Shadowrun: Detroit (IC)

[Azseth]

Gregor woke up on the floor where they left him and listened, hearing the clack of keys on a keyboard and two girls talking. All seemed safe enough so he opened his eyes and sat up. The dwarf girl turned and looked at him but Julie seemed engrossed with whatever she was reading on the monitor. Gregor found it odd that as much of a tech head as she was, she still used an old school desktop at home. Maybe it was a vintage thing, who knows.

The dwarf just stared at him, seeming to maybe size him up or…was she checking him out? If there was one thing he was not proficient at, it was girls so he felt himself get somewhat nervous as he cleared his throat. “Hey, Julie, look I’m really sorr—.”

She spun when she heard his voice and her face was aglow, she started rambling off information right away. “Ok so I looked like you said and oh my gosh, you got some high speed shit put into you. Some of the stuff isn’t, well, even real, like you said look up bio-adrenaline and that’s like, primo military high end shit and I it’s like adrenaline but on, well, adrenaline and it can sustain most people for hours on just that alone assuming their heart doesn’t explode but from what I read it was only tested by the military and never put into production and then your chrome, holy shit, most of that stuff is kindasorta available but not really and your system is super advance, I don’t think this stuff is even available to military now, were you IN the military? You never told me you were, but I mean, I always had a thing for guys in uniform, well not Lone Star, or like, McDonalds, but whatever but—.”

“OK ok stop. Fuck. What happened to my shirt, where’s my stuff?”

“We had to rip your shirt off. Julie thought you were just so sexy she had—.”

Julie shoved Alana roughly, “you bitch, shut up. You were bleeding Greggie, I guess you, got hit or whatever. You’re stuff is in the table right there, I didn’t’ want a bunch of big guns on the floor if my landlord or someone came by. What happened?”

He grimaced, kind of regretting having came here all of a sudden. “Gang violence,” was all he said in reply. He hoped all would be well for Julie, and this other girl. He didn’t think anyone could have tracked him, but you never know. Then again, he told her from day one, if anyone ever kicks down your door, you tell them EVERYTHING, give them what they want and more. He didn’t pay her enough to put her life at risk, and he didn’t tell her anything detrimental to his own situation, so nothing she said would mean anything. Sure they’d know he had a fake SIN, they’d get some of his creds, they’d know some of the ware that Julie loaded into him, but that was about it.

He stood up and the shirt and jacket both stuck to his back, so he peeled it off and tossed the jacket down onto the floor, he’d clean it after. The shirt though, he just casually tossed it into the trash and looked around. He felt naked and extremely uneasy as he could feel the eyes of the two burning into him. It was odd that a few hours ago, he’d have liked the attention from Julie but now it was just awkward. He was going to ask to shower, but decided it was in his best interest to just get out of here.

“I’m gunna, uh. Get going. I’m really sorry, about…all this. I’ll slot you some creds, just lemme know what will cover this.” He turned around and began to gather his weapons back up, hearing the whispering and giggling and wanted to just yell or something. He shook his head and ran another quick weapon diagnostics and made sure all was in order as he picked up his lined jacket and threw it on.

“Julie, I’m really sorry about all this. I just, I guess, remember what we talked about when we first started doing business.”

“Yeah, I know but do you have to? I mean you can shower.” He shook his head, and opened the door and when he closed the door her heard some girly chatter and he made his way down the hall. He’d go home and rest, get his head together. Sure he could go out and try to find the guys who betrayed him or whatever, but this was not some cool movie or book where he kills his way through an entire building, finds the dude, says some sweet one liner and shoots the guy through a window. Gregor had a few things he wanted to do with life, like sleep and get some deep dish pizza and maybe find the guy who set him up…well, the FIRST time, but he did NOT want to try to run into a Corps secure building and get his face shot off. No thanks.

He made his way out into the street, that same dull gray around as usual, and not even half a block down, it started to dump snow over him again. Sweet. Good looking out Gods.

[BlessedWrath]

As she sat there, trying to figure all of this out, Jayce studied Zarah's expression. He knew what worry looked like; he'd just never seen it on her face before. This was big. He had already been thinking about what was coming, as well as what he'd just gotten away from. Internally, something clicked. He slotted his credchip and returned the remainder of Zarah's advances.

"Sorry, Zarah," he mumbled. "I can't be here for this. I know you don't care much about people's pasts, but mine is going to catch up with me if I don't move again. Truth is, I got lazy. It's a miracle they didn't find me. With all this coming to a head, they definitely will."

She just stared at the computer. They'd had some fun times, though Zarah never allowed herself to get close to any of her professional contacts. Losing one of her best runners was not going to help her in the coming days.

"I understand," she said weakly, still skimming the data. Her worry was replaced with determination. "Just do me one favor?"

"Anything."

"Stay in contact. If you have to grow a new face, I understand, but I'll know it's you. You don't have to be here to be of help to me."

Jayce chewed on that for a moment. Connecting himself to any one person from a past he was trying to wipe could be dangerous, but a Johnson lived in that danger daily. She wouldn't burn him intentionally. Besides, keeping a contact like her might help him disappear. His mind was made up before he had time to clear his throat.

"All right. But I don't exist. Period. I was never here."

He slid out of the booth and stopped by Zarah's bodyguard. He furrowed his brow and looked up at the scowling face one last time. Although he didn't say it, there was a moment in which the thug almost seemed to understand.

"Don't worry," the giant man growled.

Within twenty-four hours, Jayce was nothing but a memory for the citizens of Detroit. His site went offline, expertly wiped and replaced with just a white page. Any trace of his credchip transactions were erased or rerouted to an alternate number. As far as history or the citizens of Detroit were concerned, he was unmade.

[Munk]

Keita turned away to work on the next patient as a male elf entered the clinic. Not bad looking, actually. Definitely not a patient. He produced a small emerald green card from his inner pocket.

"You are the man who healed my...client last night." Bayrd nodded, although it was clear that it wasn't a question. How the frag did this guy know that, though? Guy'd been unconscious since Bayrd saved him. No way he could've messaged this elf.

He was asked to call the commcode on the card by the end of the week as two bulky parameds entered the church and carried the unconscious man out of there. Bayrd accepted the card, and when the elf had left, he waved it over his commlink. The five hundred nuyen were transferred to his shadow account. Clearly this guy was no simple wageslave. Five hundred nuyen in this neighbourhood was quite a bit. Bayrd had a feeling he better call that commcode sooner rather than later.

---

Today was not as bad as yesterday. The snow was still coming down hard, but it seemed most SINless people had found shelter somewhere. Or maybe they were dead. Either way, Bayrd had his hands full. He'd pretty much been able to resist the Drain from his healing today, and even after seven hours of treating frostbite, hypothermia and pneumonia, he felt pretty good—tired, but good. He was on his ninth cup of 'kaf, and was beginning to feel a slight tremor in his hands from all the caffeine. He needed to take a whiz.

---

When he finally stepped out of the church, he had a slight Drain headache. He grimaced as he was hit by a blast of snow, but did not raise his Armor. He couldn't afford to take that chance again.

Walking home, he fished the business card from his pocket and examined it. The snowflakes were reflected as blurry white globes in the shiny surface of the card. He put on his AR gear and dialed the number for this "Oz."

[Hagazussa]

Tressa left her apartment and hurried through the dirty streets towards the Forester building. The snow was not as bad today but it was still cold. Tressa kind of missed the snow, over night the clean, white power cover had become dirty and gray, falling snow masked some of the ugliness of the streets and the young mage lamented the falling snow which provided a temporary illusion of innocence.

Tressa had to walk for a good half an hour to get to the Forester building, but this early in the day, even if the streets where never safe, they where not as bad as during the night. Soon the large Forester skyscraper towered before the young mage. Thomas Forester was some rich company owner and his building housed his offices. Trressa could not care less about the offices the large building housed the first floor however had shops and a nice cafe which had a layout that made it just the right mix of public enough to be safe and secluded enough to be a good place to talk. Tressa sits down on a cold bench outside the building to wait for the man who had contacted her, a bit nervous over what he might want.

After the young mage had waited for perhaps fifteen minutes the young paramedic she had met the night before the one who had thanked her for helping the wounded man in the snow made his way across the street and sat down on the bench beside Tressa.
"Ehm...hi."
The man said. Tressa turned her attention towards the man and smiles.
"Good day, I am here, you said you needed my help. I do not mean to be rude but this whole situation is making me nervous, what is it that you want?"
The paramedic gave a slight smile then he said.
"You have nothing to worry about Miss, I just want to offer you a job. What about we go into the cafe and talk, that is warmer than out here, and I will explain the whole situation to you."
Tressa sigh then she nods and stands.
"All right, let us go, but you are buying me lunch."
Tressa gave a slight smile and begun to walk towards the entrance to the Forester building and the warm cafe that waited within.

[Azseth]

NPC POST

The AR session went live and in a few short seconds, Oz appeared on the screen. Well, an avatar of Oz anyway. In AR, Oz was visible as a pirate in vertically stripped leggings, a white shirt and black vest. His hair and beard were long, unkept and black and upon closer inspection appeared to have a powdery, grey tinge to them from salt spray. Although he didn't look all too professional, he had a swashbuckler's style about him and even here there exuded an air of confidence and charisma. There was also a patch over his left eye.

"Oi, good day," the pirate Oz said, giving a gracious and exaggerated bow. "Glad you took the time to get with me. I know me means of getting with you are a bit unorthodox, but I'm happy you looked past that. I'm Oz. Hope you don't mind the AR session or my appearance. I'm in an occupation where my face being broadcast all over the Matrix would be...detrimental, putting it lightly. I trust you are well?"

The whole time he talked, he never ceased moving, always shifting his weight from one foot to the other, or massaging his forearms, sometimes stroking his beard.

END NPC POST

Meanwhile......

Gregor was sitting in his room, mulling over what had happened. He hadn't heard anything unusual from anyone in light of what happened, still the normal porn/cheap chrome spam and some random gaming messages from some guildies. All seemed quiet up until his commlinked flashed NEW MESSAGE!

Scrooge. Good day. Looking for a painter. Got your number from an associate. Interested?

Possibly. What can you tell me about the job?

Nothing here. Can you meet me in the matty?

Sure. Lemme set up chum.

Very well. There is a third party, is that going to be a problem.

Nope.

Good. Toodles. See you in a few.

The whole situation wasn't unusual in the world of a runner, but initially he was just suspicious as to whether or not this had anything to do with the botched run from a few days prior. Most likely not, but the moment you stopped looking over your shoulder in Detroit and the world of running was the moment you could no longer look over your shoulder anymore.

NEW MESSAGE!

Seriously, again? He opened this one and shook his head.

Hey, it's Alana. Julie's friend. Wanna meet? Seeing as how I cleaned you up and all, figure you owe me lunch or something. And maybe. We could do biz together?

In the middle of something now. Lemme get back with you in a few.

Ok. Don't make me wait, I don't like it. Or next time I'll let you bleed out on the floor, dick.

He shook his head and took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts, forcing himself to focus. Prior to him losing most of his body and his magical abilities with it, focusing and finding his center had a lot more importance. However, in times like this, it still helped him relax slightly and gather his thoughts.

[Munk]

Bayrd had seen enough bizarre Matrix personas to not be fazed by the pirate that adressed him. His own persona was a cute blue teddy bear. It had come with his 'runner commlink, and its animation was crude, its textures blocky and its AR voice was the high-pitched squeal one might except from such a cutesy avatar, but Mayrd couldn't help but like it. After all, they were both Bear.

He turned down the opacity of the pirate in order to see where he was going. Looked like it would be okay for him to focus on the conversation.

"I'm just fine. You're not the first person to leave your card, but you're the first to do it while hauling an unconscious guy away. I'm guessing you're not the Elf who made contact?"

The pirate grinned. "That's right, mate. You're an observant one, eh? I like that, I do. Let's just call 'im my assistent. Handles lotta my day-ter-day biz. Guys like us need our privacy, am I right? Wouldn't want people knockin' on your door twenty-four seven, eh? This one bloke found me out coupla years back. Wouldn't leave me alone until I loaned him some money. He—anyway, not my point. But since we're talking about privacy, I might as well get ter the point. You don't do very much to hide the fact that you're Awakened, do ya?"

Bayrd frowned. Just what he needed—an arrogant pirate lecturing him on keeping his gift a secret. Still, seemed like he knew enough. No point in denying it. "What's it to you?" he asked, making his persona cross its chubby arms.

"Oi, no worries, mate. I'm not out ta getcha. Enough drekheads out there who don't like Awakened, I don't feel like joining 'em. I just wanna offer yer a job." The pirate stroked his beard, trying his best to look persuading.

Bayrd was quick to reply. "Not interested. I don't care if you're Mitsuhama, Ares, whatever. I'm not gonna be a spellslinger in a suit."

The pirate chuckled. His gruff voice, no doubt designed to sound like it had been hardened by years at sea, sounded almost ridiculous with that Australian accent. "Wouldn't wantcha anyway if ya were. We've got enough mages shootin' fireballs at everything, taking blood money fer using their gift. Nah mate, we need someone to be the good guys, and Healers definitely belong in that category. 'Sides, I hear you've been doing quite a bit of healing in this line of work anyway."

This Oz was a Shadowrunner! It made a lot more sense now. A lot of people made sure to keep their identities a secret, but Shadowrunners—and especially fixers, which was what bayrd assumed he was—worked even harder in that regard. He made the teddy bear emote a waiting pose. He wanted to hear Oz out.

"I've got some plans fer the future, and I need some good people to help me do that. I'm not a fan of repeatin' myself, so I'll be bringin' in another bloke who'll be gettin' the same offer. He probably won't be showin' his face either. Guys like us need our privacy, am I right? I'm adding him to the conversation now, hang tight, mate."

A few seconds passed (and Bayrd saw what looked like a demon rat scurry across the street with a dead cat in its mouth), and next to the pirate another persona appeared—a video game representation of an Ork, wearing some kind of fantasy armor.

[Azseth]

It took a few minutes before he felt he was ready to do business. He kicked back on his couch and jacked fully into AR and shook his head when he took note of the other 2 present people--well, avatars. A bear and a pirate. Hmmm. What's next, Daffy Duck? He shook his head again. His own avatar wasn't the most professional, but it was far from ludicrous. Well...maybe not. Garrosh Hellscream was a character from a MMO he played, a very historic figure in it, and an orc, so he figured what the hell. It occurred to him that, after having taken a few moments to calm and relax he was in a better mood, he was definitely not in a GOOD mood. He could use a good skin-trid right about now.

He studied the two in silence and waited. There wasn't much you could tell from someone by their avatar or persona in the matrix, more so when dealing with Runners and the such. Shit, just because the pirate was male didn't mean the person on the other end of the 'trix was. There was silence when he entered and he wasn't about to break it, so he just forced a yawn and waited.
"I'll take it yer Scrooge mate?" He nodded slightly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Oi, not one fer talkin are ya? Speak softly, big stick and all that eh? So I got yer name from a friend of a friend of a friend kinda like, and I've had the privilege of getting to know the mean blue bear over here fer a few moments. I know that some...fellows in the same line of work as yourself don't take too kindly to not meeting face to face, but I also heard that you would oblige me so, and here we are."

Does this guy ever shut up? Gregor crossed his arms over his chest and leered impatiently at the two. Already he assumed The Mouth was the fixer who contacted him, Oz, and the other dude, or dudette, was someone he was going to be tagged with. Initially, he immediately though to say no--anyone taking the form of a huggable blue teddy bear didn't seem likely to be Gregor's first choice of "People I'd Like To Run With," but he figured he'd wait to reserve judgement.

...Between UCAS Army, Lone Star and the shadows, he HAD to have ran with worse...

"Alright, I see ya must be late for a prior engagement or somethin' of the sort mate. I'm sure we'll be better acquainted somewhere'n the near future as it is. I know we've all got that need for our privacy and such, but by no means should that perturb us from at least having some conversation or somethin' at some point. Hell, stranger things've happened I reckon. To be quite honest, a few blokes I wo--." Gregor cleared his throat--very pointedly. "Ah, no reason'a get all nonplus over there. Fine fine. With no further ado, I'll introduce myself, you'll do the same and we'll start conducting business, yeah? Standin' before the both'a ya is Oz. Not my Christian name by any means, but it serves. I'm a business man and would like to call on you from time to time, mainly together, sometimes not. In case your speech filters are not breaking down my speak correctly, let me be frank. I'm a fixer. I'm looking for a team of runners." He took a grandiose bow at this point and let his eyes fall on the hulking orc.

"I'm Gregor. I'm willing to listen to your offer," was all he said. He kept his speech limited and made no movement. It was difficult to be that "dumb ork" on the Matrix with all the spelling, grammatical and speech adjusting software, so he had to try really, really hard. But he knew if he shut off ALL software, it would be obvious, because even a dumb ork wants to SOUND smart if the tools were cheap and readily available.

[Munk]

The pirate clasped his hands together, clearly pleased. "Fantastic, mate. Now, Scrooge, this is Bayrd. Bayrd, Scrooge." Bayrd's persona waved at the fantasy Ork. Clearly the man behind the teddy bear wasn't fully aware of how ridiculous he looked.

"Now," Oz continued, "By know you've prob'ly realized that I'm talking 'bout Shadowrunnin', so I'll skip the pretenses an' get right ter the point: The two o' ya are here because I'm looking to move into some more, ah, organized work. I want ter put together a 'running team with handpicked 'runners. The two of ya popped up on my radar, an' I wanna see what you've got. Ya know, send ya on a job, see how things work out. Obviously I'm not planning on hiring you right away, but I'd definitely like to see how you do. Then, if everything works out the way we wannit to, I plan on setting yer up with a lotta runs, You won't be outta biz, that's fer sure. I know that tends to be a problem in our line o' work."

Bayrd's interest had been piqued. You never knew with people in the Matrix, but this one didn't seem like he wanted to murder them. At least not with his own bare hands. The Ork didn't seem like much of a talker, but he seemed serious. Bayrd probably wouldn't mind running with him—at least he wouldn't be the weirdest teammate he'd had. But surely Oz wasn't expecting just the two of them to form a team?

Apparently, Gregor had had the same thought. He spoke up: "I sure as drek hope you've got more than two people in mind for this."

The pirate grinned. "Naturally, mate. Yer the first two. I've got a few others in mind, but I figured, hey, the sooner I get some of you on board, the better. Had a team last year, half of 'em flaked on the night of the run. Couldn't have that. They got a visit from some big, unpleasant Trolls the next day. So, ya know, I wanted to make sure yer at least interested. Whaddayasay?"

[Azseth]

To be honest, Gregor hated matrix meets. It was hard to gauge people, hard to tell demeanors. Face to face, you could get a read on most people, but that wasn’t an option here. All in all it didn’t sound too bad, and perhaps this fixer would have more connections and more pull and perhaps that would lead to information about his bigger issue: being framed for murder and what not.

He looked at the bear for a moment, his glare rough and judging, scrutinizing. This was mostly for show, because a few moments prior he had decided he’d do it. He studied them, one after another then huffed loudly. “I’m in. Long as the creds are whiz.”

“Now that’s the spirit that beat the Nazis, yeah? Great. An’ whattabout you mate? I know you two--” The pirate moved his gaze over to the bear and studied him, still staggering slightly as he studied him. At this point, Gregor ceased trying to get any kind of fix on the two or paying much attention. He went through and cleared a handful of messages from one of his inboxes and half listened to the two.

His mind went over what jobs they’d be in for. Since this was a new gig, he had zero idea what to expect. While Gregor didn’t really care which corp was killing what corp or what political agenda his runs were helping further (or hinder), he DID care about living. While so far it never came to that, he needed to figure out what he’d do in the event a run was either over his head or over the heads of his team.

“—going on, but I assure ya that ya’ll will get the best of attention from me, because yer success is—,” at this point Gregor cleared his throat loudly, veeery loudly and exhaled in an angry snort.

“Ah, seems someone has a prior engagement. Sorry, I tend to be a bit long winded. So shammy, what say you?”

[Munk]

Bayrd took a few seconds to answer, but there was little doubt in his voice. "I'm in. 'Least for one run."

He felt Bear would approve. It was always hard to know for sure, as Bear rarely gave him direct advice or orders. He hadn't heard from it in weeks, and its visits were few and far between. Most of the time Bayrd had to make decisions based on his gut feeling, and Bear had rarely been disappointed in him. Throughout the years Bayrd had gotten a pretty good idea of what Bear liked and didn't like, and for some reason Bear liked Shadowrunners.

He couldn't put a finger on it, but this felt good, felt right. Worst case scenario, someone would try to kill him. He could deal with that, he had before.

"So, Oz," his avatar said, its cartoon voice emerging from a stitched mouth that never moved, "You got a run planned out yet? I assume you're gonna let us meet up beforehand, get an idea of each other's skills, gear, whatever."

The wind was blowing harder now. Even with the opacity turned way down on his glasses, he was struggling to see much further than a few yards ahead. A few other huddled figures were braving the elements, obviously freezing their hoops off. Bayrd was also freezing. Once again he considered casting an Armor spell, but the risk was still too great. He'd been a fool for using it in the first place.

Oz responded quickly, his pirate persona still grinning madly. "Yeah, I've got a run lined for for ya, mate. But I'm waiting with that'un until ya get to know each other a little better. Our mate here seems to be busy, so maybe he should set a date." Bayrd's persona nodded. He didn't exactly have a day job to tend to. Oz turned to the cartoon Ork. "Greg, you wanna make an appointment with Bayrd here? Get to know whether he likes long walks down the beach or a good trid?"