With Donny out of information, Nathaniel just shoves him to the floor and keeps his gun on the man until the Muldoons send their own people to take him away.
After a couple seconds' wait, Rebecca Muldoon answers Wraith's call, and then responds. "Yes, keep him there, would you? We'll have some people there shortly." Obviously, Wraith can't see the woman's face, but she can hear the satisfaction and grim eagerness in her voice. If that tone says anything, Donny's time in the basement might be considered a vacation compared to what comes next.
The team waits in the abandoned building for a little less than an hour, Donny squirming nervously, before they hear a car pull up outside. Several doors open and shut, prompting the rat-faced man to flinch each time. Finally, the door to the building opens, and there stands Rebecca Muldoon, with a pair of other men flanking her. One they recognize as the bartender, and the other is a middle-aged human with blond hair, whom they don't recognize. Muldoon herself is positively beaming, but it isn't a pleasant smile on her face. And when she says, "Donny Basso," the glee in her voice suggests nothing good for the man.
"N-n-now Rebecca--" Donny's stammering start is met with a throat-clearing and a glare from the bartender. "Ms. Muldoon," Donny corrects, "now, let's not be too hasty. I mean, it wasn't my idea to--"
"Colin." Rebecca doesn't so much as gesture, but the name seems to get her point across. The blond man easily draws a pistol from under his jacket and, in one smooth motion, fires a shot into Donny's left kneecap. Donny screeches in pain and collapses to the floor, grabbing at the wound. Colin replaces his gun, and he and the bartender step forward to haul Donny to his feet and take him outside. As they do so, Rebecca turns to the team and smiles; this time it's pleasant and positive.
"Thank you very much for your good work. I think we'll handle it from here; Colin has a way with people. It seems like it only takes a few minutes of knowing him and people are practically jumping to tell him anything he wants to know." Her smile turns vicious again for a moment, and then she laughs and nods her head outside. "I have payment for you in the car. More bonds, although not as much as my father gave you--four thousand each. I think Donny would be privileged to know his life is worth so much."
The woman steps outside with the runners, where the bartender hands her a briefcase. Donny can't be seen or heard, but Colin's place leaning on the trunk suggests a possible location. After Rebecca hands the team their payment, she snaps her fingers. "Oh, and my father said you should come by the pub again, tomorrow. Say, three again? He'd like to thank you again, and he has a business connection you might be interested in, if you take my meaning."
Nathaniel winces when Colin blows out Donny's kneecap, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches at the two men drag Donny away, and puts on a grin for Rebecca. "I'll be fine letting him handle it, then." He follows Rebecca outside and eyes the trunk, but just takes the payment when she hands it to him. "Tomorrow? I'll be there." Nathaniel rubs his sore jaw for a second, then frowns. "I think I may need to do some shopping tonight, though..."
just dotting to get this onto my page!
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"Always a pleasure, Ms. Muldoon. Just a word of wisdom: enjoy playing eith Basso, but don't expect him to spill anything. Cat's dumb as you can get, and most probably a puppet in someone else's payroll." Says the ex-PI... no, says the grizzled new Runner as he lights a lho-stick "Take care, whoever wanted you sleeping with the fish may try to geek you again."
Nick turns to the others with a smile "Now most of you boros sure want to get some gizmos, and probably highly lethal and equally illegal stuff." he adds looking at Anya "But I bet none of you would say no to getting hammered first, am I right? I say we earned it."
Glad to see you still have your priorities right, Nicky Boy
Victoria raises an eyebrow as Johnny suddenly finds himself missing a kneecap, but doesn't respond other than that. "A pleasure to work with you Miss Muldoon." She fights the urge to smile. Working for the mob wasn't the most glamorous of jobs, but it paid well and she needed the cred. "I'll have to put off hitting the clinic until we see what other jobs we might have coming our way..." she mutters, eyeing the bonds.
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Wraith audibly guffaws as Colin puts a slug into Donny's leg. "Ha! Kneecap. Classic! Nuthin' personal, Don-don, just biz," she finishes as they lead him away.
"Been a pleasure, 'Becca. Why yes, I do believe that a working lunch at that place with the yummy yummy adult beverages might be a thing that can happen. I'll pencil it in.
OH HELLZ YA!" Alanna answers in Nick's declaration of hammered and the getting thereof. She walks up and snakes an arm around his shoulders. "You're a man after my own heart. Lead the way...and we'll see what other parts of me you can get after."
She finishes with a wink that can only be called 'salacious'.
"I could do drinks."
A job well done receives good pay, and the bonds Rebecca Muldooon passes out certainly qualify. She also smiles at the suggestions of drinks. "Tell you what. For working so fast, and allowing me to personally escort Donny back to our place..." She turns to the bartender, who nods. "We'll keep the Green Rhythm open late, just for you. Drinks on me, tonight. Good job." With that and a final grin, she sits in the back seat of the car, and the bartender closes her door before sitting in the passenger seat.
Colin regards the team for a moment longer, then nods slightly. "Thanks for the help." He lingers only one moment longer before getting into the driver's seat and pulling away.
- - - - -
Perhaps what passes that night at the Green Rhythm is better left to the imagination, rather than providing the details. Some may have passed the hours in raucous jubilation, drinking into the wee hours of the morning; some may have chosen the path of moderation, seeking to avoid the troubles of a morning after such a party. Regardless of their activities, the team go their ways at the end of the night, with the bartender seeing them off--calling transportation if needed--and reminding them all of tomorrow's new meeting.
- - - - -
The next day, come 3 PM, the runners return to the Green Rhythm once more, by now familiar with the bar and its surroundings. Rory is lounging on the steps outside once more, and he smiles and winks at each of the team as they arrive. The bar is mostly empty; the bartender is behind the counter, polishing a glass. He also nods toward the other inhabitants of the room: a couple of men, an elf and an ork. "Say hello to the new blood," he comments, but it isn't clear who he's talking to. "You'll be seeing more of each other, we hope. Boss'll see you all soon."
Nix doesn't drink much, mainly because she hasn't actually gone drinking before. The perils of being underage. Once the little after party winds down, she gets a taxi and has it drive her around a bit before being dropped off a good few blocks from her apartment. Always better to be careful not to pick up a tail.
She's right on time the next day, dressed in her freshly cleaned suit and glasses again. "Nix. Just Nix," she introduces herself.
A handsome young elf dressed in what almost looks like a priest's frock smiles at the group as he returns what looks like a rosary to his pocket. He has no obvious chrome and does not seem to be carrying a weapon.
Umm..hi. Guess you can call me Rune?"
While he seems somewhat nervous, it seems to bring out his boyish charm and a smile like a gigawatt laser doesn't hurt either.
When the group gathers, Rune will use his Mind Probe Spell to see what the others are thinking.
Force (7) = 8 successes
Drain (5P): = 5 successes - No Drain
I have been reading about mind probe and I am not too sure if you want this in your game. There seems to be a whole lot of controversy over this spell, and the description is not very clear on its use. If you want I can take another spell instead. If that is the case ignore my attempt above.
"...and that's why I'm saying, mate, bet on them. Brawl's all about the Matrix these days, and they've got the best gear!", the ork explains enthusiastically on his commlink, one hand exaggeratedly waving a cigarette around as he's talking, the other holding a half-full pint glass. "It's free money, mate, I'm tellin' you! Anyway, gotta leg it, talk to you later."
The ork stands up from his chair. Dressed in a finely tailored dark gray longcoat, trousers and fine leather shoes, the image is somewhat interrupted by a plum-and-cyan jersey under the unbuttoned coat. His frame is large even for an ork, standing at nearly six and half feet and with massive shoulders. The few wrinkles and baldness around the forehead suggest he's around middle age, and a couple of small scars and a broken nose hint that he's probably not a wageslave here for a drink. No weapons are visible around or on the man, but he moves with unnatural celerity.
He throws a glance at the bartender "Oi, you weren't taking the piss on blood being new, eh?", before nodding at Nix with a grin. "Afternoon, love.", he says, extending a massive hand for a handshake. "Name's Tony, but you lot can call me Geezer. Stuck when I crossed the pond, you know." He takes a sip from his beer, glancing and weighing the newcomers. "So, what's happening? All I know is that Muldoon told me to come to the pub at 3 in the afternoon on a weekday, so I didn't think to ask for details. Or wanted to, really.", he chuckles darkly, rubbing his nose.
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Perhaps the team was too drunk, perhaps someone slipped some pills on their drinks... or the impossible was happening and Sarge smiled.
Legit money, not a single bullet hole and free drinks? Jackpot Nicky Nick. Welcome to the profitable shadows
The ex-PI indulged himself with caution, booze being an old friend he knew how to achieve nirvana without puking out his entrails, but the longer the celebration dragged on, less serious was his frown and more obvious was his smile...
...Until he could be officially declared drunk, and at that moment Nick stood up and with a hand flexed behind his back and the other extended towards the two Anyas he was currently seeing he asked "May I have this dance, darling?"
Nick wasn't the most elegant or classy dancer, but he sure was a dedicated one. Alas, booze had already taken the wheel and the ex-PI tripped with his own feet, menacing to bring both of them to the floor. With pain showing in his face, Nick grabbed Anya by her waist and managed to stop the funny tragedy from happening before returning to the table.
High Society sure missed the chosen one, Nicky Boy[/i]
[B]"Damn girl, chrome sure weights more than it seems at first glanze... and now my drinking elbow is killing me. Fragging arm hasn't be the same since the whole chemical bamboozle. Doc said most of the damaged muscles could be repaired, but frag him, it hurts 24/7... specially when it's going to rain."
Sarge ordered another drink, decided to silence the pain with his trusty liquid friend... and the rest of the night was hidden by a thick alcoholic mist.
Came morning... or midday actually, Nick brewed a huge cup of synthfee with extra caffeine and none of that I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Sugar drekk before heading towards the Green Rythm. Half drunk, half hungover but wholly aching, the thin rain cleared his mind and body.
But not your sins, Nick, ain't no luck for the Smiths...
"...unless they make their own." he muttered as he entered the place. The ex-PI politely nodded at Rory, a half smile showing.
Sarge 'scanned' the new recruits, exhaling a completely audible sigh as he hears the codename Rune coming from the priest-like elf "No offense intended, Rune, but you look like a mage and I've always had bad experiences with fragging mages. Having them by my side? That's new, amigo, and I hope it's neato." he says before turning to Tony.
"Oh, boy, the world is small. The hell is Tony Geezer doing here? A new bussiness opportunity, I bet." before offering his hand to the orc.
"Where are my manners? Name's Nick, boyos, but call me Sarge when we are working. The others do the heavy work while I stay sharp and look menacing." he jokes.
A jest, Nicky Nick? These are strange times...
Nathaniel comes back to the bar after having kept himself under control the night before. The shotgun is no longer slung across his shoulder, but the pistol is still strapped to his thigh. He sports a healthy bruise across his jaw from where Crusher punched him, but he doesn't seem too worse for wear. When he's introduced to the new folk—or is he one of the new folk?—he just gives them a polite nod. "Name's Paladin, Nice to meet you." He finds himself a seat and waits for the signal to head to the backroom. "Don't know what's going on either, actually. We were asked to do the same thing."
Grabbing the hand with a toothy grin, Geezer gives it a strong shake. "Oi, constable, always a pleasure. You treating the bike proper?", he chuckles, letting go of the arm and finishing his pint with a single swig, giving a hand gesture to the bartender to pour two new pints, a smug grin appearing on his face. I wonder if the geezer knows what that means back home. Stuffing his cigarette with disgust in the ashtray, he shakes his head. "Something of the sort, I suppose.", he chuckles darkly.
"I got me a partner in the chopshop, Pam, and the hag's the Muldoon's seventh cousin three times removed or somesuch rubbish.", he shares, with apparent affection in his tone, before pulling out a packet of contraband cigarettes and offering one to Sarge. "So now that I get a job from the Muldoons, they ask me to pick up soymilk and noodles on the way back as well. Not all bad, though, more time for my vices, so I've picked up a new one.", he points to the cigarettes as he lights his up, and takes the newly poured pints of dark stout, handing one to Nick. "And how'd you get in the 'running business?", he asks, sending a grin at the rest of the team. "Not the company I imagined seeing your sorry mug with, mate." He sends a wink at Wraith. "Because this one is smiling."
Shrugging, Geezer nods back at the elf. "Pleasure, mate." Pointing at his bruised jaw, he chuckles. "Well, from this I suppose our hosts aren't asking you to renovate their properties." Turning his eyes at last to the quiet elf standing next to him, he leans backwards on the bar. "Rune, eh? What brings a minister to a bar? Should I be expecting a rabbi and a priest to walk in?", he barks out. "Taking the piss, mate.", pointing at Sarge. "And don't let him talk s$@*e about Awakened."
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Sarge accepts the cigarette and lights it "Long story, Geezer, a hell of a story actually. But that's one I'd rather tell with some drinks, I will only say that it all starts with the fragging Shack blowing to pieces while I was picking up some Nodka(tm)."
"Anyway the job is fine, pays well and we did make a difference. Not the worst way to pay the bills, I tell you. But wait, you went through the alter? Oh amigo, I'm happy for you. And sad. Wish you the best of lucks, you'll need it."
"Anyway the job is fine, pays well and we did make a difference. Not the worst way to pay the bills, I tell you. But wait, you went through the alter? Oh amigo, I'm happy for you. And sad. Wish you the best of lucks, you'll need it."
As an alter is mentioned, Geezer bursts into laughter. "Oi, pal, I might've taken the occasional kick to the gob in my day, but I'm not that mental.", he laughs. "We're already in one legal contract together, a second one would just have us take heavier drugs. To screw over UCAS Tax Office until death or litigation do us part, that's us."
"Another talkative one I see..." Nix can't help a small sigh as she rubs her eyes under her glasses. "Yes, I'm new. No, I don't know what's happening any more than you or anyone else here does. If I had to guess, they want to hire us to do something else for them." She sets her briefcase on the floor and takes a seat then absently starts to clean her glasses. Her eyes flick between the two newcomers, carefully taking their measure while they introduce themselves.
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Few things hold more comfort for Wraith than the words 'Free Booze" and she takes to it like a starving man to a Double Happiness buffet. She starts with lagers and ales, but even that contrition to moderation can only hold so long. At an hour when most decent folk are heading to bed, she orders up rounds of shots and declares the night only begun. At last the mass waves of untrained alcoholic conscripts begin to overwhelm the entrenched elite defenses of her 'ware and she gets drunk.
Alas, loss mental facilities leads to a loss of the guard watching over her tongue and before long she's babbling about Derrick, and something about an orc mage. Like a drowning man grabbing a life preserver, she accepts Nick's invitation to dance.
Of course, how Anya dances and how the rest of the world dances might be different things. Before not too long her tongue is launching probing attacks at his ear while she appears to be doing her best to climb on his shoulders. "Let's make a night you'll always remember," she whispers. Due to retarded brain functions or old fashioned gravity, the world goes black....
Anya wakes up with no memory of the prior night. She crawls out of bed and thanks Nick for making coffee, pouring herself an equally large cup. Within minutes her scientifically-enhanced glands bring her systems online, and after a quick trip to the bathroom she emerges as fresh and ready as a clip loaded with HP rounds.
"Care to give me a lift to th' meet?" she asks kindly, but with little of the neon-hot warmth shown a few hours previous.
"Hoi new chummers!" Anya says to the new people, since she is -clearly- the established norm and these are just new blood brought in to run interference for her. "Pleased t' meet'cha. I'm Wraith."
She returns Geezer's wink. "It's no big shakes. My smile is...mostly harmless," she says with a dangerous smile.
"Oy! Bartender! What's a lady have t' do to get a drink in this place? Or, ah, would you rather I just served myself?" she says hopefully.
"So, Geezer, Rune, how new are ya to th' biz? You guys hardened bioroids that bag'n'tag Halloweeners an' rage-buff at Ancients, or are ya still wet in places an'll make me change yer nappies?
Why does everyone give me that look? You don't know how I change nappies...."
Rune look around and smiles at Anya.
"I have worked for...others before, but this will be one of my first "freelance" jobs. Oh, and yes, I am a mage."
"I'd doubt it." Nathaniel rolls his jaw, but doesn't grimace when it lets out a loud crack. "Ah, that's better." When Geezer calls attention to it, he just shrugs. "This was just a pissed-off ork pumped full of chrome; he came out worse off than I did, considering he's not breathing. I've had worse. Once had a troll come after me holding an assault cannon like a pistol."
"This was just a pissed-off ork pumped full of chrome; he came out worse off than I did, considering he's not breathing. I've had worse. Once had a troll come after me holding an assault cannon like a pistol."
"Was the dumb tosser holding it sideways, too?", asks Geezer with a grin, doing his best thuggish impression.
"So, Geezer, Rune, how new are ya to th' biz? You guys hardened bioroids that bag'n'tag Halloweeners an' rage-buff at Ancients, or are ya still wet in places an'll make me change yer nappies?"
"Oi, love, we're in Boston. We're all soggy dodgers at least twice a week.", Geezer replies to Wraith, flashing a grin with a glint of gold in the background. "Never ran with a big team. I did rock a pink mohawk in '57, though, if that gives me bonus points.", he shares, nursing his pint. "And you're not going to see any of those techware gubbins on this ' ere geezer, darling. I settle things the roit proper way - good old fists and English charm.", he chuckles, popping his collar and sitting in an extremely unsophisticated position. "Having a lot of Sixth World Mojo doesn't hurt, either."
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Anya is happily sipping something brown and liquid from a tumbler as the orc mentions his mojo...and the last half of the glass' contents dribble down her chin as she forgets how to swallow. "You're...you're a...." she stammers.
*********************************
the orc bellowed as he stomped down the hallway. He openly walked toward them. Alone. One single metahuman was BRAZENLY calling out over a score of weapons-and-leather festooned gangers and runners making their way out.
"He's...he's not supposed to be here," the beautiful and charismatic Derrick stated under his breath. "But he's not, uh, he's not gonna stop us. Light him up!" he called, bringing his own predator up.
Anya was still tying up her rucksack as RockOn was first. RockOn was always first. His massive cannon acquired his target and belched out flame and death in a constant stream.
The orc held up his hand and the bullets just...stopped. Then with a scream of tortured metal RockOn's cannon tied itself into knot and fell to the ground heavily. "And here I thought this would be boring," said Lord Borak the Despoiler as he made a motion, the air in front of him lighting and writhing with living sigils. RockOn fell to his feet and started screaming, his intestines bursting out of his belly and wrapping themselves around his wrists and ankles and neck, his face quickly turning purple, choked by his own organs.
****************************
The shot glass falls empty from nerveless hands. "I...I gotta go," Wraith says as she slowly backs away from Geezer, her eyes wide as saucers. She knocks over a barstool and turns and SPRINTS out of the bar like it was on fire.
Rune is a little surprised at the orc's announcement of his magical background. He quickly assess the fellow in astral space to ascertain what powers he has, and to try and tell if his training could have come from the priesthood or not.
Assessing: 1 hit
The intactness of the ork's aura suggests that he's in quite good physical health, with a few almost completely imperceptible darker spots here and there. The warm yellowy-orange hue of joy appears to be quickly draining in patches, with purplish-gray confusion setting in slowly. The intensity and clarity of the aura suggests that he is indeed Awakened, although the rapid changes make it hard to detect his actual ability in the Astral.
Geezer, having turned towards the trid screen on the wall to catch a glimpse at the game, doesn't notice Wraith's reaction until he hears a glass shatter on the floor. "That's a wast...", he turns around towards his beer and peanuts, and sees the unexpected reaction, eyebrow arching up and mouth going wide open as the seemingly bubbly girl sprints out as if she'd seen a ghost. His previously overly wide gestures stop, as he rubs a hand on his chin. His eyes look over the room, stopping for a moment to stare at Rune. "Wot?", he mutters a second later. "Is the bird superstitious or something?", he asks, his hand scratching his head, somehow appearing to feel guilty. "Loik, I know it's not all that common.", he shrugs. "But she didn't react to Rune 'ere, and all the regulars 'ere know Ol' Rory's a Merlin, innit?"
Victoria's hand reflexively shoots to her concealed firearm for a second before she processes the sound. She shakes her head and settles back into her chair. "That's new. I've never seen her get shaken up by anything like that." She gives him a look. "You're not all that scary. We put down someone much bigger than you yesterday."
"Don't think so. The mage we killed in the Shack didn't seem to bother her much, either. Maybe something about Awakened orks? I don't know... I've known her for maybe three days, chummer, if that." He looks toward the door. "Should one of us go get her? Wouldn't want her to miss the meeting with the boss."
Raising an eyebrow at the human girl, seemingly half his age, weight, and half a foot shorter, Geezer's lips curls up. "I know, right, love?", he replies. "All cuddly and chipper, loik Big Bird. You watch his show?", he can't help but tease, before turning to Paladin. "Eh, could be. Yeah, mate, give 'er a ring. Tell her I promise I won't turn her into a newt, even if I could." Roit weird crowd, tell you..., he thinks, shaking his head as he finishes his pint. Shaking his head for the offer of a third, he stares at the trid screen on the wall.
<<"Wraith.">> Nathaniel just talks into the empty air, the commlink working away in his head. <<"Wraith, you're going to miss the meeting. Geezer says he can't turn you into a newt, so no worries for you. If you aren't back in a few minutes, I'm going to finish your drink for you.">> The elf leans back and sighs. "That ought to get her back here soon enough."
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I won't even be sarcastic,
Nicky Boy, that was simply puzzling
"I'm not so sure, Paladin... gal looked terrified... and I'm not sure Wraith has the whole Flight or Fight thing." said Nick as he started walking towards the door, his cigarette leaving a trail of smoke as he loved "I'll go after her before she storms the place. Drinks here are too good to allow it"
The ex-PI walked towards Anya with his hands in his pockets, stopping a few steps from her. "Look, Anya, I don't know what the frag happened in there... You want me to buzz off? I will. You wanna talk about it? We talk about it. You wanna drink it all away? I know a place." Nick stepped closer and offered her the cigarette "But you don't need to run away alone, babe, not anymore."
A true Irish gentleman. Ma would be proud, Nick
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******************************************
Mara, Guaga, and Athena were next. They were Spirit's little sisters, mostly grown and Derrick brought them along out of guilt, counting on the fat payday from this milk run to assuage his guilt from her death. The three girls took aim with their low-end SMGs and opened up, a wall of lead impacting uselessly against the orc mage.
He made a motion and something like a fireball went off near them. But instead of fire it was concentric rings of -steel-. The expanding circles of metal sliced through the three girls so quickly their severed heads had time to register astonishment and confusion before thumping to the ground.
Stone-Talon, their older brother and the family's only boy, screamed in rage. He was fifth dan, and a rising star in the Ancients. He got special permission for the run so he could protect his three living sisters. He ran headlong at Lord Borak, leaping the last three yards with a mighty superman-punch. His fist his the mage's ribs with the force of a small car and...Exploded. Stone-Talon just stared dumbly at his bloody stump and sank to his knees, his stub of a wrist bleeding out like a suicide victim.
Lord Borak just chuckled and moved on. He had more killing to do.
Three days later the now-childless father of Spirit killed himself in unending grief. His widow followed him the next day.
****************************************
It's not hard for Nick to find Anya. He just followed the sounds of muffled screams. She's down an alley and twenty feet up, balanced precariously on a ledge. One cybernetic climbing claw is keeping balance against a windowsill and the other arm is wrapped around her mouth trying to dampen her voice as she goes on screaming vehemently.
After a few minutes she runs out of steam and climbs back down. "Oh that? That's um...nothing. No talking. More drinking," is all she says as she wipes her eyes and heads back to the bar.
In any case, though, I should let you know that Hugo would be aware: there's a no-magic policy in the Green Rhythm. Hugo would have been told this by Rory at the door (Rory is a young man perceiving in astral sight while lounging on the steps outside--see here for his introduction, and know that he's dressed pretty much the same, albeit with a darker green shirt), and while Rory doesn't mention how it's enforced, it's an easy guess that it's probably a pretty serious policy. (Assensing is allowed, since it's a basic use of astral perception, but spells of any kind aren't.)
Re: Healing-- Yep, that's fine, Nathaniel. And unless you go looking for trouble today, I doubt you'll be getting in any fights before you have the chance to finish healing up.
As the various runners, new and old, begin to chat with one another, it seems like things are starting to settle in. The bartender gets people drinks, although not the fancy imported whiskey from the last meeting. Until Wraith's sudden outburst and flight, there's no trouble at all. When the woman does flee, the bartender looks after her, but he frowns and shrugs, as if to say, What happens, happens.
Outside, Rory starts and sputters as Anya whizzes past, but he stays seated near the entrance while Sarge fetches Wraith back. He cocks his head as the pair approaches, apparently concerned, although it's hard to tell from his unfocused eyes. "I was gonna just ask about the table, but seems something's given you a fright, girl. Don't tell me it was just the Celtics losing again?" If he catches drift of what caused Wraith's fear, Rory chuckles and shakes his head. "Geezer Talbot? Ach, he's a good fella, no worries there. I heard he used to play in the A&A overseas, 'fore he came across the pond. Hell of a leg, so I'm told, but he ain't exactly the voodoo hoodoo type."
Not long after everyone's regathered inside the Green Rhythm, the sound of the back room opening and closing drifts out. In a moment, Donald Muldoon rounds the corner, and he smiles and spreads his hands in greeting. Accompanying him is a human man in a fashionable but plain black outfit, heavy on the synthetic leather look. He's got some obvious 'ware, from the visible cyberhand poking from one sleeve to the not-quite-natural attachment on one side of his skull, complete with a visor across his eyes and a commlink speaker and mic clipped over one ear.
"Ah, good to see you all again," Muldoon says. He steps forward to shake hands with each of the runners in turn, nodding and smiling all the while. "Thanks for stopping by, and thanks again for the help with... well, let's leave that in the past." He winks and moves to greet Rune and Geezer. "I'm glad you boys stopped by, too. Rune, is it? You come recommended from some friends, and Geezer, well, I've heard good things about you. Bad, too, but enough good to outweigh it." He chuckles and claps his hands.
"So! The reason I've brought you all down here is that you're obviously folks of a certain leaning, not to mention certain skills. Most of you have already helped my family once or twice in some way, and you've all proven yourselves capable and reliable employees. So I thought that in order to repay you for your work so far... and, honestly, to build potential future relationships..." He grins and gestures to the other man. "May I introduce to you a business partner of mine. Tilt."
The human--Tilt--steps forward and nods. His mouth turns up into a smile, although you can't tell whether it reaches his hidden eyes. "Good to meet you folks. Mister Muldoon has highly recommended you." He reaches behind him to grab a bar stool, and then perches on it as he draws out and lights up a cigarette. "In case it isn't obvious, we're here because I'd like you to work for me, working for you." He takes a long draw and blows the smoke out his nostrils, smiling as he does so. "That is to say, I'm offering to be your friendly neighborhood fixer. I understand Mister Muldoon has already paid you handsomely for some services rendered, but I can offer you a whole lot more where that came from, if you're interested. I promise good work and good payments."
Nix nods politely to Mr. Muldoon and lets him introduce the last new arrival. "I like payments," she says once their potential fixer has given his pitch. "And so far we've made a competent team. Don't know about the new guys. But consider me interested."
Rune returns his rosary to the inner pocket of his waistcoat as the new gentlemen arrive. He recognizes Mr. Muldoon from their introductions by Father Donavan a few days ago. He hoped he was with a group that might be doing some good in this crazy world, but at the moment he was simply looking for a living and money to stay hidden.
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As Anya walks back to the bar with Nick, a shadow comes over her, and she mumbles out, "It was, um, it was an orc mage that caused me an' Derrick--" and like a steel trap her mouth closes, as if to make amends that so many words escaped their cage.
Wraith stops at the bar and rests an open hand on it. She doesn't move until glass is put in it. She tips it up, drains it, and waits for it to be refilled. Only then does she make her way to the meet, and, thus fortified, her scientifically enhanced body restores her complexion back to its normal butter creme softness.
"Any friend of Mister Muldoon!" Anya states, smiling and saluting and drinking to Tilt's good health. "And, as always, the sooner we begin building our mutually beneficial relationship the better! After all," the shadow again briefly passes her face, "you never know what tomorrow may bring."
Nathaniel doesn't say anything when Wraith comes back into the bar, he just raises an eyebrow. He watches as she downs the glass and comes over, the paleness leaving her face. 'Looks like she's got some baggage too.' When they're introduced to Tilt, Nathaniel stands up and gives the man a nod while he puts out a hand to the head of the Muldoon family. "Saving your daughter has turned out to be the gift that keeps on giving. I, for one, graciously accept your generosity." He looks over to Tilt. "Nice to meet you. You can call me Paladin, and I'm in agreement with Nix. Payment is always nice."
I knew I should've betted against Celtic..., thinks Geezer, shaking his head at the trid screen as the call arrives. As Nick and Wraith walk back in, he gives them a glance, then stares back at th trid until Muldoon walks in. Well, if it's not a pack of loonies, it's not fun, right?
As the Muldoon head walks in, personally, Geezer's eyebrow arches up. Himself proper?, he thinks, standing straighter up and popping his collar. "Thanks, Mr. Muldoon. Not one to miss opportunity knocking at the door.", he grins. As the fixer reveals himself to be one, Geezer nods. "Oi, that's proper-loik. From what I know, it's better to work with you lot than striking out for yourself. Count me in, boss. Always chuffed to help my local community and my bank account."
Donald Muldoon grins as the runners begin taking up the offer, and he nods at Geezer. "It's not like I'm ordering any of you to do this, but I thought it'd be a good repayment for all you've done for Pam, and what these folks have done for me. And to finally pay back the favor Father Donavan's always holding over my head!" He laughs and winks at Rune.
Tilt smiles as well, and he looks over the team. "Well, as far as I'm thinking, pay should be good. You look like you've got a solid setup here. You got your wizkid, a couple bruisers, technical expertise... a mixed bag, but what do they say about variety and spices?" He chuckles and turns his head for a moment; although he doesn't say anything aloud, his throat moves slightly, and you'd guess he's speaking with a subvocal mic. After a couple seconds, he turns back. "Now, I could try and hand you a job right now, but judging from the bruise on your face"--he nods at Paladin--"and what I'm hearing about work you did already, I'm guessing you might like a day off. Do some shopping, get some rest? So let's just exchange numbers and I'll contact you tomorrow."
At the mention of shopping, Muldoon claps his hands and gestures for Rune and Geezer to come over. "I almost forgot. Rune, this is part of my favor with Donavan--I said I'd set you up for a while, and that includes some cash now. And Geezer, consider it a gift. Frankly, I think you and Pam have done more for the family than you realize." He hands each of the pair an unmarked certified credsticks.
Geezer stares at the credstick for a moment, then pockets it with a grin. Well, better get to spending before he changes his mind, mate. "Well, both of us are doing the world a favour keeping the other in check, Mr. Muldoon.", he chuckles, putting his hands in his pockets and stretching the sizeable coat further. "Myself, I'm as flexible as a fresh Main Street rent-a-bird with a bad case of withdrawal,", he winks at Rune, "but if you lot feel like taking a break, I'll keep meself busy. Although.", he looks at Tilt, raising his hands in the air. "Saying this once. Doesn't rustle me one bit if you do, mate, but I don't waste runts under fifteen and I don't waste wives and kids. Just being clear." His stare is unnaturally serious for a short moment, as he swipes at something in AR. "Them's my digits." His face goes back to his usual rambunctiuous grin with a hint of thuggishness. "Also give me a shout if you need a car itching for crisp new colour. Will cut you a discount."
"A day off might be nice." Nathaniel just shrugs, watching with interest when Geezer starts detailing the jobs he won't do. "I was just gonna shoot you a message on your comms once we exchanged addresses, but this works too. If you can help it, I'd prefer not to take jobs associated with Ares. Working for them or against them, doesn't matter. I have... history that I'd prefer to keep buried if possible. I'll take the work if I need it, but keep that in mind."
"A day off would be good for me. I have an appointment at a bioware clinic and I'll be much more effective after a night to recover." Victoria glances over at Paladin and nods. "I don't work for Evo. They have... problems with my family and would very much like to know where I am. So unless you're trying to get me disappeared into an Evo strike team black bag, I'd like to stay away from them."
'History with Evo? There's no way she's former corporate security, she's too young. Maybe her parents were, or they were runaway wage slaves? I doubt they'd come after her for a bag and tag if that were the case.' Nathaniel holds Nix's gaze for a moment, trying to get a read on her. 'What the hell does this girl have that Evo wants? Or who does she know that has it?'
Hugo looks at the cred stick a little askew. It is strange, but this is his first "payment" since he started working as a magician. The Brotherhood use to take care of all his needs and the little 'pocket money' he did have was never more than a few hundred nuyen.
"Ummm...thanks. I guess I will need a place to stay, and if we are noting groups we will not harm or run against, then I will agree with Mr. Geezer...families and children are off limits. Also I would prefer not to work against Moth...ummm...the Catholic Church. Otherwise here is my contact details."
Scratching his head, Geezer looks at Rune with an uneasy smile on his face. "Look, mate, I've got me a spare bolt hole in the Barrens, if you're feeling like it.", he says, raising his hands in the air. "By bolt hole, I mean I'm paying buttons to the local gang running the neighbourhood to kick out drug dealers and bums from the place and leave some supplies every month." He shrugs. "It's got a fifteen year old Azzie trid screen, an old extendable sofa and a portable biodiesel heater." He shrugs. "If you're feeling like doing some picket fence shindiggery, we could get the place up and running, split things half and half?", he proposes.
"I've got a spare bedroom, if you need it. Well, as long as you don't mind a cybered-up ork and a mastiff running around... and the occasional empty threats from the Humanis goons next door. The food's pretty good, though." Nathaniel just shrugs, looking at Geezer. "If he wants a place to himself, though, that might be the better option. Either way, give me a ring and I can get a guest bed set up for you. The homeowner's committee—" Nathaniel grimaces as he says the words, "—shouldn't take much issue with it, and the worst you'll get is the sneering from the drek-heads next door. They used to be worse, but now they're pretty harmless." Something about the tone of Nathaniel's voice suggests that wasn't a coincidence, but he doesn't say anything further on the topic.
"Thank you both. It is very generous of you to offer me lodgings, but I think that perhaps I should get a place of my own. Study and concentration requires a certain amount of quite and separation. I am sure there is someplace I can pickup cheap around town. This retainer will also help greatly in that regard!"
He makes sure the rest of the group has his info so they can contact him.
Tilt nods as members of the team tell him what's off-limits. "Right, got it. No kids, no wives, steer clear of Ares, Evo, and the Church." One eyebrow arcs up over the visor at that last one, but he doesn't make any comments. "Sounds fair enough, and I'll make sure not to go sticking my head up my ass with jobs like that. Plenty of money outside of those, and that's how many triple-A corps still on the table?" He laughs and shakes his head. "Just drekking you, chummers. Corps are bad news all over, I'm not gonna send you at one of them unless I got one hell of a reason."
Muldoon chuckles and steps to the bar to get a drink, and Tilt turns his head before nodding slightly. "Alright, well, I hate to slot and run," the fixer says, "but I have to get going. Niece's got a recital, you know how it is." Either the man has a natural dry delivery, or he's telling the truth. "Get me your numbers, and I'll catch you tomorrow, yeah?" There's a moment when he stands still--a slight twitch of the mouth suggests he winked--and once he has everyone's contact info, he's off.