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 Loose Ends

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Dura
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PostSubject: Loose Ends   Tue Mar 30, 2010 5:11 pm


The sky spread out overhead like a blanket of soft blue, not a single cloud (of pollution or otherwise) present to mar the natural perfection of the day. The expected high was 18 degrees Celsius, but with the pleasant sunshine it felt more like 20. Even the shrill screeching of the seagulls took on a soothing tone, seemingly more relaxed than normal as they circled Salmon Bay in lazy circles. Yes, truly these were the perfect conditions for a stress-relieving ferry ride. And, as luck would have it, that is exactly what the day held in store for Dirk Arpey. But Arpey felt no joy at the upcoming luxury ride, merely grim anticipation. His job, no, his life depended on the outcome of this meeting, and that tends to kill one's good mood. Of course, Arpey's good mood had been killed long ago. Now he was just waiting for his body to catch up.

And speaking of waiting... Arpey took a long look around, surveying the Wednesday afternoon pedestrians meandering around the dock, going about their business. It was an odd feeling knowing that there were people out there who knew what he looked like, but he didn't know them. They could be anyone, anywhere. Arpey double checked his briefcase once again, comforted by its weight in his hand, and resumed waiting, the sleek passenger ferry creaking occasionally behind him as it brushed up against the pier.




Outpost:
*Clink* The familiar sound of glass tapping together set the stage for a healthy draw from the bottle, quickly followed by a heavy sigh. "I tell ya, Taylor, really takes ya back, ya know? Not often we get ta do this anymore, and it's a damn shame. I know how it is though..." Sam left the sentiment unfinished, glaring at his nearly empty bottle. "But I guess that's how it goes. Times change and ya change with 'em, or get left behind. I'm just glad you 'n' me haven't changed too much, ya know?" He hiccuped/burped, and rubbed his mouth, eying a passing waitress with a lecherous smile before turning back to Colton. "Aww, lookit me... I'm a blubberin' fool. But you...? You're ice cold, ya know that? Always been your gift... an' your curse. So focused!" The big man sat back, nodding suddenly as though a thought struck him, even through the alcohol-induced haze. "That's right, nearly forgot! I got a job for ya, little diddy I heard about through the channels. Sounds like a cake run; I'd go with ya but... my knee's been actin' up." He stopped to rub his leg, wincing at the memory associated with it. "But you... you oughta head out there, least check it out. Meeting's up in Magnolia, fancy shmancy I think. Might want ta get somethin' a liiiittle nicer than that ratty shirt of yours." Sam just laughed, draining the last of his booze in an exaggerated gesture.




Vanya:
Along with Kit's favorite dish came a note this time, placed on just below the bowl. "Ehh, I den't know ef yeh want this, bet et's th' address fer a job I herd 'bout." Flik stood with his hands crossed over his comically small apron, feeling foolish talking to a cat. "Out en th' water, so... den't get wet. Yeh c'n earn a lettle nuyen, pay yer tab, yeh? Den't get me wrong... I den't mind... jes' think et over." And with that, he stepped out of the storeroom, hands raised placatingly. The last thing he wanted was some magical freak pissed at him, but the thing had better start pulling his own weight or Flik would have to look into hiring an exterminator of some sort. Even if that exterminator was just a loaded shotgun...




MisterBook:
"Sorry, that's all I got for that price." Hez shook his head with some irritation, already packing up the guns and shoving boxes back into his trunk. He carefully locked each metal container before sliding them under the false bottom and into the smuggling compartment of his car. "Look, it's none of my business till you make it my business, which is just exactly what you did. You got any work lined up in the near future? No? Alright, you didn't hear it from me, but some corp sucker's begging for some manpower, and they say his wallet's deeper even than your tab, so you head out to this address," Hez paused to transmit a note to Bruddah's comm, a simple text file with a link to a map of downtown. "Get some work, get some money, and then you call me and we'll talk business... got it?"




Azo:
The familiar blinking box in Gwydian's AR carried the signature of Jack's commcode, not a call he could afford to miss. Unfortunately, it was also a call he knew he would regret taking. As soon as he accepted the call, Jack's litany began. "Gwydian! No, no. What are you doing? We've got an ad campaign hitting the streets in Singapore in one. week. And you're not even started on a job yet? No, no, no, no, this won't do. Okay, don't worry, I've got a job lined up. It's far below you but it was short notice, so don't hate me; you'll just have to deal with it. Go meet with the guy, make it exciting, you hear me? None of this politely understated nonsense like last time, capice? Our public wants a show, give them a show!" For the first time Jack paused, running out of steam for a mere moment while glancing off to the side, but then he jumped right back in at the same pace. "Okay something has officially come up. Check your inbox for the location, and don't be late! And get some better clothes, would you? Scuffed 'n' tough was sooo last season."




Devildog:
A floating "1" next to a picture of an old-fashioned letter notified Trigger of the message waiting for him on this 'link. The note was from Chad Riker, albeit under one of his aliases. The note was simple, and to the point: "Possible corporate sabotage suspected- need you to do a little investigation if you're up for it. Pay should be good, and there's some extra in it for you if you get any condemning evidence. 4215 21st Avenue West, Wednesday at 1:00 PM, and let me know if you need any resources to do the job."


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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Tue Mar 30, 2010 6:52 pm

Gwydian punched up the info and quickly scanned it. Jack was right, as usual - unless the job was something like a long term tracking or something, should be plenty of time to get the wet record, edit it up, and release before the deadline. Another damn image change though? Kevlar took forever to get properly worn in and he'd just gotten the duster from last season nice and comfortable. Still, he knew better then to argue - Jack was always right about these thing. He gave himself a quick once over - casual, but fine for shopping - before heading towards the door. In the entryway, he made the usual pause before the doorway. Studying his image, he focused carefully on his face. Relax a muscle here and the jaw dropped. Tighten another and the brows slooped up and in rather then out. A twist here, a tuck there. A couple minutes of meditation to put himself in a good frame of mind -- and turn his hair bright gold -- and dark shades to hide his trademark silver eyes, and the man who looked nothing like Gwydian the Blade was ready to hit the town.

**six hours later**

Gwydian pauses inside of the door and relaxed his face, letting it return to its natural lines. He paused to rub a particularly sore spot along his jaw. You'd think that after 6 years of this it would stop hurting to do it. Ahh well. The fitting had gone well and he had to admit he liked the new look. Still, four hours of searching, even trading on his real face a few times when he thought he could get away with it, and the soonest someone could coat the stuff in ruthenium was still going to take a couple days. At least he'd picked up two of the suits so he could leave one with the fixer for the coating and still wear one to the meet. It wouldn't look like he had to swap mid-way through that way, but odds were he wouldn't have the coating advantage for the coming run. At least fire-retardent fabric was easier to come by and not to unsual a request in this day and age. He hung the copy of the new suit in the closet and plopped down on the couch to review the final edit of last week's sim before it was released tonight.

**Wedensday, 12:45**

Gwydian's bike gave a low rumble as he pulled up in front of 21 West. The custom Mirage was flashy and intentionally eye-catching. In fact it probably would have been a fatal mistake, given how many folks were after him. Except of course for his fans. At this point there were probably over a thousand identical knockoffs of his 'custom, one of a kind' bike in Seattle alone. Standing he paused to check his fake face in the review and look over the new suit again. He did like this look. The perfectly tailored light grey suit over the back collarless, along with the dark glasses, looked far more professional then the duster had, though by now he was well aware that more professionals in this line of work wore dusters then would ever wear suits. Still, he looked like the popular image of a secret agent or high class assasin, which was no doubt what Jack was after. Turning, he shot his cuffs and headed into the meet.

OOC:

Buying 2 copies of Zoe line clothing: Long jacket, shirt, trousers, fire resistance 6 (5,100y)
Adding Ruthenium Polymer Coating to 1; Made it on the second interval, so 4 days to get it done (7,500y)
So 12,600 out of his monthly income.

Disguise roles for shopping/meet: 5 hits/3 hits
Avaliability role for ruthenium coating: 13 hits
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Tue Mar 30, 2010 8:55 pm

Click.

Kit relaxed, now in the privacy of his home. Sustaining those two spells had been taxing, but foci were best reserved for more difficult tasks. Like what he would do now.

A good hunter never leaves home without his hounds.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Tue Mar 30, 2010 9:14 pm

"cake run huh?" laughs and thinks to himself if only ther was such a thing as a cake run... so he got up "see you later sam" nods at the barkeep leaving the bar he headed to his jeep. "stupid lonestar needs to stop putting tickets on this thing just because its a leftover from one of their case lot sale..." he mumbles to himself as he picks up yet another ticket from lonestar telling him his jeep even though no longer combat ready shouldnt be parked there... he hops in throws the ticket on the ground and heads for the nearest goodwill looking for some decent formal wear that will match his lined jacket and bulky enough if he had to take that off his vest wouldnt be conspicious. after picking that up he would head home grab his cougar fineblade and head to magnolia and the up coming meeting. you never showed up later for anything... unless you wanted a serious case of the deads...
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PostSubject: Hit The Pavement   Tue Mar 30, 2010 10:43 pm

"Huh."

Ereth bot'Nko - better known as Bruddah - ran a calloused thumb across the brim of his old, beaten hat, pulling it low over grey eyes and a face that looked like it got into a fight with a blender. And won. He works his tusked jaw for a moment, thinking of ways to pull this stingy dreck back into business, when Hez goes and mentions work. A 'job'. Bruddah lifts his chin, light leaking around the edge of that tattered brim to show the pale scars that criss-crossed his features. Rubbing a hand across the stub of his ears, getting the itch out of them; Been itching ever since they were bitten off those many years and critters ago.

"''Preciate ... de info..." Grunts Bruddah, after a moment's consideration after he flips through the information link. "... Dis do real fine. Mm. Send ya'll ... de typ'cal findah fee... if fellow hol' out true." Bruddah takes one last glance at the smuggling compartment, tusked jaw once again working back and forth. Didn't necessary -need- it. Not just yet. Work first, build cred, build momentum, and -then- worry about getting back on top of the game. Nodding his head once more to Hez in what typically passes for 'polite', and quite calmly walking away.

"Gotta.. git home firs'. Drop off few thangs... den git t' it. Dem brats gon' be hungry mighty soon..." He murmurs to himself as he goes. . o O (And pick up a few things as well. Never can tell if Hez the type to send an ork to a fugly ghoul eaterie for a few nuyen more.)

Scarred, twisted hands dip into the pockets of his lined coat, thick shoulders hunched up. His nose, broken so many times that there wasn't a straight line to be found, quietly twitching as his neuro-job kicked in. Opening up a whole new world in smells. Never know, he might get lucky and stumble across a rat.

Mighty fine eating, once you get past the hair. Make the kids grow up into big, thick orks capable of squeezing a keeb's head off.

OOC: Heading home to check on the brats, and pick up weaponry and equipment. THEN going for the local listed on the info.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Tue Mar 30, 2010 11:26 pm

The next day, a tabby cat with a tawny coat makes its way out the door of an upscale condo. He turns an alley and is soon just another stray in the city.

"yOu sHoUlD hAvE DEVOURED tHaT fOOl FOr hIS ArRogAnce," a flickering voice blazed into Kit's mind.
"No, Smolder, I should not." Even Kit's thoughts, like his speech, had clinical exactness. "Flik has done us a service, and a debt remains owed to him."
"bAH!" A second voice seared across Kit's mind, "i aGREe WitH sMolDER. WhAT dO PeTTy HUMan dEBtS mAtTeR?"
"Might I remind you, Scald, that I also am human? When I last checked, your debt to me means a great deal."
"tH-THAt'S nOT..."
"the little hunter is right," rumbled another, "debts must be paid. the one named flik had every right to do as he had done."
An argument ensues.
Kit grins a cheshire grin. It was good to have decent company again. Good to have work too. After the incident with pyromaniac dwarf, he had been laying low for the past two months. Things had finally finished settling down last week--Flik had most propitious timing.

Kit looks up at the sky and at a crow flying in a lazy arc. He never did find out whatever happened Silvia. Which was a shame, really. Some disasters bear watching, preferably with popcorn.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Wed Mar 31, 2010 1:50 pm

"uuugghh" Hangover. This is just perfect... What? I noticed the 'message waiting' indicator flashing incessently and played the message and cringed at what I heard. Today of all days, what a joke. "Heh heh, well trig', duty calls and all that." After a cold shower and some breakfast consisting of some sort of 'juice' and some nutrisoy slop, I checked the time. 0930 hours, I still got some time to kill I guess I'll call to setup my transport to the meet.


"Cyber-Reign Innovations, this is Carla."
The perky woman on the other end of the call is Riker's secretary. I still stutter step when she states the fake business name so convincingly. "Romeo 17 - Alpha Rhino 1-3-5-2" I gave her the passcode. Old fashioned way of keeping away unwanted callers but it works well enough I suppose. She put me through to Riker, I verified the message and made my request. I needed to show up to the meet in something inconspicuous, so I wouldn't be noticed until I wanted to be, in case things went south. "Very well, Labraid. The sedan will be outside in 45 minutes. Don't miss it." I hung up. Now to finish prepping my gear. I like it to be ready to grab-and-go at a moments notice.

"Ok, Looks like everything is in order and its about time for my ride to be here. Lets do this."

The drive won't take long, as I live fairly close to the location. I check my watch, 1230 hours. A little ahead of time, But I can scope out the scene before I jump outta the car. I can smell the sea much more strongly each block closer we get... It's disgusting.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Wed Mar 31, 2010 3:54 pm

Suitcase? Still there. Arpey couldn't hold in the anxious tapping of his foot on the greyed wood below, the only visible twitch in his otherwise stoic demeanor. He didn't even hear the seagulls anymore, and the passing people all seemed to blend together. His thoughts strayed back to his paperwork, mentally reviewing the numbers and initiatives. Thus it came as a surprise to him as man in a fancy suit approached, obviously intent on something other than boating. Arpey stepped forward, gesturing with a cautious hand. "Hello, you're here for the job offering, correct?" He looked the man over, nodding his approval at the choice of attire. "If you will, please wait on the yacht, or you're welcome to wait here with me, your choice." He glanced back at the sleek yacht behind him and over to Gwydian, leaving the choice up to the visually appealing 'runner as he kept a look out for other arrivals.




Outpost:
Rows and rows of clothes, and yet none of them seem to fit. It seems the price to society for the appearance of metahumans is the inability to stock clothes that fit everyone. And shopping for them secondhand certainly doesn't help matters any. But after an inordinate amount of time browsing the racks, Taylor narrows it down to two set of formal wear that matches his needs: one is two sizes too small, and the other a size too large. The price tag on both is around 20¥, so it won't be too much of a burden on his bank account, the main cost has been in minutes as the meeting time rapidly approaches.




Book:
It seems that every time Bruddah heads home, his children and wife are always surprised to see him. Sure, they smile and hug him appropriately, but their smiles are always hardened with a nervous edge, their hugs just a little bit too clingy. And this time was no different, as daddy informed them he had found a job. They all nodded their acceptance, and wished Bruddah the best of luck as he gathered his equipment and watched him go, the thought that this may be the last time they see their father and husband heavy on all their minds.




Azo:
The blinking box once again preceded Jack's high-pitched rush of words, his icon this time much more radiant. "Yes? Yes? The new suit? Am I liking it? No, not at all. I am loooving it! You heard it from me first, the flunkies at Zoé are going to be spewing coffee this time next week when they see your new look. What does this mean for us? Endoooorsemeeents! I'll get right on it, don't you worry your head. Now get in there!"




DevilDog:
The scene awaiting you is one right out of a vacation brochure. An ork and his three sons are strolling along casually with fishing equipment, already returning from an early morning expedition. An elderly couple of dwarfs amble around the dock, taking in the refreshing Spring air. Nothing seems out of the ordinary or dangerous, not even any visible security forces, although considering you're in Magnolia the watchful eye of the law probably hasn't overlooked you. Perhaps it might not be such a good thing to loiter in that car for too long at a time, especially considering you don't know what Riker and his group has used that sedan for in the past...




Vanya:
Of course, disasters were always more fun to watch from a distance, rather than participating in them directly. "yoUr ARbiTrARY mEETiNg tIMe haS aLMoST ComE," the reminder hissed in Kit's head like the rush of propane feeding an inferno. "HoW Can yOU HunT YOur pReY iF YoU'RE nOt eVEn at THe hUNTInG GrOUndS?"
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Wed Mar 31, 2010 4:15 pm

She still looked good. Smelled good. -Felt- good. Bruddah wasn't one for looking towards the past, especially when the present was such a huge and horrible NOW. Still, sometimes he wondered if he should've just stayed on with Hork. Gone back to the money and the running. Chase 'em, book 'em, move to the next.

And then he'll get home, grunt and give that sedate little smile to his brats. Take a deep breath of his wife's hair, sucking that scent so far down he's certain it's gotten in his soul, and then head back to a world that'd rather smother him in steamy drek than look at him twice. Home ain't where the hat's hung; It's where the soul's left. Out there, ain't got no mercy, ain't gonna get no mercy. Each 'click' of the shock n' lock's being loaded down like another nail on the door, keeping everything that ain't hard and heavy out. May not be biggest. May not be strongest.

He can sure as hell be the meanest.

Bruddah's mind is blank, a zen that many orients would find without the fancy humming if they'd just take a walk without an outside thought besides the next meal. His old boots carry him naturally, without hestiation, feet reading the cracks along the pavement like braile through the heavy soles. When the pavement starts getting smoother, when every other step isn't punctuated with 'pebbled' granite or ground down glass, he knows he's getting close. Nostrils flare.

Salt. Sea.

Bruddah takes a moment to flip open his comm, taking a look at the local time. 12:45. Working his tusked jaw again, the heavy ork pulls that brim low across his eyes and approaches the meeting point. Somebody fancy. Two fancies. Grey eye flick between the two as he saunters; After all, a case of mistaken identity might be a bad thing. This way, he can meander on past if it gets weird.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Wed Mar 31, 2010 4:18 pm

>NEW MESSAGE< I glance down to my comm and check it. So he wants to know why I still have the car... I haven't even been here long enough to see much, But one flashy looking guy meet with the target. "Ok. I hate putting myself out there, God knows i've been burned in the past but business is business and money is money."

I take a final long look out the deeply tinted rear windows just to be safe and make my exit from the vehicle. A couple slaps to the roof and the driver takes the signal and drives away. Now if anything goes south I have to rely on my legs. Uugh... Bright blue sky today... if only the heavens knew this beauty was to be the opening act of a possibly bloody day. I guess I have nothing left but to make the meet and greet. lets get this over with.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Wed Mar 31, 2010 5:30 pm

(((he'd take the size to large and that puts me at 1880 nuyen)))

he arrives way to late for his liking but with enough time to make the sursory case of the place. the immediate surroundings the probable exit strategies he takes all this in and looks for anyone that may have come from the 'reservations' as he is never sure when they will try jumping him. as he makes these reservations he makes small alterations in his suit to make sure they will not be in his way if he were to get in a brawl and would have to pull his knife. he reflects on an older situation where he forgot to make these alterations and nearly left the bar without his left leg... "never again will i make that mistake" he murmers to himself as he stands around and watches for the appropriate moment to make the meeting

when he sees a group of people that look like the type he should be meeting he walks up to the group "and who is mr johnson here?" he remarks flatly giving away no indication of why he stoped by but inquisitve enough to start up a good conversation
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Wed Mar 31, 2010 8:51 pm

An inward laugh. The alleys of Seattle were a maze, but they were his maze. "Ah, but Smolder, do you not know?" said Kit as the alley opened to sunlight. "We are already here."

Kit took a moment to breath in the ocean air, a baroque olfactory display of salt, fish, smoke, sludge, and gasoline. He felt Scald's contentment wash over him. How strange for a spirit of fire to love water so much, but Scald loved nothing more than a boiling ocean. He loved it so much that just seeing water made him happy, like a gourmet when confronted with a table of uneaten food.

Slitted yellow eyes scanned the docks. That fellow? Has a suitcase. Another approaches him and they exchange words. Must be him. The eyes look deeper.

"ThIS pUNy fleshling iS YoUr eMpLoYeR?" Contempt seethed from Smolder's voice. "i HaVe EATEN mOrE FormIDABle SoULs!"

Kit narrowed his eyes. "Do not tempt me. He seems to be nervous. Impatient, too. Good." The eyes sweep again. He was being paranoid, he knew, but better paranoid than dead. Besi--
Not so paranoid after all. Kit looked closer.
He pads over to a bench near the Johnson and curls up underneath it, as if to sleep. The soul steps out of the body, perfectly overlaid on the shell, and manifests there, completely still. Suddenly, Arpey hears a soft-spoken voice.
"Do not look around. There is a man watching you from the stairway that seems rather annoyed with you. Angry even--DON'T! LOOK! He is mundane. He cannot see what I am. You have called for my help. You have my attention. Speak."
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 8:51 am

With the rapidly approaching moment of truth, Arpey's nerves were cooling by the minute, a sense of dullness drifting over him. This was no different than any other presentation he had delivered, even if the recipients were professional criminals. Arpey let himself settle in his role: Mr. Johnson. He had a team to hire... once they all arrived. He seriously considered changing his method next time so he knew what the 'runners looked like in advance.

Speaking of which, Arpey couldn't tell if a passing ork was one of them or merely a bit too interested. In a turn of good luck though, two other men showed up, obviously there for the job, so Arpey spoke loud enough for all three to hear him. "You may call me Mr. Johnson, thank you all for showing up." He nodded to Colton, pleased that they were interested in getting straight down to business. "If you will all please wait on the yacht, I believe we can-" Suddenly he paused, his head tilting slightly as though hearing something far away. Then he nodded almost imperceptibly, gripping his suitcase under his arm. "Ah... yes," he glanced at the gathered individuals, trying to collect his thoughts.


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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 10:15 am

Trust. That was also a part of the game, and the most dangerous part. You had to trust that the Johnson really was a Johnson. You had to trust that there were situations outside the boundaries of the carefully scripted business spats and lawful ballets that only a criminal - a heavily armed criminal - could handle. If you couldn't muster even that much trust, you'd never get a job. You'd starve.

Bruddah paused once past the Johnson to stare down into the water, watching his own twisted and convorted reflection as it melded like fast melting wax. He then grunted, spat a load of hoc at the sineous version of himself, and adjusted his old beaten hat low on his head before turning back towards the Yacht. He had his guns. He had his guts. And he'd give as much trust as he could to get the job itself. Worse come to worse, he wasn't a -horrible- swimmer. But all that muscle and hard flesh came with a price beyond the obvious scars and missing pieces. Wasn't many places to ambush from the yacht anyways, save straight in; Made it easier to know where to look.

"Made fer fightin' an' fer winnin'." He grunts mostly to himself, before he follows the path the other three took, coming up on Arpey like a tri-vid cliche of what an ork was supposed to look like. Big Bad Bruddah.

"Fella.. Ya'll look like... ya'll c'use a solid hand..." He begins, working that tusked jaw. "Dun s'pose ya'll... be Mistah Jay?"
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 10:26 am

The ork made four, a good amount. The ghostly warning he had heard still spooked him though, and he was very interested in getting on with the meeting. "Yes, yes I'm Mr. Johnson," he confirmed to Bruddah, trying to keep his eyes from shifting about, thoughts of who might be watching him weighing heavily on his mind. "Very good, you're all here. Please, board the yacht quickly, it's time we were off."

Arpey held off on boarding until all the others had shuffled onto the yacht, every second he remained on the pier a painful delay holding him back from the relative safety of the boat. Once everyone else had boarded, he turned around, eyes scanning the buildings one last time before speaking to his unknown informant. "Alright, show yourself. Or..." thinking better of the idea of waiting around for the unseen mage to walk over, he reconsidered. "Join us on the yacht. I'll give you five minutes," he announced over his shoulder, turning away from the harbor and trotting up the boarding ramp, muttering something about 'better security next time.'

The scene that awaited the 'runners was one of mild luxury. A small man in a dark blue vest waved them over to a shaded observation deck in the back of the boat, complete with beach chairs and a glass table. He went around to each of them, asking if they would like anything to drink before disappearing inside cabin. Arpey joined the team shortly after, placing his suitcase on the deck next to him as he took a blue and white-striped chair. He held off from starting his pitch yet, trying to look like he was enjoying the sight, though his gaze kept straying back to the boarding ramp.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 11:09 am

Kit steps back into his body and boards the boat, making his way to one of the lawn chairs. He does not order anything, electing to observe the other four and his host.

Smolder growls. "i DISLiKE tHaT daNDy iN THe sUIt. He REEks oF PREtEntiON aND COWARDICE."
"yOU tHiNk EVERYONE ReeKS oF PREtEntIoN ANd cOwArDiCe." Scald.
Sand's words, grinding. "indeed. i believe those were your initial impressions of our young master as well. yet now you serve him just the same."
"dO NOT teSt ME, yOu OnYX hEADeD fOOL!" Smolder. "i cOUlD DEVOurE yOU if i SO chOsE!"
"Enough. These four look competent, at the very least. Hopefully, I will not need to kill any of them this time." Of course, the last batch of idiots also seemed competent in the beginning. Look how that ended up. What kind of fool tries to fight a fire with a tank of petrol?


Last edited by Vanya's Devil on Thu Apr 01, 2010 3:40 pm; edited 2 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 1:17 pm

"Chook." Grunts Bruddah to the man taking drink orders, those grey eyes regarding the rest of the 'crew' with a rather careful glance. After all, in every run there's almost always one psycho; The fellow who's brain snaps and he decides he's some tri-vid superhero. Bullets, guts, and a few body bags later, the run's blown. He tips the brim of his hat to the others, before squatting on top of one of the lawn chairs. Resting his weight without putting himself at a disadvantage - after all, he may still have to hit the deck if things go wrong, trust issues aside.

He then, with the same reserved patience in which he can do many things, simply watches the waves and the slowly bobbing boats on the water, letting the salt sea bring him quite a few more scents. Smells clean. Smells -rich-.

. o O (This one come out okay, might look at getting someplace nearby. Give 'em brats some air, a little breeze.) O o .

And food. Clean water. Something they don't have to drop tablets into to make it drinkable.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 3:05 pm

I approached the gangway to the yacht, and let my mind drift for a moment, to reflect on my situation. What would my life had been like had I not snapped on that damn hooligan so long ago? A criminal... My life really has changed, old boy. Now here I am, doing runs, throwing caution to the wind all in pursuit of some personal vendetta. I will think more on my personal situation later I decided, seeing as there were more pressing matters to attend to. First of which, sizing up my 'partners'. They seemed as though they knew a thing or two about running the streets so I didn't worry too much.

The server approached and I ordered a pint of whatever brew they had. "Man, I gotta stop this. It's not even late afternoon. Not like I even ordered something fancy and distinguished, I instinctively ordered a damn beer!"

Well, the Johnson seems to be distracted. I decide to peer over to the gangway and see if anything is amiss...

Hmm. A cat, huh? Must be no average cat. Damn shape changers, Cowardly way of camouflauging, if ya ask me. But maybe it will come in handy


Last edited by DevilDog on Thu Apr 01, 2010 3:41 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Updating with perception test results)
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 4:50 pm

A cat. Huh. And it's sitting on one of the chairs. Bruddah glances down to said feline, and then to the last of this strange meeting. Bars? He's done bars before. Alleyways, warehouses, even a backyard once. But never a fancy yacht. The ork grunts a moment as he settles upon his haunches, reaching up to rub one of nubs that was all that was left of his ears. And glances to the cat again.

. o O (Good eating, once you get past the hair. More meat than a rat, too. Real meat, not soychow.) O o .

Then he turns his grey eyes back to the other boats in the harbor, people watching. Looking for too much attention being thrown their way, rather than folks casually getting their floating toys ready.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Thu Apr 01, 2010 9:32 pm

Gwydian stepped up onto the boat, pausing to let his senses drink in the scene, the brilliant blue sky, the crisp sent of salt on the air, the gentle rocking of the boat - all dumped straight to the sim-rig and recorded in its full glory. He let his carefuly controlled emotions spike every so slightly with anticipation and pleasure at the job to come, causing his hair to shift every so slightly, nudging away from golden blond and toward strawberry. He gestures to the waiter. "Rum and coke, on the rocks." Sitting he turns to study the other runners and the setup. Nice place for a meet. Worked well with the new image for this season - beat a smokey bar anyways. Shruging slightly, he leaned back and waited for the J to begin or the man to bring his drink.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Fri Apr 02, 2010 10:53 am

After hearing the Johnsons request, he would take a cursory look at the boat then head up onto it.When he is asked 'what he would like to drink?,' "Jack and coke... heavy on the Jack" would be his reply. Of course it would,all men drank on the heavy side. Especially when they were a drunk. He would take a seat on the boats rail that would allow him to roll over backwards, thus dropping him into the water. This was,of course, should something go south and he need to make a quick getaway. While he sat there, he watched a cat climb onto the deck. He would then raise an eyebrow, "shapechanger are you?" he muttered softly at the cat while awaiting a simple yes or no response from the cat,wondering if it would ignore him entirely.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Fri Apr 02, 2010 10:56 am

The cat licks his paw and preens.
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Fri Apr 02, 2010 11:11 am

Uneasiness spikes through Bruddah as the boat starts moving away from land; Thats going to make it real damn hard to swim without having to dump all the armament he's got attached - which is one of the many reasons he's squatting on a chair rather than laying back on it. He straightens up to his full height, rolling his shoulders and moving towards the railing. One beefy, calloused hand resting on it while he watches the shore receede...

. o O (Takes care of potential eaves droppers, I suppose.) O o .
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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Fri Apr 02, 2010 12:00 pm

Only briefly did the rumble run through the yacht before it died back down to a more quiet level, the giant engines hidden under elegant curves roaring to life and then falling into a comforting purr. With visible skill, the yacht eased away from the harbor, navigating the mess of boats at a painfully slow speed through Salmon Bay. On board, the passengers hardly noticed a difference; the drinks placed on the thick glass table didn't even slosh from the movement, so smooth was the water today. The sight of the boats and buildings passing by on either side gave off a relaxing feeling that matched the refreshing breeze funneled by the ship's design into their sitting area.

Now that they were on their way, Arpey felt more confident speaking up to address the group. The presence of the cat still gave him pause, but he cleared his throat to attract everyone's attention all the same. "Thank you all for joining me here today, I apologize for the... unorthodox nature of the meeting location. I- it was important we had a-" he paused, nodding with a smile at the server who placed the cup of synthahol on the table closest to Bruddah and carefully set down Gwydian's rum and cola. As soon as he retreated back into the cabin, Arpey resumed. "It was important we had a location to speak without fear of being conspicuous. I can't exactly afford any attention at this point."

It was an awkward segue way, but Arpey held off a grimace; it would have to do. "And that is why I need your assistance. I'm afraid a rather sensitive matter has come up, and my com- the client I represent needs a task carried out... under the table, if you will." Arpey glanced at each of them meaningfully. "I know your time is valuable, so I shall- will give it to you straight. I need you to deliver a package inside a secure facility. It is not a high security target, but they will have guards, and surveillance. Perhaps even magical security, though I doubt anything more serious than watcher spirits."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "The difficulty arises from the fact that, if you are noticed by security, you will have to cover your tracks. If you so much as knock out a single guard, you need to provide a reason for your activities for the followup investigation. I don't care how you do it, so long as the delivery of this package," he lifted the suitcase for everyone to see, "is not discovered at any point. Please, I cannot stress that part enough. Obviously it is preferable that you be completely unnoticed in your activities. But you may wish to have some sort of diversion set up anyway, in case you leave some condemning evidence without realizing it."

"Your pay will depend on how well you accomplish the job. If you manage to make the drop and, in a few days, I have not heard anything through my contacts about your activities (and believe me, I will know), then you will be paid in full, twenty thousand nuyen each. If you make the drop but incur an investigation in the process, your compensation will be delayed until I can determine if you've successfully diverted attention from your real goal or not. If you have, you will receive twelve thousand nuyen each. If you have not..." Arpey sighed heavily, the ramifications of the 'have not' aspect pressing on his chest like weight. "If you have not, then this entire endeavor will have been in vain, and you will have cost me dearly. And if you cost me dearly, it will cost you dearly." His tone kept it from being a threat, in spite of his seriousness. If anything, he just sounded tired. "And finally... if you are detected or otherwise unable to make the delivery without giving away your goal and manage to escape without alerting security of your purpose, there will be five hundred nuyen for each of you as compensation, so long as you return the package in a timely manner so I can find another, more competent team."

With the discussion of numbers out of the way, Arpey quickly moved on. "There are a few more things, and then if any of you have any questions I will be happy to answer if I can. I have the name and picture of your contact within the destination, and how he can be recognized. He has already been paid in full and is expecting you tonight. Yes..." he paused, nodding grimly. "The operation must take place tonight. I'm very sorry, I would have liked to give you more time but my hand has been forced, and this must be done quickly. I believe I have already taken that into account when determining your salary."

"And finally, in addition to the... five..." Arpey glanced at the cat, still waiting for it to provide some proof it was, indeed, here for the job, "of you, there is another who will be joining you. Weeping Crane?" He called out towards the cabin. "Will you come join us please?"


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PostSubject: Re: Loose Ends   Fri Apr 02, 2010 12:12 pm

Not a solid tusk in the entire group outside of himself. Bruddah takes a moment to work his jaw around that distasteful thought; Smoother monkies, pointy-eared keebs galore, but no one with a mouth that ain't filled with itty bitty baby teeth. Grey eyes flick to the cat briefly, and narrow in thought.

. o O (... baby teeth and baby fangs) O o . He amends.

Then the Johnson comes out. Bruddah turns away from watching the water, crossing thick arms over his chest while the monkey jabbers and finally gets to business. Bruddah sweeping his hat off his head, running a hand across his torn and scarred features. Can't be spotted, thats where the big money lies. If spotted, be busy doing something else - not to hard to come up with something nasty to be doing inside a corp-house. But that'll loose him practically half the pay. And finally, with a roll of his shoulders, Bruddah swings his arms loose and tucks his thumbs inside the waist-band of his pants as he grunts.

"Yeah. Dat 'case ya'll so par'ticlar 'bout.. got explosive? Ya'll got maps o' dis place? Sec'rty details? Ya'll askin' a mighty lot fer a single night, wit' no pre-plannin'..." Bruddah pulls the brim of his hat low, working that jaw again. "Fer twenny kay."
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