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[Shadowrun] Blood Sugar Sex Magic


Krul

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Today, the head of the Draco Foundation, Nadja Daviar, flew into Seattle on her private jet, at which point she was quietly conducted to the Emerald Citadel, where she was to meet with your team, each of whom had been directed to a very private room underground, where there was a single line from the Big D's will upon the wall, and one that seemed, odd, considering that it was too late to met the requirements of this bestowal, Aztlan certainly hadn't met the requirements within a year of the bequest.

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To the Aztechnology corporation, I leave the Sexton of Worlds, with the provision that the corporation and the government of Aztlan ban the practice of blood magic in territories under their jurisdiction within a year of my death and submit to an outside investigation to verify this ban, the investigator to be designated by and answerable to the Draco Foundation.

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Once everyone was gathered in the room, it was actually a quite nice room, with cushioned seats and couches, and a large screen that covered one wall, it seemed more like a living room then a meeting room, there was plenty of room for everyone to take a seat as they pleased, or not if they prefered. The room was competely empty of recording devices, however, other then what the team themselves carried.

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Nadja entered the room herself, alone, and stopped to stand in front of the room, making sure to chose a spot that she could meet everyone's eyes. "You may wonder what this is about, if those of you with recording devices, either carried or cyberware would please turn them off, this information is highly sensitive." Once everyone acted on her request, she continued.

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"In the past few years, a few of the more unusual items left with regards to Dunkalzahn's will or in his horde and not mentioned, have gone missing, a few years ago, the Sextant of Worlds was one of them, it was stolen in transport. We had suspects, but no real certainty, until now. During the war with Amazonia, Aztlan made use of a powerful ritual to block the magic of the great dragon Sirrurg when they managed to pin him down in the later days of the war. This ritual would have failed if not for the use of the artifact, we were able to trace that it was being used, but they hid it somewhere afterward."

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She paused to allow you to take in that information. "This is what I want you to do, find out where they are keeping this artifact, retrieve the artifact... and destroy the facility where they kept it." She glanced over at Red a moment. "Do not harm any innocents in the process, and I consider children and anyone not directly involved in the thief and use of this artifact innocent in this matter. I do not consider blood mages or any guards of the facility that they are keeping it as such. Questions?"

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There is another bequest of Dunkalzahn's that matters in this situation

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To further encourage an end to the use of blood magic by Aztechnology and other parties, I offer a bounty of 1 million nuyen on any blood mages captured alive and delivered to the Dunkelzahn Institute of Magical Research for the purposes of studying the effects of blood magic use on metahumanity. I further authorize the Draco Foundation to provide suitable rewards for the receipt of verifiable accounts of blood magic use, the rewards to reflect the usefulness of the information provided.

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Sakurako was someone who took keen interest in the initial mission profile. Thing is, this opening gambit was not very forthcoming.

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"Well for starters are we going to be heading to South America? Or going down the gullet of Aztlan itself?" Sakurako asked, pushing aside her short-cut white hair. Her clothes were a bit dirty from maintaining some of her vehicles over the past couple of days. "To be honest if this "Sextant of Worlds" has vanished, it could be anywhere in that region."

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"What we need is a lead. Something we can start this chase off with."

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Sakurako wasn't a detective... not by a long-shot, but to her this request made the most sense.

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"That and I'm thinking I might need a few clips of APDS for my M23. If we're going to do some jungle cruise, I'm bringing an added insurance policy. Everything else is all set."

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"We are certain that the information is to be had in Tenochtitlan, either someone there knows, or it can be found in their local matrix. It is bound to be very high security, but between the talents of this team, I'm sure you can track that information down and find out what you need. You should know we've hired three regular shadowrunning teams in order to confirm this information, and two of the teams were completely lost, 100% casualties, and the third team one took serious loses. We know that the information is there based on what they have brought back to us, and we've confirmed that they have a facility that they are storing the Sextant, but it's clear that sending anyone less then our best is a losing proposition."

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"Trick, Steal, Seduce, raid their data files, or use magic to mind probe your target, I don't care how you do it, just find out where they are keeping the Sextant and get it back... also, don't get yourselves killed in the process, this year is going to be busy, there are other matters that are needing your expertise. And for those of you worried about funding, I'll add 500,000 nuyen to each of your accounts upon successful completion of this assignment."

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Red was in his usual place for such meetings, having been there before anyone else had shown up, laying on his back on a couch that was at the back of the conference room, smiling distantly up at the ceiling with his hands folded behind his head. He hadn't acknowledged Daviar as she entered, but then that was hardly unusual - she knew he knew she was there. At the other end of his long legs in their tight black pants, a foot tapped the air in rhythm to something or other: probably some inner music. The white-skinned man grinned his wide, white-toothed smile at Nadja's injunction about innocents, which was the first sign he'd given to anyone that he was listening or, indeed, that he even realised there was anyone in the room with him.

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Abruptly he sat up, going from one posture to the other with that flickering quickness that those who had worked with him were somewhat used to. The vampire's body didn't get cramped, or strained, or tired, or used to a certain posture. People in the Emerald Citadel still spoke of the 'cafeteria statue' incident, when a grinning Red had waited by the entrance to the food hall so that he would have been staring and grinning his shark's grin at everyone that entered... and stayed there for a day or two. It had quite put people off their food.

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Apparently he'd been protesting the lack of a 72" trid console in his quarters and the fact he wasn't allowed 'guests'. Which was another word for prostitutes. Some compromise had evidently been reached.

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"Tenochtitlan." The word rolled off his tone in that deep, velvety voice that could be bottled... if it wasn't for what he usually used it for. "Blood magic, salsa music, gladiatorial combat, and donkey shows. Here I come."

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"Remember what I said about innocents." Daviar put a little steel into her voice.

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"I also remember we are supposed to trick, seduce, and raid data files." The Red Man responded, his smile widening enough that the tips of his fangs were visible, an unnerving expression as well he knew. "Tell me, Ms Daviar. If I seduce some poor Aztechnology secretary and she later dies when they seek someone to blame, will that count as breaking your condition?"

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"Probably'll have human shields too," mused the redhead elf sitting way over as close to the door as she could without quite violating courtesy. It wasn't that she didn't want to be there. It was just more efficient to minimize the walk in and out. "I'll bring some taze-clips. Mmm...narcogrenades. On the list."

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She was clad in a kind of weird getup...a green pair of straps that might have been kind of sexy like a swimsuit if that was all she was wearing, but then under it was a striped midriff-length t-shirt which spoiled that effect. And she had shorts, brown ones, and some kind of purple, opaque fishnet stockings. It looked a little like she started getting dressed and changed her mind midway through, but didn't take the first clothes off before putting on the others.

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A hacker, who had pretty much stopped going by any other name than her handle, 'Death Otter,' the elf had an air of being both hyperaware and constantly distracted. She tended to talk fast, in short little bursts, and seldom directed her comments at anyone in particular who was physically present.

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"Hey, Nadja, slot me the reports from those other runners. Stupid to waste time on stuff they already did. Itinerary too. Contact info. Set me up, girl."

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jqqct4.jpg

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*She might just let me eat you if you go snacking on secretaries, y'know.* Shae teased over her comlink to Red, a grin playing across her face as she lounged cross-legged in one of the large meeting chairs.

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She was a fashionably casual counterpoint to Death Otter and seemed as equally at ease in the room as Red, though she'd just barely made it in before Nadja arrived. Aloud she asked, "Anything specific we should know about the Sextant? I mean, stuff not in the dossier?" Opalescent eyes blinked curiously at the ultimate head of the Draco Foundation, "Also, why do we need to destroy wherever they were keeping it? Is it just records, in which case do we need to track down anyone that's been involved with it, too, or does it have some effect on the location it's in? Or something else? Just so we know if it's a blow up and run scenario or if we need to do something more complicated."

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Shae's Outfit
ShaeOutfit_zps2c26a63a.png
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“If I’m not allowed to seduce anyone due to moral outrage, I shouldn’t bother going.” Saori was slouched in a chair, her posture indicating a sensual boredom. It was hard for her to not be sensual, after years of practicing her craft. Her black Zoé dress was the height of fashion, elegant yet visually simple.

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Despite her voluptuous pose, Saori was making quiet observations. For all her teammates’ confidence, Nadja was very intent on seeing the Sextant’s return. Of course, the fact that she’d sent three teams before them… Saori internally shook her head, pitying the poor bastards who’d gone in first and found that they didn’t have a chance in hell. But the elven head of Draco had always been a bit uptight about Big-D, and she was likely taking the loss of the device personally. Saori had assumed they were lovers before his death—though that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the mission.

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“So will Red and I be allowed to seduce to our fullest extent, or do you want us to accomplish the mission by ‘playing nice’?” Saori’s disdain for that concept was clear in her voice.

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Endeavor went over in her head, a few times the potential entryways into Tenochitlan.

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"Acapulco."

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The word was sudden and jarring when it left her lips. "We can fly there and use the cover of being on vacation to hide our true purpose of getting to Tenochitlan. Which is far more inland, but not too far."

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"I know of a few old over-ocean smuggling routes that can be flown. It'll be a few stops, but not many."

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She sat back. "We will need passports, false identities, perhaps an occasional fishing boat or smuggler watch our flightpath in case something does go wrong to Alcapulco, and we're going to need to rustle up a couple friendly faces in Acapulco to help get us to our destination. I can also make the aircraft have any markings we want... on demand."

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"Of course I as of yet am still trying to figure out if we will treat as a stop on our "itenerary" or to be where we will base ourselves and arrive in Tenochitlan a different way. Once we get there, we should expect that Aztlan's watchdogs will be on full watch, and more than likely somehow they will catch wind of us showing up."

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Straightening the utility vest she was wearing, a couple of her car tools in a pocket, she cleared her throat. "Not to insult the memories of our fallen chummers, but this mission is probably compromised the moment we head out. I don't know much about mojo, but I know it does wonders for interrogation. Then they geek you."

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Ryan's "Eyes" currently green as it was a non combat situation narrowed slightly, the only outward sign his face ever showed of emotion. "So you want us to avoid collateral damage among humans, but destroy where they are keeping the artifact? Are we supposed to evacuate the building first, or do we assume they're all guards, all aware of what is there, and whatever goes on there?'

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He looked Directly at her. "Blowing up a building nearly always leads to casualties, I know you're aware of that, so I want to know how far you want it to go."

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He was dressed in a simple black suit, though the chair he sat in groaned under the weight of his metallic frame. He was already cataloguing what gear he'd need to handle this mission, and hoped somoene else had more than grenades, as that wasn't likely to be enough.

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*Oh, sweet child, you definitely don't need to wait for permission if you're so eager to wrap your mouth around me* Red shot back over the commlink, his own grin widening further still as he listened to other team members to pitch in. Red, faintly glowing eyes peered over the round rims of his smartshades at the young elf as he issued a few commands to the device on his belt. A small blip appeared on SeTeheron's AR display indicating an attached file, which she opened once it was declared clean. It wasn't like Red 'did' cyber warfare, not when he had a billion other ways to get inventively mischievous-

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*BING*

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A large, full-colour still image of a young woman performing an act that could only be described as 'wrapping her mouth around' a man - well, part of him anyway - exploded onto the viewscreen. Before she could contain herself Shae had a giggling fit which, eventually she managed to control with some effort, clamping her lips into a tight line, though her dimples were an indicator of further laughter threatening to break forth. Trying to avoid Red's eye, she tapped out a response, grading the penis, the artistic merits of the pornography, and her impression of the fellatrice's technique. At the bottom, she added *Got more to share?*

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Red grinned. The drake was fun to spar with: during the Statue incident she had used him as a coat rack when she visited the cafeteria. Of course, her coats tended to be a little frisky afterwards - minor demons of lust, for instance, could make a jacket feel like a dozen pairs of groping hands right at the time when you didn't want everyone to see you jump like an ass-pinched waitress. He composed a quick, one-line rejoinder: *Not yet. It's been a slow day.*

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She sat back. "We will need passports, false identities, perhaps an occasional fishing boat or smuggler watch our flightpath in case something does go wrong to Alcapulco, and we're going to need to rustle up a couple friendly faces in Acapulco to help get us to our destination. I can also make the aircraft have any markings we want... on demand." ,,

Straightening the utility vest she was wearing, a couple of her car tools in a pocket, she cleared her throat. "Not to insult the memories of our fallen chummers, but this mission is probably compromised the moment we head out. I don't know much about mojo, but I know it does wonders for interrogation. Then they geek you."

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"Sakurako." A deep baritone verging on basso finally spoke up. "If you're worth what these people are paying you, you should already have a false passport and identity set for yourself. You should also have brought your own damn bullets, not asking the foundation to be supplying them for you. We're professionals, and I'll not settle for anything less than everyone here being worth ever nuyen they're paying us."

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His hands clenched into fists and the eight foot tall fomori let each of his knuckles crack as his fingers tightened. He was daring anyone to say anything before he continued. "Quit with the inane questions. She says blow up the building, we blow it up. If people are inside, maybe she'll take that into consideration before she asks us to blow up another. She says do it anyway we can, then we do it any way we can. Period. Frankly if Saori has to sleep with half the people in the place to get the intel we need, I'll pimp the girl myself." He gave Saori a polite nod and a respectful raise of his hand. "No offense."

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"Alright people, we have our job. Sakurako, get the traveling arrangements ready. Otter, compile us a dossier on the intel when you get it from the Boss Lady and send it to everyone for review," He paused for a moment then added. "Please."

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"Now, if you'll excuse us, Mrs. Daviar. As you well know, time is money. Please forward any relevant information to Otter and she, in turn will compile it and forward it to us." He turned to others and straightened the lapels on his business suit. "Red, we'll need to know what you know on Blood Mages. SeTeheron, learn from Red. Saori, gather local intel of the area and the people. Lay of the land, etc. Church, you, Viktoriya and I will handle a weapons check and load up the supplies. Any questions?"

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Sakurako shrugged. More as a defensive response.

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"What about checking up with the survivors of Team 3 in regards to what the potential enemy put up against them? Trust me, I got everything else covered. I'll keep the rifle at home, we're probably going to need to be a bit more subtle. Then again... we don't know anything until those handling legwork get their intel covered. Meanwhile, I got pre-trip maintenance to do..."

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Something about Method's demeanor rubbed Sakurako intimidated her. This wasn't in her opinion how a leader lead, through posturing. "Any preferences I should know before hand?"

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She looked not just intimidated now. She was downright afraid.

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"I said get the traveling arrangements ready. That's pretty all inclusive. Don't make me start cussin'." Method glared at the cocky little albino. "And no, we're not going to check in with Team 3, I don't visit losers in the hospital, I'm not the flowers an a card kinda guy. Everything they have to tell us should be in the intel dossier that Otter is working up for us, or did you miss that too?"

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He took a deep breath and looked down at the little rat. "Now, you done being snarky or can we get to work?"

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"Right... Sorry... Got distracted there for a second... Better there than there, right?"

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She turns to Otter before walking off. "Make sure you get that info from Team Three first hand, okay, Otter? Something tells me that was a good call thinking of that."

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"Now I got stuff to take care of. Pre-flight checks, mechanic stuff."

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"Soooo" The Red Man's voice oozed into the crack in the conversation like molasses as he gave Method a quizzical arch of an eyebrow. "Blood magic?"

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"Yep." the large troll nodded, folding his arms over his chest expectantly.

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"It's not nice stuff." Red said with a disingenuous shrug, his smile widening. Method shook his head slowly. Red would be Red, after all.

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"You ain't nice stuff, and I know you know somethin' about this. Care to share?"

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"Anything for the team." Red glanced around at them all. "Blood magic relies on the life force of others in order to lend vitality to a magician's spells or rituals. Many traditions of mysticism have a blood component, from the Druidic to the Norse, from South America to Africa. Blood-" and damn him if he didn't draw the word out like a connoisseur saying 'wine' "-is a potent fluid. Most magical uses, however, use a mystic's own blood or the blood of a willing donor symbolically. Whilst true blood magic can be done with the magician's own life force, such is rarely the case except in dire circumstances."

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"Okay, so blood equals... what? Magical power?" Death Otter asked.

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"In a manner of speaking. All of you have worked with magi. You all know that a working of magic takes a mental or physical toll. Blood magic simply offsets this toll by letting the life force of a sacrifice absorb it. The more grievous the wound to the sacrifice, willing or unwilling, the more powerful the magic that can be handled by the blood mage. Death, naturally, releases all the life force an enables a very powerful spell to be cast. Animals and the like can be used, but the best effect comes from the death of something sentient."

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"Don't you use blood in your magic?" Shae asked, her eyebrows raising slightly. Red shrugged.

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"I don't use blood magic." he said simply, but his grin widened again.

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"But can you-" she started to press, spotting the word game there, but Red spoke over her.

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"One of the problems with blood magic is that it resonates powerfully on the Astral plane." he said forcefully. "This attracts the wrong sort of attention, such as shadow spirits, Shedim, insect spirits and the like, not to mention worse things." He didn't elaborate and, remarkably, no-one asked. Though some wondered what the Red Man would consider to be worse than those things he had mentioned. "Furthermore, blood initiates can summon, potentially, a blood spirit. Similar to a great-form spirit of any given type, the blood spirit typically wears the face and body of the sacrificial victim used to call it, and can drain the life force of a victim and thus grow more powerful. They weaken, losing this power over time, unless they take steps to replenish it. A free blood spirit is a terrible serial-killer, full of rage and pain due to the imprinting of the essence of the original sacrificial victim."

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"Doesn't your familiar spirit drain-" Shae piped up again, but Red held up a hand in her direction bidding silence.

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"Sweet child, my dæmon is a reflection of my self, and thus certain traits are hard to avoid, not that I would want to avoid them in any case. It is not a blood spirit. Trust me, on this run you will see a difference, I am sure."

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"You think it's likely we'll run into them?" Method asked, his eyes narrowing. Red considered, then shrugged his slender shoulders.

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"Blood magi? Certainly. Blood spirits? It would be risky for anyone to keep such things as long-term pets... but if the Aztlanis are keeping the Sextant in a given place, then they might also have some blood spirits as guardians. Certainly it would be foolish to keep too many..." Red stared up at the ceiling as though reading the stars. "Just one getting free would cause untold loss of life before it could be stopped. One powerful summoner could likely control one spirit... Hmmm. I would wager no more than four such creatures. But then there's the adepts."

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"The adepts." Teach stated, his tone clearly one of expectant resignation.

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"Oh indeed. Physical and other adepts on the path of blood can gain power from partaking of the flesh and blood of sacrifices, much as a mage can, but in their case the benefits are purely physical and can last for days." Red explained with a happy little smile on his face.

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"So if they take us down, they get stronger?" Method asked. "How does that work? Like 'bam, dead guy, eat his ear, whoo I feel stronger already'?"

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"There has to be a ritualistic component to the kill." the vampire replied. "Wounding someone, or immobilising them, then performing the sacrifice and ingesting a part of them in the process. It is not enough to simply kill someone. They have to do it in the right way. But yes, in answer to the spirit of your question: letting a blood mage or adept get close to you is not a good idea."

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There was silence for a moment. Red smiled as his crimson eyes swept over the group.

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"Any further questions?"

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Death Otter, D0 for short, nodded absently as people talked at her and told her to do things she was already in the process of doing. There was a time that would have infuriated her...since then, she'd come to accept that people liked making noise, and tweaked her perceptual filters to compensate. Dominance games. Social order. Contrivances, but useful at times for team cohesion.

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Data flowed. Otter snatched each packet and opened it like a Christmas present, weaving a nice little user-interface around it for the folks who needed such things. Pictures. People liked pictures. She sprinkled the feeds and images at contextually-relevant spots. A summary and abstract. Snide little footnotes. There was no reason it couldn't be both professional and entertaining. Helped develop, retain focus. Enhance productivity.

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When she was satisfied with the 'dossiers,' everyone on the team got a little cartoony otter popping up on their AR displays. The cute little critter was sporting obvious and extensive cybernetics, including half of its bullet-like head. One eye was an adorable little orb, the other a red gleaming atrocity. It had what looked like a little box-missile launcher cocked over one shoulder. The death otter hurled a new mail icon onto the team's collective AR, gleefully informed them, you've got motherfucking mail, in an electronic-overtoned chirp, and exploded in a gory, yet cartoony, shower of blood and parts.

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(OOC - all of which just means that Krul can just send us all the files requested when they're ready. :))

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Phantom - in the occasions when someone wished to not refer to him by his codename in the wrong place, he went by Lupin, somehow managed to sit cross-legged on his cushion seat, a slight smile on his lips as he listened to everyone patiently. "Keep away from the blood mages, spirits and adepts. I can do that."

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"But nothing for me yet, Method?" Phantom added impishly, flicking a strand of long blonde hair over his ear, "I almost feel you've given me a free pass to load up on cocktails." Raising a finger to his lips before Method could bristle or respond, Phantom added, more seriously, "I know. Go through the intel, start figuring out how to get into this miserable place, and pack all my sets of Tres Chic Clothing."

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Phantom did make a point on acquiring a great deal of clothing, various outfits from all the corporate fashion lines. It wasn't for looking good - well, a little in truth - but mainly it was a matter of on the job effectiveness. Phantom was an infiltrator. Sometimes that meant cracking a facility from the outside, other times it meant masquerading as a corporate employee, and it paid dividends in full to not go around Renraku property wearing casual clothing of the Victory brand.

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"In answer to your question, no, I don't expect you to have to play nice, but I do want you to keep collateral damage to a minimum, and I have a specific reason for wanting whatever complex they are keeping the Sextant destroyed, one that will make sense to some of you when you read over the data packet I am sending you, I'll include the information requested about the sextant of worlds in the information packet, in the mean time, I have another appointment to make, refer all further inquirys to Gwen and or if she can't answer the question, Daithikar." Nadja then departed, but not before sending Death Otter the requested data files.

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Data Files

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File One: Sextant of Worlds

SextonofWorlds.jpg

The Sextant of the Worlds is an artifact with a long and colorful history. In 1100 AD, it was brought back from the First Crusade and presented to Pope Paschal II as part of the Catholic Church’s share of the loot captured from the Dome of the Rock, in Jerusalem. It later came under the protection of the Vigilia Evangelica, an extremely secretive order of priests set to guard the hidden treasures and knowledge of the Church. For centuries, it resided in the Vatican’s secret vaults, a part of the immense Aquinae collection guarded by the Vigilia. In the late sixteenth century, it was moved, along with a host of other artifacts, to a new vault in the New World. ,,

Even then, among the Vigilia, there were rumors of the cursed nature of the Sextant. They whispered that anyone who dared to steal the artifact would die a terrible death. Even the Vigilia were not sure if they kept it in their vaults to protect it—or to protect those who would covet it. For centuries, no one dared the curse, or the Vigilia’s remarkable safety precautions. Then it was stolen from the sacred vault—by a member of the Vigilia itself, a rogue priest who abandoned his vows for reasons unknown. The rogue priest was murdered by one of the first blood-mages to serve Aztlan, who took the Sextant for his own and called it the “Sexton of Worlds,” for the similarity it held to the traditional staff of office. When he himself was killed—rent apart by one of his own blood spirits—the Sextant disappeared again. It remained hidden, its location a mystery, until the death of Dunklezahn. In Dunklezahn’s will, he left the Sexton of Worlds (using their name) to Aztechnology, under the condition they stop using blood magic. Certain people within the corporation were undoubtedly surprised to discover that their missing artifact was in the possession of the late dragon—and even more displeased that it appeared locked tight against their efforts to “recover” it. Whether Dunklezahn was simply flaunting his theft of the Sextant from Aztechnology, or baiting specific individuals within the corp, is unknown—what is known is that Aztechnology did not meet the conditions of the will, and the Sextant reverted to Draco Foundation possession, where it remained for years.

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The following information is what our teams managed to extract from Aztechnology Databases, though a good bit of this is already know to us:

In late January 2072, the Sextant of the Worlds was requested by researchers at the Dunkelzahn Institute of Magical Research (DIMR) for study. It was to be transferred from the Draco Foundation vaults in Washington, DC, to the DIMR labs in Boston. Somehow, an Aztechnology mage and member of the secretive Smoking Mirror blood cult, gotword of the transfer, and set his plans into motion. He hired a runner team to take the artifact en route to the DIMR labs. They did so, but recovery teams from the Draco Foundation, sent by Aina Dupree, foiled their travel plans back to Aztlan. The surviving members of the team (three of them) were now on the run—hiding from not just the Draco team, but from others who have learned of the theft and are scrambling to be the first to recover the artifact—both the Atlantean Foundation and the Vigilia Evangelica are looking for it as well.

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All members of the team died over the next few month, but not before their leader managed to deliver the artifact to the their employer, only to die at his hands, the following is the information that Dunkalzahn left to me, privately, I am now passing it on to your team, make use of this information, and be careful.

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Nadja, the Sextant of Worlds is a powerful artifact with a Karmic curse, it twists the luck of those who would steal it against them, but it also possesses powers that make it worth stealing in the eyes of those who understand it. It acts as both a weapon and power focus for magicians of any tradition, but these are the least of it's powers, it also thins the barrier between the physical and the astral, allowing the bearer to open a astral gate on any ley line. It also greatly increases the strength of ritual magic where it is the focus, making the matter much easier.

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I have strengthened the karmic curse, because I am certain that the conditions of my bequest will not be met, in the hands of any but the rightful bearers, those who I have left it too, meaning the foundation, or should my expectations be incorrect, and they met the conditions, Azltan, the curse will not be engaged, should someone steal it however, things will not go well for them.

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If and when Aztechnology steals it, send in a team to recover it, they will not engage the curse as long as they do not attempt to make use of the artifact in any way, but if it has been used in blood magic rituals, everyone connected to the matter and close to the Sextant afterword will be tainted, and beacons on the astral that will make them targets for possession by spirits of the darkest sort, it is best for everyone that they all die.

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After the Sextant is returned, a cleansing ritual will need to be preformed, this will involve a journey to the metaplanes, I suggest requesting the aid of certain parties you already know well in this matter. If the team you send in is willing, they will be karmically idea for this task, having already returned the artifact to it's rightful owner.

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File Two: Retrieval Teams

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All three teams were sent in independently, but at about the same time.

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Team one was a standard team, four humans, two hackers and two street samuri, their purposes was to get into the Aztechnology datafiles and find the location of the Sextant, they targeted the Aztechnology Pyramid in Seattle, and managed to get in, but they failed to get what they came for, the hackers were lost to black ice, and both street samuri were killed in battle on Aztechnology grounds. None of them were aware of their employer, or why they were sent in, this was done though several cutouts..

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- Attached picture files show some of the fighting and deaths of team.

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The Second team fared little better, they had five members on their team, but the end result was the same.. there is little that needs to really be added here.

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- Attached picture files, more or less a repeat of the first one.

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The third team contained a technomancer and a mage, both of whom managed to survive the mission, and get the data we requested, confirming that the information we need is Tenochtitlan, they also managed to pick up a bit of a picture of where the Sextant was used ritually. The attached file shows some of the ritual, it couldn't have been in the city, but was likely nearby.. it' not for the weak of heart.

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- Attached picture file shows a blood magic ritual atop a Aztechnology Pyramid, with several dozen human sacrifices performed, blood was running down the sides of the pyramid, several dozen blood mages involved in a powerful ritual, and sacrifices being forced on the altar every minute by attendants... the ritual went on for about 3 hours.

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Watching Method giving orders made the young woman smile, if only because she was amused to hear him say ‘please’. Getting Roadblock to say please on a routine basis had been the result of a lot of training, and she idly wondered if it had taken some other lady longer to teach him manners. Of course, he may have been born with them, but he was a troll.

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While the others settled into their fun, Saori zipped off a quick message to Gabriella. Be an angel and compile a dossier about Tenochtitlan—your personal home-turf insights would be appreciated. Gabriella sent an almost instant acknowledgement and Saori settled back to do some of her own research while her assistant found information.

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Once the files came from D0, Saori read them carefully, highlighting important parts and formulating them into her files, organized for her use. Another message to Gabriella: I need theoretical knowledge about what a certain blood ritual might be, but I have sketchy details. Three hours long, about a sacrifice a minute, several dozen practioners. If you have an idea what it could mean beyond “big bad spell”, it’ll be worth a footrub or three.

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Just three? Gabriella’s avatar peered into her AR again. As her assistant and more blew her kisses, the message was, I’ll need at least five.

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Saori smiled as she sent back, You can have as many as you want, my angel.

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Gabriella’s image flashed her, revealing her lover’s perfect breasts before closing the AR link. Sighing, Saori went back to her research, which was likely to be superfluous once she had Gabriella’s report. But one never knew what piece of information would be useful later.

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A silvery plume of spice-scented tobacco smoke wreathed the platinum-crowned head of the petite Russian operative as she watched the proceedings through inscrutable feline eyes. Exhaling, she took another drag off her cigarette before rising to her feet. Dressed in immaculately tailored ivory trousers and overcoat, starched white shirt with lace collar, and gold brocade vest, Viktoriya looked more like someone playing at being a fop than a mercenary sniper on contract with the Draco Foundation.

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She nodded at the big ebony-skinned fomori, acquiescing to his simple request without argument, and began a mental inventory of the gear she'd be taking.

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"If there are specific things you will be wanting," she advised the room, her accent stroking the syllables of her faintly husky alto with velvet, "we will be needing to know." Glancing at Method again, the well-dressed runner added, as an afterthought, "Please."

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"Need to pick up a few things," Death Otter said. "Meet you at the dock in thirty minutes."

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It was enough time to drive over to a secondhand chip dealer she knew. Otter figured Saori and Phantom at least would know Spanish, but a little spot-research let her ask for a different one; 'Nahuatl.' In days past that language would have been obscure to the point of nonexistence. Not so much now. It was cheap quality, but would be better than nothing.

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All the while she did that, she was also spinning up travel visas from the Matrix. Not as difficult or detailed as false SINs, but she took some extra care on making them as effective as she could. She even popped up a Matrix site for the cover story, sneakily hosting it on a very low-traffic public access node. Someone would eventually figure out it wasn't supposed to be there, but it'd probably take weeks. In the meantime, they'd have a place to direct looky-loos to.

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Another corner of her brain did some image enhancement on the footage from Aztechnology, and ran the results through a nifty image-filter she'd developed for things like this.

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By the time she met the others at the dock where the seaplane was bobbing up and down in the wind-stirred tide, she had presents for everyone...delivered by her 'death otter' AR avatar.

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Takes too long to talk. Found stuff. Have stuff. Summary:

Image analysis of footage shows the pyramid the ritual was performed at is somewhere in Central America, south of Tenochtitlan. Can't get more specific than that without more data.

Foreign travel permissions obtained. Airtight. Trideo production company: Crimson Method Mega-tainment. Scouting locations, making production deals and obtaining facilities and equipment in preparation for new feature-length trid. We are the cast and crew. Squabble over who's who; it doesn't matter for the visas. Check out the matrix node too.

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An address followed. When checked, it led to a garishly designed Matrix node bedecked in gothy, bloody horror-y themes, evoking cheesy horror porn that didn't even qualify for B-trid. A hilariously ineptly animated vampire based on Red's face drew a cloak over his mouth and nose and shouted "BLAH!" then made pawing gestures as if trying to swat very slow moving mosquitos. It was complete though, with no bad links or pages missing. Someone visiting it might conclude they were low budget, but it looked legit other than that.

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Otter was wearing regular street clothes over her customary black bodysuit, the edges of which were just visible under her shirt sleeves. Over it all was her beloved leather jacket...almost never left behind. She had a couple of suitcases too.

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Here is some crunch to go with that fluff.

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The travel authorizations are Rating 6, attached to the SIN of your choice. They include a destination (Tenochtitlan), an origin (Chicago, since LA is not in UCAS), and a reason for traveling...which is exactly what D0 said it was. I figured a movie company would have plausible explanations for moving lots of equipment...some of which looked dangerous...and would also be a good cover for the freakshow our group is. :) The idea was discussed in chat and won support from those present.

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Location of the pyramid per Krul is not nailed down, but D0 got some very good rolls, and was able to narrow down the search area if we decide to pursue it. The addition of more datapoints might further narrow it down.

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Sakurako was sitting at the dock, her head in her hands and she seemed to be staring into the water. Not exactly looking like she was doing work, wearing what she lovingly called her "Rigger Suit" with the helmet visor up. But this placid facade hid a far more active scene under her skin.

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She was downloading from the public library branch nearby aviation maps of the area they were going to be operating in. Then she sent a copy of her flight path with Draco just in case the unthinkable happened. As well as locations where she would check in. If she didn't... something happened.

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She already had her Rifle set up to go as she actually found a clip she forgot she bought a while back, while she kept her pistol in a holster built into her suit. She had her sword on her back, but they knew she usually stored it once on the plane.

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She had looked over her plane, making sure it was fueled, that it looked like the engines were clear, and the basic maintenance was done. Standing up, she reviewed some of the important data-files as she loaded up her standard set of software into her implanted comlink.

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"Well everyone, the Cygnus is all ready. You guys know the drill, load your gear in the usual spots and then we'll take off. Can't keep the Grim Reaper waiting." She said, more referring to the situation of the poor fools who ended up facing them, although now... things seemed a bit more out there.

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"I'm going to make my initial pre-flight now..."

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Walking into the aircraft, a heavily customized Renault-Fiat Fokker Tundra-9. It's default white with blue trim airframe she kept up for now. Although she could change it with but a thought.

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"Guys, any suggestions on what sort of livery we want to sport heading out?" She texted over everyone's comlink, as she started running down visual pre-flight checklist. "I take requests."

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She sat in her seat, and started to hum quietly.

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"If there are specific things you will be wanting," she advised the room, her accent stroking the syllables of her faintly husky alto with velvet, "we will be needing to know." Glancing at Method again, the well-dressed runner added, as an afterthought, "Please."

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"We got a building to blow up." Method looked to Viktoriya, then thumbed behind him, towards the door more than any department specifically. "Hit up the foundation's requisitions department and see what they'll let us make use of since I'm sure you don't keep several pounds of commercial grade explosives in your apartment. If they put a price tag on it, don't sweat it, have them divide the cost amongst the team and have them take it from our bottom line after this job. Since we can't complete that part without your particular skill set, the rest of us will have to suck it up as an investment. Call me if you need help with anything."

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Shae bounded out of her chair, eager to get going on the run. "I'll grab my gear and be ready to go in about five." She grinned impishly at Red, "I call dibs on using you as a pillow on the flight. And you're supposed to be teaching me all about the big bad blood magicians."

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At Red's predatory grin she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I thought you'd enjoy that."

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*******

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Thirty minutes later she boarded the Cygnus, her only real luggage to stow being a suitcase with some extra changes of clothes. The rest of her gear - an armored jacket, her 'just in case' pistol with gel rounds, and the only two pieces of jewelry she ever wore (a beautiful torque of Celtic knotwork made of silver, white gold, and platinum and capped on either end with rainbow opals and an upper armband of red copper in the form of a dragon with fire opal eyes) all fitted easily on her person. She looked much more the dilettante elf ready to party wherever they ended up in South America than a serious runner set to infiltrate and eradicate a bloodmage stronghold.

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She flopped into a seat, turning so she'd take up both seats in the row until Red arrived, and started through the information D0 had gathered for them. "If you let Red decide, End, we're gonna look like a flying penis. Just sayin'."

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Teach had returned to his quarters, and packed away extra ammunition for the assault rifle and pistols, as well as extra grenades, in case they were needed. The other piece of gear he packed away was the Combat Armor he wore when expecting heavy contact. It wasn't subtle at all, and for this he hoped he'd not need it. Still, for now, it was best to have it along. He donned his vest and then a shirt and pants, before the jacket and everything else. The weight didn't faze him as he hauled the crate down to the hangar, loading it into the Cygnus. He wasn't one for subtlety, and though he'd brought some extra clothing, he shrugged. It was going to be an interesting mission. He'd made sure everything was solid and primed with his weaponry, and Boarded the craft himself. "A small private craft with appropriate ID for a Chartered craft, something a B-Trid company would use to get to a location. make sure it looks as though it's not a pristine craft, otherwise they may be suspicious."

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Endeavor was a bit compulsive about keeping her aircraft clean... in fact all of her vehicles. Any random dust or grime could compromise the integrated armor or the flight characteristics if allowed to sit... but she did have some ideas...

Nodding she changes the currently displayed livery to a generic, sickly green colored transport livery, but otherwise unmarked as to who the firm is, only that it has proper ID. She even set up the current "skin" to have worn paint in certain areas to give it some aging.

"You'd be suprised how many legit riggers operate on their own as independent transport firms, Teach."

She checks the weather forecast and flight weather conditions along her route. She was still going to give time for people to load on in. Also the thought of making the aircraft look like a flying phallus was amusing, but she would have to activate the ruthenium polymer system to hide her shame at that point.

She closes the reflective visor down over the visor for her helmet, it served as flare compensation normally, but her eyes liked it a bit more dark than other people. The HUD in her helmet came up, showing her most important things she needed to keep track of. "Okay, I'm going to sit back and relax for a few unless anyone needs some assistance loading I'm going to go over the rest of my pre-flight."

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Red seemed to materialise from the darkness of the hangar outside the cabin door as he boarded the Cygnus, carrying just a single reinforced carrycase that, most knew, contained his one and only gun, a huge revolver with an extended barrel that fired custom rounds. He only used it against paranatural creatures, though he occasionally menaced regular metahumans with it during 'aggressive negotiations'. After all, people understood guns, whereas most mundanes found magic incomprehensible.

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Besides, Red never threatened with magic. He used it, or he didn't. Usually the former, and usually with disturbing results.

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Nobody was perfect.

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"Well now, this is cosy." he said in his deep voice that sounded akin to velvet sliding over tombstones. A couple of Foundation technicians were loading an ornate, very Gothic-looking coffin into the cargo compartment, and he turned to watch them. "Do be careful with that, or I'll line the next one with your skins." He smiled at them, not bothering to hide his fangs. The two men became excessively cautious.

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"Is that... your coffin?" Shae blinked at him. Red was notoriously private about his personal quarters to the point of promising the most inventive curses and sendings he could think of to anyone who intruded on them. All anyone knew is that they were deep below the Citadel, totally off the grid electronically, and sealed from casual entrance with both spirit wards and regular security. It would be take a team of decent 'runners just to break into the place, and most of that team, Red being Red, probably wouldn't come out again.

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"That tacky thing? Of course not." he scoffed. "We're a movie company, that's a prop... As well as being a useful place to sleep. Think of it as my travel-coffin." He leered at Shae over his round shades. "Very roomy, too, we could likely squeeze in there together. I took the liberty of stocking some dirty etchings for you to look at in one of the satin side-pockets."

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Phantom likewise popped in out of nowhere, with nothing more than two moderate-sized carrycases in his possession. One for secreting his gear, the other with his more public, mundane traveling items. His weapons were already secreted in various places on his body - all of them, from the HK Urban Fighter to the knives and sap the others knew he had used from mission to mission, were quite concealable, and made of materials that would foil any use of MADs.

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A tap or two on the AR link given to the team by Death Otter elicited a grin of amusement from Phantom. D-Trid producers out for a shlocky shoot in Aztlan territory. Easily convinced to spend their nuyen in Aztechnology stores and to heck if they sink or swim, right? Nothing like a good swindle on top of getting back the Sextant of Worlds.

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"So. Every good trid has some kind of romantic sub-plot they say. And generally it has to involve the main characters." Phantom grinned as he addressed Shae and Red and they knew where this was going. "You two want to volunteer?"

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Shae grinned up at Red and put an arm across her forehead dramatically. "Oh, Red, my one true love. However have I lived without you? Or your porn stash?" She laughed and moved so he could sit down, deciding to pull him into the seat instead of waiting for him to sit on his own. She squirmed around until she was half-laying across the seats with her head in his lap.

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She blinked innocently at him, then glanced over to Phantom. "But a romance isn't interesting without complications. D0 and Saori should also be chasing after...me!" She winked at the two women and laughed again, then put back on her innocent face and looked up at the vampire she was currently using as cushioning. "If that's alright with you, Red? You wouldn't be all jealous of the girls fight over me, would you?"

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"Might want to put those visas on your best SIN," Death Otter said with a thunderous pout. She kicked a suitcase onto the plane...from how it tumbled and thumped hollowly, it was probably near-empty. The other one she carried on. "Because your SIN will crack before they do. And I'm not a cast member I'm crew. Because at least that way having my efforts ignored will at least be in character."

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She picked the seat the farthest back away from everyone else and opacified her smartglasses, folding her arms over her chest. The Pout still cast its shadow over her face, but it looked more adorable than anything. She just didn't have a good face for being angry with.

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"Oh noble and cunning and perspicaceous Otter," Red began "When it comes to the Matrix, there is none hotter. / For we would be lost without your skills." He twisted a little in his seat, turning his crimson gaze to smolder seductively at the pouting technomancer. "Unable to notch up wins, or kills. / So pray forgive us our ignorant seeming. / For it is of the Otter that we men are dreaming."

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With that he winked, shifted under Shae's head until he was comfortable, and tipped his broad-brimmed red hat over his eyes.

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"And now, if you'll excuse me, I need my beauty sleep."

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Teach looked at Otter, and nodded. "Thank you, This will make for good reading on the flight. I've already chose the SIN, and like you, I'm crew too, or Rather "Security." He looked around. "It's more believable than pretty much anything else."

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The antics of Shae and Red just made him sigh abit inwardly. Get a room you two, or at least somewhere not in front of everyone else.

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A cloud of fragrant smoke and a black leather boot with brass buttons and a low, feminine heel preceded the rest of Viktoriya; attired in coffee-coloured trousers, an elegant overcoat of the same hue, a starched, high-collared ebony shirt, a tidy golden cravat, and a satiny vest striped in crimson and gold, she looked every bit the dashing neo-Victorian gentleman- save for, well, the rather ungentlemanly presence of breasts. A large brass pocketwatch, trailing a polished chain, even gleamed from within the confines of its eponymous home. With a slim brown cigarette pressed between her lips, the petite Russian stood in the entry, performing a cursory scan of the plane's interior and passengers. In one hand she carried a long, flat, leatherbound case- presumably containing her rifle- and in the other, the handle of an archaic-looking steamer trunk which held Dunkelzahn-only-knew-what. Possibly ammunition, probably something explosive. Or concussive. Or incendiary. Or... Well, anything, really. The sniper was nothing if not meticulous, and utterly thorough.

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Dropping the handle of the trunk, it thudded to the floor, and she pushed it inside with one deft foot.

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"We are missing only the big man and the pretty Japanese lesbiânka, then, da?" Another cursory look confirmed this, and she nodded, having satisfactorily answered her own question. To the pouting elf, she said simply, "Ah. The film. This idea is a good one. Not enough animals to be travelling circus."

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Phantom was going to say more when Death Otter stomped by. For a brief moment, he frowned, before deciding to wipe that frown off her cute techomancer face. "Death Otter, no." Suddenly approaching, with a charming smile on his face, and a rich reminder of the culture in his voice, he came to one knee, classy but casual clothing (covering his camouflage suit) not a detracting factor. "We always want you..."

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It got Death Otter's attention, and curiosity. And then Phantom began. He could actually sing reasonably well.

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"Prima Otter, the Matrix is your stage! Your teammates, we are on our knees to implore you!" Red immediately caught on, and started in as well, a solid baritone. "Can you log out when spiders curse your name?" Phantom grinned with a sly add, "Think of how they all fear you."

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Together: "Prima Otter, spoof for us once again! Think of your rep, and the look... on their faces! Could you deny us the triumph in store? Hack, Prima Otter, once more!"

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The singing died down and then Phantom flashed a grin to Red, "Very well done, Red." Then a glance back to Death Otter. "Happy now?"

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"Almost."

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There was a pause, then Death Otter's avatar popped up in the team's AR again, with a little file folder under its stubby cyberpaw and a vindicitive grin. It empties the file out, plopping a little video footage she just recorded of the two serenading her.

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"Posted," she announced. "All better."

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Shae giggled and set the video to loop. "That is just perfect." She hummed along with the few lines before looking up at Red and reminding him, "You're supposed to be teaching me about the evil, evil blood mages we're going to be blowing up, remember? This vid'll only keep me entertained for a few minutes."

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A bored Shae usually ended up with an annoyed team, as she made her way through the group, demanding entertainment until they got close enough to wherever they were doing their run to actually settle into 'runner' mode. And she started with whoever was closest. She grinned, "You could go through the whole musical, though. That'd keep me entertained for hours."

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Saori’s information appeared in their ARs before she showed up to board. The packets of information were delivered by a familiar Asian woman in a sexy courier uniform that drew an envelope out of her deep cleavage. The envelope was tossed at the user’s inbox before the courier blew a kiss and disappeared.

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A cloud of linked information appeared; the closest ‘bubble’ of information was labeled ‘General’. Clicking it brought up the following:

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Aztlan’s capital, Tenochtitlán, is the home of the Aztlan government, the largest teocalli in Aztlan, the Great Temple of ­uetzalcóatl, and four other major temples. Tenochtitlán has a population of nearly twenty million citizens, ranking it amongst the most heavily populated cities in the world. Infamous for its overcrowding and its heavy pollution, the city is nicknamed El Humo (the Smoke) by the local residents.

The astral plane in and around Tenochtitlán is nearly as twisted and as polluted as the water and the air surrounding the city. To access the mana inside Tenochtitlán, it helps significantly if a magician actually follows the Aztec tradition. In Tenochtitlán alone, there are close to 60,000 priests of the Path of the Sun religion.

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Other bubbles were labeled ‘Map’, ‘Local Customs’ and so on. It was a detailed dossier of Aztlan and Tenochtitlán, grouped so that a reader could focus on their area of interest.

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Saori stalked up toward the ship, her long jacket undulating around her legs with each step. The red dress underneath played peek-a-boo, both peeking out from under the coat and showing the occasional flash of skin. The small woman pulled only a single carryon behind her and most of her attention was clearly focused on her AR.

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Behind her, a taller woman followed, not as beautiful as Saori but a looker nonetheless. She had brown skin and possessed long, elegant features and a willowy body covered in an expensive dress. Saori deposited her bag just inside the door and turned to her tail. The woman smiled as Saori rose on her tip-toes to kiss her. It wasn’t a simple kiss; it was a long, drawn-out embrace that caught all kinds of attention. Saori rubbed her hands over the woman’s breasts, then down her sides to squeeze her ass lightly. “No tardaré mucho,” Saori whispered.

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Voy a mantenerme caliente para ti, ángel.” Gabriella’s reply was just as soft, and she submitted to another very public and probing kiss from Saori.

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Entonces voy a estar de vuelta mucho antes, para disfrutar de su calidez.” A quick peck on the lips was the final kiss before Saori turned and stepped onboard the ship. Scanning the available seats, she took an empty one that was neither too close nor too far from anyone else and settled into the chair. Her legs crossed casually as she closed her eyes and relaxed. Almost immediately, information began to flicker over her AR, supplying her with a continuous feed of Nahuatl in her ear. She had to learn this language fast; she still needed to select a target for gaining more information about their target.

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Unfortunately, for the eight foot tall fomori he didn't just 'pop' in from nowhere. He did what normal people did. He walked down the brightly lit hall ways, used the brightly lit elevators and even walked into the brightly lit hangar to set his gear in the brightly lit plane. He passed the ladies as they swapped lip gloss flavors but didn't bother paying them any mind. He wasn't impressed, he'd seen hotter go farther for less. Christ, it's not like people didn't know, already.

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Gwen - "Do take care of my niece, Carl."

CRP - "I only take one contract at a time. Talk to me when I get back, we'll negotiate. My rates are reasonable."

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As all six hundred pounds of him entered the plane his presence was immediately felt. Not by some aura of power or anything like that, but by his presence. He looked around at every and their Tom Foolery only made him groan, which sounded more like a growl. His expression had the ability to suck all joy and mirth from a scene like he'd never snickered or laughed a day in his life. Needless to say, the mood, even if temporarily, was killed. He was dressed more casually in cargo pants, a military issue sweater (those fancy one with the leather shoulders that look oh, so cool), and a black jacket. Each foot fall from his combat boots was a thunderous echo as people just let the big guy pass in his silence.

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Gwen - "You know what I mean, jackass." =)

CRP - "Since she acts like Red's pet, I'll treat her like Red's pet. She's curled up on his lap like some pathetic groupie. It's cute. Sad for her credibility, but cute."

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He hated them all. It was obvious.

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He produced from inside his jacket two cylinders and presented them to Viktoriya. "As I promised." His voice had more of a reverb in the plane, it made him sound cooler and scarier at the same time. "Sorry it took so long, scheduling differences. I'm not sure if you'll like the flavor, but they smoke good. And don't use a lighter..." He also handed her a small box of wooden matches. "Let me know what you think."

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Gwen - "Keep the filthy, perverse bastard away from her."

CRP - "I'm not her babysitter. She wants to be his little pet, she'll get treated like it. Don't like it? Keep her off the missions."

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He sat down in 'his' seat. The troll one. The massively huge seat that was reinforced to support a metahuman whose bone density was twice that of any other metahuman species (hence the massive body weight). He offered one glare in Shae's direction an scowled at her. "Sit your ass up, woman." He snapped. "You wanna swing from his nuts, fine, but do it on your own time. Right now you're on the company dime so get your face out of his lap, sit up straight and show a little bit of dignity. This isn't a high school field trip."

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Gwen - "You're being a bigger ass then usual, are you okay?"

CRP - "Nope. I'm pretty far from okay. I work with children and idiots."

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"Well, I think we got enough interpreters..." She shook her head. Feeling slightly out of her league. "I really need some down time to catch up."

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She dreaded the day Saori wouldn't be there. She pushed that aside when realizing something important.

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"Oh... and keep an eye out for the four white cases near the back loading door, That's my stuff. They got two red reflective stripes on each of them. The're not too big. You guys know the usual about them."

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Everyone knew what she had in each case. The first case she was keeping two sets of armor, one was her more corporate business suit, the other was a set of street clothing ready for harsher receptions. The second case held her sword and assault rifle, as her pistol was holstered on her suit. As well as all her spare ammunition. Mostly her pistol ammunition. The third case was medical supplies. The fourth case she never let on about but she always had there. She would always say though that she hoped they'd never need to use what she kept in it.

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"So... seems everyone is set." She said, seeing there was weight registered in the seats matching the weight of each individual. "Please fasten your harnesses for takeoff then.. we will be leaving shortly."

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For anyone who wold have heard her voice they would find it odd that a teenage girl was flying a crew of hardbitten shadowrunners probably to their doom... but then they didn't know Sakurako very well.

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Red ignored the pouting Shae, visible beyond the A.R. display on his lap, as he thumbed his commlink through the visa and Saori's packet of data. Technically a 'legal' vampire in the UCAS and other territories that allowed them some rights had a criminal SIN to reflect their dangerous nature, which was of course no good at all for travelling, so he had a very good fake or three. This Age was a blend of the marvelous and the banal, much like any age: wherever there were wonders and terrors, grey little souls with grey little minds would try to eliminate the beautiful chaos of Being.

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Such beautiful chaos.

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The thought conjured a scrap of sensory memory, a thousand voices chanting a word... a name, perhaps? His name? He closed his eyes and pursued the figment, smelling blood both fresh and stale, the smell of mounts and metal and men, hearing the wails of the bereaved as a descant to the tenor rumble of the many voices chanting that single word, mailed fists punching the air. The blood speckled the earth black in the moonlight, and the smell of burning wood and flesh and the flicker of the fires and that name... that name... that name...

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He sighed. The name was an absence of sound, like a damaged spot in an audio recording over and over again, all meaning rendered to white noise in his mind. The name was gone, destroyed, and he was back in the present, this shadow of his former self: the Red Man, in the belly of the flying metal beast with his lap used as a pillow for a slip of a girl while a surly troll growled at them all and a childlike woman told him to fasten his safety harness.

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"Listen to your uncle Method, sweet child." he said with a mocking twist to his lips. "And to the pilot girl, too. One seeks to protect your soul, and the other your physical shell. I will tell you a tale of blood magic and one means to foil it while we travel."

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"Are you going to wear your seatbelt?" Shae asked him with a mutinous tilt to her head.

,,

"I have no concern for my physical shell. And no soul for our overlarge friend to fret over were he so inclined. One day, perhaps, you will understand that." He tapped the end of her nose with a gloved hand, a cute gesture rendered sinister by the mocking smile. "And you will be wiser and sadder for surviving it, I am sure. For now, let us review the documents about the mana around Tenochtitlán. The warped astral space there will make our part, as magi, all the more difficult." He settled back comfortably, still with her head on his lap, and brought up his reading display.

,,

Sometimes he could weep, if it wasn't for wanting to laugh till his throat cracked.

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