, and ran through the checklist he'd downloaded earlier. Mordecai was interested for about fifteen minutes, but then paced and smoked. Dukwibol (damned injun name - Al went back to calling the guy Winslow in his mind) simply stood and smiled through the two-hour process, but Al knew the guy was doing other work on his headware the whole time.

"Looks good," Al finally said. "Let's talk money."

Winslow smiled. "Can we really do that without talking about licensing and registration?"

Al shared a look with Mordecai. "Well, Ducky baby, ol' Al was given ta unnerstand we might could dispense with such formalities, bein' out here in redskin territory."

Mordecai winced, but if Winslow took offense he did not show it. "I'll be frank, Al. You are right, those details don't have to be a problem. Of course, you'll run into problems anywhere else you try to go, but I'll assume you know that and have plans in place."

"Oh, I got papers. Reckon I'd like ya ta put the plane in one o' the names I give ya."

"Thank you for not insulting me with an intimation the papers are valid."

"Valid as money can buy, kemo sabe."

"I can do what you ask. I can also show you a dedicated flight path into and out of Puget Sound where you won't be asked too many questions. It won't exempt you from customs checks, however. It is a courtesty path for my clients, not a license to smuggle through Salish territory."

"Hell, I ain't done no smugglin' in ages."

"How about a place to berth her? Will she be based here in the Sound?"

"Heh, let's see if she comes back from this trip. Cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Fair enough. Throwing in a tank of fuel..." and they talked money for a while. Al came out of it much heavier in the purse than he'd expected, and didn't bother hiding his satisfaction.

"Yes, Al, it's a good deal. I don't think we've made any bones about the sort of work you do. The fact is, you're the sort of individual whose acquaintance I find useful. As is Mr. Sparks here. Call the deal an investment in positive future relations. There are a couple of catches, however, that come with that price."

"Shoot."

"I need an assurance that you'll do nothing illegal with this aircraft anywhere in the Salish-Sidhe Council or the Seattle Metroplex."

Al shrugged. "Done."

"Sorry, I said assurances, not promises. The day may come when they are one and the same, but that day is not yet."

"Well if ya want Mordecai here, I doubt he'll go for it."

"Nothing as melodramatic as that. Merely a lock of your hair, cut by myself."

"Hooo-eee, Ducky baby, now who's askin' fer trust?"

"Well, Al Guthrie, don't you think I've earned a little, not informing the Italians of your presence here today?"

Now Al grinned, wolfish yellow teeth clenched around what was left of the afternoon's tenth Lucky Strike.

"Jist try not ta mess up my hunnerd-nuyen coif."

The aircraft dealer snipped a neat, two-inch lock of Al's sandy brown hair from the nape of his neck with an ornate pair of small silver scissors, depositing it into a plastic sample bag. "I'll look forward to returning this to you once we know each other better. When will you be taking possession?"

"Once my travellin' companions is assembled, Day. Two."

"Are you interested in adding armaments?"

"Nope."

"You are welcome to stay here while you await your companions. The house is for my family, but there is a room here in the hangar, and the chef would send your meals out."

Al thought about how annoying it would be if the mafs got a line on him here prior to Silk's run. And of some of the small things he was thinking of doing with the plane before they left.

"Sounds like a deal, Ducky, much obliged."