LC's eye twitched when the lights changed, in an instant she had removed her favorite pistol from her back holster and aimed it, along with the assault rifle, at this 'Jewel' character. "Mimi's death, huh?" Her eyes went from there-is-a-distinct-possibility-that-this-elf-is-getting-kneecapped to I-might-kill-everyone. "Did Johnson want this fuckbox alive? I have a mind to play hide-and-seek with his his extremities," she spoke through gritted teeth, her muscles tensed up like she might accidentally break the pistol grip on her assault rifle - there was, of course, no need for her two lose two friends in one night. Something deep in her stayed her hand, but her patience was most certainly not infinite.
Jewel slowly pulled out of the Matrix making sure to jack out without doing any damage to himself or his sub-systems. The elf raised his hands, gently wiggling his fingers, "Personally I like the Vory, get you everything you want, and one of the few people who still understand honor," He looked at the Ork laying in a pool of his own blood, "Now... That is unfortunate..." He said, he locked eyes with Bayrd, and then LC, "I'm going to talk slowly, not to be patronizing, or insulting, but to be as clear as possible. I did not hurt your friend. This Club has very simple safety procedures to make sure we don't get undesirables, and I'm sorry to say your friend was a casualty."
"I didn't kill her, the proprietor of this club, which I have no relation too, did." He gestured by jutting his chin, "But it seemed you have already taken care of that small problem. Now, if you wanted me dead, I'd be dead already, so shall we walk and talk?" Jewel stood stock still, "Preferably with less guns pointed at me?"
Last edited by Turtlicious; 4 Weeks Ago at 08:38 AM.
Bayrd felt more at ease once Jewel jacked out. He'd had no intentions of carrying out a full conversation with a room full of monitors. He still wanted to rip his elven spleen out, though—at least until Jewel informed him that the dead ork on the floor was the one responsible. His blood cooled, and he felt his rage slowly disappear into the ether. He hadn't gotten to hurt Mimi's murderer himself, but this was the next best thing.
Was this the kid they were supposed to extract? It wouldn't surprise him; technomancers were valuable. No wonder Johnson wanted one for himself. But one working with the Vory? That's dangerous business.
With a quick thought he sent a message to his team, well aware that the technomancer would most likely be able to listen in as well as if he'd spoken out loud:
"What do you say, chummers? I'm still not completely against ventilating this guy, but he seems to have something on his mind. Almost like he expected us. What do we do—fight? Flight? Pleasant conversation?"
LC gave a growl and holstered her lucky pistol behind her back before removing her assault rifle's line of fire from the center of his chest. "Make a wrong move and you'll look pretty funny trying to type with no fingers," she barked at him, obviously not very happy with the situation as a whole. Though, she found her opportunity to saunter behind the bar and snag a bottle of some expensive stuff she'd never have cared to buy on her salary; she figured that with the bartender, and apparent owner, lying face down and quite dead there wasn't really someone trying to call dibs on the alcohol. She popped the top off and took a swig, muttering to herself, "Well, that tastes much better without the date rape in it..."
She would rather let the big angry ol' bear take care of the greasy little elf, he could use a little roughing up and, well...either of them were near as like to kill him if he said something stupid, rather than just giving him to the Johnson. For all intents and purposes, though...the loss had been a bit too great for one mission already, a dead orc and a dead friend. Good as she was at it, LC knew she'd never be cut out for a job that didn't involve shooting people, she didn't actually enjoy killing all that much.