IC - Mad World

[Black]

A break at last.

The Foundation had gone off the radar, closing the charity down and migrating to Black's Redmond Barrens hide-out.
The question was - did they want to break cover?

Responding to 2XS's contact Black invited him/her to meet 'in-person' at a small diner near the Renraku Archology.
Black told him that he would offer the unknown person refuge in the barrens, or a contact in Oakland that would do the same.
"...go to the gang and ask for Silk," Black had said in their very brief comcall. "Tell him... tell him Carnun sent you."

As far as Black was concerned - you had to look after your own.

But that meeting would have to wait until the evidence had been gathered from the resaurant.

[arcanus]

Uncle Al sat with a degree of satisfaction and relief, Maurice Bigio had suspended 'Lasciare di anima', the Seattle Families having redirected their collective anger back to the Yakuza and Triads, however the internecine warfare had lasted three days to long and territory in both Tacoma and Auburn had been lost.

The suspension had to be permanent, 'Maurice's attention had been directed to the assassin having been based in 'The International District', or 'Little Nippon' as it was refered to on the street.
However his resturant had been hit, it didn't matter that his own people had done most of the tearing up, he'd want blood and if it wasn't yellow he'd settle for runner blood instead!

[arcanus]

In the fractious gloom of twilight Redmond the three assembled for their ritual, the Moon was full, the conditions right.
The only thing against them was exhaustion, they'd just come from breaking into a Bigio Resturant to stop the families fighting.

Malthalamus and Drake, each constructed their part of the ritual, a stylish hermatic circle combined with something similar to a periodic table, one detailing only metals though.
The two magicians concentrated drawing upon the spirit force of their order, the Order Avatar of 'The Soldiers of Light.
The armoured Knight began to materialise, but it was faint.
Their ritual was a combination of metamagic forces, tales of their deeds, deeds of protecting people and demonstration of their martial prowess.

The night was long, the ritual intense and not without delays or mishaps, Black linked himself to Drakes VCR, the two syncronising, strengthening their link.
Finally the three felt the threads of power, establish, thicken and interlink, forming the Orders link.
The Soldiers now counted three amongst their number, bound by magic and deed.

Both Curren and Drake smiled, the connection after several years had strengthened, the Avatar being more solid, but as always this was just the start, the Avatar was entering a time of development which would require more karmic power.

[arcanus]

Through perpetually darkened halls they ran, invaders from the sunlit world lay siege to their home.
The Crypt had been attacked many times, however the wolves at their door hated the residents that the old Puyallup Factory protected, hated them for what they were and the person they protected.

The metahuman residents not affected by the hateful sun, manned the walls laying down heavy firepower at the oriental attackers, who responded in considerable kind. Deep within the labyrinthine halls of the inner crypt, their quarry shivered within his room, a killer by trade, he was now the hunted by the most viscious of his kind.
In the network rooms of the crypt, its Sysop physically cut the hardlines to the matrix, nothing short of this would stop the frenzied attack from a flock of black birds.

[arcanus]

The streets had settled to an uncomfortable calm, an uneasy one, the mob war had taken a heavy toll on everyone, the Star, Feds, the Syndicates themselves.
Each had lost and gained ground, only the Yakuza had come out ahead and that could only be temporary, now that 'Maurice Bigio' had been confirmed as Capo of Seattle he'd be looking to reclaim the mobs lost territory.

Marley scratched his head and pushed the datapad across his desk, he'd been pouring over the E-reports for weeks, like the other Tactical Analysts looking for the next explosion of syndicate violence or indeed a chink in the armour, a high profile arrest would do the Star a power of good.

Still the Metroplex Prison had, had its cells well and truly filled, Marley found the whole atmosphere unsettling, as the city was waiting for another storm.

[Rey'th]

Questions, questions, questions.

Jericho looked around the room at the mish-mash of people here with him. Most were the usual runner types, having a background in the military of other similar organisation. A fairly professional lot who knew what to do to get the job done. A few of them were obviously gangers who for some reason were going their own way from their brethren. These were the ones with bravado and the ones with a lot to say without actually saying anything of importance.
And then there were the ones that didn't look like they fit here at all. Those, Jericho knew from experience, were the ones to watch. They looked out of place but they wouldn't have been brought in here without reason, and that was normally what they could do rather than who they were.
One of them was studying him as intently as he was the rest of the group.

The private investigator would have returned the scrutiny except the he noticed the Johnson was talking again. He was explaining once more the the situation where a team was dispatched to the roof of the Archology only to be wiped out by the automated defences.
There was a question right there – how the hell does anyone know they were automated and not a deliberate attack by persons unknown within the building? Jericho didn't need to ask the question aloud, he already knew the answer; Johnson's employer did not want to admit to this bunch of underworld mercenaries that someone else could have possible taken control of their iconic building. That led to another unvoiced question... What happens when this bunch of misfits goes in and finds out what is really going on in there, and what if one or more of them make it out to let Johnson's team know, then how to stop the world knowing an hour later? Ok, so now Jericho guessed this was a one way ticket.
He waited until the Johnson had finished talking and piped up once more.
“All right, Mr Johnson, I appreciated that I've arrived a little late here, so forgive me if I'm going over old ground. By their silence I'm guessing these guys have already asked all the questions the need answers to, so I'll just run off a few more of my own. There's a few of them so I'll just rattle them off and your guys out back go over the recording and come up with suitable answers which you'll give to me and then I'll let you know if I think your bullshitting us and then you'll stop wasting all of our time and give me the truth, or at least as much as you can.”
Jericho paused letting the sting of his tone settle on the man at the front of the briefing room. He could see by the way the man's eyes narrowed that he wasn't appreciating the human's insolence, but Jericho didn't really care about his sensibilities. After all it was this man that had dragged him half way across Seattle in the middle of the night and was more or less instructing him to go on a Shadowrun.
Still he had to congratulate the man for not openly bridling against the comment.
“Go on,” the man directed.
“What information has come from your employer's people inside the Arcology either before of after this power down? What has happened to all the people who were injured in the opening day incident? What was the objective of the team who died on the roof? In fact any survivors from that little disaster? If you want this lot to go in just what do you expect from them, I mean exactly? What equipment are you going to provide to assist them. When or if the truth is discovered what the hell do you want done with it? Is this going to be one big team or do you want them to go with their normal groups, teams, whatever? How much do you want to control the movements and actions of those you send inside? To save anyone having to change their plans halfway through the op, just what exactly is it you want us to retrieve from the bowels of Renraku's new wonder? How long do you expect this to take? When you say you lost communications with the Arcology are you saying matrix comms with the the central core, or complete telecommunications black out? There's apparently ninety-thousand people in there, odds are one of them has a mobile phone, don't you think?”
Jericho paused as he went over the list of questions. “Tell me about the defences, what physical defences is someone attempting to illicitly gain access to the building likely to face? Same goes for magical defences? Which brings me on to... has anyone astrally scanned the place? If so, what have they discovered, if not, why not?”
The Johnson smiled as the bald man in the slightly old fashioned suit seemed to come to an end.
“Very good, Mr Jericho. Is that all?”
“No.”
“Very well, proceed.”

“This room is full of people who operate, for the most part, outside of the law. Corporations don't resort to brining in runners like these folks here, unless the shit has hit the fan and they are looking for deniability on their actions or their activities themselves are illegal. So, you are either not working for Renraku, in which case this is a fuckin' witless plan for twenty odd shadowrunners to take over the Arcology, or something has happened that you don't want the world to know about. Lets assume that it's the latter, to save anyone here walking out right now, then you or Renraku must have looked at launching an assault or two with corporate personnel. I think everyone here should look at the intel gathered there and the options you have already turned down. It may be that a plan that wouldn't work for your guys, might be something these esteemed fellows are quite happy to try. It could save time and resources if your hirelings don't bother attempting something that'll just get them killed.”

“And while we're on the subject of shadowrunners, I'm sure most of these guys don't mind the label, but what the hell am I doing here?”

Jericho's tone told the Johnson that he was finally finished. “Let me speak to some people,” he said rising from the edge of the desk on which he was leaning. “I'll be back in a moment. Ladies, gentlemen, help yourself to coffee.”

[Pie]

"Ladies and gentlemen." That brought a smile to Pie's face. Of the group gathered here he was the only one who could pass for a female, and often had to get out of a tricky situation.

This was a strange situation indeed. By his reckoning this room consisted of a large number of glory-hunters, and one or two true runners. It was these True Runners that deserved the most attention... in particular the bald man in the bad suit. He had been the only one to say what was on everyone elses mind, and the only mind in the room to say absolutely nothing. This was obviously a well trained man, and worth a closer look.

As the bald man walked up to the coffee table Pie studied his walk. Studied his eyes, his hands, the ever-so slight bend in his back, the tensing of facial muscles when he realised he was being watched. Very well trained.

Pie walked over to the coffee table, avoiding any eye contact with the glory-hunters who were all to eager to explain how they would "bust this wide open", or "take down every fucker in there." Sometimes this gift could also be a curse.

He moved next to the bald man and poured a coffee. Not too close to appear strange, but close enough to smell the rich aroma of columbian finest coffee beans on his breath. Realto brand. Popular in expensive coffee house.
Pie filled his plastic cup with coffee then sniffed it, wrinking his nose.
"For all this effort you'd think they would bring out the real coffee..." he said turning to the bald man.
"Jericho isn't it?" asked Pie, remembering to drop the 'Mr'. He didn't appear to like the 'Mr'.

[Rey'th]

Jericho glanced sideways at the figure to his right as he sipped the steaming hot liquid.
His face screwed up in distaste and the human made a point of glaring at the contents of the cup in the hope that his expression wasn't taken as a personal insult to this person.
The voice was melodic and seemed to have both male and female tones to it, almost as if it couldn't make up its mind as to what gender it belonged to.
Jericho turned towards the person and quickly gave him, her a once over. The figure's features were neither male nor female and it made him a little uneasy that he couldn't label him or her into one category or the other. Even a surreptitious glance at the persons chest didn't give any clues, the lack of a large pair of breasts merely confirmed that there were no obvious female traits that would allow the labelling to take place.

This character was one of the lone figures that had been sat at the table when he had arrived, one of the ones who Jericho had already decided was here for more than their ability to pull a trigger.
“Yes, on both counts,” he said with a friendly smile. “Although it doesn't surprise me that they don't want to waste their finest stock on a room full of 'persona non-gratis'.”
“And you are?” the human asked offering his free hand. He hoped the name might give him a clue.

[Pie]

"Pie." replied Pie with a firm handshake. Not weak and feminine, but a handshake designed to reveal a bit more about the mysterious Pie. It's firm grasp and minimal vertical movement showed strength and control that didn't quite fit the slender frame.

Pie stood at 6 feet tall. Hair was shoulder length and very dark, which coupled with the olive skin gave for a very mediterranean appearance. Although some of his features appear elf-like, the ears were rounded like a humans. High, pronounced cheekbones also appeared like those of elves, or women, but nothing was definative. There was no makeup around the sparkling, dark eyes, and no stubble visible on the chin or lip.
Pie was wearing a dark hooded zip up top, over a t-shirt, with just the hint of some kind of form fitted armour underneath.
Even the way Pie stood could neither be classed as male or female. Not flirty or ignorant, he just... stood.

"Just Pie." continued Pie, not wanting to answer Jericho's real question of "Mr or Mrs".
"If you don't mind me asking, you seem to be one of the more 'professional' guests, and not one of these glory-hounds. What was your first thought when our Mr Johnson explained what he wanted us to do?"

[Rey'th]

"My first thoughts?" Jericho gave a wry smile.
Pie? Shit, that wasn't exactly telling was it? Well, he'd just have to treat Pie as one of the guys, regardless of gender.
"They've brought everyone in quite quickly, and not been too selective on who the chose. My guess is we're about to get royally screwed!"

"That's about right!" grunted a dwarf who was on his way back to the table after a visit to the gents.
Jericho noticed the small crawler drone perched on his shoulder and the vehicle control rig clipped to his belt.
The dwarf carried on his way and slid into a seat next to an orc with tattoos on nearly every inch of his exposed skin. The private detective also noticed arcane symbols mixed amongst the skin art.
Rigger, mage, thought the fifty one year old human. Got your useful numbers. He wondered what Pie was all about?

"Something has gone badly wrong in the Arcology. If its a hostile take over from outsiders, or even terrorists then they have got to be something special. That building can hold ninety thousand. Can you imagine the number of corporate security guards there would be in a place like that? Hundreds, if not going into the thousands. Someone somewhere would have noticed an opposing force big enough to engage that many troops. So then when have the possibility of an inside job, either some criminal mastermind has infiltrated Renraku and led a revolt, but I doubt it. It really leaves only a couple of real alternatives. Computers or magic. That place was rumoured to be almost fully integrated into the matrix. Hell, even the toilet seats were connected, or so I heard. If someone or something has taken that over, they could easily cause a complete shut down of the building and all comms. Thing is with that, there's going to be a hell of a lot of deckers in there so it wouldn't be easy." Jericho shrugged. Then a thought came to him and he voiced it. "Might be that the system itself has shut the building down, and is defending itself. I've seen that before."

Frowning once again at his coffee he said, "Might have been nice to have a biscuit with this."