[Poindexter]

As Breeze was about to jack in he sits up with a start as Hopeless mentions terrorists, "What the hell are retro-futurists? Is that even a word?"

"Buncha jerk-offs, basically wanna go back to the past, but not the past without commlinks and drones and shit, just the past without magic and metas. Been puttin pressure on the school to stop letting in non-humans, defund the magical studies department, that kinda drek." He takes a pause for dramatic effect. "Rumor is, they're funded by policlub humanis, but whoever's bankrollin em, it's someone big. I'd stay outta their way..."

[Horsemen]

Wind smiles, "Is not every day a work day of some kind?" responding to a long standing quip between the two of them.  "I am hoping you can hook me up with a safe house to use - rent from tomorrow through Tuesday that has the living arrangements to hold a group of six for that period."

"Six, Friday through Tuesday? Coulda used more time, I'll see what I can do. Gimme an hour, though I know you only need two minutes. " after finding out whether Wind is need of any special amenities Calisandra disconnects without a word. True to form she sends him a data pack for an address in Crowley forty-eight minutes later. "Enjoy your stay, chummer. "

Wind glanced at the specs and the cost, "You are simply the Best."  Wind attaches a bonus of 200 nuyen to the reply.  He always believed in bonuses when a job was well done even if that meant the party involved was making a profit twice.  It encouraged at the very least business loyalty and in some that was all the believed in.

@All,

12:00 pm, Friday, April 19th, 2075

This early in the day Kendler Park is scantly peopled.  Any stay-at-home parents are out hustling for work, legal or otherwise, and nobody lets their kids just wander around the plex much anymore.  A few high school aged kids hang out under one of the pavilions smoking cigarettes and drinking stashed booze from a backpack.  Whether they're skipping school or don't have classes to go to is anyone's guess.  Over by the plascrete chess tables, a single old man is taking on all comers, mostly retirees like himself.  From the speed they're moving, it looks like three minute blitz games, and the lone player, a balding dwarf with a walrus mustache looks to be handling his opponents easily.  After a few minutes, the losers tip their credsticks to him, and they set up for another game.  The process repeats.

By noon, it's already hit thirty-five Celsius, and the old-timers take to patting their necks with handkerchiefs.  The kids look ready to squab, but they keep to themselves and give the chess players a wide berth.

Wind had gathered up his gear and then taken a taxi to the park to meet with the others, shaking his head as he reviewed the mental list of everything he needed to really get up to speed.  He responded to Loki's text and was the last person picked up among the newly formed team.  An eyebrow rose slightly as he took in the driver and then saw the others.  Climbing in, he shared the burner comm code then added, "I have secured a safe house for our use from now until end of day Tuesday.'

[Poindexter]

Wind had gathered up his gear and then taken a taxi to the park to meet with the others, shaking his head as he reviewed the mental list of everything he needed to really get up to speed.  He responded to Loki's text and was the last person picked up among the newly formed team.  An eyebrow rose slightly as he took in the driver and then saw the others.  Climbing in, he shared the burner comm code then added, "I have secured a safe house for our use from now until end of day Tuesday.'

This Wind fella looks like a class act. I betcha there IS gonna be running water.

Ian relaxes in his seat a bit and gets to constructing AROs, maps of the building the team needs access to, as best he can from memory. It'd be nice to watch the world go by again, but there's more pressing matters to attend to.

[rednblack]

Hopeless is more than halfway done with reconstructing his AROs by the time the group finally leaves the Dallas sprawl behind.  With so many people working such long hours, everyone in turn wonders why the hell these assholes aren't at work, but there they are, clogging up the interstates with their dead-eye stares and glitchy GPSs.  The BMW, by contrast, drives like a dream, for the time that it's actually moving.  And when it isn't, it glides to a stop so smooth that when Loki sees that they've only traveled fifteen miles in the first hour his surprise is the only emotion that rivals his disgust.  The constant construction on 35 seems to really throw off some of the cheaper automobiles who must've let their GridGuide subscription lapse, but again, the Beamer makes all the right turns at all the right times, and eventually, finally, the crew finds its way south of the plex and on the open road, where the speeds increase to a more respectable 60 kph

The rest of the ride is rather smooth, and once the car is maintaining constant forward momentum, the team relaxes a bit, even talks, and Hopeless finishes his work in time to watch the world pass by the passenger windows.  When they finally come up on College Station, one of the first things that hits them is that they're no longer the nicest car on the road.  Sure, the edges of CS are dotted with some seedy strip malls for the groundskeeper crowd, and the cheapest of the apartments sit so close to the highway that the traffic is within spitting distance of the third-floor residents, but once they make their way deeper into the city it's all shopping malls, rows and rows of bars, and hotels -- the kinds with pools -- and more than one restaurant that literally sits on stilts to overlook campus.  Student and faculty housing is plain, minimized, and obviously does not fit with the state vision for College Station.  Everyone here looks youthful, healthy, and like they have no idea what the rest of their lives hold for them.

WELCOME TO AGGIELAND!

[Blazrath]

Marcus would roll his eyes as the go-gangers said for him to watch his back. He would sigh and get to the bar the long way, heading up to the room to sleep on the couch. It was a lot better than nothing. When he woke up, he would clean himself a little to look a little better than yesterday, change his clothes and pack a bag full of stuff that he would need for this. He would stop by the Surfer Shack to get something to munch on and then get the burner comm to bring to the meet. He would then roll up on the meet, give his team members the new info for the comm link to keep in contact with them and ride all the way behind them to the city. While a van is always good for bulk travel and keeping bags and such in store, sometimes in runs like these you want something small and fast to make a run with the goods to get out of dodge faster.

[martinchaen]

On the way down to College Station Loki internally debated doing some Astral recon of the campus. "What's another Astral form on campus; not like they can keep track of every single soul that crosses the grounds, surely?" He thought about the events back in Cara'Sir when the Vory had finally cornered him. "They must have found me somehow; either they had snitches on the ground or they were able to track me astrally, somehow... Frag it, might as well get some work done." He turned around in his seat and addressed the others. "Hey guys, I'm going to take a look at the campus from the ethereal plane, so I'll be out of it for a while." With a grin, he added "Don't go anywhere!" and then slumped over in his seat as the car went on driving itself to it's destination near the town center.

As the real world slipped away and was replaced by the comforting embrace of the Astral, Loki looked around and spotted a man sitting nearby. "Come, I have need of you!" he told the creature, and imparted a mental image of the Applied Magic lab on the A&M campus to it, telling him to find it for him. In an instant, the man had transformed into a one-eyed raven, and as the creature sped away into the astral Loki followed close behind, never losing sight of it.

After what had felt like half of an eternity, Loki found himself high above the A&M campus, the bird having returned to it's humanoid shape. "Good work. Wait here until I return; if I leave this place you may go about your business." He slowly floated towards the ground, making sure to get a good look at the building ahead of him, paying special attention to any wards that might have been placed on it. Seeing none, he simply followed another form through the door on the first floor, and paused for a second, taking in the scenery of souls. "Hmm, what a smorgasbord of choice!" he though as he began surveying the crowd for a potential target. Spotting his prey sitting at what was probably a desk in the real world, but just looked like a grey, featureless shadow in the Astral, Loki began gathering mana around him carefully. He shaped thin tendrils of raw ethereal force into the persons mind, and prepared for the inevitable shock of linking with another beings consciousness.


Seconds after he had established the link, Loki had gotten what he'd come for, and he made sure to carefully erase the imprints of his tampering on the person sitting in front of him. With luck, and Loki had always been lucky, the man would blame some bratty college student for trying to get the answers to a test or something. He quickly made his way outside the building, and before long had the spirit who'd been patiently waiting find it's way back to his body, still resting peacefully in the BMW. Dismissing the spirit, he returned to his body, and prepared to tell the team of his discoveries.


Some time later the team would arrive in College Station, and Loki would head straight for the largest semi-upscale mall unless anyone had specific request for where they wanted to be dropped off. By the time he'd parked the car, it's tinted windows hiding him from outside vision, he'd once again have changed his features. This time he kept the changes small, however; still youthful and in the same clothes, he made himself look like some of the Tir Tairngire high-born he'd seen on the trids back in Cara'Sir. Noble cheekbones, prominent, hawkish nose, perfectly smooth skin. As he walked he straightened up from his casual slouch, walking as if the whole world should take notice.


After a short while in the mall he had found his mark. A lovely little latina elf shopping for punk clothes at the All-N, whatever that was, and Loki made his move by striding right up to her and introducing himself in Sperethiel.

"Telegit thelemsa" he said, and was pleasantly surprised when she replied in the traditional form.

"Siselle. Thelemsa-ha." She smiled at him, and he introduced himself as Se'ranshae, a visitor from Tir Tairngire who was looking at schools, and asked for her name. "I've heard great things about A&M, Car'la" he said, deliberately mispronouncing her name as if it was Sperethiel, "and I couldn't help but notice that you are wearing their colours. Come, join me for lunch. I would like to ask you some questions if you have the time." He made sure to smile at the right times, giving her elbow a moderately affectionate but reassuring touch now and again, and used her name frequently as they walked. He inquired what place had the best food around here, and had her lead the way. Once seated, he carefully began asking questions about the magical arts program, working his way to the Applied Magic lab. "I've heard rumours they use Hellhounds as guards; is that really true? I'd love to see one in the flesh one of these days. Magnificent creatures, or so I've been told." He chitchatted about life in College Station, and delicately asked about the equipment the school had available. "I heard they recently installed a new state-of-the-art medical dispenser. What was it... A Liftech? Is the rest of their equipment on par with this?" He hoped she would know the brand, and one way or another be able to confirm or deny what he'd asked.

As the conversation went on he found himself actually enjoying her company, and spent as much time with her as she would allow.

[Poindexter]

He turned around in his seat and addressed the others. "Hey guys, I'm going to take a look at the campus from the ethereal plane, so I'll be out of it for a while." With a grin, he added "Don't go anywhere!" and then slumped over in his seat as the car went on driving itself to it's destination near the town center.

Damn...

The first time Ian had ever spoken with a spirit, he asked it all about it's home, the astral. He'd heard that mages could transfer their minds there and fly at the speed of thought through it's wondrous landscape, and now that he could see it and talk to it's denizens, Ian was sure that's what he was; a mage. The idea of being a decker had really appealed to him as a kid. The blazing fast brain against the whole world thing had been portrayed as the most glamorous life in the world by the trids he'd watched through the windows of stores in his youth. But even then, he knew that you needed a sizable investment to be a decker, and no one was ever gonna make that kind of investment in a kid like him. He gave up on those dreams really quick. But the idea that he was a mage!? Soaring through the astral would be just as good- no, better than the matrix! He couldnt wait to learn how to do it. A few months of study later, and he learned he was aspected; a summoner and no more, no matter how much he studied. He was crushed. He'd always be able to see the great astral plane laid out before him, and could talk for hours on end about it with the spirits that lived there, but he could never go, not really. Not the way that elf with the nice clothes, the gorgeous car, and the way with words could go.

He leans his head against the window and lets his eyes unfocus, pretending the blur from the road is the matrix streaking by.

Damn...

[reyjinn]

Breeze slips into the comfortable currents of the matrix, Retro-futurism, the things people invent in order to not admit their fucking prejudice. Damn, the highway is way more pretty from this point of view… wait what the fuck was I planning on doing here, oh yeah, right.

<<to: Archive>>
<<Hey. I took the job you pushed my way, thanks for that by the way. I need a quote on 1. Blueprints of the Applied Magics Lab at Texas A&M&M 2. Schematics for the Renraku B-43 medical dispenser. N.b. quote and timeframe only, will need to confer with rest of team before accepting terms.>>

>>setarray.(2544)
>>gridhop.(local)
>>setarray.(2454)
>>loadprogram.(SignalScrub,Toolbox)
>>quicksearch.(Texas A&M&M, Renraku, donation, B-43)
Hmm, I should try and dig a little deeper on this.
>>search.(Texas A&M&M, Renraku, donation, B-43)
That’s more like it, now who is this Renraku hand puppet.
>>quicksearch.(Dr. Leonard Drampe)
>>search.(Dr. Leonard Drampe)
Huh, seems he isn’t an influential member of the College Station Brony club after all. Too bad. Now let’s see if I can find anything about who is who at the labs and maybe if we can get to those blueprints without breaking the school host open.
>>quicksearch.(Texas A&M&M, Applied Magics Lab, director*, head of*)
>>quicksearch.(College Station, municipality offices, department of building and housing)

Breeze slips back from VR just to hear that bloody technodribble still blaring over the stereo, Fuck this, RETREAT, back to the bunkers! Breeze then spends the rest of the trip pouring over the various technical sheets of lock designs he has accrued over time.

[rednblack]

@Breeze,

Breeze leaves behind the humming car and immerses himself fully into the matrix.  He does his best to ignore the pop-ups vying for his attention, and gets straight to work on his quarry.

>>search.(Texas A&M&M, Renraku, donation, B-43)

None of the articles go into any more depth than to say "equipment" when it comes to what Renraku has donated to the various colleges at Texas A&M&M, but what's this?  Breeze magnifies a picture of a smiling dr. Drampe, pulls in over his right shoulder, and yes, that is a B-43 in the background of the image.  He figured as much, but it's always nice to have confirmation.  Well, he'd have rather confirmed a Heron, but still nice to know what one is up against.

Now, about Dr. Drampe.  Chair of the Applied Magics Program, undergraduate work at UW, Masters and PhD from MIT where his thesis work focused on applied sigil construction for Manipulation Magic.  It appears as though Dr. Drampe has spent his entire professional life in academia, and he's been running the program at Texas A&M&M for fifteen years.  On "paper" the guy looks next to flawless, but Breeze is able to find two references to income irregularities that were investigated by the CAS.  Charges were never filed.

Similarly, most of the Magical Studies faculty have impressive CVs and extensive academic experience.  Of note, Dr. Sue Owlfeather's primary area of research is in astral space as a therapeutic aid.  Upon closer inspection Breeze finds in her list of publications a paper titled: "Hope for Mundanes: Chemically Induced Astral Perception and the Mind-Body Connection."  Breeze downloads pics of the noteworthy faculty before Magic Studies Department behind and focusing his attention on the more concrete aspect of the job.

From the public grid, Breeze is able to get a list of items under the care of the College Station Municipal Grid.  Paydata this is good.  First off, the Municipal grid looks a little, well, under-protected, and second, records show the filing of blueprints for every building on campus.  Breeze pops his virtual knuckles before setting in for some real fun.

@Loki,

In astral space, the campus opens up wide before him.  From this vantage he can see the vibrancy of the quad's grass, slightly dulled to its overly-manicured and pesticide-ridden treatments.  The campus is abuzz with life as students walk to and from class, and some of their auras practically scream at him.  Definitely some talent on this campus.  As he approaches the Applied Magics Lab, it becomes more difficult for Loki to discern what's inside.  The entire building is shrouded in a bluish haze.  Loki tells his spirit companion to wait as he tries to gain entry, but proves too much, its force repelling his astral presence. 

Not one to be easily deterred, Loki tries again with more success.  He wills his presence to be smooth, almost liquid, and the barrier is much more permeable on his second attempt.  From inside the AML, he looks for an unawakened target.  This proves difficult at first, as all of the students and faculty exude magical energy, and the janitorial and security staff are too busy with their day-to-day work to be of much use to him.  In the break room, though, Loki finds a guard absently eating his lunch, and he adroitly probes the subject's consciousness for information.

God-damned fucking nutri-soy bullshit.  Every day.  And I gotta work a double?  Move those fraggin' hellhounds up to the fourth floor in two separate elevator trips.  I should be getting hazard pay for this.  And why the hell is McCormack giving me the names of these gits.  Really?  Princess and Bunny on the west hall, while Sophie takes the east.  They all look the same to me.  "Be sure to leave Tex on the third floor."  Whatever, McCormack.  Why don't you get off your wide fraggin' ass, and do some of the heavy lifting yourself.  I hate that fraggin' ork.  One'a these days I'm gonna visine his soykaf.  I wonder what Joe's making for dinner tonight?  The new "Antebellum Gunsmith" should be on tonight.  At least that's one thing to look forward to. . .

"Oh my God," Carla says over a soyburger in the mall food court.  that would be so great if you came here.  I mean, the faculty is just like super knowledgeable, and the TAs are just wiz.  Who's showing you the campus while you're here?  Is it Dr. Ken.  I hope it's Dr. Ken.  He's just nova with the students, ya know?  Who's with you on this trip?  Did you take your parents along, or some friends?  Hey, if you're not doing anything later, a few of us MS kids are getting together for a party.  Would you like to come? I hope you don't mind me saying this, but your aura is just so bright, ya know?  I mean, wow."

Carla's eyes light up when Loki mentions the hellhounds.  "They usually keep them locked up during the day, but last semester they brought them out for a class.  I mean, I knew they were big, but I was not prepared.  It was just nova.  We got to touch them and stuff.  I mean, the handler was right there, but the feeling you get when you put your hands on a creature like that.  So cool."

Carla doesn't seem to have much information on the security, born of someone who's lived her life in the enclaves, and lets other worry about stuff like that.  "I don't know, really." she says.  "There's like, this study, that my friend Felicity is helping running, but it really just sounds like and excuse for a lot of the townies to get high all day.  Kinda lame, really, but she's enjoying it, I guess."

Near the end of their meal, Loki's comm buzzes:

>>Incoming Message
>>Sender: Dadlez
>>Message Contents: Data Pack
>>Data Pack Contents:
>>Dr. Leonard Drampe (Chair of Magical Studies Program)
>> Dr Sue Owlfeather (Full Professor)
>> Dr. Ozhun Olgar (Associate Professor)
>> Felicity Rhoades (TA)
>> Jaime Garcia (TA)
>> Cheyenne Villalobos (TA)
>> Josef Antar (TA)
>> Odysseus Max
>>Expected Response time to unwarranted Intrusions: 215 seconds

[rednblack]

Around the time the group pulls into College Station Breeze's com buzzes.

>>Incoming Message
>>Sender: Archive
>>Message: 1'11 c what I can do. What's the best place for a shooter?

[Blazrath]

Marcus, feeling himself fatigued after the drive, would pull off into a diner for some food. He'd probably had enough to get a cup of some soy-coffee and what could pass off as peach cobbler if he closed his eyes. He wouldn't be too far from the college, so he might be around some students or even have one of them working in the diner. He would just drink his coffee and listen, something that he was good at. Mostly he was listening for some way to get in the college without looking out of place, maybe as a party goer or a girl's conquest. He probably got looks when he got into the city on his Harley and parked it at the diner.

[reyjinn]

Breeze jacks out of the matrix when they enter College Station, Jeez, there could be a lot of dosh in it for a decent B&E guy in this place. Fucking stinks of money. As they arrive at the safehouse Breeze unloads his gear from the car and brings it inside, "Yo, Hopie! You up for doing some recon on the labs once we’ve gotten settled in here? Really want to see what it looks like once they’ve locked it down for the night but I can’t see any of that astral shit they supposed to have going on."

Breeze sets his bag in one of the corners of the main room and then makes his way over to Wind calling for Loki, "Loki! Join us for a moment if you’d be so kind. So, I managed to wrangle some information you guys might find useful about the top dogs at the labs. Head honcho is this guy named Drampe specializes in manipulation magic it seems but hasn’t done much if any work outside of the school system, been here for around 15 years or so. Didn’t have time to dig up any real dirt on him but he seems to be rather too creative about his finances, probably kickbacks from ‘Raku or something. Might be able to track down something more solid but I don’t know if it would really be of any use to us."

"Now someone who is of interest to us is this chick Owlfeather, she apparently runs the trials they’re having with the ‘Weed. Well, from what I understand of how that stuff work it would make sense at least. She is apparently really concerned about us poor folks who can’t peek into astral."

"I’ve also confirmed that they are using the Renraku monster as a dispenser so securing legit access codes would be very welcome, that thing looks like a bitch to crack. We need bio if we’re going to get admin access without me trying to hack the thing. Other than that we can always default to the trusty method of chainsaw but that’ll bring all sorts of new problems to deal with."

At this point Breeze leans up against a wall so he can view the whole team speaking a bit louder, "Now, I’ve got a question for you all to ponder. How do you fellas feel about us, me perhaps in particular, taking some small risks that might bring in extra paydata? If shit absolutely hits the fan it could bring some heat on us but I would consider that an unlikely outcome."

[rednblack]

The BMW winds its way to the safehouse, going further and further from the city center.  No highways around here, and no real law either.  Pretty soon, the BMW is the nicest car on the road again, as the team makes its way through what used to be a nice little suburb.  The houses are well-spaced but derelict.  From the car window, Wind makes out the muddy remains of a small lake with the burned-out wreckage of some sort of sedan mired in its center.  The occasional ork child regards the group wearily as they pass.

Once they hit the address, the team feels a little nervous.  They pull into the driveway of what was once a nice, moderately-sized house, but now the garage door is off its tracks, and the place looks anything but secure.  An ork with a shock of red hair opens the door and comes out to greet them.  "Hoi.  If y'all wanna park that whip out back, that would probably be for the best.  I'm Jules, and here are the keys."  Jules takes the team through the house, and they feel a bit better.  While the garage isn't hard to access, there is a hardened steel door that separates it from the house proper, and Jules points out the bulletproof glass in all the windows.  The living room has a trid as well as a monitor that shows the cctv set around the premises, something the team didn't notice as they pulled in.  Nice.  The amenities are a little less comfortable, though.  The place does indeed have running water, and a working water heater, but the carpeting is covered in muddy footprints, and the couch looks a bit funky.  There's a smell to the place too, and if anyone had to guess, they'd think this place was last used less than a week ago. 

@Dantes,

Dantes pulls into the diner parking lot, and notices he's the only one bike-bound, much less riding a Harley.  Inside the place is welcoming, though, half-full with wage slaves of the blue collar stripe.  The corner table is full of construction workers, who are a bit rowdy, but the waitress is friendly with them, and Dantes would guess that they've been regulars for awhile now.  He's halfway through his soykaf when a group of Texas A&M students, obviously slumming, enter and take some spots next to him at the bar.  They're all wearing blue jumpsuits, and one of them motions to the group of construction workers, and makes some comment about "tuskers" eating with humans. The group in the corner table pretends to ignore them, as does the staff, as as the group continues their meal, Dantes overhears some idle chatter about a demonstration that is being planned for Monday. 

@Breeze and Hopeless,

Early evening has not slowed down campus at all.  On the quad, a number of students play frisbee, surf the matrix, and otherwise entertain themselves.  They hear some talk about Floe-Free, an Atlanta-based DJ who is putting on a show in the University Center, and from their vantage they see that the last class gets released from the AML at around 8:00, when the building's doors are locked.  Security on campus is present, but looks light, with the occasional foot and mounted patrol making their way across campus.  Nobody seems to pay the two much mind.

[Poindexter]

The ride down was almost relaxing. After finishing up the maps and sending them to everyone's burners, Ian had had time to think, relax, and daydream about nothing for a couple hours before they arrived. A few times, he was tempted to surf the matrix a bit, look up some new music, or find some crappy QuickGames to play, but each time, he reminded himself, Nothing to even point at you, dude and decided against it. None of the other men talked much on the way down, and Ian found himself getting into his paranoid thoughts again.

What are you even HERE for? You're the inside man. Not the man who's here cause of a skill or ability, but cause you're convenient to the mission. You know what happens to those guys in the trids, right? They get hung out to dry at the end of the job, chummer. LOOK at these guys! You think this buncha nova motherfuckers is gonna wanna split a payday with the likes of you? You need to start comin up with an exit strategy right the frak NOW.

The BMW winds its way to the safehouse, going further and further from the city center.  No highways around here, and no real law either.  Pretty soon, the BMW is the nicest car on the road again, as the team makes its way through what used to be a nice little suburb.  The houses are well-spaced but derelict.  From the car window, Wind makes out the muddy remains of a small lake with the burned-out wreckage of some sort of sedan mired in its center.  The occasional ork child regards the group wearily as they pass.

Once they hit the address, the team feels a little nervous.  They pull into the driveway of what was once a nice, moderately-sized house, but now the garage door is off its tracks, and the place looks anything but secure.  An ork with a shock of red hair opens the door and comes out to greet them.  "Hoi.  If y'all wanna park that whip out back, that would probably be for the best.  I'm Jules, and here are the keys."  Jules takes the team through the house, and they feel a bit better.  While the garage isn't hard to access, there is a hardened steel door that separates it from the house proper, and Jules points out the bulletproof glass in all the windows.  The living room has a trid as well as a monitor that shows the cctv set around the premises, something the team didn't notice as they pulled in.  Nice.  The amenities are a little less comfortable, though.  The place does indeed have running water, and a working water heater, but the carpeting is covered in muddy footprints, and the couch looks a bit funky.  There's a smell to the place too, and if anyone had to guess, they'd think this place was last used less than a week ago. 

Wow, this place is perfect. I mean, yeah, it's kinda smelly, but fuck it. I can't wait to get a shower and get outta these clothes.

Hopeless slaps backhands with Jules and introduces himself. He briefly considers using a piece of Or'zet street slang for "friend" but at the last second, remembers that if pronounced incorrectly, it sounds a lot like street slang for "homosexual" and so decides against it. "Hopeless, Wiz?" he says while tilting his head back a bit, to appear more confident, as he's found orks tend to see submission as a sign of disrespect. Can't hurt to make a good impression on a guy with at least one safehouse to rent, right?

As they arrive at the safehouse Breeze unloads his gear from the car and brings it inside, "Yo, Hopie! You up for doing some recon on the labs once we’ve gotten settled in here? Really want to see what it looks like once they’ve locked it down for the night but I can’t see any of that astral shit they supposed to have going on."

Hopi? Ian looks around at his team. Did I miss something?

Oh, me? Ummm...

Shit. I mean, yeah. you KNEW you were going back on the campus under all those cameras sooner or later, so it's all good. This was a thing you knew was gonna happen. It's gonna be all gravy, dude. Gravy.

"Ummm, sure. Just lemme.." He glances back and forth to the bathroom door. "Lemme, y'know... clean up and get, like, some... some different clothes on, y'know?" He takes a few steps toward the door, then stops and turns back when he hears Breeze calling everyone together.

Breeze sets his bag in one of the corners of the main room and then makes his way over to Wind calling for Loki, "Loki! Join us for a moment if you’d be so kind. So, I managed to wrangle some information you guys might find useful about the top dogs at the labs. Head honcho is this guy named Drampe specializes in manipulation magic it seems but hasn’t done much if any work outside of the school system, been here for around 15 years or so. Didn’t have time to dig up any real dirt on him but he seems to be rather too creative about his finances, probably kickbacks from ‘Raku or something. Might be able to track down something more solid but I don’t know if it would really be of any use to us."

Fuckin' Drampe. Elitist motherfucker, throwing his accusatory bullshit around and poking into other people's private business.

Ian still hated that frakkin guy, even ten years later. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a tiny part of him suspected Drampe of having something to do with the attack. Ian was damn near giddy at the idea of getting to slot over his old nemesis, and gained a sudden clarity of focus and purpose in his words and mannerisms.

"Yeah, Drampe is a piece of shit. People been wonderin bout where his money comes from for a long time, but no one knows anything. Honestly, if there's a way to implicate him in this thing here, I say we do it, even if just as a red herring for anyone trying to track us down. Not to mention, if he IS sitting on some undocumented funds, then I feel like some of that is supposed to be ours, y'know?"

At this point Breeze leans up against a wall so he can view the whole team speaking a bit louder, "Now, I’ve got a question for you all to ponder. How do you fellas feel about us, me perhaps in particular, taking some small risks that might bring in extra paydata? If shit absolutely hits the fan it could bring some heat on us but I would consider that an unlikely outcome."

Ian is exited at the idea of more money, but feels like it's not his place to weigh in on the risks others are going to take. After all, it's not him putting his delicate brain-meat on the line for money. He excuses himself to the shower.

Early evening has not slowed down campus at all.  On the quad, a number of students play frisbee, surf the matrix, and otherwise entertain themselves.  They hear some talk about Floe-Free, an Atlanta-based DJ who is putting on a show in the University Center, and from their vantage they see that the last class gets released from the AML at around 8:00, when the building's doors are locked.  Security on campus is present, but looks light, with the occasional foot and mounted patrol making their way across campus.  Nobody seems to pay the two much mind.

Ian has the brim of his beige bucket hat pulled down as far as he can without looking suspicious. He just DOESN'T wanna get ID'd by one of these cameras. Walking lazily, and with his hands in the pockets of his faded blue jeans, he blends in well with the crowd. Although the slang and mannerisms have changed a bit in ten years, he's able to pick it up in no time, causing him to wonder, not for the first time, if his theater training might be more useful than his magical training in the long run. Floe-Free, huh? I wonder if that's FreeFlo from back in the day? Kept telling that dude he needed to change it to something else. Be nice to hear him spin again, but...The hat was keeping the sun out of his eyes, but it was sticking his hair to his head with sweat.

I REALLY wish I had taken that stage makeup class. he thought, as he wiped the sweat from under the hatband with one hand.

As they walk through the area, Ian slowly opens his third eye to have a look around, just the way he'd been taught, feeling the familiar landscape of the astral plane filling his mind.

Ok now. Let's take another look at this place...

[rednblack]

@Hopeless and Breeze,

Hopeless takes a quick trip down by the bulletin boards, and sure enough, there's an ARO of FreeFlo, though he's working a much nicer set of tables than the last time Ian laid eyes on him.  Well, he changed his name alright, even if the new moniker wasn't exactly what Ian had in mind when he made the suggestion.

As they walk through the area, Ian slowly opens his third eye to have a look around, just the way he'd been taught, feeling the familiar landscape of the astral plane filling his mind.

Ok now. Let's take another look at this place...

The campus opens itself up to Hopeless.  Decking be damned, this is hard to beat.  He notes a surprising lack of awakened auras around him.  Even when the students pour out of the AML, Hopeless isn't impressed, though, wait, he spots one, maybe two auras in the group that seem familiar to him.  Instinctively, he pulls the hat closer around his face.

There seems to a definite lack of any astral presence on the campus itself.  No watchers, and no real wards except around the AML and the Campus Security Office across campus, which appear as hazy blocked off masses.  On the south side of the quad a group of students with obvious cyberware who are exuding confusion, frustration, and a general lack of direction have gathered.