Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Crossbow on <11-20-13/1832:58>
-
These runners have been through the ringer, several have simply holed up to heal up, but there are some after a drink and a good night's/day's sleep who hit the ground running, pun intended.
Sammy gets herself dropped off at the hospital after she has divested herself of any items that might make for uncomfortable questions. While there, which is typical for a starlet, she starts working her comms, calling Fionn among others.
Clementine having not really been injured much is able to immediately turn her mind to a new shotgun, she contacts her new friend Torley and arranges to meet and to then introduce him to her weapons guy.
Johnny takes Matty to meet his fixer, and O'Connor crawls back under his rock, or at least that is what the others think :)
-
Sammy was sitting in her bed in the main Docwagon facility in Seattle. She had been checked out by modern medicine but also by one of the magically active healers in this facility. The verdict was some internal organ damage, but nothing that couldn't be helped with some medication and a couple of days of rest. While the magical healers probably knew how it came, they had accepted her story about something gone bad during some stunt work on a project that had to remain secret. While this would lead to some speculation on certain MoSoSos, she could fall back on time-honored replies to keep inquisitive people off her back. But for now she had to get some business done. First of all she called James Dermott, a talismonger she knew in Seattle. Since it was during business hours, she was fairly sure he would be there.
"Hey, James," she said when the connection had been made.
"Hey Sammy," came the reply, "where are you now?"
"I'm back in Seattle, currently in the Docwagon hospital," she said, "nothing serious, just some overcasts. You know how it goes, right? Say, I would like to initiate. Do you know a group that can help me with that?"
-
After disbanding, Clem had taken the other runners' link codes in case something else happened. Prevention was worth its weight in gold on the streets, and then some. The next day, the extra nuyen was burning a hole in her pocket. Knowing he was good with people, she decided to contact Torley for some help tracking what she wanted. She had a very specific item in mind: a new, customized SPAS-22. Ever since laying her eyes on the one in O'Conner's friend's shop, the weapon had been dancing around in her head.
"Torley, Clem here. I'm looking for something and I could use your words to get it. If you're interested in a finder's fee, get back to me."
-
Sam wasn't too surprised when he was contacted by one of the team; he was, however, surprised that it was Clem. Didn't think she trusted me that much, he thought to himself. Still, she had been part of the team, and they'd apparently done something significant together--something worth a mind-wipe to someone, at least--so he commed her back and agreed to help. When she told him what she wanted, he grinned--this would be a challenge. "I'll start the wheels rolling, but this might take some time. Mind giving me a few lessons in Or'zet in the meantime? Never know when I might need to convince one of you orks to calm down." Sam had a pretty good knack for languages, and he'd found that talking to people in their own tongues often opened doors.
Meanwhile, he pondered the text of his hardcopy. He didn't believe it, of course, but they'd paid him enough that he was willing to listen. Making a note to call on the specified date, he then sent a message to Sarah, inviting her to join him for dinner, where he promised to tell her some of what she'd missed out on.
-
Clem was taken aback by Torley's request. "Lessons in Or'zet? What do you want to do with that?" replied the ork.
-
First of all she called James Dermott, a talismonger she knew in Seattle. Since it was during business hours, she was fairly sure he would be there.
"Hey, James," she said when the connection had been made.
"Hey Sammy," came the reply, "where are you now?"
"I'm back in Seattle, currently in the Docwagon hospital," she said, "nothing serious, just some overcasts. You know how it goes, right? Say, I would like to initiate. Do you know a group that can help me with that?"
"Yeah I know exactly how it goes, I have been to a few too many funerals, watch yourself okay? I could introduce you to some folks though I am not sure if they didn't self-initiate. There are several circles I know of that would wet themselves to get someone famous like you, but that is probably not what you are looking for..."
You know that with the intimate nature of magical groups, if they aren't really secretive they aren't really worth the effort.
-
To talk to orks, of course, Sam thought. Instead of saying that, though, he responded, "Oh, I was thinking it'd be good for confusing Red. Or maybe flirting with Sammy, eh?" After a pause, he continued, "Of course, there are also people who get impressed if you can swear in more languages than they can. Lots of reasons."
-
Still confused by the request, Clem answered "I don't speak the language though, omae."
-
Sam paused in confusion. "Really? I thought...kuso, must've been the damn laes mucking with my head. Eh, don't worry about it; it was just an idle thought. I'll let you know when I get a line on your toy. Might need to get some measurements for the customization, of course."
Standing up, he walked over to his apartment's bar and poured himself a small drink. Okay, that was annoying, he thought to himself.
-
"You can tell them that I can do a magical and mundane disguise if they want," Sammy said "as soon as I'm out of this dumb, I'll swing by, okay. Well, gotta go, time to get prodded again."
She suffered through the nurses ministrations while checking out some media sites to catch up on recent events, especially the stuff in LA. When the nurse had gone, she called up Fionn.
"Hey Fionn," she said when she got through, "how are you doing?"
-
O'Connor drove to a coffin motel on the outskirts of Redmond and checked in for two days to recuperate.
[spoiler=Coffin Motel]
Coffin hotel (24 hours) 30¥ (20th Anniversary Corebook, pg. 314)
Total: 60¥
[/spoiler]
[spoiler=Healing]
Day One
Body 4 + Medkit 6 - Average condition 1 - CM 2 = Pool 7
7d6.hits(5) → [2,5,6,6,2,6,1] = (4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4312818/)
Day Two
Body 4 + Medkit 6 - Average condition 1 - CM 1 = Pool 8
8d6.hits(5) → [1,6,6,5,3,6,3,4] = (4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4312819/)
[/spoiler]
After checking out of the motel, O'Connor called Darrell, <"Yo Shortstack, we got a meeting to get to."
-
After checking out of the motel, O'Connor called Darrell, <"Yo Shortstack, we got a meeting to get to."
Darrell lets the call ring a tic or two longer than he would normally, showing he is still a little butthurt from the other day, his response confirms this. "Frag off breeder, I'm busy. Your girlfriend got my money yet?" The camera view at least confirms the truth of the first part of that. He seems to be calibrating a smartlink for somebody's new Predator.
OOC note:
Day One
Body 4 + Medkit 6 - Average condition 1 - CM 2 - Adept 2 = Pool 7 5
7d6.hits(5) → [2,5,6,6,2,6,1] = (4 3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4312818/)
Day Two
Body 4 + Medkit 6 - Average condition 1 - CM 1 - Adept 2= Pool 8 68d6.hits(5) → [1,6,6,5,3,6,3,4] = (4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4312819/)
Fortunately it didn't make a difference
-
Johnny had set up the meeting between his fixer Nanny and Matty for the morning in hopes of a little time to recover. He wasn't at a hundred percent when he led Matty up to her office door but at least he felt up to the challenge of seeing Nanny. He winked at Matty before knocking and looking into the security camera and waving. As the door slid open Johnny grinned and threw his arms wide "Hello dearest nanny, I hope you missed me. I know I missed you." He pulled down the gold rimmed sunglasses and waggled an eyebrow. "I even brought you a souvenir." He chuckled and beckoned Matty inside.
-
O'Connor grinned, <"So I take it then, that you don't want access to higher grade stock?">
-
@Sammy: "Could be better, having a hard time recovering from everything. Still, think it might all have been worth it. How about you?" Realizing that he wasn't going to have much luck recovering from his injuries on his own, Fionn decided it was best to reach out to the group - or at least part of it - about finding a street doc, so he started up a group chat; he thought he'd head someone offer to take Sammy to a street doc to help her get healed up.
@Sam, Clem, and Johnny: <<Any of you lot know a good street doc? I'm gonna be laid up for too damned long if I don't get some help here.>>
Then he sent Sam a note privately, since he wanted to keep his other request a little bit quiet for now - this was a bit too personal to bring everyone in on right now, but he knew he could do with some extra information all the same. @Sam: <<Guys who hired us gave me a name of someone who supposedly can help me out with something - planning to do my own background on him, but I was hoping you might be able to ask around about an investigator by the name of Mason Ritchie; would be good to know who I'm dealing with.>>
That business being taken care of, he decided he should let Jimmy know what he'd learned, especially since he might know what to make of the name he'd been given. @Jimmy: <<Hey mate, looking like I'll probably be laid up for a couple of days to recover from some stuff I had to do, but I'll drop by when I don't look half dead. Meantime, it looks like I might have a lead on what happened to my sister - you remember her mentioning a Mason Ritchie at any point?>>
-
"Sorry Red, don't know anyone in that field" answers Clementine, surprised the lanky elf didn't already know someone on the street that could patch him up. "Frail as he is, I would have thought he'd have a platinum card already."
-
Taking a sip of his drink, Sam smiled. This was a game he knew, and one he enjoyed playing. Responding to the group chat, he sent, "Sure, I know someone. I'll send you the details." Then he fired a quick note to Paul Harris; knowing that it was likely his comm was monitored, he kept it short and direct: Need background check. ID: Mason Ritchie. Tier one. Thanks. Since Red hadn't indicated any urgency--or a desire to pay, which was more important when dealing with Paul--Sam's note indicated that he just wanted the basic details that Paul could find in his line of business, without sticking his neck out. Higher tiers had their cost.
After that, he quickly changed into some loose, nondescript clothing and mussed his hair a bit; turning his back to a blank wall, he raised his comm so it was aimed slightly downwards at him and dialed Dr. Halfmoon's number. She knew he wasn't poor any more, but he didn't want to ruin her image of him.
-
@Sam, Clem, Johnny: <<Hazards of being new in town - hardly know anyone. Appreciate it, Sam.>>
-
"I have a Docwagon, so I went to their hospital," Sammy said, "you should get one as well. The payment we got did cover at least a basic contract. But for something completely different, did you manage to find out something?"
-
"About the people who hired us? Nothing yet - I have plans as to how I'm going to go at that, but it would be best if I healed first. They might have given me a lead on what happened to my sister, too, so I've been looking into that as well. Any special reason for asking?"
-
"Not really," Sammy said, "just curiosity. But you're right, healing first is not a bad idea. Say, if you want I can come by for some magical healing. I know how to do that."
-
"Thanks, but I think you might have done that already - from what I know, that only works once for a set of injuries, right? Sam's getting me the details on a street doc he knows, anyways. There anything in the info they gave you that you want my help looking into, by the way?"
-
"I have to call back to my contact for info," Sammy said, "I don't have anything at the moment. Although, I've done some checking and Laes is good for about 12 hours tops, with effects depending on each person. So that means that from our meet with Mr. J until the first injection there couldn't have been more then that time. That's rather short I would say, since administering it before we arrived at whatever it was they wanted us to do meant that we wouldn't remember what we had to do there."
-
O'Connor grinned, <"So I take it then, that you don't want access to higher grade stock?">
"What kind of scam are are you trying to pull O'Connor? Ain't nobody gonna give a dirtbag like you access to any real hardware, hell I am only dumb enough to do because I need the business." in spite of the insults, you can tell the dwarf is curious.
-
Torley and Clementine:
[spoiler]After suitable precautions are taken on the part of both parties, you find yourself sitting down for coffee at a nice little sidewalk cafe that enjoys a wonderful view of the Aztechnology pyramid. Joining you is Hiroshi Hasegawa, a very well built but professional looking man of Japanese descent. Hasegawa is a friend of Clementine's but since she is looking to do some serious business thrugh a representative, all involved agreed this was how to handle things. Although he approaches the table alone, there is no question that the large man that came in with him is muscle. as he sits down a few feet away and turns the chair to provide a clear sightline on his charge.
[/spoiler]
-
<"Darrell, I'm hurt ol' buddy."> The smirk on O'Connor's face indicated he was anything but, <"Part of my payment for that job was an introduction to some staff sergeant. So we goin' or do you just wanna pout and stay mad at me?">
-
Clementine bows to Hiroshi as he comes in, as they have done every time they met in the past. Once the proper introductions are made and that drinks have been ordered, she turns to Torley and whispers to him "You know my terms, so I'll let you work your magic. But don't be fooled: he's a tough negotiator."
Turning back to her dealer, Clem says "Let's talk business, shall we?"
-
Sam also bows to Hiroshi, slightly less deeply than Clementine. "Hasegawa-san, we are honored to be meeting with you. I believe my associate has told you what we're hoping to acquire?"
-
Johnny had set up the meeting between his fixer Nanny and Matty for the morning in hopes of a little time to recover. He wasn't at a hundred percent when he led Matty up to her office door but at least he felt up to the challenge of seeing Nanny. He winked at Matty before knocking and looking into the security camera and waving. As the door slid open Johnny grinned and threw his arms wide "Hello dearest nanny, I hope you missed me. I know I missed you." He pulled down the gold rimmed sunglasses and waggled an eyebrow. "I even brought you a souvenir." He chuckled and beckoned Matty inside.
Matty was really nervous about this meeting, though he was trying to be cool. Walking into the bordello inspired office space and being eyed like a piece of meat by Johnny's fixer didn't help matters. Fortunately where he was concerned the business he was doing was quickly dispensed with. He passed over the rest of his cred and in return was given a cheap comm containing all of the data on his new life, including contact info for the chop shop he will be working in and keycodes for the new flat.
With she was done with Matty, Nanny turned her bedroom eyes to Johnny, the hungry gaze for new meat replaced by the familiar look for a choice morsel of her favorite treat, "Now what, exactly, can we do for you handsome?"
-
Fionn uses the contact fed to him by Torley to bring himself to a small street clinic tucked away in a residential area a stone's throw from the DMZ. When he give the coded phrase to the receptionist he is led through a back door to an adjacent building where he found some small, but well appointed recovery rooms. His guide hooked up an autodoc and ran through the cycle, guided by a Doctor Halfmoon who was still seeing patients but would check in with him later.
-
Johnny stood up from the chair he had been relaxing in and sat on the edge of Nanny's desk. "Business first Nanny dearest." Johnny smiled and placed a credstick in front of her. "Four thousand two hundred and twenty five nuyen, your ten percent madam. I'm getting awfully close to paying off my debt; what will you do once I'm out from under your thumb?" Johnny raised an eyebrow his grin widening ever so slightly.
-
"So, last question," Sammy said to her brother, "a simple one to stop. Give me the ten triple As."
She was at home for a change, and she was checking if he had studied for his economy exam the next day. After he gave the correct answer she let him go back to his room to play some online games before he had to go to bed. It was fun to have a normal family evening for a change. And tomorrow she would have some fun with Melissa, who would come to Seattle with a film crew for a week. Since the first day she didn't have anything to do while the crews set up the set, she had asked Sammy to go shopping, just like the old days in LA.
Sammy was waiting at the airport where the crew would land. She saw Melissa at about the same time as the other mage spotted her.
"Hey Mel," she said as they embraced, "long time no see?"
"Sure is, Sammy," Melissa said, "when do you come back to LA?"
"Not immediately. I have something going on at the moment."
"The same thing you needed the money for," Melissa asked.
"Indeed," Sammy said, "thanks for trying and luckily it wasn't necessary. Let's go?"
Melissa said to the producer that she would be gone the rest of the day and to call her if something was going on they needed her for and then the two women walked out of the airport and took a taxi downtown.
"I thought we could go to the Aurora village," Sammy said after she had givent he address to the cabbie, "it's very nice and they have just opened a new Zoé shop there."
"Sounds like a lot of fun," Melissa said, "we're in the running for a technical award for our latest film, so I need a new dress anyways."
Moving into the shopping mall they wandered around, going from shop to shop and talking about various things. At the Zoé shop they stayed a bit longer and Melissa indeed bought a new dress, while Sammy just bought a new type of handbag that went well with the gown she already had. She contemplated buying a cocktail dress, but now she had less opportunities to wear one so she didn't. She was also thinking about buying a car now she had a bit more money. Something small but enough to cart her around. While Melissa's dress was being changed to give a perfect fit, they went to a small restaurant Sammy knew in the mall. They knew who she was and this made that she always got a good table, right at the window towards the mall so she could see the people walk by.
"So, Sammy," Melissa said after they had ordered, "what was all that stuff about you called me for?"
"I don't know yet," Sammy said, "we were hit by Laél, so there's a big gap in our memory. I must say it was a strange team though. A couple were people I wouldn't have gotten together with under normal circumstances. We're still trying to figure things out. And you, what's the new movie?"
"Something about runners," she said, "you know the sort. Full of action, women without many clothes despite the Seattle cold and acid rain. Not to mention magic that if you did it in real live would have your brain come out of your ears."
"That I know," Sammy said, "we got back in Seattle via Puyallup and we were attacked by a gang. Since we didn't have many weapons with us, I thought to end it quickly by burning them nice and crispy, but I almost burned myself."
"You know you should be careful with those," Melissa said, "haven't you learned nothing. But you look fine now."
"I had a couple of days in the local Docwagon facility to get back on track," Sammy said, "it's only with certain moves when I do my yoga exercises that I still feel some pain, but it's getting a lot better."
They stopped talking a while when the food was brought and after eating they went back to the shop to pick up the dress and the handbag.
"You want to go to a club somewhere," Sammy asked.
"Better not," Melissa replied, "but we start tomorrow very early and you worked with Jeff. You know how much of an ass he is when you're not in time. Another time maybe."
"Okay, another time," Sammy said, "let me know if you have some time later this week. I should be at home most of the time. You will get back to your hotel."
"No worries, I know where I have to be. I'll just take a cab."
They said goodbye and while Melissa went to her hotel, Sammy went back home to Marcus.
-
SAM TORLEY
Sam also bows to Hiroshi, slightly less deeply than Clementine. "Hasegawa-san, we are honored to be meeting with you. I believe my associate has told you what we're hoping to acquire?"
“She has, and while such an item can be crafted, it will not be a swift process. Additionally, the personalization and other unusual after-market modifications will require exposure of my assets, something I am not going to simply give away.”
Hiroshi waves a stylus on a datapad as speaks, when he finishes he passes the tablet and stylus to Torley.
[French 22, Heav B, Fore g, Skin, Personal, 5k, 10 weeks]
BULLET STORM
<"Darrell, I'm hurt ol' buddy."> The smirk on O'Connor's face indicated he was anything but, <"Part of my payment for that job was an introduction to some staff sergeant. So we goin' or do you just wanna pout and stay mad at me?">
“Whatever, I gotta make some deliveries anyway.”
You are soon driving your dwarven friend to the ass end of Puget Sound, the argument forgotten as you and Darrell talk about a new line of SMGs that he heard Ares was testing.
Tillicum is everything you would expect of a slum parked across from the front gates of Old Fort Lewis, strip joints, trailer parks and tattoo parlors, plus a Stuffer Shack for color. The Shady Oak Apartments seems to be a repurposed no-tell motel over-looking I-5, and there isn’t a tree, of any kind, within a mile of the place.
Stopping at what you assume is 4C, since it is a bare door between the two marked 4B and 4D, you can hear a man and a woman hollering at each other indistinctly through the sound dampening walls. You look to Darrell, who waves grandly to the door in a “Be My Guest!” fashion and stepping back.
JOHNNY CHOPSTIX
Johnny stood up from the chair he had been relaxing in and sat on the edge of Nanny's desk. "Business first Nanny dearest." Johnny smiled and placed a credstick in front of her. "Four thousand two hundred and twenty five nuyen, your ten percent madam. I'm getting awfully close to paying off my debt; what will you do once I'm out from under your thumb?" Johnny raised an eyebrow his grin widening ever so slightly.
The pretty fixer’s face takes the cast of hurt, “Johnny dearest, you make our relationship sound so crude. I sincerely hope you don’t believe we will be parting ways anytime soon, I plan for us to be part of each other’s lives for quite a while.”
She leaned back and crossed two very well sculpted legs and continued, “Now, what kind of business are we doing?”
MYSTECH
Later, when Doctor Halfmoon walks in, she quickly assess your condition and spells out the necessary information, “You will live, but you should stay here so we can monitor your recovery. We can augment your recovery time with some additional services, but those will need to be designated at this time. An immediate deposit of 2500 is required for service to begin.”
[spoiler]
Just gonna need to know what I'm looking at for recovery bonuses here before I roll - I'm guessing I still have to have the -2 technomancer penalty since it's not traditional medicince being used (technomancers follow the same rules as Awakened on that score).
Okay, so first of all, you got the basic roll wrong, it is Body x 2 for 6, minus the mod for tecnomancy, plus the Doctor’s roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4339890/) and however much personal care you want to pay for (ie assitance bonus, 100¥ per assistance, per healing interval, max of 3), so the healing roll for you is 7 + whatever you want to pay for up to 10. Remember your care costs 500¥ per day as well. [/spoiler]
SAMMY
As she walks into her apartment, her comm buzzes. Noting the time, 1600, she sees a half remembered note she made for herself in the warehouse when she first laid hands on her link, but had forgotten completely once the shooting started: 2000, Top of the Needle, Jesus
-
Sammy quickly did her grocery shopping, before going back to her appartment. There she took a shower and put on her Zoé evening gown. At least she would be able to use her new handbag very quickly.
"Marcus," she said to her brother as she came out of her room, "I have to go out tonight. Just order a pizza or something and don't stay up for me, okay."
"Okay, sis," the young man said, going back to his game.
Sammy took a cab to the needle, arriving there a bit before 20.00. She took the elevator to the top and waited.
-
“She has, and while such an item can be crafted, it will not be a swift process. Additionally, the personalization and other unusual after-market modifications will require exposure of my assets, something I am not going to simply give away.”
Hiroshi waves a stylus on a datapad as speaks, when he finishes he passes the tablet and stylus to Torley.
[French 22, Heav B, Fore g, Skin, Personal, 5k, 10 weeks]
Sam glances at the tablet to see what the initial offer was. The first quote was never worth bothering with, he'd found. "Naturally, Hasegawa-san. We would not expect you to give anything away. However, you must also do us the honor of charging a fair wage for the use of those...assets. None of our requested modifications are so unusual as to merit such a steep mark-up--or such a long delay, unless you are planning on having it hand-delivered by a courier from Osaka." He picks up the stylus, crosses out the initial price, and replaces it with "3k, 2 weeks" before sliding the tablet back to Hiroshi.
-
BULLET STORM
<"Darrell, I'm hurt ol' buddy."> The smirk on O'Connor's face indicated he was anything but, <"Part of my payment for that job was an introduction to some staff sergeant. So we goin' or do you just wanna pout and stay mad at me?">
“Whatever, I gotta make some deliveries anyway.”
You are soon driving your dwarven friend to the ass end of Puget Sound, the argument forgotten as you and Darrell talk about a new line of SMGs that he heard Ares was testing.
Tillicum is everything you would expect of a slum parked across from the front gates of Old Fort Lewis, strip joints, trailer parks and tattoo parlors, plus a Stuffer Shack for color. The Shady Oak Apartments seems to be a repurposed no-tell motel over-looking I-5, and there isn’t a tree, of any kind, within a mile of the place.
Stopping at what you assume is 4C, since it is a bare door between the two marked 4B and 4D, you can hear a man and a woman hollering at each other indistinctly through the sound dampening walls. You look to Darrell, who waves grandly to the door in a “Be My Guest!” fashion and stepping back.
O'Connor rolled his eyes as he sighed heavily. He pounded on the door a few times, "Oi, Ulrich! Open up, Vinnie sent us!"
-
Sam glances at the tablet to see what the initial offer was. The first quote was never worth bothering with, he'd found. "Naturally, Hasegawa-san. We would not expect you to give anything away. However, you must also do us the honor of charging a fair wage for the use of those...assets. None of our requested modifications are so unusual as to merit such a steep mark-up--or such a long delay, unless you are planning on having it hand-delivered by a courier from Osaka." He picks up the stylus, crosses out the initial price, and replaces it with "3k, 2 weeks" before sliding the tablet back to Hiroshi.
Hiroshi examines the returned tablet with a look of concern, but he covers it with a sip from his cup. "I don't think you have much experience in these matters sir, even if I should be convinced to discount the cost of the introduction, delivery speed is a factor that increases price."
(OOC: Thvor give a negotiation roll)
-
Stopping at what you assume is 4C, since it is a bare door between the two marked 4B and 4D, you can hear a man and a woman hollering at each other indistinctly through the sound dampening walls. You look to Darrell, who waves grandly to the door in a “Be My Guest!” fashion and stepping back.
O'Connor rolled his eyes as he sighed heavily. He pounded on the door a few times, "Oi, Ulrich! Open up, Vinnie sent us!"
The shouting inside stops immediately with the pounding, after a bit shuffling and a quick look through the peephole the door opens a bit to reveal a muscular man who could be mistaken for a bear in poor light, wearing a military shirt and camo pants, the boot laces loosened.
In a voice that doesn't change the ursine descriptor he growls "Vinnie said I was meeting a dwarf, you're short all right but I don't see a beard, where's the rock-biter?"
A look of outrage comes over Darrell's face as he goes for the Roomsweeper he has under his coat.
-
O'Connor scowled at the man as he stepped back to give Darrell a clean shot, You just dug your own grave asshat. With a few flicks of his wrists, O'Connors pistols slid into his hands. He stood ready to back up Darrell.
-
MYSTECH
Later, when Doctor Halfmoon walks in, she quickly assess your condition and spells out the necessary information, “You will live, but you should stay here so we can monitor your recovery. We can augment your recovery time with some additional services, but those will need to be designated at this time. An immediate deposit of 2500 is required for service to begin.”
"Right then... I'd prefer not to be down any longer than I have to be here, got some things I've got to get on with. On another point though... I might be doing something soon where I have to go under for an indeterminate period of time; could be for a number of days. I've heard of people coming out of this dead from dehydration, so I was hoping that if I do end up doing this thing I might be able to discreetly hole up here until it's done and just be kept in healthy condition. That a service you'd be able to offer?" In the meantime, Fionn pulled up the data he'd been compiling - the scans on his shotgun, the searches on Mason Ritchie... He also fired something off on the group message.
<<At some point, we've still got to settle the debt for the overwatch that got us safely to Tacoma after we landed.>>
[spoiler]
Rolls on alternate site - healing complete in 2 rolls.[/spoiler]
-
Clem was watching Torley do his magic, fighting his own fight against Hiroshi. The ork appreciated his help, there was no doubt about that, but for the moment she didn't let any emotion transpire. She knew that a sigh, a blank expression, even a simple raised eyebrow could raise the end price. Suddenly, a message from Fionn flashed before her eyes. Quickly reading it, she decided to answer it later when she would have more time. The negotiations at hand were all the could handle for now.
-
Hiroshi examines the returned tablet with a look of concern, but he covers it with a sip from his cup. "I don't think you have much experience in these matters sir, even if I should be convinced to discount the cost of the introduction, delivery speed is a factor that increases price."
(OOC: Thvor give a negotiation roll)
[spoiler]Rolled on the secondary site:
[ 15d6S ] => [ [ 1 5 3 2 1 5 2 5 4 4 2 2 4 2 3 ] ]
That's a whopping three hits. :P In a normal game situation, I'd probably use edge to re-roll the misses, but I'm not sure how we're handling edge during the downtime (and I don't want to abuse it as an ever-refreshing luck pool). So...GM, what's your call? Can Sam use his edge on this?[/spoiler]
-
The pretty fixer’s face takes the cast of hurt, “Johnny dearest, you make our relationship sound so crude. I sincerely hope you don’t believe we will be parting ways anytime soon, I plan for us to be part of each other’s lives for quite a while.”
She leaned back and crossed two very well sculpted legs and continued, “Now, what kind of business are we doing?”
"Well I ran into a couple of people who I... violently, disagreed with on this last run and I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of a doctor you could trust. You know the kind that doesn't like paperwork." He let his gaze travel down her legs before meeting her eyes again. "Other then that I had a little shopping list you might be able to help me with. I think its time I took it to the max, ya know? Make my Nanny proud." He pouted out his lips and drew little hearts on her desktop with his finger before a wide sarcastic grin crept back onto his face.
-
Torley and Clementine
4k, 8 weeks --+250 per week sooner, minimum 4 weeks
The return offer is delivered with finality. “Clementine is a good friend, but I will not give away a customizer of this quality for free and I have other work in the pipe for him.”
Bullet Storm
Darrell kicks in the door and follows it in, essentially walking up the body of the soldier as he fell back. Chambering a round into the mini-shotty he sticks the barrel into the face of his victim. “Right here breeder, heard somebody needed an etiquette lesson.”
In the kitchen a woman screams and starts babbling in some strange language.
“Shut the frag up woman, can’t you see I’m working? Jeez shortstack, I ain’t the one looking for a favor, you really think this is a good beginning to a business partnership?” Looking over past the dwarf he talks to O’Connor, his hands up and out unresisting, “Yo Meat, come get cha boy ‘fore we all lose out.”
Johnny
“I got a street corner pill pusher you can have for free or I can give you my guy in touristville for 200, leave me your list and I will see what I can do.”
Sammy and Mystech, coming soon
-
Sammy
The Eye of The Needle has survived in the dog-eat-dog world of Seattle cuisine based on one thing, the view. Yes, the food is delicious, and yes, the security and discretion are top of the line, but you can get those things without a 185 meter turbo lift ride.
The wraparound glass displays a dazzling view of the Emerald City, making it hard to see how deep the shadows can get.
Sammy has been to places like this before, but it was still breathtaking, and troubling. She had been playing along and waiting for the other shoe to drop; there is no way that they were having dinner here, even if he could afford it the dinner, the wait for a reservation was measured in months. She fully expected Jesus to stop her at the cab stand and take her somewhere else, even if she was overdressed. But the joke seems to be on her, she stepped off the lift having been told her party was waiting at the top.
Jesus was impeccably dressed and seemed perfectly at ease with his surroundings, greeting her with an old fashioned kiss on the hand. As he drew away she noticed a gift, a holo-corsage that matched her dress perfectly had been left on her wrist.
“Not bad for a kid from El Infierno, eh chica?” he said with the banger’s voice before turning to address the maître de and letting him see them to the table.
-
O'Connor followed Darrell into the residence, "So Darrell, we doing biz , or geekin' 'em?"
-
"Well, Enrique," Sammy said, using the first name he had given them when they first met him, "I must say I'm surprised you managed to get through the scanners at the entrance. And I'm even more surprised that oil actually came all the way off. So, you zip-lined it in here?"
-
Clementine frowned. The price wasn't as good as she had expected, but it wasn't so bad either. She nevertheless made her thoughts known. "For that price, it better come with a box of Ex-Ex" said the ork calmly, gauging the other party's reaction.
-
In the meantime, Fionn pulled up the data he'd been compiling - the scans on his shotgun, the searches on Mason Ritchie..
Your sprite found nothing of a Matrix signature on the remains of the gun, not surprising considering the timeframe involved, let alone the damage sustained to the weapon when it decided to go blooey.
Mason Ritchie on the other hand has a relative gold mine of info available. He is a well known and capable investigator, having helped Knight Errant, and Lone Star back in the day, crack several high profile investigations. His rep in the shadows is equally unimpeachable, though quite discreet. A particularly noteworthy nugget you are able to dig up points to someone in an Oriental organized crime ring taking issue Richie, but having the beef squashed with alacrity by internal channels. Apparently there are some important people in the deep shadows that like having him around.
-
O'Connor followed Darrell into the residence, "So Darrell, we doing biz , or geekin' 'em?"
The Dwarf seems to seriously consider the option, but visibly changes his mind. "Nah, not worth it." After he puts the Remington away again Darrell offers to help the human back up, who after a second's hesitation takes the offered hand. "Sides, it's not like I got a line on anyone else who can get that gear you mentioned needing. So I guess we are all gonna be pals."
SSG Ulrich seems to be recovering well from his near passing, he offers his guests beer, and seats. Then after a few loud exchanges in that same foreign language with the woman, sends her from the apartment to restock his supply with a threat of a meaty backhand.
"Okay then, now what can we do for each other?" The big man says popping his beer.
-
"Well, Enrique," Sammy said, using the first name he had given them when they first met him, "I must say I'm surprised you managed to get through the scanners at the entrance. And I'm even more surprised that oil actually came all the way off. So, you zip-lined it in here?"
Jesus takes the jab good naturedly, and holds her chair for her. As he settles into his seat, he replies "Some people I used to work for have a table they allow the use of when I need to grab a bite in town." He motions for a waiter to begin the experience of eating a meal that would be a foodie's wet dream.
-
Hasegawa give Clementine a polite smile, "You might think so, we'll have to see. 25% up front, you have the account, I will let you know when you can meet the customizer." Hasegawa leaves with another polite bow.
-
O'Connor holstered his weapons after Darrel lowered his shotgun. Accepting the beer, but declining the seat, he leaned against the wall. He popped his beer, and raised it in mock cheers, "To makin' new friends." O'Connor took a healthy swig before continuing, "My friend's lookin' to expand his stock, we're told you can make that happen."
-
"I can, you would be amazed at how many shipments of Uncle Sam's finest ordnance go missing nowadays, what with the general lawlessness in these parts. I have been looking to make reliable contacts in the Barrens, someone with a level head that I can do business with that doesn't have any Pacific entanglements." The chair he sits in makes some dangerous noises as the big man leans back for a long pull on his can.
"You have some specific needs I can help fill?"
-
Hasegawa give Clementine a polite smile, "You might think so, we'll have to see. 25% up front, you have the account, I will let you know when you can meet the customizer." Hasegawa leaves with another polite bow.
Sam frowned slightly. Once he was sure that the fixer was out of the way, he turned to Clementine. "That...should have gone better. Sorry. I know it's not the deal you were looking for." To himself, he wondered, what the hell? No way that nip gets the better of me...unless he's got an edge I don't? Frak...
-
Sammy knew better then to ask about 'people I work for'.
"Hopefully none of those 'people' show up tonight wanting their table," she said, "so, what's on the menu today?"
-
O'Connor kept silent. He was not the one to handle meetings or negotiations, this was Darrell's show now
-
Without betraying any emotion to Torley, Clementine told him "If you give me your account number, I'll send you ¥500 for your trouble" and got her commlink out to wire the 25% to her contact. Once the money had left her account, she asked Torley "Have you spoken to anyone else since the end of the run?"
-
Darrell looks at O'Connor trying to act the wallflower and snorts, "You're the one that broke the damn thing, I'll do the mods but you tell him what it was that you broke. We ain't gonna get a good price for it, but we can at least test the guy's resources."
Ulrich looks at the two of you wondering who is running the show.
-
O'Connor shot Darrell a semi-feigned glare before returning his attention to Ulrich, "Lookin' for a FN MAG-5." He turned back to Darrell, "He need to nab the sound suppressor too, or you got a line on that?
-
Without betraying any emotion to Torley, Clementine told him "If you give me your account number, I'll send you ¥500 for your trouble" and got her commlink out to wire the 25% to her contact. Once the money had left her account, she asked Torley "Have you spoken to anyone else since the end of the run?"
Uncharacteristically, Sam waved off the money. "Well, you saw the message from Red looking for medical help; I sent him to a friend of mine. She should be able to get him patched up. But other than that, no, it's been quiet." To himself, he added, Almost too quiet. Harris never got back to me about that guy for Red; I should've heard at least something, right? And now this deal fraggin' out...almost enough to make a man paranoid.
-
"No, I can handle the mods."
Ulrich considers the request. "Nice little test, shouldn't be a problem, but I will need some cash up front, say 3k, same on the back end, and I will have to let you know when that is."
-
Sammy knew better then to ask about 'people I work for'.
"Hopefully none of those 'people' show up tonight wanting their table," she said, "so, what's on the menu today?"
The meal goes well, Jesus doesn't seem interested in talking shop, and though he mentions having brushed up on Sammy's movies, he keeps the Hollywood questions to least annoying. He talks a lot about being a kid in LA and seems to be most interested in that part of Sammy's backstory.4
After a fine meal, when Jesus has waved off the waiter a final time, he drops a little bit of a bombshell on Sammy, "So I have to thank you for giving me a line on Jayson Blackeagle again, didn't think he was still alive, I even managed to track him down. We ran together back in the day."
-
Interesting... Wonder what that was about... Fionn wanted to know who he was dealing with going in; he figured that maybe if he knew what the whole supposed beef was about, it might tell him something useful. Not knowing which crime ring it traced back to made things a little more difficult, but he figured he could check with Clem and see if she'd ever heard the name.
@Clem: <<The name Mason Ritchie mean anything to you? Been doing background on the guy for personal reasons; apparently someone in an Asian-orginated crime ring had an issue with him, but then got shut down pretty fast. Sounds like he's connected, but I'm not sure if it's to anyone you might know or not.>>
Meanwhile, he took a run through the access log on his shotgun; it would be hard to trace another technomancer's intrusion, but if he could figure out when it happened, he might have a shot.
-
O'Connor nodded, loaded up a credstick, and tossed it to Ulrich. He turned to Darrell and wordlessly asked if there was anything else.
-
"Why am I not surprised," Sammy said, "everybody seemed to know everybody in that town. And the guy didn't look all that surprised when we arrived. Well, say hi to him from me next time you see him. Which reminds me, we still have his rifle, or at least one of our gun nuts still has his rifle. I'm not sure if it's possible, but maybe you can take it back to him."
-
Clem was a little taken aback by Torley's refusal, but knew better than to take it as an insult. She simply thanked him for his time and help while her commlink informed her she was getting a message. A raised eyebrow gave a clue to Torley that the message was not something she was expecting or from someone she was expecting, but nothing else transpired. She decided to answer Fionn immediately.
"I've met him before. What do you want to know?"
-
She's met the guy? Interesting. Have to wonder if that means something... It was hard for him to see this as a mere coincidence.
<<Hardcopy I got was telling me that I should go talk to him about what I came to Seattle about. Implied that he'd be able to help. Between my research and Torley's contacts, it looks like he's got a pretty solid rep in the shadows, but I'm lacking in specifics; figure if I could find out what sort of problem someone had had with him, it would tell me something. Got no idea what, but definitely something. How do you know him, anyways?>>
-
"Why am I not surprised," Sammy said, "everybody seemed to know everybody in that town. And the guy didn't look all that surprised when we arrived. Well, say hi to him from me next time you see him. Which reminds me, we still have his rifle, or at least one of our gun nuts still has his rifle. I'm not sure if it's possible, but maybe you can take it back to him."
"I wouldn't worry about the rifle, he isn't that much of a shot, but he told me how you guys ended up out there and we are running down some leads on that end. I only mention it because you and I may have to work together somewhere down the line on this, and I wanted to hear your thoughts." Jesus said, showing the very first chink in the 'super-cool runner' armor.
-
Clem answered Fionn's message. "I met him only once, but he's either a made man or he has powerful friends. What did you hear about his problems?"
She then turned her attention to Torley and asked him "Did Red ask you about Mason Ritchie?"
-
"Not bloody much - just that someone in an 'Oriental organized crime ring' had an issue with him, but it was quashed right quick. Wish I had more to go off of, given what I've got to decide if I'm going to bring him in on."
-
"I have no idea what happened," Sammy said, a bit surprised by the 'running together' thing, "as mr. Blackeagle probably told you, we got a shot of Lael, so we don't remember anything. But any information is more than welcome. And as far as running together is concerned, as long as it's running and not flying, I don't mind."
-
Jesus grinned, "Okay, either I am not as charming as I believe myself to be, not much chance of that, or you are misunderstanding me. You being relatively new to the shadows you might not have formed an opinions about romantic entanglements between people who have to work together. If Jayson and I are able to develop some workable leads on what happened to you and the others down in the Tir, will a relationship be a problem for you?"
The elf seemed nonchalant posing the question, but he was clearly interested.
-
"A working relationship, not a problem," Sammy said, "if you can work with 'mr. psycho who doesn't know machine guns' you can work with everyone. So, what direction are you guys looking and can we do something?"
-
"I didn't ask the convict out to dinner." Jesus leaned back waving off the rest of Sammy's comment, "Not unless you got some high level contacts you trust in Portland. Don't worry though, you kids manage to stay alive for a bit and something should turn up, then we'll turn you loose."
-
"They wouldn't let him in here anyways," Sammy said, "as this place has a dress code. And you might be older and flying with a dinosaur, but I'm not a kid, you know."
That last line was delivered with a smile, as she knew that in the shadows they were. She had seen the same thing when they had gotten a new mage in the studio who came right out of university. While he was older then she was at the time, she had been there for some years already and he really looked like a kid, professionally that is. The rest of him was quite yummy.
-
Clem answered Fionn's message. "I met him only once, but he's either a made man or he has powerful friends. What did you hear about his problems?"
She then turned her attention to Torley and asked him "Did Red ask you about Mason Ritchie?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah; got some basic information from one of my...friends that I passed on to him. Dunno much beyond that, though." The pause before the word "friends" was just barely noticeable, but to someone familiar with Sam's role in the shadows, it conveyed exactly what it was supposed to.
-
Clem nodded to Torley, indicating that she both understood and thanked him for answering her question. She then fired a message to Fionn, "I can't advise you on how to approach him, but if he's a lead to something, I would say he's a solid lead."
She then turned her attention to Torley once more. "Thanks for your assistance. If you need help with something, let me know" and, with a slight bow, she left.
She got on her bike and rode off, the grey skies looking like they would unload one of those famous Seattle payloads at any moment. She decided to head home, opting for the comfort of a book and the warmth of her bed over the usual night out trying to find work. She had just gotten paid, with enough to buy a new gun, one she had wanted for a long time. She was actually happy for once in a long time and chose to let herself enjoy it.
She stopped by the Stuffer Shack and got something that wasn't krill as well as some green tea. After all, nothing went better with the Tale of Genji than some green tea.
Once home, after a long, cleansing and relaxing shower, she quickly ate her dinner and boiled some water for her tea. She then slumped in her bed, book in hand and tea close-by, and read until she couldn't stay awake anymore.
-
"Thanks for the info. Think I'm going to set a meet for once I'm healed up and out of here... Leaves some time to focus on who hired us and who tampered with my shotgun..."
-
After finishing up with Ulrich, O’Connor drove Darrell back to his shop, along the way talking more in-depth about the projects he was commissioning. After dropping the dwarf off, O’Connor began scouring the area, Wonder how long it’s gonna take to find a semi-sane hobo? After a considerable search, O’Connor found what he was looking for, a hobo with an exploitable vice, but still lucid enough to follow semi-complex instructions. The hobo was nondescript as far as hobos went: filthy and matted brown hair, bloodshot brown eyes, grim covered, and smelly as shit. O’Connor reigned in his disgust of those weak enough to become like the said hobo, “Yo, got a deal for you. Keep tabs on the Azure Fists and I’ll help pay for your fix. If you’re interested, come here on Wednesdays, starting now, at three in the afternoon. If I’m here, I’m here. If I’m not, I’m not. Though if I’m here and you’re not, deals off. There’s also a bonus in it for you if you find info on a certain member of the A.F.” After the hobo, going by the name of Angus, agreed to the deal, O’Connor gave him the description of the ganger chick that survived his impromptu attack, “Find her, and I’ll pay out enough for you to O.D. on.”
After finishing his business with the hobo, O’Connor returned to his apartment for the first time in days. He was mildly, and pleasantly, surprised that his apartment, and the whole complex by extension, hadn’t been burnt down in his absents. He made his way down the hallway casually. O’Connor took pleasuring in seeing his next door neighbor, a beetle head by the name of Gritz, scurry into his apartment at the sight of him. Gritz gave O’Connor a wide berth after he broke the chiphead’s arm for causing a loud enough ruckus to wake up the entire floor at three in the morning a few weeks back.
O’Connor collapsed on his coach and breathed a sigh of relief. After spending the last several days trekking over the wilderness, navigating the convoluted trail the last run left, and a few days healing up, it was nice to sit down and just breathe. As quick as that feeling of contentment came, it left. As nice as it was, idle moments weren’t ideal for O’Connor. It let his thoughts wonder, for instance they currently fell on the soured relations between him and Clem. He was still angry at her for trying to steal Darrell’s shotgun, but it was a situation he’d created. He’d essentially left a fat kid, by themselves, in a candy shop. If the situation was reversed, he’d probably have done the same thing.
If he’d been clear headed at the time, he probably won’t have drawn a gun on her. At the time though, he’d had a bust rib cage for two days, dragged her across several blocks with said ribs, and then essentially been spit in the face by her flippant attitude towards being caught trying to rob his best friend. Despite all that, he recognized she’d been one of the few people in a long while to show him any measure of comradery. After steeling himself he called Clem, if she answered or it went to voice message his message was essentially the same, “Hey Clem…it’s O’Connor. Yeah, I know we didn’t leave off on the best of terms. I won’t apologize for being pissed off that you tried to rob my best friend, but...I’m…I’m willing to admit that I could’ve handled it better. Anyway, I have biz to talk. If ya wanna meet, cool. If not…whatever.”
-
Clem had heard her commlink ring the night before, but nothing was going to burst her bubble so she had decided to silence it for one night. Nothing was too urgent that night that couldn't be addressed the following morning. Besides, she was reading the last book her boss had given her before he was killed: it would have been an insult to his memory if she had answered the call.
When she woke up, she got straight to it, although the caller ID surprised her: it was O'Connor, and he had left a message. Without bothering listening to the message, thinking he was probably drunk and thought he could get some, she decided to brew herself a cup of soycaf and enjoy a lazy morning, just to prolong that perfect 12 hour streak. While sipping her morning drink, the usual noise coming from the bunraku parlour echoing faintly but surely throughout her apartment, O'Connor's call started nagging her. After thinking about it for a few minutes, she chose to listen to the message, deciding that if it was a booty-call she would have to block his link code.
"Business? Guess he really doesn't have that many friends he can turn to" thought Clementine. She knew she had been wrong to try and take a gun from his friend, but she couldn't admit that to him after he had shoved a gun in her face. At least not now. Clem decided to send him a reply, thinking that a call back would send the wrong message.
"What kind of business are we talking about?" asked the ork, keeping it short and simple.
-
After leaving his message for Clem, O'Connor sent a mass text to all the runners, <Any of ya get contact info from the crazy hermit or the crazier pilot?>
He grabbed a few beers from his fridge while entertaining the idea of buying a beer-fetching drone. He returned to the coach and channel surfed until he found a movie with a suitable number of explosions. He turned the volume up, loud noises helped distract him and drown out his own thoughts. His mind always dwelled on the past, which did nothing but ruin his present, so he did what he could to keep himself in the present.
The next day, he was a bit surprised that Clem had messaged him back. Though, he contemplated, she's probably just lookin' to charge me an arm 'n' a leg. He messaged her back, <Lookin' for another fixer. Hopin' you'd point me in the right direction, for a finder's fee, of course. >
-
"Looking for one myself" replied Clem to O'Connor's message. "Torley probably knows a sea of fixers if you're desperate." After thinking a bit more, she added "I'm headed to the Ice Pick if you're interested. We might have more luck if we come as a pair." The thought of saying "pair" in the same sentence as O'Connor sent shivers down her spine, but she was mature enough to deal with the realities of a life in the shadows.
After sending the message, she got herself dressed, armour, weapons and all, and left her place. On her way out, a man accosted her in the hallway, most probably mistaking her for a joygirl. Getting too grabby, Clem shoved him against the wall, telling him to "Try that again and see how you enjoy paid pleasure without the lower half of your body." Leaving the man reeling from his encounter, she removed her hand from the grip of her sword and left the building, getting on her bike and heading for the Ice Pick, a bar known for occasionally having work. Although she hadn't gotten anything there yet, others had and that was good enough for her to try her luck.
-
O'Connor cocked his head in bewilderment at the message he received. He'd expected Clem to refuse or charge exorbitantly, not suggest teaming up. His reply was simple, <Sure, meet ya there.> He got armed and armoured quickly and headed out to meet Clem. On the way to the Ice Pick, O'Connor kept going over what Clem's motives were in his mind. Minus gettin' sticky fingers at the end, Clem was pretty straight up an' straight forward, her offer could be on the level. Though she did seem the type to hold a grudge, so it could be a set up. Despite all her insults 'bout my people skills, she didn't seem one to make friends easily either, so that could be the reason. On the other hand, she might be expectin' somethin' to happen and needs an unsuspectin' meat shield. I don't fraggin' know, guess I'll just find out when I get there.
-
Clementine arrived at the Ice Pick with the sun at her back. It was still a few hours before sundown, but it was definitely the start of the workday for runners that weren't yet established in the shadows. Parking her bike not too far, she walked into the Ice Pick, scanning the room quickly before taking a seat at the bar. It seemed that O'Connor hadn't arrived yet, which let her relax a bit. She ordered a drink (what was it again?) and started sipping it while waiting for either a Johnson or O'Connor.
-
O'Connor arrived at the Ice Pick a bit later than he'd planned. He'd missed a turn without realizing it for a few blocks. He predatorily stalked into the bar, relaxed but ready to lash out at a moment's notice. He paused briefly to scan the room, and found Clem quickly since she was at the bar. He made his way over and took the barstool next to her. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement before ordering a dark beer. He took a healthy swig before turning to Clem, "Gotta say, wasn't expectin' ya to suggest teaming up." Normally O'Connor would've ended his statement in a double entendre, but since they were there for business, he decided to be on his best behavior.
-
As you sit in the back of the private car, you wonder again at the information in the strange hardcopy note, even as you follow its instruction. Dressing in formal attire is not something odd for you at all, and you are certainly comfortable with the deference shown to you by the driver when he arrived, courteous and professional to take you to your appointment.
The towering skyline of Downtown Seattle quickly overcomes a rare sunny day as you realize you are traveling on some of the highest priced real estate that has ever existed. Whether the multitudes of turns are meant to confuse you or lose possible pursuit, you have to assume it is successful either way as a final random turn onto an underground ramp erases the last of any natural light.
The vehicle travels a parking structure under it is facing a blank wall. The wait is such that you almost decide to reach for a door handle when a hidden panel shifts and slides away and the car pulls forward down a driveway. The car stops again and your door is opened by a dangerous looking person perfectly at ease in his suit and mirror shades, the elevator has an additional security person, as well as a much less imposing person by a small podium.
Walking up the three short stairs you head for the opening elevator when the little man make a polite cough and the dangerous one raises his arm to block your way.
“I am sorry Ms Delavine, but you really should travel up to the event together.” Says the slight one and as the ork woman turns she is quite surprised to see Sam Torley stepping out of similar vehicle.
-
Surprised nothing else was coming, Clementine answered to O'Connor "Money talks, Con. And there's a better chance of landing something if we cast a wider net." O'Connor could see that she was already a few drinks in by the empty glasses in front of her, but that didn't seem to impact her at all. Maybe she was drinking non-alcoholic beverages, or maybe she had a high tolerance for alcohol? She was an ork, after all.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, trying to identify what he was carrying. [spoiler]Int 4 + Perception 3 + Perceptive 2 + Vision Enhancement 3 (12d6.hits(5)=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4393603/) no glitches[/spoiler]
-
O'Connor nodded at her answer, "Pragmatism, got it." He saw her scanning him analytically, again biting his tongue from making some crude comment. In lieu of saying something, he merely assessed what and where her own weapons where, though he didn't bother trying to do it on the sly. After finishing his own assessment of his new partner, he motioned to the empty glasses, "You interview better after a few?"
[spoiler=Perception]
Int 3 + Perception 3 + Visual 2 = Pool 8
8d6.hits(5) → [6,4,2,5,1,2,5,1] = (3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4393622/)
[/spoiler]
-
"Don't you?" asked Clem as an answer to O'Connor's question. Seeing him obviously checking her out, she rolled her eyes and said to him "Be discreet about it or just ask me, you oaf" before finishing her drink. O'Connor couldn't miss the big sword she was half concealing under her overcoat, at waist level. He did also spot a stun baton on the other hip, a sub-machine gun (a Colt Cobra?) and a handgun tucked way inside the coat (pretty sure it's a gov. 2066).
While rolling her eyes, she took the opportunity to look around the room. There were a few other Clems and O'Connors, just waiting for someone to approach them with an offer. Although the evening was just starting, the air was already filled with smoke and curses, some patrons drinking with one another while others were discussing various things. Everyone was on edge, trying desperately to set themselves apart from the rest of the pack.
"What did you spend your money on?" asked Clem in an attempt to distract herself from the somber atmosphere.
-
O'Connor cataloged Clem's armaments, and gave her a semi-mocking smirk, reflexively taking the opening, "I can't help it if you keep your weapons in nice places to look." He mental cringed at his own comment, Dammit..managed to stay professional for about what? Minute, minute an' a half? Well, new record at least. He pressed forward, hoping to speed past it, and gestured towards the smg, "Cobra, right? Which variant?" At Clem's question, his face light up a bit, "Got Darrell workin' on a couple projects. Got a line on a replacement for the MG I broke, and the other one is upgrading that hunting rifle. What you getting?"
-
"Now there's a surprise," Sammy said to Sam, "then again, I didn't know what to expect. It's strange that they would get you out here too. But where are my manners: how are you?"
-
"And... there it is" thought Clem at O'Connor's remark. She decided to act as if she hadn't heard him altogether and instead answered his question. "The one with the gas-vent system."
After listening to him, she answered his second question with a simple "shotgun. Needed one. Just by the way, do you always travel with your whole arsenal on your back?"
-
O'Connor shrugged, "I'm kind of in the middle of a personal war. Never know when some assholes might swarm on me, so I'm always ready." He disinterestedly scanned the crowd again, but turned back soon, lest the morose tone of the bar infected him too. He shook his head, "God, this place is depressing."
-
Clem just looked at her drink and decided not to answer that comment. She instead went back to what O'Connor had said. "A personal war? What are you talking about?"
-
"Now there's a surprise," Sammy said to Sam, "then again, I didn't know what to expect. It's strange that they would get you out here too. But where are my manners: how are you?"
Sam smiled at the actress. "I assume that your note was as cryptic as mine was? I, too, don't know what to expect--but the cash they already gave us covers a lot of questions. Glad to see a familiar face, though."
Glancing at the security goon and the podium, which seemed somewhat incongruous in the parking facility, he stepped towards the smaller man. "Maitre d', I believe we have a reservation. Would you kindly show us to our table?"
-
O'Connor finished off his beer before replying, "Think I told a bit of this story back in Hicksville. Anyway, long story short: Way back when, gang called the Azure Fists betrayed me and got me locked up. Now I'm out and I'm payin' 'em back every chance I get."
-
"Wouldn't it be easier to go after the leader?" asked Clementine, a little puzzled by O'Connor's strategy.
-
O'Connor scoffed bitterly, "All the time I lost because those fuckers stabbed me in the back, there's no way I'd be satisfied with somethin' as simple as that. I'm not gonna kill the beast, as it were, by cuttin' off it's head. I'm gonna feed it feet fraggin' first into a damn meat grinder." He ordered another beer and a shot of whiskey. He downed the shot promptly, and stared back towards the rest of the bar, "Gotta be more we can do than just sit here, hopin' for work."
-
"I'm all ears, Con" replied Clementine. "Show me how you get work." after the words left her mouth, she half-regretted saying them.
-
A small smirk tugged at the ends of O'Connor's mouth, People ain't wrong when they think of me as a rabid dog, and you just gave me a helluva lot of leash. He chugged his beer before speaking, "Well eliminatin' the competition's always been a personal favorite. In my haunts, I just beat the shit outta one of the guys lookin' to fill the same role as me. That gets me a few more scraps, afterwhich I'm alpha fraggin' dog." He cracked his knuckles theatrically, "And after all the bullshit of that last run, a decent bar brawl sounds like a great way to unwind." He started to rise out of his seat a bit slower than he normally would. He was curious to see if Clem would try to stop him.
-
"Sit back down" exclaimed Clem when O'Connor stood up. "This isn't your show, Con. This is our show, so don't bring any unwanted attention to yourself. Acting like a drekhead won't get the Johnsons hot for you."
-
O'Connor gave a mock pout, "Well you're no fun." He turned around and leaned back against the bar, but remained standing otherwise, "If a demonstration of superiority's out, what's your grand idea?"
-
"My grand idea is to let our previous job be our resume and show potential Johnsons that we can be cool, calm and collected. We don't need to bring unwanted attention." Clem ordered another drink and continued before O'Connor could say anything. "Whom do you think Johnsons would hire? A loudmouth that needs to make a show of everything or a professional that can be discreet in the shadows?"
-
O'Connor shook his head, "You keep usin' the phrase unwanted attention like its this big, horrible thing. Haven't you ever kicked a hornet's nest just for the adrenaline rush?" He also ordered another drink without interrupting their bickering, "A loudmouth, as you put it, is great for soaking up all that unwanted attention that all you discreet people seem allergic too. Don't really know the types of jobs you usually take, but me, I'm not the guy you call when you need a problem solved. I'm the guy you call when you need a problem shot, stabbed, set on fire, and then dumped in an alley for the ghouls." He turned and looked Clem full in the face, "I get hired for jobs because I'm the meanest an' nastiest mutha on the block. I get hired for being a sledgehammer, not a scalpel."
-
"The IQ of a sledgehammer, too" thought Clem but she decided to keep quiet and finish her drink instead. "Ever found out how you landed the last job?" asked the ork as she signalled the bartender for a refill.
-
O'Connor shook his head, "Nah, all my guy could tell me was that he got word of a job needing firepower, so he sent me. Your luck any better?" As entertaining as it was pushing Clem's buttons, he was already getting sick of this place. He loathed sitting around doing nothing, he didn't idle well. Every muscle in his body was protesting his inactivity. In a futile attempt to quell his fidgetiness, he folded his arms across his chest and began strumming his fingers along his biceps.
-
"Nah, nothing on my end neither. But I think Red might be onto something though." She could see O'Connor was getting impatient. Maybe he needed to get a fix, or maybe it was just from boredom. Anyways, Clem needed to change his mind. She looked around the bar for the sleaziest patron there was. She spotted a human with greasy hair talking with 2 friends. Pointing at him with her head, she asked O'Connor to follow her. She went to the table and asked the guy "My buddy here thinks he can disassemble a gun and put it back faster than you can. Care to wager on it? Loser buys a round of drinks."
-
O'Connor's face furrowed in confusion when Clem indicated towards the trio across the room. Out of curiosity, he followed without comment. Once Clem laid down the challenge, O'Connor was still a bit confused, *What's the point of this?* Though it was pointless and not of his making, or perhaps because of those, O'Connor took to the challenge with gusto. He gave the sleazebag a smug grin, "I'll be having a whiskey and cola."
-
Glancing at the security goon and the podium, which seemed somewhat incongruous in the parking facility, he stepped towards the smaller man. "Maitre d', I believe we have a reservation. Would you kindly show us to our table?"
SAMMY AND TORLEY
The gentleman at the desk smiles at Torley's little joke and moves to escort the pair of you into the luxurious elevator. Once inside he addressed the runners, "Your sponsor in the organization has taken great pains to provide you with this opportunity. As of right now, I can share with you as much information as you are likely to receive with the understanding that specifics of any kind will not be forthcoming prior to your acceptance into the organization, and probably not much more on the other side."
The doors close, but movement is not felt if it occurs as the gentleman continues. "The organization is a highly skilled and highly secretive circle dedicated to providing a safe place for people who might otherwise be compromised to enhance their magical knowledge and skills. Upon your acceptance as an acolyte, it is understood that you will defend this secrecy, by word, deed and magical bond. As an acolyte you will further be expected to accept subordination to the more senior members of the organization, which at the moment would consist of everyone else in the organization. While it is possible for you to eventually gain rank, understand that the nature of the organization and nature your position in it will not drastically change, as you will always be considered seconded to your sponsor. In return for your loyalty and discretion you will be given access to the organization's resources, which are substantial, and will be exposed to the higher mysteries by instructors of unparalleled skill. What are your questions?"
-
What are my questions? How about what aren't my questions? This is all way beyond me... were the first thoughts to run through Sam's head. Keeping his face calm, however, he says, "Well, I can understand your interest in Ms. Delavine here. I've seen her in action; real talent. But me? I'm just good at convincing people to do things. You guys seem to think I've got some sort of voodoo-hoodoo skills, and honestly, that ain't me. I can't cook your insides by looking at you funny. Can't lift a rock without touching it. The force, as they used to say, just isn't with me." He shakes his head. "I mean, no offense to our 'sponsor', but don't you think I'd know if I had some sort of special third-eye, sixth-sense, seventh-son-of-a-seventh son gig going on?"
-
"This really sounds like half of the trids I've made," Sammy said, "a mysterious organisation that recruits people. In those trids, most of the time the organisation turns out to be evil, strangely enough. I'm not saying that it's the case here, but I do want some reassurances. While I know that death is part of our line of work and accidents can and do happen, I don't want to do assassinations. I also don't want to be part of any organisation which promotes racism or genocide. I'm not trying to insult people here, but I have my beliefs which I'd rather not violate."
She paused a second to see what the reaction was of the man at the desk.
"I also have a question. You say that we will always be seconded to our sponsor. I assume this is you? And what becomes of us if our sponsor dies, becomes incapacitated or turns traitor?"
-
The gentleman consults a datapad, "Yes, I was told that you are an undeveloped social adept. I can assure you that at least some of your talents are magical in nature, and while your aura does naturally conceal itself, someone with training can and will know your secret. If you like, that might be a direction you wish to take your studies, into areas of masking your aura better." the man, seeing the doubt still evident on Torley's face, turn to Sammy, "Surely if have worked with him you ascensed his talent, correct? Perhaps you can convince him."
Turning fully to the mage, "To answer your concerns, the organization has no particular ideology or agenda that I am aware of that will interfere with you personal beliefs. I would seriously doubt that you will would even be considered for membership if there was any bias or bigotry that is involved in the process. As to your concerns about your line of work, I should tell you that while I am sure the membership includes individuals who have 'worked the shadows', as they say, the resources available to them in the organization do not lend themselves to being useful in that regard."
"I am not your sponsor. I am, in fact, a seconded member of the organization myself. I can tell you that once accepted into the organization, should you and your sponsor decide to part company, or your sponsor leaves the circle, you may be still considered a member, though you may wish to find a new sponsor as the dues are quite exorbitant, and they are generally covered by the sponsor."
-
"It's been a while," she said, "but I did see some magic in his aura. Now I must admit that assensing isn't my strongest point. It's something I have to improve. As for sponsorship, I can always make another trid, win an oscar and seduce Kline, now can I."
She said the last with a smile.
"Well, let's move on I would say," she added.
-
Fioon finally decided that he'd gathered as much information on Mason Ritchie as he could for now - now he needed to set a meet with the man. <<Mr. Ritchie, I've been told I should reach out to you, that you'd be able to assist me with a missing person's case. Is there somewhere we could meet to discuss it?>> Fionn was perfectly happy to deal with things online, most of the time, but he had a bit of a talent for reading people which was more useful in a face-to-face meet.
He also posted a message up on the hidden boards maintained by the Circle, the resonance guild in which he claimed membership, about the unusual encounter he'd had with the being they knew as An Fairtheoir, the sentinel who barred the paths to what lay beyond the Matrix. He hadn't heard of the like before, but he was hoping some of the other guild members might be able to shed some light.
Still, he resisted the temptation to invstigate his mysterious prior employer immediately - he'd be out of this clinic soon, and that was a task best left until he was mobile.
-
Clem and O'Connor
Considering the lack of work in the offing, meeting Frank, the leader of the mooks, along with the brothers Sal and Dino, keeps the evening from being a total waste. The three are low level enforcers trying make a break from The Family. As O'Connor and Dino trade rounds back and forth in quickly elevating games of danger and skill (Dino is as good with knives as O'Connor is with guns, and almost as fast.) Clem and Frank are able to speak and trade notes on the goings on of the various organized crime syndicates operating in Seattle. After O'Connor has a particularly poor showing in Five Finger Filet, Sal leans over to Clem. "You might want to help your friend, they are talking about going out back for Mumbly-Peg and my brother is double jointed with a pretty good pain editor on line. Somebody is gonna end up in a clinic."
-
Clem, always happy getting an update on underworld politics, listened while trying to give as little information as she could get away with. After O'Connor butchered his fingers, Sal informed her of their next game, which got her thinking. "Getting Con into the clinic wouldn't be half bad, but it reduces my chances of getting a job. And I know he's not going to back down because the brother said so..." thought Clem. "Do you know where we could find some Zen?" asked the ork to Sal.
-
Though O'Connor still thought a bar fight would've been more fun, the game of one-upmanship with Dino had been a good time killer. O'Connor examined the hand he mangled during the knife game, *Damn, that stings. Good thing I'm ambidextrous.* He was brought out of his musings by Dino's challenge to a game of Mumbly-Peg, "Haven't played that since I was a kid. Let's do it." They'd been mostly neck and neck until the game of Five Finger Filet, time to even the score.
-
The lift that Sammy and Torley were in could have moved in any direction, or in several, but whatever inertial compensators there were prevented any clue. When the doors opened they could see a remarkable view of the Seattle, but both knew enough that such things could be easily faked.
The thing that couldn't be faked, at least not in so large a group, was the sense of privilege that was an almost a physical wall they passed through as they entered the event. Although, they were each familiar with such surroundings, the runners could feel their humble beginnings and, however brief, professional careers in the shadows as if they were glaring neon signs to these people. There was money here, and a lot of it.
The room was outfitted for a reception, with approximately 20 metahumans as the clear primaries, their status denoted by ornate decorative masks, and half as many secondaries, also masked, but these plain, with a few quiet and efficient staffers.
The new arrivals garner a great deal of attention, it is clear they are something of a curiosity, and the purpose of the gathering. Their guide, who has yet to identify himself, takes them through the next several hours, introducing them to the various individuals with the decorative masks and a few of the secondaries. The idea seems to be a continuous interview process combined with a tour of the facilities, which could be most accurately described as high-end but not noticeable so. What is pressed on you is the nature of the group, incredibly secretive, almost anonymous and a sense of status, they make it clear that this collective exists by their will and for their benefit, though that sounds a lot more nefarious than it is. While you can tell that there are more than a couple that seem to have a desire to make use of your profession, none of the conversations you have give you any sense of unease.
(OOC: We are going to keep this simple, this is an interview for a spot that is pretty much guaranteed, so you have to actively not screw it up. Each of you can roll a Social extended test with a threshold of 10 and an interval of an hour, and tell me how long it takes. Magical etiquette and High Society add to your pool. Obviously you need to report any glitches. You will get a briefing by PM of the groups specifics.)
-
While talking to various people, Sammy tried to get an idea of who was behind the mask, should they be famous. But she quickly had to abandon the idea, as the masks distorted the speech sufficiently that with her reduced hearing she couldn't identify the voices. As she was used to high society gatherings, having done Oscar ceremonies and more cocktail parties than she could count, she felt at ease. The only thing that was a bit less was that everybody could see who she was and she couldn't do the same. But then again, they would know all about her as it wasn't that her life had been private the last years. Only the last few months it had been more so.
[spoiler]
I don't have as much etiquette I see, so I need 5 hours. Unless my fame somehow helps (my specialisation in etiquette is media, which I assume will not count):
charisma 4 + etiquette 1 =5 (5d6.hits(5)=2, 5d6.hits(5)=2, 5d6.hits(5)=2, 5d6.hits(5)=2, 5d6.hits(5)=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4421070/)
[/spoiler]
-
Despite his initial reservations, Sam quickly found himself enjoying his time at the "reception". He was in his element and he knew it, despite the group's ostensible focus on magic. He was glad, however, that no attempts were made to separate him from Sammy, as she seemed to be slightly more anxious than he would have expected from a famous actress. As the conversation flowed, Sam was surprised to find that this particular secret society didn't require dues from the rank-and-file, though there was some indication that the lower ranks were expected to periodically perform some sort of "service", which was--naturally--left rather ambiguous.
-
The office of Mason Ritchie is a study of contrasts. It was already clear from scans that Mr. Ritchie drew on the Pulp Fiction private investigator image that so many in his line of work embody, the decorative touches of the old furniture and poor lighting bear that out. But the tech on display leaves no doubt that the man uses state-of-the-art tools in his work.
Fionn is welcomed to the office with polite and firm handshake, and after settling in to appropriate chairs Mason gets right to business.
“I am not used to being the one investigated, but considering what I know of your story, I will let it pass this time.” Mason calls up a display for Fionn’s perusal. It shows side by side background files on Fionn and his sister, Maeve. It showed personal information from overseas, plus stuff he had no business having. Fionn sees himself in a private interview with the Dean of Matrix Studies, and what he assumes is Maeve on security footage with others on some kind of run.
“I hope this is sufficient to establish my bonafides, if you own inquires were not sufficient. I haven’t dug very deep, but there are definitely some curiousities surrounding the disappearance of your sister’s team. I am going to need you to tell me anything and everything you can think of if I am to help you.” said Mason. “My retainer has been paid, so I only need the go ahead and my questions answered to continue.”
-
"Damn, I'm kind of impressed. Feel like I should already know how you got that." The joke was meant to break the ice, more than anything.
"Truth be told, I haven't been able to gather much; I've got a pretty loose timeline pieced together, including the last meet she was supposed to be at, but I don't know what the job was or whether or not she made it. What I have been able to find is on here," He passed a datachip he'd copied his notes onto to Mason, "Including details for anyone I know of she might have contacted. There's a guy we knew from way back who was originally from around here, but we lost touch after things went up in Boston; he said he was going underground, and given everything that happened since then for people like us, I can't blame him. If she was able to, and she needed to become a ghost, she might have contacted him. Outside of these notes, though, what is it you're looking to know?"
-
"The contact is definitely someone I will need to look into, I assume his name is on here..." Mason slots the chip and give it a quick scan, "...yes this will allow me to move forward with the investigation. I will begin immediately and I will let you know the minute I get anything. The group you were working with, have you kept in touch? I imagine such physical assets may prove useful, I can contract out if we need to, but at this point it would be best to keep our cards close."
--------
"Quit fidgeting with it, I ain't paying for the antibiotics if you let it get infected." Frank said as they waited for their breakfast orders in the diner down the street from the clinic he had taken them to. The wound was minor, even though the knife had gone all the way through, but the bandages itched like crazy. It could have been a lot worse all things considered, Clem and Frank had both had to hold back Sal after O'Connor had laid out Dino. Both tasks were quite remarkable considering Sal was quite the bull and O'Connor had had his foot pinned to the ground at the time.
"Really am sorry about that, dude. I never had Zen before, didn't think it was gonna play that much havoc with my aim." Dino seemed genuinely concerned, but clearly was being careful. He had the table and his running buddies between him and O'Connor, the shiner growing on his left eye clearly needing no more company.
All should be forgiven, Frank had even covered them for their drinks, their food and the Doc.
-
Clem hadn't had the night she had hoped for. She didn't get a job, but she did meet a few wise-guys (or ex), she was in one piece and she was having a paid breakfast at a diner. All things considered, it hadn't been too bad of a night. And for bonus, O'Connor had had a knife through his foot.
"Are you kidding, Frank? He lives for that sort of stuff" answered the ork, nodding towards O'Connor. "Just remember: you guys need any outside muscle, you give us a call" said Clementine, finishing the last bite of her breakfast.
-
O'Connor's night had take several unexpected turns, starting with Clem wanting to meet and ending with a knife in his foot. All in all though, it'd been a pretty good night. He waved off Dino's apology, "Whatever, I ain't all that mad 'bout it. HItting the guy that stabbed me is just a reflex." He nodded his agreement with Clem, as he too finished off his meal.
-
"Still in touch with most of them, yeah, though some of them just straight up disappeared after things shook out. And if you do happen to find that guy, probably best if I'm the one to make contact - I'd guess he's still pretty bloody paranoid, you know?"
-
Mason rises and sticks out his hand. "I will keep that in mind. That should be all I need for now, let me get to work and see what I can turn up, anything else you think of, let me now."
-
After Sammy agreed to join the group and had explained what she wanted, two of the primaries took her with them, followed by three secondaries. They went to a side room which she identified as a hermetic lodge, although she saw things she hadn’t seen before. Before she could ask, she was requested to stand on one of the points of the pentagram drawn on the floor. The others stood on the other points, except one of the secondaries who stayed outside.
“We are here to initiate a new member in the Club,” one of the primaries said, before turning to Sammy.
“Do you swear to keep the Club a secret,” he asked.
“I swear,” Sammy replied.
“Do you swear to follow the commands of those placed above you,” the primary asked next.
“I swear,” Sammy replied again.
“Do you swear to help other members to the best of your abilities when asked,” was the next question.
“I swear,” Sammy replied.
“Welcome to the Club,” the primary said. The one secondary who hadn’t joined in the circle stood next to her with a pair of scissors and a small canister.
“Now we just need a material link,” the primary leading the ceremony said, “some hair would be sufficient.”
“Okay,” Sammy said. From what she had heard, this was not unusual. The secondary with the scissors took some hair, put it in the canister and left the room.
“Now we can go immediately for your initiation,” the primary said. He started to speak on the nature of magic, at least according to the hermetic tradition. His voice was droning and Sammy started to feel her eyes starting to get heavy. While she remained conscious, things were happening on the subconscious levels as well. Then the second primary took over, also speaking in that hypnotising way. He was followed by each of the secondaries.
Suddenly the last one stopped talking and Sammy blinked. A quick look at her watch showed that more than one hour had passed. She felt weak and could hardly stand.
“John will take care of you,” the leading primary said, indicating the secondary who had left the room with her material link and who had returned. He handed her a glass of water while the others left the room. Then he showed her the secret signals she could use to indicate membership to other members, as well as her password for the secure server they had. On there she could for instance request transport to the building they were in, as she wasn’t supposed to know the location in the beginning. He also mentioned libraries and other things she could use upon request.
After being brought back close to home, Sammy told her brother not to disturb her and she went into her lodge to practice. During the course of most of the night, she found that if she performed gestures like she had done during some of her trids, they helped her to mitigate the effects of drain on her body.
-
After a while, Sam found himself in a quiet corner talking to a shapely young woman in an ivory dress. The mask covered enough of her face that she'd be hard to identify on the street, but what it did reveal was very attractive. She'd been introduced as Lyra, though given the secretive nature of the group, Sam was pretty confident that it wasn't her real name. She explained to him that the group consisted of all sorts of magical talents--magicians, like Sammy, but also mystic adepts and mystics. She insisted that Sam was part of this last group, but he wasn't convinced.
"Look," she said, "We want to help you. If you join our group, we will do what we can to help you grow--and we won't ask more from you than we know you're capable of." She smiled, and then moved subtly--so subtly that Sam almost missed it, but somehow he understood that she was being truthful, and that she wanted him to agree.
Sam blinked. "I've...never seen someone do that. People tell a lot through their actions all the time, sure, but that...that was deliberate. How'd you...?" He broke off mid-sentence, for once at a loss for words.
Lyra smiled. "I'm an adept, too. That's a skill called kinesics; I wasn't sure until I was able to talk to you for a while, but you have it too. The short version is that we're both very, very good at reading other people's body language, and at controlling our own. Trust me--if you didn't have the ability, you wouldn't have noticed anything unusual at all. Now, do you believe? Will you join us?"
Dumbfounded, Sam found himself nodding slowly. Lyra stood up, took him by the hand, and led him to a side room where he would officially be inducted into the group, all the while talking about how much he'd be able to learn, and how excited she was to have him joining.