FIVE 27

[18:35:22] <@Fats> It's winter in Vladivostok, and this year it's unusually harsh; both climatically, and in what comes to syndicate violence on the streets. The Golden Horn Bay is frozen over; the entire city is snowed in; and finding gutted bodies in the street is as common as encountering a pack of stray dogs or devil rats. Just getting to your favourite Ankor in the Throat runner joint takes you through a street gang firefight, barely dodging the stray shots.
[18:35:22] <@Fats> The atmosphere for the winter holidays was anything but festive, and rumour has it Evo's facing serious issues with its new nanoware product lines; so you're hardly surprised to see your hacker contacts drying up. When Mikchalych, the proprietor of the bar who also serves as your most reliable fixer, learns about it, he sends a commcall number your way: "Here folks, check this one out. I heard it's a small corp moving into Vladivostok, providing
[18:35:26] <@Fats> part-time services of just the kind you need to runners. Haven't contacted them myself, course, but I've heard good things" - he notes as he pours you your free beer.
[18:37:34] <Nebokhod> - Oh. Any unwanted affiliations?
[18:37:50] <Nebokhod> *undesireable
[18:37:56] <Che> - Are we now subcontracting corps? Oh well...
[18:38:54] <@Fats> - None that I know of. I mean, it's more of them slit-eyed foreigners, - the troll slides the beer glass towards Che, - But at least not with syndicate affiliations, apparently.
[18:39:22] <Nebokhod> - Thank god for small favours.
[18:39:39] <Che> - Drekking slit-eyed foreigners!
[18:40:01] * Che shakes his glass.
[18:40:19] <Nebokhod> - Pipe down, kalmyk.
[18:40:27] <Che> - They're here for our jobs and women, I tell you!
[18:40:33] <Won> - Would you still be saying that if I bought you all a round?
[18:40:52] <@Fats> - Yeah, nothing good comes out of them before they assimilate, - the guy gives you the saddest grin you've seen on him, and you can tell that his clientelle progressively moving six feet under has been getting on his nerves.
[18:41:03] <Che> - Depends.
[18:41:33] * Che tunes his sarcasm down a little.
[18:41:59] <Nebokhod> - So, you are one of them slit-eyed foreigners, aren't you?
[18:42:44] <@Fats> * hmm, I had an impression you're going to be contacting each other over the net; but okay, this works too - suppose Won just walks in from the cold, in clouds of freezing vapor.
[18:43:55] <Che> * well, we got a number and decided to give it a shot and meet in person.
[18:44:07] <Nebokhod> - And yeah, buying a round always help to smooth initial distrust.
[18:45:20] <Che> - Get me some tea, let's see your tastes.
[18:45:53] <Won> - Yes, I'm a representative of Gosutoka Corporation. One of those new corporations coming into town. - He hands out business cards. They're high quality. Thick paper, enraved *and* inked. A simple design, just his name and the company's name in Japanese, English, then Russian
[18:46:19] <Che> * no Korean, pff.
[18:46:57] <@Fats> The troll gives you a deepest sigh instead of a greeting, Won - but at least it's warm in this rundown watering joint, for all its untidy plastic tables and shady shadowrunner-looking patrons.
[18:46:58] <Won> * Stylized logo, "universal", local. He has ones where the third language is korean.
[18:48:17] <Nebokhod> - Maybe I should order myself some business cards too.
[18:49:26] <@Fats> - Uh-huh, "magical slaughter for your syndicate war, low cost per head", - Mikhalych suggests.
[18:49:32] <Nebokhod> - You know something tasteful. Like "tsifra" camo and golden stmaped letters.
[18:49:51] <Won> Won orders Che a glass of green tea, if Mikchalych has it.
[18:49:55] <Che> - Pink tsifra?
[18:50:34] <Nebokhod> - Pffft, philistine. Orange, of course.
[18:51:58] * Che checks his tea.
[18:52:20] <@Fats> Won, Ankor is a runner bar in a worker district. It does have green tea, but you're pretty sure the main component is the dust from Indian roads, even if those "Crimean herbs" in the label are present at all
[18:52:52] <Che> - Eh, not bad, I think we can make bussiness together. But Mihalych really should order more sorts...
[18:53:29] * Nebokhod eyes them suspiciously.
[18:53:43] <Won> - As you can see, I'm Ashita Jin, but everyone calls me Won. We offer services in driving, repairs, and finding what you need. - He passes his chip card over to open a tab - Lets get everyone a shot of whatever they want, and if we start some business lets celebrate with some *good* tea. -
[18:53:48] <Nebokhod> - Is this some asiat butt sniffing or something?
[18:54:22] <Won> * It is 100% xiabatsu-tier butt sniffing but he's not admitting that
[18:54:31] <@Fats> - I told you, man, - the troll pours a beer for himself, - I told you about Asians. But you wouldn't listen.
[18:55:36] <Nebokhod> - Pour one for me too.
[18:55:51] <Che> - Yeah-yeah, drekking asians.
[18:56:09] <@Fats> The troll downs his glass in a single gulp, but complies.
[18:56:20] <Won> - Yeah, fuck them. - He orders the weakest beer on the list.
[18:57:05] <@Fats> Won, you get a Baltika 0 - all the taste of the famous Volga mass brand with none of the kick.
[18:57:34] <Won> It still somehow gets him a buzz.
[18:58:02] <Nebokhod> - Should've gone with kvass, at least it has a taste.
[18:59:34] <Che> - So, do you have promotional booklets or something?
[18:59:58] <Che> - With all the corp-speak and your rates.
[19:00:12] <@Fats> While you're talking, Che, Nebokhod, an ARO floats up in your field of vision. Apparently, it's a message on your team's anonymous commmail: a certain "Mr.J" wants to meet your team a couple hours from now, in the Golden Pheasant - an upstart Chinese cafe/sauna/brothel near the Artyom docks.
[19:00:21] <Won> - Do you *want* promotional booklets? I work for runners, I get paid if the job pays.
[19:00:56] <Che> - Well, you have cards.
[19:01:36] <Nebokhod> - Huh, what a coincidence, we have a job.
[19:02:15] <Che> - We have some promise of a job.
[19:02:51] <Nebokhod> - Well, shroedinger's job so to speak.
[19:03:20] <Won> - We can take my car. - He points to the personal sized limousine outside.
[19:03:25] <Che> - But, if anything, we can use it to test run you.
[19:03:40] <Won> * https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/65/1967_Toyota_Century_01.jpg/1200px-1967_Toyota_Century_01.jpg
[19:04:19] <Che> - Nah, I prefer my wheels.
[19:05:00] <Won> - Well, who do I have the pleasure of working with?
[19:05:29] <Che> - Che.
[19:05:52] <Che> - And that one is Skywalker.
[19:05:56] <Nebokhod> - Nebokhod, sorry no cards yet, but you'll get it first.
[19:07:14] <Che> - What point is in your magic if you can't even conjure a simle card?
[19:07:19] <Won> - I'll hook you up with my printing company. They do good work.
[19:07:30] <Che> *p
[19:08:00] <Nebokhod> - Nice.
[19:08:34] * Nebokhod takes his place in Che's car.
[19:09:09] * Won takes his car to the destination.
[19:09:20] * Che leads the way.
[19:09:45] <Che> - So, what's your impressions of our new friend?
[19:10:45] <Nebokhod> - He is slit-eyed foreigner.
[19:11:14] <@Fats> The streets are all but empty in the evening, but the driving is still slow due to ice covering the roads and no one bothering to remove it for good. The sky is solid light gray, meeting the solid dark gray of the unquiet sea at the horizon.
[19:12:58] <@Fats> The Pheasant is fancy in a tasteless way, with cheap plastic tiling forming a sort of pagoda roof and faux gold covering much of the entrance gate and the sign with two metahuman-sized pheasants, pictured in traditional Chinese style, dancing
[19:15:00] <Che> * so, are we letting Won Face it through?
[19:15:11] <Nebokhod> - Such a classy place.
[19:15:25] <@Fats> You're greeted by a girl in qipao - contrary to your expectation, she looks quite Russian, which is one way to explain her standing outside to greet the guests in nothing but a light dress. A personafix chip sits at her temple, not unlike a well-fed spider.
[19:16:42] * Che shrugs.
[19:17:02] <Won> Won steps out of his car and gives the place a look up and down. He doesn't seem to find it pleasing to look at. He meets up with Che and Nebokhod.
[19:17:11] <Che> - Ok, Won, do you want to shine as our new face?
[19:17:43] <Che> - Or would you prefer to hack them out from shadows?
[19:18:56] <Won> - Kinda gaudy isn't it. Do you think he owns the place? - Che makes his request, and he puts on his business face. A strong smile, and a forced ignorance of the weather. - Oh, just let me talk to him.
[19:19:25] * Che makes an inviting gesture.
[19:19:32] <@Fats> She leads you inside, past the commonly accessible rooms and up a narrow flight of stairs, into a room maybe some fifteen square meters total. It's even more gaudy than the exterior, with golden dragons coiled in the corners and a mirror on the ceiling. Sitting behind a table is a man you'd place as a middle-level Chinese Party bureaucrat who had to escape when the nation fell: a corpulent man with a sleazy smile.
[19:20:11] <Che> * more slit-eyed foreigners!
[19:20:55] * Won puts on just as sleezy a smile and greets him, in russian, "Hello, Sir!" but then follows up in Chinese, "Would you prefer mandarin?"
[19:21:13] <@Fats> The hostess shows you to your places; the table is served Chinese-style, with dishes fit to serve a dozen men placed on a rotating contraption in the middle, each of your seats getting a plate to cut and eat the pieces you like.
[19:21:44] * Won is prepared to slap any wrists that try to go before the host does.
[19:22:02] * Che politely nods, and watches Won with a shadow of amusement.
[19:22:36] <@Fats> The man is attended by several more girls who look much like the hostess both in dress and their outstanding personal qualities; two drift beyond the shoulders of each of the runners to help them, in turn.
[19:24:22] <@Fats> - Mandarin is good, - the man replies with a hint of dyspnea, - Do have a seat and enjoy the meal, runners, it's not easy to find well-prepared century eggs in this country - or good black caviar in that country, for that matter, - he gives you a sensible chuckle.
[19:25:32] <Nebokhod> - Our black caviar is made from the very best oil, properly aged from a million years under the earth's crust!
[19:25:44] <Che> * damn, looks like I need to invest in some mandarins...
[19:26:19] <@Fats> The girls assigned to serve you reach out to the spinning contraption to serve each of you a century egg. The tableware is as gaudy as the rest of the set, with golden eating sticks and empire-styled dishes.
[19:27:23] <Won> He takes a look at the century egg, and immediately goes back to focusing on the conversation. - I'm amazed one can find century eggs in today's age, I thought they were a myth! We're both busy people, and I'm sure you don't want to waste time. How can we help you, sir?
[19:29:59] <@Fats> The man lets one of the girls serving him slice up a bit of a strongly-smelling egg before him and put it in his mouth. He chews thoroughly, piercing each of you in turn with his gaze, then swallows and replies: "Who does business on an empty stomach, mister..?" He pauses, expecting Won to give him his name.
[19:31:16] * Nebokhod looks sheepishly
[19:32:14] * Che patiently slices egg in his plate.
[19:32:24] <Won> He laughs and powers through the century egg, -Yes, I suppose you're right. I'm Mister Ashita. - He puts a hand towards the others - My associates, Che and Nebokhod.
[19:32:27] <Nebokhod> - To be perfectly honest, i prefer my food and my women to be younger than me, it's probably not very cultured of me.
[19:32:32] <@Fats> Lucas finds a slice of ammonia-smelling dish placed before his mouth, just as well. The girl is pressing on his shoulder with her outstanding assets; her personafix chip is clearly visible if he turns his gaze up.
[19:33:27] * Nebokhod thinks of Russia and eats the egg.
[19:34:04] <Che> * I was under impression they speak mandarin, which is not one of the strong sides of Nebokhod.
[19:34:22] <Won> * Typo fix: Mister Che and Mister Nebokhod*
[19:34:52] * Che nods again when his nick is spoken.
[19:35:27] <@Fats> - A pleasure to meet you, - the man gives nods to each of the runners ceremoniously, then chuckles a bit at Nebokhod's puzzlement, switching to barely accented Russian for his benefit, - Oh worry not, the "century egg" is just a name, they barely take a few months to ripen to perfection.
[19:35:54] <Nebokhod> - Now that's a relief.
[19:36:43] <@Fats> The man clearly intends to engage you in small talk for the next hour or two as he enjoys his meal and the company of the waitresses; do you let him?
[19:38:47] * Che lets Won to drive conversation, enjoing food and secretly recordind talk for a later analysis.
[19:39:31] * Won studies him, seeing if thats a test or a requirement. Always hard to read these social situations for their true purpose.
[19:41:21] <@Fats> * Won. Charisma+Etiquette, if you please
[19:42:06] <Won> 9d6
[19:42:07] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: [9d6] 25
[19:42:17] <Won> * Oh, uh.
[19:42:37] <Nebokhod> 9#sd
[19:42:38] <ur_dnd_bot> Nebokhod: (pool 9) 2 hits
[19:43:25] <Nebokhod> * or 9#d6
[19:43:26] <ur_dnd_bot> Nebokhod: [1d6] 2, 3, 5, 2, 6, 5, 2, 6, 2
[19:43:47] <Won> * Ah, thanks. SHould we go with the 2 hits?
[19:43:53] <Won> * Or should I roll myself?
[19:44:06] <@Fats> * I'd prefer if you rolled yourself :3
[19:44:13] <Won> 9#sd
[19:44:13] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: (pool 9) 6 hits
[19:45:23] <@Fats> The food is, admittedly, pretty impressive, if prepared more for the Chinese palate than the Russian one. The man seems to enjoy the non-consequential conversation; the whole ordeal is both to test the runner's patience, as well as to let him try and judge their character by their matters and attitude.
[19:47:38] <@Fats> Two hours pass; another waitress comes with a tray, on it are a large bottle of Maotai baijiu and four tiny glasses. In a moment, they sit before you full of the clear, ethanol-smelling spirit. The Johnson exhales and downs his in a single gulp, then stares, apparently expecting you to follow suit.
[19:47:47] <Won> Won smiles at the man - This is a beautiful meal you've made for us. It must be a big job. What brings you to Russia? - He sneaks a message to his companions = This is going to be a long one, get comfortable, at least its warm and hopefully free. =
[19:48:36] * Won takes his shot and immediately becomes flushed red.
[19:48:36] * Nebokhod downs the liqour.
[19:49:01] * Che downs his glass with all the skill of a true russian.
[19:49:11] <Won> * Do you do special rules for being drunk? Cause uh. Won most likely is now.
[19:49:29] <Won> * At least stage 1
[19:49:59] <@Fats> Won, in the two hours the man doesn't shy to reveal his biography (yeah, he's a former Chinese Party man, and it was quite an adventure that landed him in Vladivostok - but he avoids anything that happened in the last decade) and doesn't hold back his hard-won wisdom (like "never trust the Imperial Japanese corps, those are right proper bastards!")
[19:50:33] <Won> * Yeah, another check to see if those are more tests.
[19:50:41] <@Fats> * Won, let's go with an easy -2 to all Tests requiring coordination or intellect
[19:51:30] <@Fats> No need to roll, it's pretty obvious it's all a part of the test.
[19:52:03] <Won> * What type of answer does it seem like he's hoping for. Agreement or disagreement? Or is he just testing to see if we can sit through hours of rambling?
[19:52:44] <@Fats> * Won, now the kind of answer he wants to hear is going to require a Charisma+Negotiations test.
[19:53:01] <Won> 7#sd
[19:53:08] <Won> 7#sd
[19:53:09] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: (pool 7) 3 hits
[19:53:52] <@Fats> Won, he expects agreement (preferable) or *polite* disagreement (acceptable)
[19:55:29] <Won> - Yes, The Japanese corporations are certainly quite displeasurable. - He cuts to Russian - No one likes Japan around here, do they?
[19:56:34] <Nebokhod> - Racist fucks.
[19:57:55] * Che makes an undefined gesture.
[19:58:10] <@Fats> The man gives a hearty laugh, - Does the name "Yomi Island" ring a bell? Half the Japanese in this city narrowly avoided that; no need to explain the foreigners' perspective against that background, - he waves his golden sticks.
[19:58:31] <@Fats> * Anyone with history knowledge? Or local knowledge? Or what have you?
[19:59:09] <Che> * Area Knowledge: Vladivostok?
[19:59:17] <Won> * I have no area knowledges.
[19:59:44] <Won> * I have news (business) and news (asia-pacific)
[19:59:50] <@Fats> * Che, sure, that works, give it a try.
[20:00:10] <Che> 9#sd
[20:00:10] <ur_dnd_bot> Che: (pool 9) 5 hits
[20:00:49] <@Fats> * Won, you were a high-placed corp official in Imperial Japan, correct? I guess you were insulated enough not to know about it; just be aware that the top management of all the Japanacorps was exclusively human.
[20:01:17] <Won> * Yeah, he was pretty insulated for a while.
[20:01:29] <Won> * If he saw anything it was how it impacted profit that year.
[20:03:36] <@Fats> Che, Yomi Island was a penal colony on an island in the Pacific where Imperial Japanese State sent its metahumans to die, millions at a time. Disease and starvation was rampart; the japanacorps ran sweatshops or medical experiments there. In the 60ies, the Huk Filipino resistance freed the inmates, but the island remains quarantined by the Japanese despite the policy of sending metahumans there being formally repealed by the young emperor
[20:04:42] <Won> * Oh, hey. That was one of our biggest profit centers before that decree. Man, fuck the emperor. That killed profits for like 3 years running.
[20:05:17] <Che> = There is japanese deathcamp for metahumans on Yomi, presumably closed in 60s.
[20:05:23] <@Fats> * Yes, precisely the japanacorp perspective on the matter. That was a dozen years ago, though, you're in the mid-70ies.
[20:05:47] <Won> * Hmmm. He was probably middle management at that time.
[20:08:45] <Won> = Thanks
[20:09:54] * Won nods, to him that was just a bad fiscal year, but to many others it was something far worse. He's gotten the gist of this guy's goal, and looks to him to expand on his thought.
[20:09:56] <@Fats> * so yeah, a bunch of Japanese metahuman refugees in Vladivostok from that policy. Most Japanese in the city, actually - you can even count in those EVO suits, minding that they had to move after their CEO's son goblinized.
[20:11:04] <@Fats> The Johnson does not appear inclined to expand the thought - he's content to see a runner take a step back after he poked him where it counts, as he suspects.
[20:13:00] <@Fats> So, as I said, two hours pass in chit-chat like that. You down your baijiu glasses, the girls rush to refill them; but the Johnson seems more eager to talk business now.
[20:13:00] <@Fats> He switches to Russian: "Now, you must wonder why I gathered you here. You see, the business I need handled is both simple and at the same time delicate, so I need you to be very discrete. An associate of mine recommended you as the team in this city that is able to do that" - he gives you a questioning glance, then proceeds, - "You see, this is a bodyguard job, but the target is never, and I underscore - NEVER to know of any outside involvement.
[20:13:00] <@Fats> Everything must happen organically. He thinks himself a runner searching for a team; you are to be that team. He goes on a run, you follow. He is to survive that run; you get paid for this. If he decides never to run again after this, you get paid double. Does this sound agreeable?"
[20:13:35] <Nebokhod> - Unusual.
[20:14:59] <Che> - Just survive or remaint mostly intact?
[20:15:04] <Che> *-t
[20:15:36] <Won> Won grins
[20:15:46] <Won> - This is very agreeable, if we may choose the company.
[20:15:55] <@Fats> - Your last run wasn't usual, either, but I hear you succeeded admirably. We got that company we wanted, null sweat, - the guy gives Nebokhod a grin, then turns to Che, - Survive with as little damage as possible, naturally enough.
[20:16:16] * Che sighs.
[20:16:54] <Won> * especially if we*
[20:17:00] <Che> * I wonder if his contact was a guy to which we sold those dongs...
[20:17:37] <Won> * That caught me off guard and I almost dropped a knife
[20:17:42] <@Fats> * his contact was the elf hologram - he references your _last_ run, after all.
[20:18:00] <Nebokhod> *ah, that one.
[20:18:13] <Che> * he references our last run that he knows about.
[20:18:42] <@Fats> * if you're interested, you can try and roll something social to get the details on their motivations for that from him
[20:20:12] <@Fats> - Anything that doesn't compromise your cover as hired guns, Mr. Ashita. If you can surround him with your trusted associates, all the better.
[20:23:12] <@Fats> * Hello? Runners?
[20:23:32] * Che nods.
[20:24:00] <Won> - * Got pulled away -_- I'm back now sorry
[20:24:24] <Won> - We'll take the job.
[20:24:48] <@Fats> - Fantastic, - the man grins again, toothily, - Let us talk money, then.
[20:24:56] <Won> - ...Now, details. Who's our target, whats the pay, how are we getting paid?
[20:25:03] <@Fats> * Charisma+Negotiation, please, Won.
[20:25:24] <Won> 7#sd
[20:25:24] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: (pool 7) 1 hit
[20:25:25] <@Fats> * if you have any boosters or whatnot, these apply
[20:25:51] <Won> * Thats assuming I'm still drunk. Haven't taken any cram yet.
[20:25:55] <Che> * 7? not 9?
[20:26:00] <@Fats> * drunks man
[20:26:13] <Che> * coord and intellect not charisma.
[20:26:18] <Won> * Oh
[20:26:21] <Won> 2#sd
[20:26:22] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: (pool 2) 1 hit
[20:26:25] <Won> * 2 hits
[20:27:33] <Che> * you can probably edge reroll it.
[20:27:46] <@Fats> The man drives a hard bargain, and you're barely unable to make him budge from his initial offer of 10k nuyen on anonymous account for each of you three if the guy is alive and well, twice that if he decides to drop running. Finally, you shake hands, agreeing on eleven grand, each.
[20:27:59] <Che> * think of all the money!
[20:29:40] <@Fats> * you can reroll the 7 dice that weren't hits, spending a point of Edge, yeah
[20:29:45] <Won> * I'll do that
[20:29:49] <Won> 7#sd
[20:29:49] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: (pool 7) 0 hits
[20:30:00] <Won> * ...How are we handling regains of edge
[20:30:02] <@Fats> * The dice gods have spoken, apparently.
[20:30:07] <Che> * our face is broken, can you replace it?
[20:30:24] <@Fats> * Your Egde pool renews at the beginning of each session, Won
[20:30:43] <Won> * ...This seems important enough that I'm willing to spend a second edge to reroll *those* failures
[20:30:56] <@Fats> * only one Edge reroll for any roll.
[20:31:01] <Won> * Thought so.
[20:32:21] <@Fats> The ex-party man sends you an ARO with your target. It's a young Chinese man wearing ridiculous street sam makeup, with a ridiculous streetsam haircut imitating XVI century samurai styles.
[20:33:18] <@Fats> Nebokhod, you can perhaps see some familiar likeness between the target and the Johnson. Won and Che, please roll Intuition+Perception(Visual) to tell if you do.
[20:33:46] <Won> 4#sd
[20:33:47] <ur_dnd_bot> Won: (pool 4) 0 hits
[20:33:53] <Che> = And there were I hoping for some nerdy boy, to stay behind and not sharging into battle...
[20:34:03] <Che> *charge
[20:34:07] <Won> = This reminds me of that movie
[20:34:24] <Nebokhod> - Oh, they are quite rebellious at that age.
[20:34:28] <@Fats> * Che?
[20:34:58] <Won> * Derp. "This reminds me of that movie" was ooc.
[20:35:18] <Che> 9#sd
[20:35:18] <ur_dnd_bot> Che: (pool 9) 4 hits
[20:37:25] <@Fats> The next ARO deals with the target's personal details, and it's surprisingly light on these. It includes his street name ("Reaper"), weight (well past two hundred kilos, surprisingly for a thin young human you see in the photo), height (190 cm), last known associates ("Allison", with the only additional personal detail of "SURGEd"), and apparent destination - Wonderland bar at Khasan coast, a runner watering hole next to which Yakor v Glotke
[20:37:31] <@Fats> seems like an up-class establishment.
[20:38:51] <@Fats> Che, the two men are obviously unrelated; you can also tell the guy picked his style and street name from a secondary character in Karl Kombatmage, a far-too-noble street sam named Reaper McReapface.
[20:38:53] <Nebokhod> - Street sam, chromed, *thin smile* heavily.
[20:39:27] * Won looks through the reports and then shares his plan with the others.
[20:40:26] <Che> - I wonder if he have experience to back all that chrome.
[20:40:37] <@Fats> - You know, getting to spend their pocket money freely sometimes gets in their head, - the Johnson returns Nebokhod's remark
[20:40:51] * Che sighs again.
[20:40:54] <@Fats> * Oho, Won has a plan already?
[20:41:08] <Che> *Owo
[20:41:19] <Nebokhod> *pwan
[20:41:37] <Won> - Heres what I'm thinking. I'll have my research and development department fabricate some data, and then my receptionist can work out the details on attracting him. You two can coordinate with my head of security to make sure the kid gets scared off and no one gets hurt.
[20:41:47] <@Fats> The man turns to Che: "Take a guess, would I be hiring you to babysit an experienced runner? He's green as a beanstalk".
[20:42:03] <Won> Won sadly has not made the connection that the johnson and the kid are related, and that theres a huge opportunity to get even more cash out of this.
[20:42:31] <Che> * unrelated
[20:42:45] <Won> * Oh, derp
[20:42:57] <@Fats> * Won, on the contrary: Nebokhod appears convinced that the two are related; you're not sure; and Che is sure they are not
[20:43:12] <Won> * Then I'm gonna append to that.
[20:43:13] <Che> - Well, no early christmas for us, I guess.
[20:43:46] <@Fats> - Not in the middle of January, no, - the man gives a mirthless laugh.
[20:43:51] <Che> = Finish it up, time to move.
[20:44:18] <Won> - Now, I'm not sure if these two are related, but lets assume they are. We can make up for that hard balling. After the "run" I'll have my receptionist go after the Johnson for that stolen data through official means.
[20:45:17] <@Fats> * Won, - marks you speaking aloud; = is subvoc inside the team - and even that can be picked up by anyone present with a perception test
[20:45:36] <Won> * Derp. I thought we were like. Outside of the Johnson Meeting already.
[20:45:40] <Che> = Are all those slit-eyed foreigners to you look the same? I expected that from Khnod< but not you...
[20:45:53] <Won> * Yeah, this was all sub-voc then.
[20:46:08] <Che> *to you ->>
[20:46:52] <@Fats> - Reaper is expected in the city by tomorrow, I am sure he'll zipline to that hive of scum and villainy. So be ready. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be - I'll leave you to your job, unless any of you want to spend some personal time with the girls, - the man gives you a sleazy grin as he stands up and heads for the door.
[20:47:00] <Che> = Well, let me tell you, they are not closely related, just some random Chinese.
[20:47:26] <Won> = His father is probably loaded. We can go after him.
[20:47:46] <Won> - Thank you for this job, sir. I'm sure it will be a pleasure working for you.
[20:49:00] <Nebokhod> = I had my feel of mark's fathers, thank you very much.
[20:49:05] <@Fats> The man nods as the door closes behind him. The hostess arrives in the room, ready to escort you out - or to the rooms, should you take the Johnson's offer of the girls seriously.
[20:49:06] <Nebokhod> *fill
[20:49:56] <Nebokhod> - Thanks, girls, but no.
[20:50:10] * Nebokhod leaves the brothel.
[20:50:21] <Che> - Not now, at least...
[20:50:44] * Che bids his farewell and leaves too.
[20:50:49] <@Fats> * and I guess we're cutting here, seeing as how I have to leave for the job.
[20:50:53] <Won> - I have other duties I must attend to
[20:51:03] <@Fats> === SESSION 27 END ===