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[IC] New Beginnings DUSK

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Crossbow

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« Reply #30 on: <09-19-16/2110:28> »
     The room is set up like an old-fashioned parlor out of a period trid. Two small couches and a variety of comfortable chairs are set up in the room, along with a real wooden dining table, set with a white linen tablecloth and crystal glasses. A real fire in a hearth warms the room, and the flickering firelight sparkles off the crystal on the table. Sitting casually in one chair is a brown-haired human woman with fair skin and blue eyes. She’s wearing a pale-blue tailored suit and some unusual jewelry, including a large dragon-shaped ring. She’s sipping a glass of wine when you enter, but she smiles and stands when the hostess closes the door behind you.

     When she stands to greet you, you realize she’s much taller than a normal human woman, and her slender figure clues you in; she’s an elf. She’s attractive, but not in the same class as that hot hostess outside—until she smiles at you. Her smile lights up her face, transforming her from simply attractive to suddenly stunning.

     “Hello,” she says, greeting you all. “I’m Ms. Johnson. Thanks for meeting on such short notice. Please, sit down.” She waits for everyone to sit and introduce themselves.

HydroRaven

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« Reply #31 on: <09-20-16/0013:50> »
Clem steps into the room, noticing their host as she stands up and introduces herself. *Another high-class elf* thinks the ork as she bows to the slender woman and introduces herself simply as "Clem." She then takes a seat on one of the couches, and waits for her companions to make the proper introductions.
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Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #32 on: <09-20-16/0111:38> »
At 1700, Snow is putting the last bit of the minimal amount of make up on and spares a thought or several for the rest of the Heaven's Devils, wishing them a silent good luck.  She feels the hand of her client as it caresses her bare back.  "You seem a bit far away, my dear.  Something troubling you?" 

Snow puts her most brilliant smile on her face and turns to look at the man she is entertaining.  "Not in the least.  Now, that is a very nice tuxedo.  Very nice indeed.  I hope that I am up to the standard you are setting." 

The look he gives her tells her in no uncertain terms that she is very much up to the standard.  She smiles and gives thanks to the part of her that kept the fancy gown, even if it a year out of style.  She looks great in it, but she likes to see that her client thinks so as well..  The hotel com system pings with a message that the car is ready and she glides gracefully over to it and thanks the concierge, letting him know that they would be down.  She is listed on the hotel books as the Personal Assistant to her client, and although no one really believes that, they turn a blind eye.  But she knows the drill and fills the role of PA perfectly.  She walks over to the man and straightens his bow tie a bit before flicking a bit of lint from one sleeve.  He holds out his arm and she slips hers onto his as they leave the room and head to the private elevator that will transport them in silent comfort to the lobby and the waiting limousine.
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Necrogigas

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« Reply #33 on: <09-20-16/0128:37> »
As O'Connor entered the room, he saw the roaring hearth. There was a hitch in his step as he fought the urge to backpedal away from the flames. The smell of searing flesh and melting kevlar filled his nostrils. He swallowed hard and forced his eyes away from the fireplace to the woman that greeted them. O'Connor nodded to the Johnson, "Bullet Storm." While far easier on the eyes, and seemingly had a better attitude, than all the other Johnsons he'd meet, this did not put O'Connor at ease. If anything, it made him more wary. She wasn't acting like a run of the mill Johnson, so she probably wasn't one. On top of that, she was obviously high class and an elf to boot. Those descriptors together made him think of the Tir. Though it'd been several months since they'd pulled the job that brought them together, O'Connor didn't think for a moment they were out of the woods when it came to blowback. He gave Clem a pointed look to put her on alert.
« Last Edit: <09-20-16/0702:40> by Necrogigas »
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farothel

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« Reply #34 on: <09-20-16/0332:30> »
"I'm Sammy," she introduced herself, taking a seat.  The decor looked quite nice and this club had the advantage of being quite discreet.  For now she would await the J's offer.
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Thvor

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« Reply #35 on: <09-20-16/1221:42> »
     The room is set up like an old-fashioned parlor out of a period trid. Two small couches and a variety of comfortable chairs are set up in the room, along with a real wooden dining table, set with a white linen tablecloth and crystal glasses. A real fire in a hearth warms the room, and the flickering firelight sparkles off the crystal on the table. Sitting casually in one chair is a brown-haired human woman with fair skin and blue eyes. She’s wearing a pale-blue tailored suit and some unusual jewelry, including a large dragon-shaped ring. She’s sipping a glass of wine when you enter, but she smiles and stands when the hostess closes the door behind you.

     When she stands to greet you, you realize she’s much taller than a normal human woman, and her slender figure clues you in; she’s an elf. She’s attractive, but not in the same class as that hot hostess outside—until she smiles at you. Her smile lights up her face, transforming her from simply attractive to suddenly stunning.

     “Hello,” she says, greeting you all. “I’m Ms. Johnson. Thanks for meeting on such short notice. Please, sit down.” She waits for everyone to sit and introduce themselves.

Sam followed the group into the room, taking in the decor, but paying special attention to the elf's body language. With a slight bow, he greeted her. "Ms. Johnson, a pleasure. My name is Torley, though I suspect you knew that already." He smiled at her, and took a seat near the fireplace.

[spoiler]OOC: Dunno if it would make any difference, but the intent is that Sam is positioning himself so that the light from the fire doesn't backlight Ms. Johnson, which would make her potentially harder to read.[/spoiler]
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Crossbow

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« Reply #36 on: <09-20-16/2141:02> »
Clem immediately notes that Con is off.  When he enters the room he notes the fireplace, then moves right from the door away from it.  This is notable because the ork had moved right upon entry, and this was the first time the two had ever entered a room together and not moved in separate directions to keep from crossing potential fields of fire.  She was so shocked at his action she almost commented, but then she saw him do something else odd.  When he moved, instinctively, to the closest chair to the Johnson, after little more than a step he changed course to her other side, a tactical mistake for many reasons, but it was furthest from the fireplace.

Torley also noted the behavior, but simply read the unfamiliar fear in his actions, having a magical sense of such things and no tactical wherewith-all to judge anything else.  Mastering his surprise as a matter of course, the thought about his teammate were quickly driven out by the perceptions coming about their potential employer.

There was nothing artificial about her smile, but the was definitely something about her that nagged at the edge of his mind, but the plain bit that he read were the mistakes his team had already made as they sat down.

1) She clearly wanted more from them than merely names, she wanted to assess their capabilities, including their ability to EXPLAIN their capabilities.

2) She clearly knew they were missing someone, and that was a problem for her.

He already knew the final error, but his abilities kept him from registering the self-criticism as she gave voice to it, with no hint to the unaware that there was anything amiss.

"No, why would I?  What connection would we have beyond the job at hand Mister Torley?"

Their connection through the Club was A SECRET, bound in magic.  Clever asides and half unspoken truths would not keep that bond from severing itself from him, from her, and from Sammy.

Necrogigas

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« Reply #37 on: <09-21-16/0746:19> »
O'Connor wanted to sit near the Johnson and the wine classes. In a pinch he could shatter one and use the stem as a shiv. Unfortunately his body forced him to take the seat farthest away from the hearth. By default he was a rather fidgety person when forced to stay in one spot, but at this instance his body language screamed that he was tense and wanted to leave. He tried to give the elf woman his undivided attention, but any time the fire gave a notable pop or crackle he'd wince and look towards the hearth. He'd just as quickly look away back towards the Johnson.
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HydroRaven

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« Reply #38 on: <09-21-16/1059:24> »
Clem quizzically frowned at O'Connor about his strange fidgeting and positioning. The ork looked at the hearth and couldn't find anything odd or otherwise out of place about it. She wondered if the adept had seen something she had missed, something that clearly upset the man, to the point of almost terror.

And then the Johnson made a very strange comment, that got Clem's alarms ringing. *Now why would she go out of her way and make a point of telling us there is absolutely NO connection between them*? She decided to definitely ask him later, when privacy would allow for such a conversation.

All in all, this was a surreal start to a professional meeting...
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Thvor

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« Reply #39 on: <09-21-16/1624:09> »
Sam smiled. "Ma'am, the job at hand is our connection. In our line of work, it is very rare for someone to contact us without having done some research into who we are and what we're capable of. You hardly strike me as the sort to make such a careless mistake; if you were, I assure you that this meeting would be over already." He sat back and sipped from his martini, very much at ease, and clearly not willing to reveal more until the Johnson did.
« Last Edit: <09-21-16/1748:12> by Thvor »
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Crossbow

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« Reply #40 on: <09-21-16/2350:06> »
"Well, I am familiar enough with your group that I know there are supposed to be five of you, beyond that I was simply assured by the fixer who set this up that I would be sent a balanced  team capable of handling the mission I have to see done."  She also seemed at ease to any of the others in the room, Torley still registered her grievance with the introduction, as well as the voiced concern of over Snow's absence.  The secrecy was at least put to bed but there was a hint of amusement at his attempt to assert control of the situation, which she then proceeded to crush.

"As a runner myself, I am very experienced with these types of meetings.  Enough so that I can recognize a young-to-the-shadows Face doing his level best to cover his team's mistakes and his own inexperience with one of the three B's."  Taking the others back into the meeting as an aside, "That would be balls, bravado and bulldrek kids."  It wasn't intended as a rebuke for them, they knew, simply information being passed, with a little theater.

Turning back Torley, "Now, here is how things actually happen in 'our line of work.'  A group of talented and capable amateurs like yourselves who are petitioning for a job that has a large payday would make it CLEAR to the person offering that payday of what they can do to earn it.  Then this generous benefactor determines the value of the skill set and offers as little as they think they can get away with.  Negotiations ensue."

"What doesn't happen is that this wonderful person, let's call her Ms Johnson, puts up with more than a certain level of foolishness before she takes her bankroll elsewhere.  Now, clearly Mr Torley is your social lubricant, possibly covering for some rather uncouth teammates.  What is the form by which the rest of you have decided to let your own personal little Gozers manifest?"

HydroRaven

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« Reply #41 on: <09-22-16/0305:45> »
*Of all the luck...* thought Clem. If there was one thing she hated more than smug Johnsons, it was smug elven Johnsons. The ork, however, knew better than to let that get under her skin and decided to simply reply sarcastically "Besides looking good in my armour, I do muscle, Bullet Storm (saying the name out loud made Clem pause for a moment and realize something) here does the shooting, Torley talks and Starlet takes care of things we commoners can't deal with. And we also have a fifth Heaven's Devil that takes care of things on the trix. Now it's up to you and Torley to hash out what this package is worth to you, as you are the only one that knows your needs at this point."
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farothel

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« Reply #42 on: <09-22-16/0632:46> »
Sammy was used to these kind of meetings, although mostly between producers, directors and actors (or their agents).  She kept an eye on O'Connor, hoping he wouldn't say too much.
"You are right that we number five," she said to the J, "but our matrix specialist had another meeting with a supplier for some new equipment if I recall correctly, or maybe software.  In any case, since that meeting was already set up when this meeting came in, we decided that she would continue with hers and we would do this one, as we might need the equipment for the job and setting up a new meeting with the supplier could be difficult, depending on the timelines for the job you want us to do.  Now, as to me, I'm as you might have guessed, a mage.  Mostly illusions, some healing, stunbolt, things like that."

She also switched her view to the astral for a few seconds to have a look a the Johnson.  While Sammy knew that she was awakened, maybe she could see a bit more.

[spoiler]
quick look at the Ms. Johnson in the astral
intuition 3 + assensing 3 =6: 6d6t5 2
probably not much more.
[/spoiler]
« Last Edit: <09-22-16/1200:56> by farothel »
"Magic can turn a frog into a prince. Science can turn a frog into a Ph.D. and you still have the frog you started with." Terry Pratchett
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Necrogigas

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« Reply #43 on: <09-22-16/0723:26> »
O'Connor elaborated on Clem's statement, "Clem is our tactical leader in combat. Snow, our hacker, also has medical training. While I act as firepower for the team, my real specialty is keeping the enemy's attention on me and off the rest of the team."
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Thvor

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« Reply #44 on: <09-22-16/1050:27> »
Turning back Torley, "Now, here is how things actually happen in 'our line of work.'  A group of talented and capable amateurs like yourselves who are petitioning for a job that has a large payday would make it CLEAR to the person offering that payday of what they can do to earn it.  Then this generous benefactor determines the value of the skill set and offers as little as they think they can get away with.  Negotiations ensue."

How things "actually" happen? You sought us out, and you expect us to come, hat in hand, begging for you to toss us scraps? Sam had interacted with enough high-society types that he recognized the arrogant, "the world owes me everything because I'm me" attitude, but he didn't like it, and wasn't impressed that the Johnson was using it. If this job had come through any other channel, I would tell this lady to take the job and shove it in the same dark hole her head is in, he thought to himself. He was actually surprised that Con didn't.

After the others had given their slightly longer introductions, Sam gestured with his drink and said, "So now you know the roles each of us play. Of course, that doesn't tell you much; most teams have similar compositions, and the only difference being their levels of competency. We could assure you that we are more than capable, but you would not believe us; every group hoping to get a job would claim to be among the best, regardless of the truth. We do not, as a rule, provide references. You must decide whether your fixer's recommendation of us is sufficient testimony to our abilities," ...just as we must decide if your nuyen is worth putting up with your drek, he added silently, the easy smile never leaving his face.

Then his eyes hardened. "We are not the desperate, hand-to-mouth amateurs you describe. If that is the sort of team that you wish to work with, I'm afraid you must look elsewhere. We are not petitioning for a job, as you so delicately put it. We were told that you had an opportunity for us, and so we came to hear what you are offering. Negotiations will only ensue if we feel that we are capable of delivering on your request, and that what you are offering as compensation is close to reasonable. If you try to low-ball us, we have no reason not to walk back through that door and keep going."
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