GM: Hardy
Players: Aeon, Simone, Criticalfault, Dekkar, Viktor, Critter, Thog
Synopsis: Runners are hired to put the fix in on the undefeated Poli-club champ.
Date: May 14, 2070
It's just another night in the streets of Denver. Lone Star cruisers coast by, looking bored while gangers and other street people mock them behind their backs. The word is out that Mama Wu is looking to hire runners for a piece of work. You can find her at Wu's Asian Market in the UCAS Sector. It's known as a place where displaced Asian Meta's can go to get their home countries products.
Aeon is anything but Asian, and knows little about the culture but what she sees on the trid. Oh, and a run she did back in the day to steal from Jimmy Choo. A smile comes to the gnome's face as she remembers that one. The look of surprise on that triad enforcer's face as the little girl with the little gun took him down. Her bike is the worse for wear today, dusty and with a few dents that weren't there before, but she seems happy enough, strolling into the market after parking in on of the bike-parking spots. She looks like (and is) a warrens rat, in moldy leathers and generally filthy-looking. She immediately realizes she doesn't know what Mama Wu is supposed to look like. "Frag."
Sixty years ago it was a novelty to see someone zooming down the highway on a tiny micro-motorcycle. Now however, its called 'metahuman controls'. Critter streaks down the streets of Denver, her motorcycle whipping around slower vehicles. She keeps her shoulders low, her head tilted back to cut down on wind resistance. Eventually she makes it to Wu's Asian Market. She thumbs the kill switch, pulls the keys and rolls the bike out of sight. Standing up she stretches a little before she heads inside.
Upon receving a e-mail Critical opens the file and scans over the floating letter icon while he floats about inside his terminal slave. He nods and logs out gathering his gear and telling Scalpel's hes got work and to wait up for him with a medkit handy in case things go bad. Damn fine having a medical genius as a roomate. Finally he makes the call to a cab company and waits outside for them. Once they arrive he piles in and heads to the Asian district where he finds Wu's Asian Market and heads in the back stopping for a moment and asking about a few strange items he considers cooking up. He grabs an arm full of wierd Asian food and heads into the back.
Simone hears of old Mama Wu's need for assistance from Salen, her Tai Chi teacher and general provider of sage wisdom.
Salen, a Cambodian elf woman, ends the private training session with a period of meditation before mentioning Wu's request and departing with a gentle bow. Simone is then left on her own to perform any further meditation in the studio or to follow up on Salen's ever-patient request to assist Ms. Wu. She chooses the latter, taking her scooter back to her apartment to shower before making the trip to the Asian Market.
Dekkar goes where the work is. He finds his way down the roads in his home sector. He takes corners at higher speed when he knows he can get away with it, and seems to be developing skill with his bike as time goes on. It seems that his leather armored jacket doubles as his riding jacket that never comes off. He parks and secures his bike in the parking lot for the market, and heads into the market, looking for indications of where to go to meet with the J.
"How much is this?" The shopkeeper doesn't even look up at the elf holding the plastic bag full of frozen dumplings. The elf looks tired an doesn't seem to want to deal with the slight. He repeats the question in Cantonese, the words stumbling out haphazardly as he dusts off an old tongue. Looking up in suprise, the shopkeeper replies and the elf grunts, tossing the dumplings into a battered ALICE pack on the counter. He slots the stick and shoulders the pack. He tarries for a few moments and the shopkeeper, annoyed that the elf hadn't left yet, looks up. The elf sings out a question, the language coming more fluidly now. The woman grunts and jerks her head at the building across the street. Unwilling to spend another night on the street, Viktor leaves the shop and heads to Wu's Asian Market, forcing his wary limbs to function.
Pulling up her goggles and removing her helmet, Critter brushes away the road dust from her tiny features. She tucks the helmet under her right arm and she steps into the building. She leans back a little to take in the world that taller people take for granted, examining things that would be at human height.
The exterior of the shop shows what lies within. Large windows cross the front of the shop, showing easily the range of Asian food and other products in the store. As you enter the store, the smells of Kim Chi, Ginger root, various forms of hanging meat and other unidentifiable items assail your senses. The heat in the store has to be almost to the 90 degree mark.
The entire store is populated by metas at this particular moment. Behind the counter, a dwarf checks out an old ork couple, to the random orks stocking the shelves, you get a feeling this is a place humans rarely frequent. Considering the reception most Meta's get from Asians, having their own place to shop for those items would be predictably along the same lines but in reverse.
Directed to the back of the shop, as usual there is a small restaurant, not more than an open kitchen and a few tables. Waiting tables there is an older ork woman who directs you to the only booth in the place. As you sit, the other patrons appear to finish up their food and head back into the store's interior.
Placing her arms on the seat, Critter then follows by a thigh. Soon she pushes herself up into the seat and she walks across it. The gnome's heavy, metal boots clonk with every step. Once she has moved to the inside she takes a seat. Her eyes peer across the tabletop at the older ork lady. She then gets an idea. Placing her helmet down on the seat she sits atop that and is just at the right level to rest her arms on the tabletop.
So much order, so much history. BAH! Aeon hates it already, where's the fireworks? She casts eyes around for them for a moment before heading back, giving those she recognizes a little nod. Mostly Dekkar and Critter as she clambers up into the booth in a similar manner as Critter does. She switches her attention to the astral, not seeing any apparent occupants of the booth.
Critical slides in next to Critter but takes care not to crowd her. He looks over her idea and grins slowly, "See thats using your noggin..protector". He takes out his pocket-sec and clicks a few buttons and sets it down slowly. He looks over the ork and gives a polite smile waiting for the rest to pile in.
Viktor slides into the market, looking for the Johnson. He reaches up to pull a bottle of sesame oil down for an elderly, shriveled Chinese elf. He mumbles thanks from underneath his worn cap and Viktor nods, catching a glimpse of the restaurant in the back. Viktor reaches down to touch his finger to an open pot of Chuan Niu Xi and brings the residue to his lips. He makes a note to buy some for his knees upon completion of the job. Taking a deep breath, he lets the odours of roast pork, duck, onions, garlic and oyster sauce fill his nostrils and revitalize him. His stomach rumbles annoyingly and he lets the delicious smells guide him towards the kitchen. A calloused hand reaches out and he slides out a rickety wooden chair and sits his bulk down in it, casually browsing the cheap, plastic menu and remembering what life was like before the MRE.
Simone enters the meta-friendly shop and politely browses while waiting to ask for Mama Wu. As she looks around at the spices and exotic foods, the realization sets in of this shop's orientation, judging by the range of metahumans present. Although not racist herself, she still shrinks under the piercing looks as she makes her way finally to the restaurant in the rear, deeply slouched, and with hands in her pockets.
Spotting a few familiar faces in the restaurant, Simone joins them with a faint, forced smile.
Dekkar starts to sit, and then visibly pauses while he observes the process through which Critter takes a seat. He smiles just a tiny bit in amusement at the combination of sounds and visuals. He lowers into his seat, and sweeps his eyes across the table. He seems to have been catching at least glances from everyone that cares how out of place he is by being human. He does not seem bothered by the setting however, adventurous by nature.
DB Dix doesn't tip the cabby for taking the extra time to get here. Those in the store would hear him actually muttering about sapien sapien supremacist being no better then the Asian's from Chiba area, and the cabby is actually compared to a lowly Nazi grunt, this can be heard as he passes into the restaurant thankfully now having to duck through the door.
Coming from the back of the restaurant is an ork that appears to be proverbially 'older than dirt'. In all actuality, dirt calls her Mama Wu. She is led out by a huge mountain of an ork; dark skinned and Asian if the folds of his eyes can be trusted. Your attention goes back to Mama Wu and you notice she is wearing a pink and yellow flowered Mumu dress over house slippers. She carries an old kendo stick that has had the point ground down, as a cane. Slowly the thunk thunk thunk of her walking stick brings her to your table and with the males help; she slides into the booth with you.
Her eyes are the almost completely white of a blind woman and to confirm this when she sits down she stares straight ahead, not looking at any of you really. She settles in, moving her behind back and forth on the booth seat to get comfortable, the small brrrrrpt of gas being passed signaling her finding the right spot.
Wu begins to speak, her voice sounding like winter leaves rustling on pavement. "Thank you for coming, I need last minute help and knew not where else to go." The old orc smiles and places her gnarled hands on the table. "Tonight a travesty must be stopped. Have any of you heard about the fight this evening?" She waits for you to respond before continuing
"I hate those 'comfort seats' they offer dwarves," comments Critter huffily. "I see kids sitting in them." She falls silent as she remembers where she is and what she's here for. She adjusts her jacket, rolling her shoulders a little as she looks from one runner to the next. Nodding her head to Momma Wu, Critter says, "Yep, a humanis guy is going to be fighting. I think he has to be cheating."
Viktor rubs his eyes with his palms, unsure whether what he's seeing is indeed real. After a few moments and the ork speaking, he simply shakes his head.
Thog snags a conviant chair that looks likely enough to support his weight. He settles in, with the back of the chair towards the group. He nods to those he knows, looks over those he doesn't, then shakes his head slightly at Momma Wu's question. Beyond that he doesn't offer a word.
Criticalfault says "What do you mean fighting, exactly?"
Simone watches the elderly ork take her seat, not reacting to the woman's flatulence to allow her the dignity of not having done so. She nods her head at the ork's question, the ends of her long, black strands of hair sliding along the edge of the table. "I have, yes. Seven Hills." She mentions her knowledge of the rumored fight and waits for more.
Dekkar simply nods, trusting he will be filled in. "Right." He watches the old woman carefully, apparently analyzing her or something to that effect, but he says nothing more for the moment, and occasionally shoots an eye to her escorts.
Aeon most likely smells almost as bad as anyone's gas, anyway. "I ain't heard o' nothin'." She shrugs, eyeing the old lady "And I hear most everythin' that happens on th' street…"
Balling up her little fist, Critter turns to Criticalfault and she says, "Some kind of fist fighting. I think its in a ring maybe, but I don't know." She shrugs her shoulders and she says, "The Humanis have this seven foot tall guy in there fighting. Supposed to be unwired, not magical and he's beating up trolls."
Criticalfault says "Then hes on drugs, only explaination"
Wu's face turns towards Critical as she speaks, "Street fight 'ummie…" The old orc's face breaks into a forced smile, the last word almost seeming to stick in her mouth like peanut butter. "The kind of thing that those who think of themselves as the 'master' race seem to revel in…"
Wu smiles quietly, one of her tusks hanging low out of her lip as the denture cream starts to fail. The large ork beside her tries to help her push it back in but she shoo's him away with one hand, leaving the tusk dangling there. "Well we can't allow Titus to win again. The injustice is too great. However the fight will be at a…" She raises her hands in an air quoting type gesture"unsanctioned poli club eventwhich means they are going to be all policlubbers but want metas to come so they can beat them up."
Dekkar can't resist himself, since he's pretty sure she's blind. "Yeah. Damn humans." He makes eye contact with each of the other runners and makes an amused smile to indicate his intention of playing this off, testing each runner's capacity for humor at a time like this, making the bet that her bodyguards will stay quiet. He shoots the same glance to them!
DB's lips are pulled down in a deep scowl, he offers nothing yet still listening. However one could tell this is probably the most upset that the normally easy going trog has been in a long while.
The haggard looking elf's lips curl up in a smile at the human's remark. Viktor speaks up, his voice rich with mid-western twang, "What do you require of us, ma'am?"
Aeon cracks her neck "Yeah, what's the job, chu- ma'am." the formality seems /very/ forced. She's clearly not used to it.
Simone's hands are folded tensely in her lap as she looks on, watching each member of the meeting through her hair over the course of the conversation. Dekkar's comment receives a firm grimace from her dark cherry lips, the only part of her face really visible below the draping black hair. In her thick German accent she quietly asks Wu of her intentions. Though Viktor beats her to the punch. "Ah- Mrs. Wu, I am also vondering vhat you vould have ze group of us do? I am not villing to put myself in ze center of a policlub riot if sings turn ugly."
Looking to Dekkar, Critter mulls over his statement then the idea clicks. She rubs the side of her head as she looks towards Momma Wu. She draws in a long slow breath through her nose and she releases it just as slow past her lips. Once she has relaxed a little she looks back across the table.
Wu readjusts her seat again, mumbling quietly…"Hemmoriods are killing me today" Shaking her head she sighs, "I need you to infiltrate that meeting and keep Titus from winning that fight. He has to fight mind you, or it will appear too suspiciousbut HE CAN NOT WIN!" She taps her hand on the table in the booth as she puts extra inflection on the last four words, her escort growling his agreement with the sentiment. Calming herself, Wu smiles again, that tusk -almost- falling again, what is holding it on there?? "I don't care how joo do it…but he must not win…" She sighs and seems almost lost, her escort places his hand on her shoulder and she pats the hand in a grandmotherly type gesture.
The black-haired German woman who is adorned in an all black and white ensemble with charms made of bone and feathers turns away at the old woman's … discomfort.
Wu turns towards DB and shakes her head, "I don know dat sugah…I jus dont…" Wu pats her chest as if looking for her license when stopped for speeding. "I had the cred" Finally she shoves one hand in her bra and pulls out several credsticks, placing them on the table in front of you. "The pay is 10K each, it took many Meta's many nights of extra jobs to get that money together." Wu sighs and turns her head towards the sticks and then pats her escort on the hand where he stands beside her.
Viktor's stomach grumbles and he makes eye contact with the human. He raises his eyebrows and thrusts his stubbly chin forward as if saying, "Go ahead." Reaching up behind his pointed ear, Viktor pulls a wad of chewed gum and pops it in his mouth and begins to chaw away. The dumplings in his ALICE pack settle as the ice holding them together melts in the kitchen's heat.
A smile starts to show on Critter's face as an idea comes to mind. She takes the uncomfortably warm credstick and slides it into her jacket pocket. She rubs her hands together as she slides off the side of her helmet, tucking it under her right arm again.
Simone remains quiet, respectful of the hard work Mama Wu's people have done to raise the money for this endeavor. Pride can backfire though, and if the policlub's fighter doesn't take a dive somehow, all their hard work will have been for naught. She runs a white-gloved hand through her hair, unobtrusively preening as she thinks the situation over.
Dekkar leans forward, almost forgetting his recent sarcastic idea. "Well.. I can understand this. I really do. The issue on the end of the nuyen is more about the risk factor my team and I will have to negotiate. Ten thousand each to deal with something on the magnitude of a major event like this.. I don't know. There will be a lot of eyes to deal with.. we're going to have to ask for something more. Is there anything further you can offer us? Perhaps beyond the nuyen, if there is no more?" Dekkar takes a slow breath and leans back after laying the situation on the table and initiating the negotiation process.
DB's frown deepens during Dekkar's spiel. His brow furrows eyeing Dekkar in about as an unfriendly manner as he'd ever given to anyone he's called friend, but then again he's been on the sharp end of racism, as a doctor given an EMTs job.
After listening intently, Crit's phone goes off and get grabs it to not interrupt and looks over his message. He grinds his teeth and shuffels his way out. "Sorry chums…i am getting pulled away by something else. I think Mama Wu is perfectly taken care of…" He gives a low bow to her guards and her, "I'm terribly sorry. Send me a message again if you need help.." He turns on his heel and rushes out of the place taking his bag with him.
Wu sighs and her hands start to shake, "I..I dont know if we can get…." She looks up at her escort who doesnt look pleased at the attempted raise in price, especially from a human. "Its…it took us so long to get that…."
Aeon rolls her eyes. They may be orderly, they may be boring, but trying to get more money out of them? That's just kind of low. She still stays silent, planning on making /sure/ she does a good job in exchange for any raise in price.
Dekkar nods, then blinks in amusement at himself. Body language to a blind lady! After they exchange back and forth a few times he recaps his point. "Well, you understand the gravity of our situation. Without anything further, we can't move forward on this. Think of something, somehow, that you can come up with, and I think we can arrive at a conclusion we can both still be happy with." Dekkar glances at the other runners, scanning for reactions again.
Wu shakes her head and then after a moment she looks up at her escort, "Get my purse…" The ork steps away and walks into the kitchen. After a moment he returns with a huge wicker handbag that matches the old orks mumu dress. He hands it to the old ork, his eyes boring holes into Dekkar as he does so. If looks could kill Dekkar would have never been born. Wu reaches into the purse and pulls out, bills. Thats right, paper money. Its in large wads that have rubber bands around them. Its all ones and seems to be almost every cent the old ork has been able to save in her aged career. "Its whut I have…dis…dis is…so important…."
Leaning back in his chair, Viktor whistles as he sees the bills come out of the ork's purse. "Lock and load, chummers," his stomach growls a final time, "we're in business."
Pulling the credstick from her pocket, then looking at it. Looking to the stack of money, Critter places her credstick on the table. She slides it over as far as she can and she says, "You can keep my pay." The gnome shrugs her shoulders and she says, "I'll do this because the Humanis suck."
Aeon mutters something in French, herself, but Critter can tell that it's something a bit negative.
DB Dix looks to Dekkar, then to the little gnome. He nods slightly, at her gesture. He starts to stand when the negotiations seem to be done. He take a long look at the money on the table, thinking, weighing and reasoning to himself…
Simone has refrained from taking her credstick, and the stack of cash receives only a vague glance, though it's hard not to notice the ork woman's distress as she places it on the table. The German still remains in thought through the negotiation, looking from Mama Wu to Dekkar, then to the bodyguard and back to Wu. She waits quietly until the rest of the group makes their agreements and begins to leave the restaurant.
Dekkar's eyes begin glancing around, and sweat begins to bead on his forehead. His teeth begin to grit slightly and his breathing increases rapidly, as he shoots a few glances to the ork escort. He seems to stop reacting to the situation, and the money, and everything else. He stays oddly silent and stares at a fixed point on the table, unresponsive for now.
Sliding under the table, Critter is able to navigate the sea of legs. She walks out of the edge of the table and waves Aeon over. She still shows the secretive grin. Her tiny hands rub together as she pulls her goggles down over her eyes with a snap.
Aeon slugs Dekkar on the thigh as she leaves the booth. "Slag. Ya'd think o' not fraggin' over a meta after workin' with us dis long. All you humies r' the same." She rejoins Critter though, arms crossed over her chest
Thog takes his stick, then looks to Dekkar, "Let's go, friend," the tone isn't hostile but definitely upset, looking towards the ork he grunts says, "this one isn't worth making feelings worse." Angered, yes. Loyal, yep. Can you guess which trumps which?
The ork escort stares daggers at Dekkar, looking from him to the money and then back to him. "Meybe joo want our blood too joo fragger?" He extends his arm and pulls up the sleeve, showing the bare arm to Dekkar, almost beating him to death with it without even striking him at all.
The situation intensifies, the room goes silent, the ork looms, Dekkar sweats…..
And Wu is in total control..she places her hand on the arm of her escort…"Sampson, please…its biz…and biz is biz….right 'ummie?" She says the last word with a smile as sweet as candy and a voice you could use to sweeten your coffee….
"I have an idea," says Critter excitedly and in hushed tones. She loops her arm around Aeon's and she says, "You'll like it. Raccoon is clever." She tugs the other gnome towards the door a little as she says, "This will be funny."
Aeon seems to recover from her annoyance at Dekkar "Yeah, whatcha got in mind, chica?" She picks out a few of the loudest fireworks she can find before leaving, though, listening to the plans of those teammates that are around her.
Simone remains at the table as the tension builds, not willing to leave until the men have settled their differences.
Dekkar is still unresponsive. He doesn't do anything at all. It no longer matters what he was planning, trying to do or ultimately getting at, as he was put in a position beyond his control suddenly. His eyes are locked straight ahead. His head tilts slowly up, and he locks it straight ahead, eyes measureably 15 degrees above the horizon.
Wu stands to signal the deal and meeting are done. "Alright my lovelies please do well and I send my luck with you if I can. I will hear of your failure or success through the usual channels I am sure. Farewell." At this the old orc thunk thunk thunk's her way back down the hallway where she appeared, her escort helping her along the way. She smiles on her way out, Dekkar just gave her something she would have paid 10 times that amount for, an example of why she is right. The money is left on the table, credsticks and cash, all there for the taking, to the victor they say….
DB Dix thumps Dekkar lightly in the shoulder, "Let's go," if necessary he'll bodily lift the human, taking Dekkar's share so he gets it, and carry the young man out the door.
Viktor leans forward in his chair and snatches his creds and seeing the other's outright refusal of pay, grabs handfuls of bills in a manner akin to a shark during a feeding frenzy. He sighs at the untouched credsticks, wondering to himself how people in today's day and age can subsist on volunteer work. "Hippies," he mutters under his breath as he slides the stick into his pocket. That's when the bodyguard almost loses it. Viktor glares at him, ready to pull the hold out from its holster by his ribs and begin ventilating crania. The tension in his muscles dissipates with the voice of the old crone and Viktor's hand moves from the hold out to the credstick, trying to believe that it's actually there. He stands up and shrugs off the last of the bad mojo before thumping the human on the shoulder good naturedly. "Owe you a brew, chum." Dekkar doesn't seem to respond and the elf leans forward to investigate. He gives his shoulder another, harder shove, "Wake the frag up, brother." He shrugs and moves to the door.
The credstick Critter left behind floats into the air as she wiggles her fingers at the table. The plastic stick zips and spins being in control by the tiny gnome. A faint shadow around her eyes like a cartoon bandit hints at the blessing of her totem. She catches the stick and she pockets it. She skips out the door, the boots clomping on it. She says to Aeon, "Tell you when we're away from here."
Simone solenly rises to leave the restaurant and market, looking after the departing runners and the orks leaving through a different door. She takes whatever cash and cred are left on the table, carefully slipping it into the purse. She now darts after Mama Wu in order to return the purse with what money remained. At the very least, Simone's initial credstick will be within the wicker bag. Assuming she is able to reach the woman and her escort, she will offer a kind greeting from her instructor Salen, return the purse, then exit the market herself.
Dekkar stands after an uncomfortable amount of time literally locked into place. As to why he positioned himself as he did? Unless others had been there they'd never know. He stands eventually. He surveys what is on the table, and takes the purse, any remaining cash, and his credstick, pocketing them. He takes a deep breath, shaking as he fills his lungs, and as he exhales. He walks away silently.
Once the team is away from the Asian Sector, Critter rolls to a stop. Everyone gathers and she lays out the basic of her Raccoon inspired idea. "Well the human can't win, but he has to fight," she says, "So we drug the metahuman. Have two metas in the crowd call foul, then have a human yelling to prove it. The meta and the human verify the meta was drugged. Then the game is forfitted." The other runners suggest that the team have a backup plan. Blackmail Titus, get him to throw the fight. That way they have two chances to win. Pretty good odds.
DB Dix, after talking with his friend Benson over cup of bad coffee comes away with a smile, and a gleam in his eye. According to his info, Titus
doesn't have an opponent tonight. If he can get in, with all the components he's pretty sure he could win. He places a call to his dear friend Lola with
his skull phone, <Heya love, look I need a favor. I need some DMSO in the raw, and a dose large enough for me, of Kamikaze…> a brief pause as he
listens, <Yes, I'm going to take care of you, just keep it on the dl, okay hon, thanks.> with that he hangs up. Placing a call to Dekkar…
Dekkar places a call to Crit. *ring*
Idily Criticalfault moves some programming icons out of his way to click on the connect commlink icon. He answers distractedly, "Criticalfault,
Decker for Hire, You got yourself in this mess, i'll get you out."
"Hey, Crit. This is Dekk. I need a favor.. anything you can get on this guy named Titus. Been beating the shit out of some trolls, and he's a
big human. Backed by Humanis, from what I can tell.. can you do some digging for me? I can definitely toss a few kay your way for something on location, dirty past.. something that could be MADE dirty.. ya
Shuffeling around some icons Critical loads up a search engine or five and begins clicking on a few things as Dekkar explains what they need,
"Please hold while the decker your trying to reach locates your search query.". He rapid fire begins accessing and refitting the search criteria to meet
his needs.
After a few moments of searching Crit pulls the phone call back to him, "Whats my time on this here brodie?"
Dekkar responds, having hung on the line, expecting the pause. "Hours? …about one, ideally? Two max?"
Crit sighs and nods slowly to what he imagine is blank air. "Well, that is going to be pushin it, but i can get it done. Less times means less
crunch you realize. I'll hit it extra hard. I'll call you back." He hangs up and redoubles his efforts.
After an hour of frantic searching Critical sends a message back to Dekkar, "Okay brodie, this is heavy drek and your gonna love eating every
single deliciously peice of it. So our Titus or Titus Small Tree is or rather was a small time fighter and a damn wiz one too. He did some ivy league
boxing. Golden gloves type drek and even won himself some heavy metals. Then he disappears for some time and comes back. all of the sudden hes the golden
boy. Best of the best. Heres the catch. He drops out of atlanta scene and into the Carib League. Heavy heavy hitters bro. We talking best of the
best…guess what they are the best at. MASKING Brodie! This dude studied under some guy named Dr. Andrew Gentry, supposed to be a LEADING expert in
magical masking. Your fighter is a fricken ringer and it will take the BEST of the BEST to break that drek. Still you got some ammo. Lastly, he had a
serious Bliss addiction he may have kicked while at the monestary becoming one with the invisble fist. Still. Old habbits die hard. Gimme the 411 on this
when you get done and special favor. Video tape me the results. I'm dying to see how this goes down."
Aeon is sitting in a parking lot a block or three away from the event, on her racing bike, looking surlier than usual. She's got this damn
overpriced drug, too.
Critter rolls up on her miniature motorcycle and she powers it down, thumbing off the kill switch. Stepping off the little racing bike she
carefully rolls it behind a dumpster and conceals it from view. She then walks over to Aeon and she says, "This is gonna be fun. Who knows what's gonna happen. The plan has gotten confusing, but the good thing is they made my job easy. All I have to do is cause trouble, AND be ready in case there's a riot."
Leaning against his Aurora, Viktor fumbles with a pair of chopsticks. Finally, he manages to get the steaming dumpling from the styrofoam container to
his mouth. He looks at his two partners in crime while his jaw works the amalgalm of pork, cabbage and dough. "So," munch munch, "what kinda," munch,
"ruckus we gonna raise?" He looks over at a pair of human hookers working the corner and raises an eyebrow as an idea takes hold.
DB Dix arrives in a stylish car, with a woman driving. He gets out of the passenger seat with a sigh of relief. Leaning in he says something,
hands off a cred stik and a wink at the woman. After she departs he heads the short distance to the team meet, with a plastic bag in hand.
Dekkar arrives at the location that the dwarves have come to, on his Rapier. The roar of his engine was audible in the distance, indicating he
had been gunning it on his way, but he brings it to a slow crawl, then stops it and cuts the engine out. He's geared up in hastily purchased neo nazi
attire, iron crosses and various offensive symbols abound on a long synthleather duster that covers his frame and provides the necessary opportunity to
conceal things. He looks the part as effectively as he's going to.
Aeon nods to her friend "Yeh, fun." she toys with the ambient mana, not conjuring anything yet, but thinking about what she will. "What the frag
ever you like." She says irritably. "I'm thinkin'…havin' a spirit confuse 'em. Also, makin' em think you farted, or maybe somethin' else. It'll be
good, jus' worry 'bout you."
Not at all phased by Aeon's attitude, Critter says, "Well I don't know about the last one. I was thinking maybe I'd pickpocket some humans.
That'll get them good and fired up. Maybe I can get a city spirit to hide me when they find out." She taps her chin thoughtfully and she says, "Maybe I
should do that first, then I can get the good stuff before the fight starts." She's kind of off on her own little tangent now, "Maybe we should see if
it's warded." She starts to walk in the direction the fight will be held in, "Yes, look at it really good and see if I see any wards. I like that idea."
Dekkar watches the two dwarves conversing. "Well.. I got this drek on. Do I look hateful enough? Maybe half as bad as earlier? That sit down was
un-fucking-believable…" Dekkar shakes his head and is immediately distracted by it. Very out of character for him, but then again so was everything
about that nogotiation past a certain point.
"Alright ladies and," he takes in the human's get up and nods approvingly, "gentlemen…here are my digits," he reads off his contact info to no one in
particular, unwilling to deal with the small, firebrand, "I'll be near the fight. Call me when you want a ruckus." He looks back to the women and
swallows, trying to keep the thoughts of the consequences of his actions at bay, "It might get messy." With that, he hops on his bike, and rides over to
converse with the working girls.
Aeon blinks at Dekkar, leaving him a barbed comment "I think it suits ya." Then back to her normal tone "So lets get goin'." She shrugs, the
impromptu leader it seems. "You go first, Thoggy, we gotta do some magic-peepin'." She explains, grabbing for Critters hand like the big sister she plays
at being and heading towards the venue on foot, keeping eyes out for anyone who looks pissed-off and human on the way.
Blinking as her hand is taken, Critter looks owlishly at Aeon and she asks, "Huh?" She doesn't pull her hand away as she asks, "Did I get lost
again?" She shakes her head and she says, "I try not to do that, but sometimes I just get so…lost."
Thog hands off the DMSO to Dekkar, then towards Aeon, "You got the dope?" looking around while he tears a bit of the plastic bag, and dumps a crytaline
powder in it. He twists the impromptu baggy just so, then shoves it up one nostril, "I'm ready. Friend," speaking to Dekkar once again, "it's a one to
one to one mix water, DMSO and Bliss."
As you arrive in the Seven Hills district of the Warrens, you immediately notice that there are very few people on the streets. Those that are
here are most likely persons that have no where else to go, or they are heading in on direction. That direction is towards a grouping of large planes
that have crashed here. Usually used by the destitute as tenements, these planes have been cleared tonight for what appears to be either a small riot or
a large street fight event.
There is no 'ring' to speak of, just a large clearing in the center of the mob of people. In that clearing is a circle that has been drawn in the
sand. It appears to be roughly twenty feet in diameter and there are several bloodstains scattered within it. Currently in the ring, a human is fighting a large dog of some type. As you watch the pair is circling each other warily, looking for an opening. The human is well built and moves with a grace that can not be described as anything but magical or augmented to the trained eye.
Suddenly the dog springs into action and the human seems to fall, catching a foot on something in the sand. The crowd as one gasps, anticipation gripping them as they expect the human to be the new brand of Purina in moments, however at the last possible second the human shifts his weight from
feet to shoulders and kicks out with both bare feet at the dog. The double kick catches the dog in the neck and chest and audible cracks, much like the
snap of branches in a wind storm, echo into the night. The dog is tossed through the air from the force of the violence to land just at the feet of a
large orc waiting its turn at the edge of the circle.
There is silence in the crowd, just for a moment, that calm before the storm to come. Then suddenly the crowd erupts, music starts and the human
stands to the adoration of the mass of humanity.
Thog strolls up bold as shiny brass, with titanium cojones. To the policlubber at the door he rumbles, "I 'eard dere's a fight here, tonight. I want in,"
going for as much of the dumb troll sound as he can muster. He's not wearing his usual outfit of EMT gear, but his Atlanta Butchers' urban brawl team
shirt. Prior to coming here, he gave Dekkar and the rest the DMSO to be mixed with the bliss and water. The instructions for the mixing and dispersal were simple enough. Equal amounts of each. Concealed in his large nose is a plastic baggy full of Kamikaze, the baggy twisted in such a way that a hard
snort will release the drug into his system. He knows he's playing with fire but nothing can be done about that.
Aeon tosses the vial of bliss over to Thog "Here ya go, chum. Use it well, that drek cost me a hundred fifty." Then to Critter "Sort of. Just
stick with me, chica." She eyes the spectacle with distaste from a good distance - Puma does not like crowds. Then she calls on a City spirit to keep on
retainer, not going into the party at all. It takes the shape of a mail drop-box.
Smiling brightly at Aeon's words, Critter says, "Always." She tilts her head watching Aeon as she summons, the smaller gnome says, "Good idea."
She holds her hands out and she says, "Oh spirits of the city, come to me please. A small Raccoon needs your protection and guidance." The flickering
shadow of a Raccoon mask clouds her tiny features, her hands growing black and a spectral ring tail appearing behind her.
Dekkar departs from the group. He heads into the crowd directly, walking at a faster pace than the others intentionally, to create distance
before he gets anywhere near the mob. He strolls up on the outskirts of the mob, and looks over the crowd. He starts wedging his way past people as
necessary to get to the front, consciously avoiding any groups of metas that may have formed in the mob.
Looking around you notice that there are no Meta's in the crowd, and only a few up near the ring. Those Meta that you can see are all in one concentrated area and appear to be waiting for a turn in the circle. Sitting at the beginning of the line of competitors are two humans, one holding what
appears to be a sort of speed gun and the other just sitting in a chair, watching the metas. As a new Meta joins the line, the man with the speed gun
starts typing on a large box attached to the gun, the other slumps and appears to fall asleep. The crowd goes quiet for a moment and then a screen on top
of the box reads "CLEAN" and the crowd cheers again, the Meta joining the line. Across the heads of the Meta you can see a small platform with a
billboard of sorts set up. Scrawled on the billboard appears to be the fight card, odds are listed as well as competitors. Painted at the top of the card
in red letters is the name TITUS and in the opponents slot appears a rather dubious question mark with twenty to one odds listed in favor of the main event.
It appears that there are three more matches before the main event is scheduled on the card. Standing on a small running rail at the bottom of
the board is a dusky skinned human male. He appears to be taking bets and shouting out the card, you can just barely hear his voice shouting the winner's
name and calling in the markers from the dog fight. "All markers are to be paid in full before you leave chummaz! We still need an opponent for the
champ! TITUS the strong! The perfect specimen of human evolution! Completely un-augmented and un-defeated!! See me for your shot at the title!!!" There
is a general groan and no obvious takers on the challenge appear to rush the dais.
The poli-clubber looks up at Thog and smirks then jerks a finger towards the barker.."Sign up with him troggaliscious…more meet for Titus." He
laughs and puts his arm around the shoulders of another poli-clubber and heads over towards a small stage.
Thog stumps over to the bookie, "Thog," he rumbles menacingly. He glowers at the bookie waiting for a response while relying on his shear size to
dissuade anyone who'd think meta punching would be a good idea.
Aeon stares at the weird bit of tech, the box…then she keys her subvocal mic to those that are tuned into the team's frequency
Commlink-Aeon> Aeon says, "Hoi, I remember that thingy. I got it from a child o' Raven named Murder…gave it t' this elf chummer in some drekky strip
joint. Wonder what the frag got it here?"
Commlink-Dekkar> Dekkar says, "Right. I remember. Putting two and two together… gonna say it works as advertised.. but.. I don't know the connection."
Commlink-Medic> Thog thinks to the transducer, "What the drek are you talking about?"
Dekkar has his eyes on the tech as well, commenting on it into his comm as he continues to shuffle his way inward in the crowd, trying to get to
the edge of the mob.
Commlink-Aeon> Aeon says, "See that doo-hickey on th' table? Looks like onna them thingies that Lone Star aims atcha and catches ya speedin'? I seen'd it
before. Dats all, just wonderin' how it got ta these chummers s'all. Somethin' weird goin' on."
A low roar starts among the crowd and your attention is drawn to a group of human males setting up instruments on a low stage. They set up and
start playing lively music, the crowd starting to dance and chant along with the music.
As the music starts a huge human male, bald and covered in tattoos takes the stage to the chanting of TITUS TITUS TITUS!!! He is naked from the
waist up and every tattoo covering his body has something to do with human rights, power etc. He is wearing only a kilt with the black watch tartan and
steel toed combat boots. As he sings he stomps on the stage and growls out the music.
"Politicians took your babies! The Judges took your rights! The Reds took your land! The Meta's are eating your children…TO-NIGHT!!!"
As you listen to the music and watch the mayhem, your eyes are again drawn to the two humans doing a scan. The alarm just went off and the screen
shows, 'FAIL FAIL' on the screen. The ork standing at the sensor starts to look around wild eyed just as the human stops typing on the box, stands and
pulls a pistol. One shot, brain matter showers the other Meta's in line to get into the ring, and the crowd pauses, the music stops. Then Titus waves to
the group of humans near the line and they pick up the body, to parade it to the stage as the human at the box sits and holsters his pistol. He points
matter of factly to the next Meta waiting to be scanned.
The barker looks at Thog and smiles, "Yes yes you are!" He turns and raises Thog's hand to the crowd…"THOG!" The crowd goes wild as a new
competetor is announced and the Meta in line get considerably more uncomfortable looking all of the sudden.
Thog lets his arm be partially lifted then he raises both quickly (read: Unaugmented) and bellows his best roar at the crowd. His bass voice would
definitely compete with the lively, if in his opinion poorly played, music. He looks to the barker, grunting "Ready," filling the single word with as
much venom as he can muster.
The city wraps around Aeon and Critter, drawing attention away from the gnomes. Critter wiggles her fingers excitedly as she whispers to Aeon,
"So many pockets." She grins brightly and she says, "Wow I heard a gunshot." She rolls up on her toes trying to see where the shooting is. It doesn't do
much good when you're that short anyhow, she just gets to see bellies over beltbuckles.
Dekkar takes the cue as time to start really maneuvering toward the inner edge of the crowd. He keeps his eyes moving for many reasons now, given the company, and snaps attention to the point where gunfire was heard. When the ork went down he kept maneuvering himself, to press on toward the
edge of the circle, where he could do his one important, intended task.
Aeon chuckles "Hoi, summa these guys are wearin' /skirts/. Kinda makes em seem less tough, don't it?" She crosses her arms and waits for the
opening ceremony to hurry up and get over with. "Don't go stealin' yet, Critter." She instructs "If ya get caught before we finish up here, I dunno if I
can bail ya out."
Looking a little sullen, Critter says, "Okay," in a sulking tone. She looks around at the kilts and she says, "Maybe we can get spirits to lift
up all their skirts. Then we can send in watchers to sing, 'You got no cahonies, you got no cahonies'." She ponders this situation a little more.
Thog GLAREs at the barker then shoves ahead towards the scanner. He's got cojones the size of Texas, and three times as mean as any rattler there. He
pauses to be scanned, glaring hate at the man with the gun.
Dekkar seems to respond to the music a bit over time to see if he can't blend in a bit better, while using it as an excuse to jump up and down
and wedge his way past people. He appears to be taking advantage of the crowd's energy as best he can to advance. He tries to predict a good place to
stand and wait for the right monent.
The crowd continues to sing and chant ocasionally, the song plays out and ends to thunderous applause. Titus leaves the stage and is swallowed up
from your sight by the crowd.
Thog is pulled by the barker towards the two humans, one in the seat and the other typing on the box. They smile widely and give each other a
knowing look. Then the process repeats, the one in the chair slumps and the one on the box points the device at Thog and waits.
The crowd goes silent, waiting in bated breath as the screen on the machine sits black..
The screen shows CLEAN and the crowd roars again as Thog is led into the ring.
Thog glares at the screen apparently trying to puzzle out what the words mean, while inwardly he's smiling. He muscles his way towards the ring, leaving
the barker, or with him in two, matters not to him.
Commlink-Medic> Thog thinks, <I'm in, now for the easy part.>
Commlink-Aeon> Aeon says, "Yeah, Easy. Don't let 'im knock ya out too quick, chumboy."
Poking Aeon lightly, Critter says, "Ooh, oooh, when the fight starts you got to call the guy on your thing." She taps her ear as she says, "That
thing." She looks a little thoughtful as she says, "I need to get one of those things."
"Are you ladies ready?" Viktor asks from the shadows. The two women are preening for their big performance, adjusting each other's whatnots. They both
turn to look at Viktor and one doubles over in laughter while the other merely looks shocked.
"Ya know, sugah, real pimps don't look like dat." The other recovers for a brief moment before succumbing to another round of laughter.
His face a bright vermillion, Viktor mutters, "Just ham it up, ladies. Easy nuyen." Viktor slides open his phone and looks at it anxiously.
Aeon nods, leaning up against something as if just lazy "He doesn't have an ear thing either, I gotta call 'im on my /phone/. I dunno what I did
without an ear thing either." She dials the number and it starts to ring, while she keeps an eye out.
Female laughter and chatter comes back over the line. "Ready?" comes Viktor's voice over the laughter.
Thog strips off his shirt and duster, revealing well defined if not overly bulky physique. He's several old scars all over, ranging from the waxy
appearance of burns, to a couple of telltale puckers indicating bullets, to one or to lines, jagged and smooth done by likely edged weapons. He sets both
down in 'his' corner and bounces lightly on his toes to help finish limbering up.
After a few moments, Titus reappears from the crowd, sliding out from between several poli-clubbers. He smiles to Thog and nods simply, starting
to stretch on his side of the ring. The crowd is a wave of madness, chanting and screaming at the top of their lungs. Titus rolls his shoulders and
postures a little to the delight of the crowd. Then the barker starts up again, the odds on Thog going from twenty to one to fifty to one in a flash.
Dekkar breaks to the inner edge of the crowd. He has the best position he's going to get for now, surverying the crowd and jumping into the air
a few times to look as enthusiastic as the people around him do. He attempts to make eye contact with Thog and shouts especially loudly, "Fuckin' Metas!"
He hopes to catch Thog's attention at the least by making his voice stand out if for just a second, so that Thog could identify Dekk's position in thecrowd.
Commlink-Medic> Thog thinks, <Someone place a bet on me, reckon you could make a small fortune.>
Aeon nods as if Vik can see it on a voice-only phone "Yeah. Give it another minute. Count t' ten with yer lady friends." She suggests
Commlink-Dekkar> Dekkar says, "Did you hear me yelling? I'm in position."
The laughter coming from Vik's end is getting louder. "Does he have a shot?" Vik growls.
Aeon nods again "Yeh. Well, says he's 'in pose-itchin''. Can't cap him 'til the fight starts, chum."
Thog tosses a hateful glance towards the slur, then back to his opponent his gaze is icy as he waits, pacing slowly in his corner. He covers both
nostrils for a moment and does a super snort and grimaces at Titus.
"Should we put a bet down," asks Critter as she looks towards Aeon. She furrows her brows and she says, "I've never gambled before. Can we put
money on both sides so we can win for sure?" She looks towards the crowd, starting to walk in that direction.
Aeon grabs for Critter's jacket "No, Critter. They don't like non-humies, scannit? They'll just kick ya and not letcha bet." a short pause "Anyway, that's not howya win a bet…" Then into her phone again "Hoi, Vik? Put us down for twenty kay if ya can. I'll cover it when this' over."
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Rounding the corner is … well… you're not immediately sure. The plumage is what catches your eye first. What must be a meter high ostrich feather
jutting from a massively wide brimmed, purple, fuzzy hat rounds the corner. Beneath the hat is a pair of huge, heart shaped, glittering sunglasses that
completely cover the upper half of the figure's face. The person catches sight of the massive crowd of testosterone-filled, raging policlubbers, eager to
proclaim the superiority of their race and smiles, the gesture causing any who behold his majesty to turn away lest they risk blindness by a small
constellation of toothborn diamonds. Flanking the man are a pair of human, females, their skankiness in direct proportion to the man's opulence.
Beneath his jaguar patterned cape, Viktor is shaking, but he tries not to let it show. His arms are around the two women and he practically lets them
carry him around the corner. Viktor and his escorts sashay to a halt and he beholds the sheer number of hate-filled humans in the crowd. He mutters to
himself, "Boy, you better make this shot." One of the women look over to him and Viktor points a heavily ringed finger to the street. The woman smiles
and gets down on all fours and Viktor lifts up one of his felt, platform shoes and places it on the woman's back and daintily tosses a handkerchief down
at the shoe. The other hooker drops to her knees and shines off an imaginary piece of dirt. Viktor reaches down and slaps the woman's perfectly rounded
and 96 exposed rump and feigns enjoyment at its jiggling. "Mmmm-mmm-mmm!" he declares.
"Cane, bitch!" He shouts in an annoyingly high pitched voice. One of the women produces a stlish, oaken cane with a large, faux ruby on one end. He
thumps the cane against the ground and licks the side of one of the women's faces from chin to temple and the woman gives a 500 =y= moan of ecstacy.
"Breeda-licious! Alright, bitches!" Viktor forces a dazzling smile, "Commence the bidness!"
Commlink-Aeon> Aeon says, "Oh. My. Spirits. Can we kill th' keeb and split his take?"
The crowd's attention is taken just for a moment as Viktor arrives in full array. At that moment Titus starts to close, throwing a roundhouse
right at Thog. Its a starter, a feel your way around kinds punch. Also Titus's attention is also taken slightly by the exotic bird of an elf that just
made its way into the crowd.
Thog, knowing the disctraction is coming, blocks the attack easily and steps to one side, Titus is fully exposed to Dekkar. The crowd is watching
the Elf about to get his ass kicked..no time like the present….
Aeon raises her hands dramatically, and things get…strange. It's not quite obvious what's affecting the minds of the poor racist crowd, just
that somehow it's now a lot harder to think. She watches for Dekkar to shoot the little pistol thing. "Critter…get ready to make your spirit give Titus
an accident…"
Dekkar reaches into his long duster and, rather than doing the obvious thing and get himself killed, he jumps up in the air and cheers, raising
his free fist, much like some of the others in the crowd. Upon landing, he rotates just enough to shoot the squirt gun backwards out from inside his
duster and across his own chest. Years of shooting from the hip when necessary have taught Dekkar how to line up shots from many awkward angles, and at a
distance of 5 feet, close was going to count anyways. The stream of DMSO and bliss hit everywhere intended without spilling a drop on himself, or Thog.
Dekkar secures the squirt gun in an inside pocket and jumps again in a cheer, before looking over to the distraction with the rest of the crowd,
appearing as confused as everyone else, like he has no idea what's going on.
Looking thoughtful Critter tells her spirit, "Please go into the middle of the fight below. The human fighting the troll. Give the human
accidents." She smiles brightly as she feels the breeze of the spirit moving through the astral to grant her request.
The crowd starts to..hesitate..meander..wander…
Titus even shakes his head as if to clear it as he is taken full in the face with the shot from Dekkar's squirt gun. He starts to slip on a patch
of blood that has started to congeal from an earlier fight. He puts his hands down to catch himself and loses the fight with gravity, going to his knees.
Some of the crowd is brought back to reality by the sight of their champion falling to his knees. They start to shout and the edges of the crowd
and the ring become more fluid than fact. The crowd has started to turn ugly and very quickly the Meta's that were in line become targets for those not
wondering what day it is.
Dekkar blends into the crowd as best he can, trying to match the confused looks on those present. He tries not to look too aware, as people
start wandering about and wondering what is going on. He slips past people and makes his way to the outer edge of the crowd. When he breaks free, he
starts an open walk away from the scene, back to his bike.
Commlink-Dekkar> Dekkar says, "I'm done here. Exiting now. Good luck."
The groan of the crowd signifies the fight is over. Critter says, "Hooo boy, we won!" She then pulls up the hood of her raccoon styled hoodie
and she bounces up into the air, her metal capped boots clank on the floor. She then scampers off towards the direction the bikes were left.
DB Dix, see the fight hasn't been stopped, likely because too many people are confused. Thog measures Titus with a metal bone laced hand and it
pistons forward hammering Titus in the temple with for force of a trip hammer. Titus' head wipes in the opposite direction with a spray of blood while
his eyes roll up into his head, out cold likely heavily injured too.
Aeon thanks the mailbox. Er, Spirit of Man. "Thanks, chum." And dismisses it, then tugging on Critter's wrist again "Let's get the frag outta
here before they remember what they was doin'."
Commlink-Aeon> Aeon says, "Lets get the frag outta here, chums. Meetcha at the place!"
Viktor watches the magical drek hit and sees the crowd start to turn ugly. He's not sure if the human hit the target, but he is fairly sure that his job
is done. With two great heaves, Viktor tears off the pimp accoutrements, keeping only the cane and forgetting to take off the glasses. "Alright ladies,
time to go!" he says out of the corner of his mouth. The two hookers take off on their stilettoes and Viktor wades into the melee towards the metahuman
champion.
The elf swats a policlubber that has latched onto his blouse. "Let's go, big guy!" he shouts into the fight circle, swinging the cane deftly at the
throngs of confused humans.
Thog looks around, if no-one is looking at him, he stomps with his size thirty boot on Titus' knee, seeking to inflict even more damage to the already
wounded man. Then collecting his duster and shirt he moshes out of the building, meta or human, if it gets in the way of an exit he hammers it. This is
unlike the normally gentle and good humored man known as DB Dix.
The crowd that still active and not pissing themselves and looking for brains, stands in shocked silence. Their champion, the pinacle of all that
is human, has been defeated by a troll. The force of Thog's stomp shatters the knee of Titus and he howls in pain, writing on the sand. Oh
look..shiney…where was I again? They start to mill around once more, confusion seeming to rule the day in this case as much as brute force.
The Poli-Club champion has been defeated, the crowd has had its teeth pulled at least momentarily, and our runners are making a quick exit stage
right.
BE SURE TO PARENT THIS PAGE TO INDEX:LOGS
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