[Main] Radical Action to Unseat the HOld of Monkey Mind

[RSGAlex]

At least as far as meeting places go, a wild party is about the last place anyone would expect for a Johnson to be. On the other hand, knowing that it's Jerry Cornelius, infamous runner, party hound, libertine, and a few dozen other references, that's doing the hiring explains pretty much everything anyone can see. No, it explains everything but the very, very uptight and disapproving ork in a power suit that is frowning disapprovingly as she exits from the room that the 'Johnson' has told everyone to meet up.

The liquor, the drugs, the very lightly concealed sex; it's one summoning circle and some alchemical preparations away from just about everything Jerry's known for on both sides of his life, in a neon and retro-rock sheen. The 'bouncer' knows to let you all in and direct you to the back to get the run information.

Of course, Jerry being Jerry, the group knows the goal already; track down a thief and get his power focus (a black gem) and his brother's copy of the Al Azif. The elf can't keep his lips shut about his own business, and that'd be a bad trait in a less established runner. He's just good enough and professional enough to keep it from mattering when the bills are about to come on home.

Equally of course, the first drink is on Jerry's tab.

 

[Dolie]

Her figure swaying under pulsing lights, Pixie is somehow perfectly camouflaged in the crowd of dancers while at the same time hogging the room's attention. If you think her callsign is unimaginative you'd be right - When she was told she needed one she simply went with what the orks call her anyway. She's not bright enough to know it's a racial slur. She used to be bright but... That's another story. Right now the lithe elf is dancing in her black leather jacket and panties and nothing else on. She's only a little less dressed than some of the other party goers.

Pixie slows down as her dancing comes to a halt. She walks towards where she left her combat boots and slips one foot inside of them after the other. She didn't want to accidentally step on someone else's feet in when she danced earlier. Her sauntering suggests she's used to walk in heels rather than boots. It also hints at her mild drunken state. As she makes her way to the back room where the Johnson is waiting a man puts his hand around her hip and pulls her against him. She raises her brows in surprise but puts on a charming smile. She listens to his drunken rumbling and ignores his hand as it sneaks downwards to fondle her rear. After she whispers pleasantries in the man's ear he lets go of her. Almost as if she told him something of great interest.

Pixie renews her walk towards the back room but stops just shy of entering it. It's her first gig in the shadows and suddenly she's quite unsure of herself. She wouldn't be here if not for the insistence of her handler. She waits a few moments for one of the other runners who are on the job to step in first and initiate the introductions.

 

[Tenshi]

Jen thought she'd heard rumors about this runner before and a little digging in private servers confirmed the reputations. On top of that, a simple glance at the location of the meet told Jen that she'd be playing this one a little differently.

Forty five minutes before the meeting, a tall, busty, and hard bodied girl with russet colored fur on her legs, hooves, and curling horns nested among auburn curls walked into the club. She talked briefly to the bouncer and thanked him. She had nothing to check—her guns and gauntlets were locked in her bike in the parking lot and her armor was, in fact, the nice leather jacket she wore over her snug lace halter top and miniskirt.

The redhead's hooves tapped on the dance floor, quickly picking up a beat as she crossed to the bar and ordered a cherry coke with a half shot of rum. The barkeep didn't card her on account of her host. Jen wondered if he would anyway. UCAS technically still had a legal drinking age, and it wasn't seventeen, but enforcing it was falling severely out of fashion. She watched the dancing for a while, enjoying her drink. Jen tried to stay cool and look bad ass, but the skimpy costumes all around here were things she'd rarely seen in real life—but a good deal in a rather hard core matrix game she'd been playing a lot in the past two years. Physically a virgin, running into a situation that so thoroughly evoked her Augmented Reality erotic fantasy life was leaving her....

Flushed.

After a bit, Jen finished her drink and moved out onto the dance floor. Being taller than mot of the men didn't do a lot to attract dance partners—but more than a few girls came to undulate with her.

By the time the com link in her jacket pocket sent a notification that it was time straight through the nanites painted onto her temples she had a nice sweat worked up—and honestly wasn't sure if it was more from the light workout or the teasing brushes of silky flesh on flesh.

Jen straightened her little skirt and started around to the meeting room. Noticing a really hot elf girl holding back, shy about something thar clearly wasn't her outfit--or rather lack thereof--Jen arched a brow, wondering if the elf girl was here for the same reason she was.

She was in the right place.

The satyr girl remembered being in a similar situation just a few months ago. She flashed the other girl a warm smile and touched her on the shoulder. “I'm Red, what's your name?”

 

[Dolie]

The blonde nearly hopped in place, startled by the hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at the satyr perhaps too quickly, accidentally causing her jacket to fly open and momentarily flash her left bare breast to Red Dot and a couple of men behind her. Regaining her composure the blonde nodded to the satyr with a friendly smile. "Oh they call me Pixie... I don't suppose you're also here about the uh.. Freelancing gig? You don't seem the type but then again, who does?" Her eyes flicker between the satyr and the door leading to the back room. She lowers her voice "What's the protocol about uh... Introductions in this kind of... Business? And... Are we waiting on anyone else?"

 

[RSGAlex]

The close nature of the Cornelius family (surviving, at least) means that the rest of the family is bound to poke their noses in. The cynical would say that because Frank is already involved, Catherine would be on queue to and egg the strongest looking metahuman around to slug her as hard as possible, just to revel in her super-elf toughness ( the best that foci and a beta clinic can provide) and probably start a fight that way. The realists would say that Frank being involved is shenanigans enough, because for all his plotting he can be just as impatient as his brother. A half-dozen 'death' reports attest to that.

It's impatience and a chronic low opinion of his brother's ability to make real plans that leads to Frank to approach the two already inside, greet them, offer the same hospitality they already had but on his tab, and immediately look for a lower grade of runner that he's sure his brother has hired. Implicit in his greeting and generosity is that he's expecting the satyr and elf to at least consider being the backup. Explicit is the little ARO message he shoots off saying as much when he's about two groups in and frustrated at the amount of actual talent on display.

 

[Dolie]

The blonde elf flips her hair back as she falls into step, following Frank and staying a little behind him and to the side. She seems giddy to act all professional like for the first time, kind of like a B-Trid actress that was just asked to pretend she's a spy. Pixie speaks in a low voice but not so low that the loud music would drown it. "Are we doing a walk and talk, then? Are you the boss? I thought the boss is someone that looks like you but not quite. So what's the gig? Or uh are we heading somewhere with less ears to break down the details? After you find the person you're looking for? Should we be on the lookout for... Someone? I am great with faces. What should we call you by the way? If not Johnson then... Mr. Jackson? Mr. Johnmoon? The other elf also known as Mr. Johnson?"

The lithe elf maneuvers through the crowd with grace, avoiding bumping into drugged partygoers that aren't fully aware of their surroundings.

 

[Tenshi]

The redhead's brow furrowed when the other girl introduced herself. Damn. The boys at the cage bar would laugh their asses off if they heard that!

“Protocols?” She smiled. “Honestly it usually gets sticky,” she explained softly. “Someone's always paranoid about something, so we spend half the night making sure we're not being spied on trying to double cross each other.” The blond gave a little shrug. “It hasn't happened to me yet. Given how chatty this guy is though, I think we can just go right in...”

That was when the other guy showed up. Red Dot's brow furrowed again at this, but she fell into step. And here I was just saying how paranoid we all get...”

 

[Daredevil]

Parking his Ford Econovan in the parking lot, Tin Man got out in a nice pinstriped with matching light tie and tails. Going to the bouncer at the door, Tin Man asked him, “Excuse me, I'm here too see Mr Johnson. I was told I'd get more details when I arrived.”


The bouncer pointed out the two girls and told him to go join up with them. “All right, thanks.”

Falling in behind the two girls, he inquired, “So, you two got called up to this shindig too, huh? Oh, by the way, call me Tin Man. Like a famous character from a familiar story, I'm told I do have a big heart. It just seemed to fit me.”

 

[Tenshi]

Red Dot

The fire haired satyr girl turned to look at the man who'd greeted them and was surprised to find herself looking... At his chest?

Expecting to see an orc or troll--for very few human or even elf men were much taller than she, the satyr looked up. He was human! And...

A strangely compelling blend of handsome, strong, and adorably nerdy. Grinning, golden-brown eyes looked up into his. She blushed a little hotter. This place was working a bold and lusty magic on her. Reaching up to press a strong but soft and hot hand over his chest, she replied, "Tick tock, tall man. Call me Red Dot. This is Pixie. Let's go, were on our way to the meet now."

 

[Dolie]

Perhaps used to her many questions being ignored, Pixie stops in place and smiles when the newcomer introduces himself. She leans on Frank's shoulder as introductions are exchanged, her mouth half open while she waits for a lull in the conversation to introduce herself. She closes her mouth when her introduction is done for her and everyone turns towards the back room in a hurry, following along with a giddy attitude as if she's used to people shutting her up. She sticks to the others, eager to meet their employer and experience an "official shadow-thing meeting".

 

[RSGAlex]

After the group passes into the back, everyone could swear that they somehow heard Frank say "Fucking figures. I'll go look for anyone that he gave the wrong drecking time to." Certainly, the body langauge as the elf walks away suggests this probably close enough to what the Sperethiel means, but without enhanced hearing who is to ever know. The meeting room itself is ever so slightly more quiet. Certainly, you can hear people other than yourself, but only just so. At least until seated. Then the quiet is much more pronounced. Like being on the other side of the street from the party instead of in it.

Mr. Johnson, Jerry, never really looked fully rested or completely freshly clothed as part of his basic style. Right now, though, he looks like somebody mostly succeeded at making the expat British elf into jerky and then stuffed him into a crumpled up suit he'd discarded to the wash the night before. His cursing the 'soft machine' can barely be heard even with the magical quiet as the elf stands. "So, let's get thissssssssssss...." The held s trails off into silence as bloodshot eyes count heads in the group.

"Musta given a wrong time. I'll just repeat myself if I need to. You are all gathered here because I think you have the best chance of getting back this," a pic of a simple four faced black gem pops up, "from this theif." A digitization of actual film appears, and a slightly blurred but distinctive human face is shown to the group. Whatever speech he had is cut short as fatigue causes the Johnson to slump back into his chair.

"I have locations and other info. Did you have questions?" His voice sounds like those words were incredible effort for him to say. Real mountain moving stuff as it were.

 

[Dolie]

Pixie tilts her head in silence as Mr. Johnson displays an image of the four faced black gems. Her eyes sparkle with wanton lust when she eventually whispers quietly "Shiny." For a moment she tries to remember if she's ever seen a gem like it's sort. Is it a magical focus of a type she knows about? She never had one herself but she always wanted to.

She raises her meek voice when the silence sits in the room. "Uh yes, excuse me... Where was it... Stolen from? Do you know the thief from somewhere, or was the uh.. Item stored in a place with really old surveillance equipment? Any indication that the... Thief fellow might be a mage?" She cranes her neck to see if Mr. Johnson placed any folders with the aforementioned location details or a stick with the info stored on it. Then she gives up when it crosses her mind she was never very good at understanding written briefings anyway.

 

[RSGAlex]

The folders are (almost purely) digital, being files on datachips being shared by cheap, almost disposable readers. A few pictures of a dirty, but still upkept building from not-quite downtown pop up. "The thief took it is unknown to me," comes the reply from within the chair. "It seems to have been just bad luck for me that all these things happened together. I can probaabbly have a report about that day made available, but you'd need to contact the owner."

 

[Dolie]

Pixie tries to avoid asking the obvious by flicking through the digital folders in search of the 'locations' Mr. Johnson mentioned. When the silence in the room lingers in the air she asks "When you say location, you mean you know where the gem is now? Or do you mean the original location of it's storage... So we'd search there for clues about the thief or such?" She tapped a finger on her chin and continued after a brief pause. "You say all these things happened together? What else went wrong lately besides the theft in question? For you."

Pixie blinked slowly while concentrating, shifting her sight from the mundane to gaze at the astral ream around her. She glanced at Mr. Johnson's aura, attempting to get a sense of his state of mind and see if he's been cursed in any way while she's at it.

Dice rolls

Magical Theory (Street) to recall familiarities in the black gem: 3 successes.
Assensing: 4 successes.

 

[RSGAlex]

"I have some suspected places that the thief may be. And obviously of the storage itself. And well, you can see the side effect of the Soft Machine written in my flesh. Oh, and I got shot. In the ass." Jerry, at this point it's defintely him complaining as himself and not as Mr. Johnson, and he seems to realize it as he clams up for a moment. Then he brings up the proper pictures with locations as a bit of a dodge.

One is a run-down looking dumbell style apartment building that's on the edge of an A zone (but an A zone offered by Hard Corps). The other is a more spread out apartment complex with a gate and it's located a bit centrally. Nothing outstanding that he has marked.


The gem looks fairly unremarkable itself, but the style's done by several cultures and traditions depending on what/where it may be affixed.
The soft machine has taken a toll on Mr. Johnson's health and he's curently quite weakened, but his essence is intact. Strong mage, and two big echoes of his enlightenment are visible in hs aura. One is the strange way he does magic, almost all ritual and slow stuff but for his adept abilities. The other looks like a naescent spirit pact, but that could also just be unfamiliarit with the spirit in question.

 

[Dolie]

A childish giggle escapes Pixie's lips when Mr. Johnson describes his rear injury. She quickly covers her mouth and feints a cough to suppress the giggle. With her hands still on her mouth she nods as she listens to Jerry's answers, her eyes flickering a moment when she stops perceiving the astral plane. She shifts her eyes sideways to look at Tin Man and Red Dot when she's out of questions, staying silent as she listens to the conversation.

 

[Daredevil]

Tin Man—to keep from laughing an injury he finds hilarious but won't mention to Mr. Johnson—hangs his head and covers his face.

 

[Tenshi]

Red Dot

Red Dot bit her lower lip a little at mention of the injury as well. After a moment, she looked at Pixie, and gave a little nod of approval. Then she cast curious eyes on Tin Man.

Okay... doesn't speak well for this group, girl, but it looks like I'm the brains. Not that I'm ready to dismiss Tin Man's intelligence. Haven't seen it yet. Pixie... Well, definite props for trying. What did the nutty professor in that old movie say about dumb questions?

After a moment more of focused breathing, Red Dot began, “Okay, let's put this all together. Mr. Johnson gave me—at least—this information with the hiring request:

“Our goal is to track down a thief. We are to retrieve your power focus—a black gem.” Here Red Dot focused her will into her com link with a gesture to make the image of the black gem reappear, this time above her own hand. As was the nature of augmented reality images, the otherwise perfect image was slightly transparent and glowed faintly. This was a built in safety and clarity feature to help people distinguish between true reality and digital.

“The thief also stole your brother's copy of the Al Azif. This is also to be retrieved.”

Assessing:

Assessing Red Dot might reveal that she was an adept of not insignificant power. (magic 6.)

Assensing Tin Man might reveal that he has several cybernetic augmentations.

 

[Daredevil]

“Al Azif?” Tin Man chimed in. “That sounds Arabic. What is it please.”

 

[Tenshi]

Red Dot had a vague idea of what Al Azif was, but only vague, and she wanted to hear it from Mr. Johnson's lips as well.

Once that answer, was given, she finished her compilation, "You have provided us with pictures of a location. This was where it was stolen from, right? iS this the address?" She dug around in the files for something that might be the address.

"And then you provided two more locations. With images and addresses. You believe the thief might be found here. Why these places please? Oh..."

She paused, noting exactly how drained Jerry looked, "Oh... You're not still bleeding, are you? I have my first aid kit in my bike?"

 

[RSGAlex]

Jerry nods, slowly getting back into the persona of Mr. Johnson. "Yes, that's right. And what is a bit of a sticky problem. There's only two people that are definitely known to know what the Al Azif actually has inside. One was Prez-i-dent Dunkelzahn. The other was the suicided researcher that got left the original in Dunk's will. My brother took a little bit of a risk, but we want it back anyway."

Other than the storefront picture he brings up (because just gets the sign highlighted in AR), both of the apartment locations get labeled 'Potential Thief Locations.' "Wait, I sent it too soon. Well," he inhales and goes ahead with the explanation that was supposed to be on the tags. "The cheaper one we think is a place used to make sales. The better looking one is where we think the thief happens to live. Of course, we could be wrong, it could be backwards, or the spying could have just given false positives. And no. The shot is long healed. Anything else?"

 

[Daredevil]

Tin Man studdied the adresses and nodded. HE sent a signal from the computer in his brain out to his car. Then he explained, "I'm dispatching a Fly Spy drone to each of these locations to scout them out."

"I'll share the information directly with you as soon as they get it."

 

[Daredevil]

After about an hour, Tin Man blinked and gave a report, “My fly spies have looked over the two addresses. The fancy place is his work cover. The kind of ratty place is where he sleeps.”

 

[RSGAlex]

During the down time, waiting for the drones to come back in, Mr. Johnson drinks and offers a staggering amount of spirits, water, and other, more alchemical things. As a good host, he also offers some around. When the info does come in, he makes a not wholly unexpected declaration. "Not going to pay more for you to go out of your way and kill the mook, but if you do take some other stuff he's taken I know some people that would be interested in buying them back."




By the time the next arrivals happen on the party, cheap booze, stuff that smells twice as cheap as it actually is, has started to flow in ways that would give water envy. This has lead to all kinds of changes in the crowd, some to be solved by cheap muscle on expensive drugs, some just to be observed lest you get pulled into it. Most of the people that get thrown out should have called a cab, or at least gone into the nearest Stuffer Shack to get a solution for their intoxicated or underdressed states. Most at least have the sense to leave in a vaguely not horribly unsafe direction. A few try the bouncers patience and get slugged off to dreamland for their troubles.

 

[Ryu Wojin]

Rei would enter the club. A sniff of the air would immieadtely sour her mood. 'Why a place like this?' A few steps into the club. The air of confidence about her isn't diminished even though the setting displeases her.

Rei would appear to be a non-human. Or perhaps a humam with splicing done. Giant fox ears point out of the top of her perfectly white hair. Her eyes glow a cyan blue with a little red eyeshadow. Perhaps a form of asian makeup. The woman certainly was packing in her sizes. She was fit and thin, and just enough plush to make her extremely desirable. Speaking of plush, any could see the giant fluffy white fox tail coming from her rear. She was dressed street smart though. Shorts underneath a skirt (disappointing those who are lucky enough to get a peek), with a button-up shirt and a mini leather jacket on top. The shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal some cleavage. This woman looked like a magical goddess.

Her heart would take note of the... More sullen patrons of the club. The ones who are still drinking sub-quality alcohol and posioning themselves as a result of this cruel world or a trapping they have put themselves into. She very much considers to pass them some advice. A shrine that may praying to may help turn their lives around. But in their current state, they probably wouldn't remember or care.

Her ears perk to the conversation in the back room. 'Thats where I need to go'. She'll walk to the bouncers guarding the backroom. "Hello boys. I'm looking for someone. I believe he's looking for me?"