Jump to content

First Run: Paths of Shadow


Recommended Posts

Over the last few days, all of you had queries from your various contacts, each of them suggesting that there was a job in the works, if you were interested, one that should pay very well, though apparently they were looking for a team of shadowrunners

For Chunin, it was from Thomas, his fixer, though there was the usual tension in dealing with that particular contact that Marko had, sense he couldn't stand Marko.

Varja also, found himself contacted by his fixer, though there was a bit of discussion, before he found himself directed to the meet.

Scathach was contacted, first her bartender friend said that 'Cousin' wanted to talk to her for a bit, and then he directed her also in another direction.

For Uriel, it was Lizzy who contacted him and mentioned this to him, and suggested that there was a job that would pay very well, if he was available.

The Wiz was contacted by Ivan, of course, as usual, who like the others, was directed to the same job.

And Osiris, of course, was contacted though her tribe, not asking for her specifically, sense they couldn't find out anything about her on th net, but they could get in touch with her though the tribe.


Of course, what most of them were unaware, was that the employer was looking for a specific set of capabilities, and wanted folks who were very capable, but also relatively, unagumented, which in this case, meant, awakened or emerged.

The meeting place was a relatively out of the way bar in somewhere in the Ork Underground, and you were all instructed to go to the bartender and ask for the 'Backroom, Grey 7" The Bartender, who was a Ork, would then have someone take you to the room, in which there was a rather handsome male elf, with a very lovely troll bodyguard, carrying a great axe on her shoulder. In fact, you didn't know trolls came in this grade of lovely.





Link to comment
Share on other sites

He wasn't thrilled, that was for sure. The Ork Underground was not the nicest place, but he just git his new crotch rocket detailed and leaving it on the surface unattended was usually not the wisest idea. Luckily a few of the Robustus he knew and his street cred spoke for itself as he approached a gaggle of Orks, and a troll near where he'd parked, slapped em a street greeting and a few minutes of idle chit-chat and some name dropping and before he knew it they said they'd 'keep an eye' on it for him while he handled his business. Thankfully Chunin was a likable guy who was known for his 'goodwill' work among the Trogs of Seattle.

He didn't trust them, but their word was better than just leaving it there to get chopped.

Not a big fan of Trog Thrash Metal the human walked among the sea of goblinized individuals who were, even the woman, twice his size and could bench press small sedans. He waded through the throngs, his PAN blowing up with local messages from other in the vicinity, some were the polite 'let me buy you a drink' form of diplomacy while the vast majority were the 'get the fuck out breeder, you don't belong here' variety.

Trogs, gotta love em'.

"Need something breeder?" The bartender asked, an Ork who looked every shade of pissed off and mean spirited an individual could ever hope to possibly attain in one neat little not-so-bite-sized serving. "The exit perhaps?"

Chunin mocked laughter. "That's good, very original, cut the bullshit and point me to the 'Backroom, Gray 7' and you can get back to not having any friends."

Trumped with witty sarcasm the Ork pointed in the direction Chunin needed to go and grunted his displeasure with the human only after man's back was turned.


He verified his identity to the bodyguard, providing the minimal amount of contact info and the 'password' that only he should know. Once satisfied she let him in and almost immediately Chunin whistled in the troll hottie's direction.

"Are you thinking of patting me down?" He asked with a charming smirk and arms raised just high enough to safely reveal any hidden holsters for weapons. "Cuz' that'd be super."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The troll woman, who was short for a troll really, only about 7'4", rather then the usual 8 feet and some odd inches, glanced at the elf, who smiled slightly and gave a slight nod. Of course, the complete lack of dermal deposits like most trolls had, and the beauty she had, suggested some significant differences from the average troll. When she spoke however, the slight British accent, and it was almost as lovely as her looks, but her words suggested even more. "You'd like that, eh? I think it's enough that I assessed your aura, no need to go though a strip search.. however fun it might be, for the both of us." She winked at him.

The Elf who as still sitting chuckled at that, and then he spoke up, and his voice appeared to be carefully controlled, and certainly without any hint of an accent. "Please, Mr. Chunin, have a seat, get yourself a drink while we wait for the others to arrive. To make things simple, I'm Mr. Johnson, and this is Valkyrie.. at least, that's the name she's know by at the moment."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Having felt they'd bonded strongly in the past several seconds Marko placed his thumb close to his ear and makes the universally known telephone receiver hand gesture and mouthed 'call me' before winking with a grin and going to get himself a drink. One thing about meets in person is that Mr. Jays almost always had the real stuff, not that synthetic crap that got you drunk but tasted like cardboard. He hated that, because never drank before work. Fate was so cruel.

"Thank you," Marko nodded politely at Mr. Johnson as he made his way to prepare a drink. "It's appreciated. Not to pry, but I've not heard word on any of the others I'll be working with. I understand professional courtesy and all, so if you'd prefer to wait until they arrive I understand completely. It's just, small talk is comforting, ogling at Valkyrie would quickly go from flattering to just plain creepy if we sat here and waited in silence. Anything you can tell me?"

He silently set his glass of water down on the table and took a seat directly across from Mr. Johnson.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Things would probably have been easier on Dale if Marko hadn't gone in first. If the clientele hadn't already been riled...if Dale had been an oddity, instead of a percieved pattern... If if if...

As it was, flush from the excitement of impending skullduggery, Dale entered the bar in his stylish lined coat and sauntered towards the bartender cutting his eyes theatrically back and forth without actually LOOKING back and forth.

He got about halfway there before the troll grabbed him and yanked him around.

"Whuzz goin' on, sumkinda fraggin' convention?!" demanded the 3 meter tall slab of muscle and keratin that Dale found himself confronted by.

He glanced at the massive paw on his shoulder, but most of his attention was directed upwards to the trog's brutish, cigar smoking mug. "Ah, you must be 'the bouncer,'" he surmised, brightening. "Never fear my good man, I'm expected." Beaming, he winked. "In the 'back room.' Uh. 'Gray seven.'" He winked again, to drive the point home.

A slow smile spread over the trog's wide mouth, and he plucked the cigar from between his tusks. "Breeder, if youz want it in the 'back room,' youz came to the wrong place." He mashed the cigar against Dale's coat. "Nice coat."

Impossibly, Dale brightened more. "Ah, good eye! It's been impregnated with a synthetic graphite-based polymer that makes it resistant to heat. Look!" He reached up and brushed the ashes of the cigar away. "As you must have surmised, no damage whatsoever."

The trog, who'd by this time had MORE than enough of this bizarre little man, stopped smiling. "That so?" he asked. "Izzit 'preganated against FIST?!" To demonstrate, he raised his free hand, balled into a fist that looked roughly the size of Dale's head.

Dale realized that he might have misjudged this troll, and so resorted to a survival strategy he'd mastered in the mean schools of the city. He covered his face and yelled, "Back room gray seven! Back room gray seven! Back room gray seven!"

Astonishingly, it worked.

When he didn't feel any bones immediately breaking, Dale risked a look out from between his fingers. The bartender had come out and was glaring at the troll sternly.

"He's been invited," the ork grunted warningly. The troll was still for a moment, then unclenched his fist and shoved Dale backwards.

"Not worth it. Fraggem."

Dale cleared his throat and struggled to get back up onto his feet. "My thanks, good man. I think I may have accidentally upset..."

He broke off when the ork turned a contemptuous glare at him. "Get outta here, breeder. Through that door."

Dale nodded and quickly lunged through the door, facing it as it closed. He then smoothed his hair and coat, and turned around to look into the room and spy the occupants. At the sight of the elf, beautiful troll lady and Marko, he raised an eyebrow.

"This...is the right room, isn't it? Gray seven? There was only one back room door, so I assume this is it." He nodded at Marko. "Hello."

Then he offered his hand to the elf, and then to the troll...and then back to the elf, not sure which was in charge. "I'm Da...er...'The Wizard? Wiz? Same thing I suppose. Good to meet you."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Mr. Johnson, whoever his real name was, elf looked at Dale, glanced at Valkyrie, and raised a questioning eyebrow, then shook his head, and made a quick note on his commlink. "Well, it was supposed to be discreet, not announced to everyone in the bar, I just sent a new phrase to those who are coming in, with instructions to the bartender to let away any fools who do what you just did, get what they deserve."

He gave Dale another look over, up and down, then over at Marko. "Perhaps, for the benefit of our associates, we should discuss your credentials and capabilities?"

Even as he said that, the password, that came though to everyone's commlink, was Red Wind, replacing the old one, Grey Seven.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Dale cleared his throat, showing an unusual amount of wisdom in deciding not to try to defend himself against the derisive comments.

"My skills are primarily in engineering, design and operation of vehicles and weapon systems," he says. "Remote operation, I might add. Drones, primarily, though I am an excellent driver if I may say so."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Fortunately, for you at least, a driver will be needed, and from my inquiries, you are the one who best fits the bill for what I needed. In the future, Mr. Wizard, I suggest that you try to maintain a more discreet presence, and be more watchful of hostilities." He glanced over at Valkyrie a moment, and raised his hand, then turned it to the left, and she smiled.

"I'll see to it, sir, in a few moments, no one will remember this little fellow's passage, too bad he wasn't a dwarf, a lower center of gravity might have helped... besides, it will be a pleasure to teach that arrogant fellow a lesson, and make things a bit more riled in there as well." She walked out past Marko, giving him a grin and a wink as she did, and sending a number to his commlink.

A few moments later, there was a loud crash outside, the sounds of a tussle, and what had been heavy music, now shifted to the sounds of what was beginning to be a rather heavy bar brawl. It was this that the others arriving would find, making more noise and commotion then the Trog Trash Metal that had been playing when Marko arrived.

Valkyrie, however, managed to extract herself from the very fight she started within a few minutes, returning to the room, looking rather pleased with herself. "Well, now, turns out there were more then a few rivals in the crowd, didn't take me more then a moment to include them, and they were throwing fists at one another."


The Johnson nodded to her, then turned his attention back to the two runners who were now in the room. While Marko had managed to impress him slightly with his manner and choices, Dale had come very close to doing the opposite.

"Regarding your question, before our interruption, I don't like to repeat myself, so we'll wait until everyone is here, but it's basically a multi-tiered job, that needs to follow a certain timeline, and I'm offering to pay, very well."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Shivlal walked through the front door, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting. Skirting around the small melee that was occurring in the middle of the room, he headed towards the bar. Once there, he smiled at the Ork behind the bar, and motioned him over. When the bartender arrived, Shivlal looked down at his commlink and said quietly, "Back room, please. Red wind." He grinned widely as the Ork just shook his head, and summoned another Ork over to lead Shivlal to the back room.

Shivlal opened the door to the back room, slipped inside quietly, and closed the door behind him. He took a seat close to the door, then looked around at the others in the room. He nodded at Chunin and gave The Wiz a quizical look, then shrugged. He turned to the elf, "How many more are we waiting on?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Uriel sighed when he saw the location of the meeting, it shouldn't be a problem, but having to make his way through the goblinoids could be wearing. Dressing and kitting up for the job, it seemed logical to assume they would be going almost straight into the job, he hit the street and after walking a few blocks with random turns hailed a cab.

He took the cab to a bar two blocks from the Ork Underground, but walked down the alleyway beside it heading towards the Underground. He never emerged from the alleyway, but a 7'6" Troll Dog shaman did. [Physical Mask spell] It took a while to make his way through the Underground to the bar, but few considered bothering an obvious shaman and he had left early to give himself the time he needed. The fight ocurring in the bar was typical of what he expected from the area and he may his way around the fight to the bar. Perhaps it was his appearance as a shaman, or perhaps it was the crackling ball of energy around his hand waiting for a target, but no-one bothered him on his way to the bartender. "I'm here for the meeting. Red Wind. Oh, and if I'm not on your list it's because I'm in disguise." he tells the bartender with a toothy grin. Having got the new password and wary of the energy still crackling around the apparent shaman's right hand, the bartender passes Uriel on to the meeting room.

Uriel releases the powerbolt he was holding ready before entering the room, and as he closes the door behind him he drops the illusion of the Troll shaman. Now visible is the form of an average height human whose appearance is dominated by the electric blue hair wig, glasses, and the worn trenchcoat he wears. He nods to the apparent runners, smiles at the female troll, and holds out a gloved hand to the Elven Johnson. "Uriel. You requested my presence."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Deirdre sat at the bar in Bosco's, finishing her pint of Guinness with a curse, as she watched her beloved Antrim lose to Meath - bloody Meath - in hurling. Her magenta-furred tail lashed angrily

"Feck! Thanks fer the Arthurs, Bosc, I'll be in later this week ta pay ya the tab, right? Cousin got me a job tonight an' rent is comin' due." Deirdre gave the short, buff elf bartender a nod then slide him her empty glass down the polished bar with familiar ease. She got up left the bar, ignoring the looks - appraising and disapproving - she inevitably received.

Deirdre walked back to her small home in the Elven District - Bosco's being only several blocks from home, giving her neighbors a friendly nod. She hated this city, and hated even more that the hole in heart from being severed from Tir Na Nog was starting to mend with a connection to the cesspool that was Seattle. That she actually liked her neighbors didn't help.

With a sigh, she put on her form-fitting body armour beneath the close-fitting Urban Explorer armour she used as her biking leathers. She almost growled, working her tail into the sleeve of the FFBA - several months since she surged and somethings were still an annoyance.

Deirdre hopped onto her bike and sped towards the Ork Underground, pullling up her mapsoft of Seattle on the image-link of her glasses. She left her bike at a reputable, secure parking lot, then worked her way down, through the city beneath the city to bar where the meet was taking place, her long, strong legs moving her at a pavement-eating pace.

She checked her commlink, looking over the details of the meet, then walked into the bar, ears wincing at the noise called Trog Thrash Metal, her sensitive nose recoiling at the smell. Bloody Trogs... though the fair lads at Stackhouse's are a good bunch.

The bar was embroiled in a powerful scrap, but as the tall, dryad changeling made her way to the bar, there was a lull in the cacophony, even the 'music' seeming muted. All eyes were drawn to her powerfully toned, yet lush figure, unable to look away from her unearthly grace, enticing and menacing at the same time - an elf like Deirdre had certainly never been in this bar before.

Deirdre took off her glasses as she approached the bar, intense golden eyes locking on the ork bartender, though he didn't seem to notice as his gaze was focused about six inches below her face.

She thumped loudly on the bar to get the goblinoid's attention, her tail lashing side to side. She was a bit nonplussed that when he looked up, the bartender didn't look the least bit guilty, his leer showcasing his tusks.

"Eyes off me knobs, baldrick, I dunna have the time fer ye. Lookin' fer the backroom, Red Wind, right?"

His smile widening, the bartender wordlessly pointed to the door. As Deirdre glided over to the door, she could feel his eyes burning on her backside, her tail wagging with her agitation.

She entered the backroom, her golden cat-like eyes scanning the occupants of the room. The elven bob looks like he be belonging ta the Danaan-Mor. The troll flah smells o' fomori - long reach with that there piece o' metal. Deirdre gave Shivial and Dale a nod of acquaintance, one professional to another.

Marko got a warmer greeting, her exquisite lips briefly bending in a smile for the regular at Stackhouse's Gym. She had watched him at the gym - the consummate professional sure had the moves.

Deirdre leaned against the wall, her long, long legs shown to great advantage, her attention turning back the Mr. Johnson. "We waitin' fer anymore, or can we get ta the dodgy business?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It was raining as it always did on such days. Winona stared outside through the window of her quarter and watched the patterns of rivulets that the raindrops left on the glass as it followed a path only chance and gravity knew.

The young elven Technomancer squinted a few times and then felt the bright rays of sunshine caressing her alabaster skin.

"They are waiting for you, Osiris.", a deep voice filled the hall of the Prophets Chamber. Winona turned around and nodded at the well tanned and handsome man who spoke. He was several inches taller than her and of athletic built like those ancient greek statues. His upperbody was naked and something like a long wrap-around white skirt hugged his hips and legs. The exotic looking man was wearing heavy looking golden necklaces with egyptian hieroglyphics that constantly shifted. They were reflecting the constant expansion of the Matrix and the Augmented Reality. If you knew how to read it the world was yours.

"Prepare my steed, I am late.", she said to the handsome man - then the sunlight vanished.

Through the mists of her lucid dream a young elven man pierced through her perception and dragged her back to reality. He took her hand and guided her through the communal haven to the engineers quarters until they reached the garage of their vehicle pool.

"Are you sure you can do this?", the young man asked, both worried and humble to the prophet of the Deep Resonance.

"The clouds split up and the sky tears open and Set himself is reaching his fucking tongue through. I'm going to be ok, Jay.", she told him matter of factly. Her voice devoid of any passion or modulation that could have hinted at her intention of sounding reassuringly.

"Show me haste.", she implored her bike and with an animal like howl the engine came to live and in the matter of a second she bolted off like an oiled lightning through the streets of Seattle.

Her Suzuki Mirage painted with the tags and graffiti of her tribe cut like a knife through the suburban traffic. Osiris didn't pay much attention to the real world and instead relied on her intuition and the AR to show her the right way. The meeting place was 10 minutes away, she made it in 5.

The brawl inside went unnoticed by her. Her eyes scanned the surrounding until a beacon of light almost blinded her. She stumbled over unconscious bodies and dodged flying obstacles with uncanny precision. "The red wind that shakes the barley. Check the backdoor of your poor mind.", she said to the Ork who was still in boobhaven.

The bartender looked at her quizzically and nodded towards the door as he checked her out. Another beautiful elf in this place - he should call it a day and mark it in his PAN. This place was coming down quickly. Nice legs and cute butt, though he thought to himself as he watched the elven beauty disappear through the door.

Osiris entered the room and nodded at the handsome elf. "I've deliberately got caught in your web.", she tilted her head sideways and then added, "Death becomes her?"

(ooc:Osiris is wearing the same goggles you can see on the avatar. Her outfit is a more or less tight-fitting Urban Combat suit with a bolero-style jacket that ends just under her breasts. The jacket is open and it doesn't look like it can be really zipped close. The former urban camouflage has almost vanished and heavily decorated by tribal tags and graffiti. For those with the right Knowledge skill it can be easily associated to one of the larger tribes in the sprawl. Aside from her obvious streetlook and wear Osiris is clinically beautiful like a perfect painting... and just as odd.)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the two lovely elven women enter the room, the Johnson, whoever he might be in truth, smiles, and addresses them both with the same phrase, a simple greeting in Sperethiel. "Se'seterin" Before he turns his attention to the troll woman, who nods, and goes to the door locking it, and posting herself in front of it.

"For those of you who don't know the language, I just said good morning, and now that everyone is here, let's get down to business. You can call me Mr. Johnson, and this is Valkyrie, please, get yourself a drink, and have a seat." He waited until everyone was seated before he continued.

"What I need, is a bit complex, I need 3 people and an object extracted, I need data snatched and erased, and I need it all to happen within two hours of one another. I'm going to have a group or two of tail chasers as well, but I need you folks to carry out the real job. We're willing to pay 25,000 to each of you, the target corp is Aztechnology, and before I say more, I need your commitment to the job."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Marko didn't pay much mind to the others as they entered. Greetings and hand shakes and in the case of the hotties, number exchanges should always be done after the meet when the team has more time to themselves. This was Mr. Jay moment, he was paying for it after all. He let the man discuss things and state his terms, listening as he chatted with Valkyrie on his PAN.

Click to reveal.. (Marko's Chatting!)

Valkyrie: I'm trying to work you know...

Chunin: No kiddin'? Me too.

Valkyrie: Are you always this confident?

Chunin: Always. The worst you could have said was 'no'.

Valkyrie: Actually, the worst I could have done was smashed a rib into your heart and watched you bleed out internally.

Chunin: Wow, that's so sexy. Tall violent women are a real turn on.

Valkyrie: *laughs* You're impossible!

"The only real stipulation I have to my professional career is Wet Work, Mr. Johnson." It was obvious Marko English was a bit too perfect[/], like he'd just read a book on how to speak it. "Since you've made no mention of that, I see no reason why I can not accommodate your request."

Click to reveal.. (More chatty-chatty)

Chunin: So, Wednesday then? Dinner, your choice of where...

Valkyrie: I'll have to check my intinerary, are you sure about this?

Chunin: Positive. You have my number, don't be shy.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Dale's head crunched the numbers as efficiently as a calculator. Twenty-five thousand nuyen on one side; a list of parts and fees on the other. It wouldn't -quite- be enough to completely finish the Lazarus Protocol, but it would be enough to get equipped for trials and proofs-of-concept.

He nodded hastily. "Consider me counted in."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

While Marko traded comments with the guard, the elf Johnson turned his gaze to each of the runners as they spoke up, or waited for them to speak. Until everyone spoke up, or anyone addressed him with question's directly, he didn't say anything, just waited.

The room was kept a nice temperature, and there was a bar in the room, a number of leather covered seats, and a table that Mr. Johnson was sitting behind.

Click to reveal..

Valkyrie: Don't think I won't take you up on this, Wednesday, 1800, Gracie's For Ribs, Downtown

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Deirdre raised a magenta brow at seeing her distant cousin Winona enter the meet, then gave her a shrug, accompanied by an awkward nod and grin. Winona - Osiris - was a quare geg, and no mistaking, but she did help her get established in Seattle. Deirdre still was not sure if had been a mistake, but really, she had nowhere else to go.

Being exiled from the Emerald Isle was a wound that was still healing.

When Mr. Johnson gave her the greeting in the True Speech, she gave him a subdued smile and replied back with a traditional greeting, "Telegit thelemsa." When he answered back with the response, "Siselle. Thelemsa-ha," she couldn't quite keep her smile from turning wry. I be doubting that anyone follows truly the laws o' nature in this shitehole of a city.

The leggy, amazonian dryad spun her chair around before sitting, giving her tail free reign to move as it willed, and listened to the aristocratic elf's proposition. The run sounded much more complex and dodgy than the bodyguarding and hired muscle jobs she had taken so far, but from the little she knew of the other runners in the room, she thought they'd have the skills to handle it. Besides, rent was due at the end of the month, and she didn't fancy looking for another place in the city.

That the run was against Aztechnology didn't mean much to her - due to harsh laws, the megacorps had little power in Tir Na Nog. Only Evo Éireann-Tír had bugged her a bit in her native land, wanting to study the dryad's connection to their environment.

"Llayah, I'm yer girl, chancer," Deirdre said in a purr, her deep voice casually predatory. Back in Eire, the elven Mr. Johnson would have attracted her interest, but since she surged, she was still somewhat self-conscious.

To cover her flustering, she got up with her impossible grace and stalked over to the bar. She sniffed at the several bottles, before making a pleased noise at discovering a bottle of Irish whiskey. She poured herself a tumbler full of the amber hued alcohol, then leaned back against the bar, her tail twitching contently as the whiskey made it's warm way down her throat.

Deirdre's gleaming cat-like eyes roved over the others, waiting for their replies, highly attuned to any movement. She didn't have her glasses or contacts on - she didn't live in the AR world like so many seemed to - so ignored the slight vibration coming from her commlink - it was probably just a guy looking for a ride, anyway.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Nice," Chunin nodded at his 'partners' rather tactless means of saying yes. "I think he's asking in case any of us have any morality issues with what we're about to do. Please don't irritate the guy, I want him in a good mood when I try weasel more money out of him." He grinned to the Jay and winked.

Click to reveal.. (Chitty-Chatty!)

Chunin: Wednesday it is! You can't miss me, I'll be the guy in 11" platform shoes. I gotta do something about your height advantage, I'd be embarrassed spending the entire evening nestled in your cleavage... content... but certainly embarrassed. I try and save that for the second date.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Uriel nods to Chunin and turns back to the Johnson, "My apologise, I had assumed that any who had morality issues with our line of work would have been overlooked when making your invitations. But I can recognise the wish to be sure of the information you may have gathered about us. Yes, I am happy to proceed with the operation you have outlined so far."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The elven Johnson showed no sign of emotion at each individual's reply, except for Deirdre's, at which point he smiled and winked at her, and her commlink buzzed again. Of course, it was up to her to look at it and answer, and she seemed to be ignoring it fairly well at the moment. In time, it appeared that everyone had spoken up, except Oriris, and his gaze turned to her, as he waited to hear her reply.. whatever it might be.

In the meantime, the conversation between Valkyrie and Marko continued.

Click to reveal..

Valkyrie: laugh Somehow, I find it difficult to imagine you being all that embarrassed about anything.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Deirdre caught Johnson's wink and smile, and hid her own smile behind her tumbler of whiskey, though her tail did begin to dance a bit more lively. She felt her commlink buzz again, then gave a sigh. She flipped open and put on her shades and linked them to her commlink - besides, Winona communicated more clearly through comm than she did through words.

Click to reveal..

Johnson: 'My girl' are you? That sounds interesting...

Scathach: Only fer the run, bucko. If ya have anythin' more in mind, yer gonna have ta do more chasin'. Are ya fer a bangin' chase?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

When his gaze turned to the technomancer, instead of a direct reply, he got an affirmative sent directly to his commlink, which he checked a moment, then smiled a slightly, at the reply from both of the lovely elven ladies, though his attention at this point was more on Deirdre. He sent her another message, replying back and forth, even as he prepared to lay down the particulars.. at least, part of them, sense now that he had affirmatives from everyone.

He sat back, apparently relaxing a bit, as he laid out the objectives, high points, and low points. "Here's the deal, the following individual is the biologist Terrance Mercer, this is his wife Amanda, who is primarily an enchanter, and their magically active daughter, Alicia." As he spoke, a series of images appeared, Terrance was human, but his daughter and wife were clearly elven.

"Terrance and his wife have been working on a special sort of drug, one could cause as much of a sensation as the drug Tempo. They want out, but they want the entire family out, and they want the research lab destroyed, and their research destroyed." He paused. "There is more, but suffice it to say, that's the initial problem, the problem, is that the family has set things in such a way, that it's an all or nothing deal."

"That's where you folks come in, there are several locations involved, that are warded, or have weapon sensors, it's a heavy mix of magic and tech, and it won't be easy. Being awakened and emerged, you lot can deal with some things that anyone with cyberware wouldn't."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It was obvious the mosaic that massed for his new team wasn't about to do much. He prayed it was not a testament of how efficient they were in the field.

"Alright, well, excellent." He said suddenly breaking the incredibly unprofessional silence. "Just send us all the relevant info, any pass codes, floor plans, grocery lists, you know things you feel might be important for this as well as a 5,000 nuyen advance to cover our preliminary expenses and we'll be happy to begin supplying you with a researcher, it's family and an impressive amount of industrial espionage." His smile was nothing short of a million nuyen. "And we certainly appreciate this opportunity to show you exactly how family friendly of an organization we are and the opportunity to do our part in 'saying no to drugs'."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Well now, just a second," Dale said...evidently oblivious to the notion that he'd been spending too long thinking this over without responding. "Just to make sure we're clear on this...how many people are in the researcher's family? Did they leave any secure communication information with you? Before we ask for an advance, we need to know how much of the pre-operation footwork we'll be doing ourselves."

He glances at Marko and nods. "Five thousand may be a bit conservative."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Um, his wife Amanda, and his daughter, Alicia. The guy just said that..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You know what... never mind." he whispered. It was embarrassing the guy was about as green as grass and he could already feel the headache coming on. In front of the Mr. Johnson was not a place to have this conversation, it made them all look unprofessional.

It was going to be an incredibly long night.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

This multi-action run seemed to be granting them much more leeway in how they were to proceed than she was used to. So far in her meager running career, she had just been a bodyguard and hired muscle, neither of which required that much initiative. Deirdre was glad a prime professional like Marko was here.

The leggy changeling gave the Mr. Johnson a nod, telling him to continue, then gave Marko one, agreeing with everything he had said. She turned back to Mr. Johnson with a questioning arch to her eye brow.

"I be jus' wantin' t'know, the targets, they be close enough fer us to hit them all in tha two hour time frame, or we be needing to split the team to make it?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He paused and glanced at Dale a moment, then responded to his question with a certain amount of patience. However his tone was a bit colder as he held up his hand, and counted out the number of folks in the family, one at a time. "There are three people in the family, father, mother, daughter. Do you need me to repeat that a third time?"

The rest of Dale's question, however, was more understandable. "Our connection with the Terrance family is not one we are going to explain at this time, all I can say, is that you are free to set things up however you like, this run however, needs to take place in the next 4 days, and the critical events all need to happen within two hours of each other."

Giving his attention to Marko. "Actually, it's researchers, both the husband and wife are working together on this project, so it's vital that you get both of them." He paused a moment. "However, the daughter is not without a certain importance either, it's vital that you get all three of them." He wasn't interested in explaining why, in the last case, no reason to tell the runners any more then he had too.

"You are likely to be able to get the husband and wife at the same time, but their teenage daughter isn't all that certain, she moves around a lot. Also, she's been training as a fairly capable hermetic mage, so you may want to be careful how you appoach her. The mother is also awakened, but she's focused her abilities on matters of enchantment, from what we know."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

No means of getting in touch with them first, unless they devised one, Dale thought. And the daughter at least might be dangerous.

"Are they at least aware that we...or someone like us...are coming?" he pressed. "For example, do they know you...so we can use you as a credential to prove we're on their side."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Uriel said nothing initially, but captured the images of the targets to his link and started searching for memory for any mention of the Enchanter in those circles.

"You speak as though you know the locations that they will be in during those 4 days. Perhaps you could add any outlines for their itineries that you might have to Chunin's list of information."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Osiris watched her Cousin closely for a moment and then suddenly refocused her attention on Chunin. Her face was devoid of any emotional expression and it was hard to tell if she was actually listening to the conversation.

All of a sudden she apparently dodged something and turned on her heels and laughed a short moment, then she sat down on one of the chairs facing Mr. Johnson. She looked back a short moment to the spot she just occupied and then shrugged dismissing whatever was going on behind her. Instead of speaking she looked at Dale and sighed, then looked to her Cousin again and wetted her lips.

“Have you ever danced with the Devil under the pale moonlight? How much is the serpent involved with Terrance? I like it when the red colors come out. If he is aware of his extraction why can’t he tell his daughter and wife? We ride the black edge. Loyalty issues?”, Osiris asked not really looking at the Johnson. Oddly her voice changed a lot in modulation and pronunciation as if she was speaking with two voices at once.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Johnson checked the time a moment, then turned back to the runner's who were present. "Terrance has some idea this is happening, but didn't want to know who or when. Let's just say, someone higher up decided it needed to happen in the next few days." He paused. "Amanda and Alica will go along with him, but he won't be cooperative without them going too. Additionally, we have a specific reason for wanting all of them. Now, I need to be going, I have another meeting I need to attend in the next hour, so I can't stay, if you have any more questions, I suggest you find them out in the way most shadowrunners who are curious, and aren't told everything by their employer's do." He stood up, gathered up his coat, and turned to Vakyrie, and with a nod, both of them walked out of the room.

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...