The first to step off the elevator is a young asian girl. Very young. She doesn't look like she could be any older than fifteen -- way too young to be in the business. Her eyes tell a different story. A story of experience hidden behind a facade she shows the rest of the world. An image matched by the spotted umbrella she carried and the wrinkled, slightly damp school uniform. The elevator door closes, apparently without another occupant.
The young girl walked across the room with a demeanor unmatched by her appearance. Her confident stride was every bit the runner; even if she did look terribly out of place. Her shoulder length black hair dangled behind her as she walked across the room in silence. Setting her umbrella down, she plopped herself onto the couch next to Friedrich and glared up at him, then at Billy. She nodded hello. You catch the glint of steel tucked into the folds of her clothes.
"The name's Chibiko. Geezer's late. I'd apologize for him, but he's usually late." She pulls the commlink off her ear and tucks it into a pocket.
The transition to Miami had been an unwelcomed one. Friedrich had hoped for sunny beaches and warm weather, but instead had received tumultuous rain that didn't seem to end. At least in Germany, the cold was welcoming.
Billy Chines had done most of the talking, well, actually all of it because Friedrich didn't understand English. The Brave Knight had no problem back at home, but now, he had truly felt like an outsider as everyone around him spoke in a different tongue.
More importantly, he was within a small office upon the top floor of some office building. The whole experience felt strange to him. For starters, the entire conversation was in a different language that he didn't understand. He could tell by the gestures that things were going well because of Billy Chines' demeanor. Perhaps he was an old friend, or a new lead.
At one point, Billy's friend had sized up the knight, and Friedrich felt happy that he was acknowledged.
"Sei Gegrüßt! Ich bin Friedrich Vanderhelm, geschätzte Ritter der Runde und Kreuzritter der Gerechtigkeit! Ich danke Ihnen für den Durchgang über. Ich hatte gehofft, dass Miami wäre schöner, aber ein Ritter nie beschweren! Eine Klinge von Sir Williams für Sie da!"
In the meantime, he preoccupied himself by sitting upon the couch and wore a focused look. Seeing that his words suffered from translation, he turned to Billy and asked him to translate.
"Ser William, share my gratitude with our esteemed host."
The doors opened, and Friedrich almost went to alarm until he saw a small humanoid approach. Judging by her appearance, she seemed to be the daughter of perhaps Billy's friend, or the receptionist. A girl was still a lady, and they deserved honor and respect.
Turning his head, he sized the new arrival and thought to himself.
A bud unblossomed....thousest a peculiar one indeed. Could she have ill portents? A witch? I will have to learn more about her
Friedrich gave a nod and regarded the new arrival with interest.
"Hallo. Sind Sie ein Freund von Sir William?"
Several minutes and dings of the elevator have passed, in what seems to be almost a half hour after the teenage schoolgirl stepped out of the elevator. A young heavily bearded man wearing a dark tattered hoodie and ill kept jeans steps out, showing no concern of his tardiness as he brought with him a McHughs bag containing a large burger and a drink, amongst a backpack strapped to his back. His figure isn't imposing, standing short of five feet six inches and weighing no more than a hundred and thirty pounds.
He walked across the room finding his group, though he had a hunch that Chibiko arrived first, so he set his priorities on finding her. He walked back and forth, almost aimlessly, and eventually found her with the German-bound folks.
He walked over to the group and spoke with a mouthful of soy, "So, I assume you're the guys I'm supposed to be meeting up with?" He spoke those words in a very gruff voice, almost as if it was tainted by several chugs of booze or deep inhalations of cigarettes. He says after swallowing, "I see that the Asian chick is already with you. I would have arrived sooner, but certain needs had to be dealt with." He takes another bite out of his burger. "Call me Geezer."
James nods, then pushes a pair of soykafs across the table to the two newcomers. "So the gang's all here, excellent!" He points around the table and names everyone as he goes: "Billy Chimes, Friedrich, Chibiko, and Geezer. So... down to business, my new and old friends?" He smiles as a clap of thunder resonates dangerously close outside. The man's bright demeanor almost made you forget about the weather. Almost.
He grabs a small datachip from a pocket and pushes it onto the center of the table. James looks almost upset by the chip, averting his eyes from it. "As I explained to Billy, a few of our mutual friends... are in some serious trouble." His voice sounds choked. Slowly he adds, "the chip will explain it better." He leans forward and tentatively inserts it into an integrated trid player. The machine whirs to life and starts projecting images above the table.
It begins in silence; cast in black and white like some classic film from ages ago. Yet the images are unspeakable. The place looks like a butcher's shop. Blood and entrails hang from hooks as the image expands to show the room in its entirety. Along one of the walls a trio of girls lay chained up, weeping. A dead body hangs beside them, its chest sliced open while multiple organs dangle free. Another girl hangs suspended from a series of restraints beside a man who could only be described as a butcher. He runs a large knife along the skin of the woman, as though considering his cuts. Abruptly the man glances off screen, to something not shown in the trid. He speaks, but there is no voice to his words. He appears to have a conversation for several minutes before stopping and setting his knife down. Slowly, the butcher nods, and retrieves a drill you recognize from various cyberclinics. He takes a knee before the restrained girl and seems to console her before setting the drill up to her skull.
The image fades, and the trideo hums softly. Only its soft glow lights the storm-blackened chamber. A long moment of silence hangs over the runners and their employer as they exchange glances. Eventually James speaks, but his voice is quiet. It has lost all of its previous joviality, and holds only a sorrowful intonation.
"You may recognize her, Billy. She's one of our girls. This was taken only a week ago. She hasn't been seen since."
"Kurva" Billys nerves were a little on edge from that video, he hadn't seen that girl for many years, nice enough to talk to, and did her part of the show with gusto as a good body actress should.
The scene reminded him why he had stopped doing this business, that had the hallmarks of a guro production and he was thankful he'd moved on from being part of such a thing.
"I hope that's not what the competition is moving onto now, I figured they would get into some s~~& but flat out snuff was still a bad business practise".
He'd wanted to be more crass but this was still business and he didn't know the other two well enough yet. Better to keep it between him and Freddy.
Billy realised that Freddy was in the dark somewhat so he quickly gives him the low down in German.
James waited for the quick hyperspeed German translation to close out before sighing. "I'm not sure that's all it is, Billy." James stood and headed over to the minibar and readied himself another coffee. The real stuff. He takes a long sip before he continues.
"Kurva isn't the first. A couple others went missing and only Cherry popped back onto the grid again. The rest are all... gone. If some snuff was all these drekheads were into it wouldn't even be on the radar - they'd know enough to keep their hands off my merchandise. The trid looks amateur, like someone thought they could make money off the scene as an afterthought. Not the main attraction."
He walks over to the window and stares out over the stormy Miami. "And worse, half the girls are SINless. The Star won't touch the case with a ten-foot pole. Hence your employment."
Geezer looks intrigued by the footage, as if he likes what he's seeing. The screams of the girls send satisfying shivers down his spine, almost as if he wanted them to suffer. He takes a sip of the soykaf enjoying the sight, but winces at the taste.
"I assume you want us to track down the person that's committing those murders?" he says before washing away the taste with the dishwater soaked fountain soda from McHughs. "That can be arranged."
"Absolutely," James answers simply without even bothering to turn around. "I want you to track him down and make him pay. And save anyone still savable. I'll pay you big. We're talking tens of thousands for this. I've got loads of money to throw at this fraghead."
He turns around abruptly, putting on his best Mr. Johnson face. "I trust you can take care of that and keep it all discrete? I don't want more of my girls endangered."
The whole scene chilled Chibiko to the bone. She tried not to let it show on her face, but the scenes were all too familiar to her. She'd seen a lot in her travels... in her experiences. She'd done just as many awful things as she'd seen. But those were all in her past; she'd sworn to strike up a new page in her life's story here. Thousands of miles from her past - a past she couldn't seem to escape.
And here fate had thrown her the perfect opportunity for atonement. She was loathe to reject. Hell, she'd even have considered this particular job for free. "We're in," she answered for the group. "He won't get away with this."
Before he could state that he would accept the job, Chibiko answered for the group. The women dying in the footage reminded him of a bridesmaid from one wedding reception, who did unspeakble things to him that sent him over the edge. He would never mention to anyone that he was raped, but the past still haunts him to this day, even going so far as looking at any woman who would remotely look like her would send him into a murderfit.
Deep down, he knew that the women in the footage, despite some of them looking a lot like the bridesmaid, are not her. He would have to put aside his personal feelings to do the job correctly, but he fears that the looks of the women that he is tasked to save would trigger his memories of that day he would abandon his music career to become a gunner.
"I guess the Asian lady spoke my mind. I'm in as well." he said quickly.
"Yah, on behalf of my friend and myself, we are in. But we will need to know all the info you have on this guy, any people who might be out to get you or your girls and any locations that we can visit to get some info on possible leads."
Billy hands fidgeted a little, some of this felt wrong, he hoped he would get a chance to talk with James on his own later.
The young girl tries not to the roll her eyes, and instead shifts herself away from Geezer. "I do have a name," she mumbles with a cool, passive anger. She tried to remember why she worked with Geezer. She was only drawing blanks.
"That's just it, Billyboy. I haven't a clue who he is. I can't think of anyone that would be out to hurt me or my girls specifically... though there's a few other media corps that want to see Horizon fail. But that's nothing out of the ordinary." He gestured helplessly at the trideo player. "This is."
He took a deep breath and scratched his chin in absent-minded thought. "They're from all over Miami. A girl from West Miami, a pair from the Gables, and a few from up near Little Haiti or something like that. And like I said, only Cherry came back. She seems alright and didn't seem to know anything about it. I figured it was something personal and didn't push the issue. They've worked for me and a couple of local upstarts - projects like the things Billy and me used to do. And a couple of them worked downtown for their uh, 'graveyard shift,' if you catch my drift."
"hmm we should go talk with Cherry and push the issue a little, could you send me a hard copy of the faces in the video and Ill get to chatting with our lone survivor"
Unfazed by her passive aggressiveness, he looked at Chibiko after finishing his burger. "The name escapes me," he says disinterestedly, though the gears in his head are turning to search for her name.
"I know that guy over there..." as he points towards Billy "...is named Billy. And you're James. And Friedrich..." he suddenly had a eureka moment "...Chibiko! That's your name."
He finishes his fountain soda, crumbles up the burger wrap, and stows them both in the paper bag, expecting to find the nearest trash bin after the meeting. "I'll try to remember your name next time, if it makes you feel any better."
The knight's eyes widened at the horrible scene of visceral carnage. In no right mind should a woman ever suffer such a fate. If any person could develop an arousal to such horrific acts, they were surely beyond redemption.
A fire erupted within Friedrich. There was no greater evil than the torture and exploitation of the fairer sex. Prompty standing up, he drew his massive blade and stabbed the ground while yelling in German.
"Nur ein Bube wäre eine solche schrecklichen Taten so vile zu tun! Ein Schuft und Meineid als er die ultimative Zorn ins Gesicht! ".
"Only a knave would do such horrible acts! A wretch so vile and perjured as he shall face the ultimate wrath! I, Friedrich Vanderhelm, Knight of the Round, Crusader of Justice, and Protector of Women will go on this quest to stop this horrible incursion!"
Eyes around the room focused on his action as the stalwart knight broke his calm demeanor. He stood before his client, James, puffing and trying his best to keep his resolve.
Drek's about to get real
Geezer could not take his eyes off of Friedrich as he puts on a show that he thought would only be possible at a live action role playing game.
"...Wow, he sure is stuck in his fantasy," he mumbles to himself.
James looks a little taken aback by Friedrich's sudden liveliness. He glances at Billy for a quick translation, then help Friedrich settle back into his chair. "I understand your anger. Your aid is appreciated." He glances to Billy and nods. "I'll have my techs do up a whole profile on each of my missing girls. You can expect it tomorrow morning. Just let me know if there's anything else you need."
He offers a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn. "Ah, drek," he groans. "But I think that's probably enough bad news for one night. I can't imagine the jetlag is doing you two any favors, either."
Slowly, Chibiko leans forward and hides her face in her palms. Great, she thought. Another maniac. Just what I needed.
Billy jumped at teh knights action but could see he was getting visably disturbed, quickly he broke into rapid german and tried the calm the man mountain.
" Freddy ! Entspannen wir die Menschen dafür verantwortlich zu finden , dass Ihre Energie nicht verschwenden hier , wir müssen die Menschen zuerst zu finden. "
Translation:
"Freddy! relax we will find the people responsible for this, don't waste your energy here, we have to find the people first."
"So James, is there anything else you need from us?" he said to the Johnson. He noticed Chibiko showing quite the disdain of Freddy's antics. He stifles a laugh.
"Not tonight, Geez." James places his mug down on the table and pulls the datachip from the trideo. The room's lights come back on to their dull florescent sterile glow. James doesn't look any happier. A world of difference from his attitude when you walked in. "Billy's got my contact information if you need to get in touch. I can forward you an advance if you think it'll help bring down the fragheads responsible for this."
Geezer lifts himself from the chair and proceeds to exchange all of the contact info with everyone in the meeting. "I'll be in touch tomorrow morning then."
He walks away from the table toward the elevators, neither knowing nor caring that he left his cup of soykaf on the table.
Weekday mornings were problematic. Chibiko's arrangements with Professor Finklestein kept her cover mostly intact, but she still had to put in a cursory appearance every so often to keep the documentation valid. Tomorrow just happened to be one of those days.
"Mornings are drek. Contact me when there's something worth doing."
She stood up and gave a slight bow to her new teammates; a slightly more noticeable one to her new employer. Then Chibiko grabbed her polka-dotted umbrella and headed for the elevator. With any luck she'd miss the one Geezer was taking.
Well that seemed to go without much of a hitch, seems those two have a history? I guess we had better get ourselves setup for the night and prepare for the leg work tomorrow. Billy then opened his mouth for a moment and then stopped, seeming to ponder on how to best ask the next question. "James, how is the business going right now? I know you are a business man through and through, but; is there anything you'd like to tell me now that we are alone?" Eyeing Freddy for a second present company excused. I mean you could have hired a dozen goons to deal with this straight from here, but you hired me. Is there something else we should know? You can rely on me to keep my tongue clipped if its secretive.
"Actually... things have been going well. Swimmingly well. Somehow I've managed to hitch myself to a rising star with Horizon. They've been making a killing in LA and making the other media conglomerates look like amateurs." James laughs then shrugs. "For once I think I really was in the right place at the right time. This sucker's poised to take AA status within the year."
With a sense of his usual self finally returning, he taps a console and lets the lights dim. He tips his head towards the elevators. "As for why you? Well, I trust you. There's plenty of runners in the sea, but I don't know their heads from their asses. I don't know who's on whose payroll. I don't know which corps might like to see Horizon Subsidiaries fail before it really gets rolling. This might all be some sociopathic fraghead. Or it might be one of the AAAs protecting their turf." His voice isn't sad anymore, but dangerously cautious. Dealing with the megacorps was nothing to sneeze at. Even a cursory glance towards the towering skyscrapers of Miami Beach showed just how much clout the AAAs held here. Hell, they held that much power across the world.
The elevator doors ding open and James waves you on ahead. "You guys take care, alright? I know it's not common policy to care about your disposable assets... but we go a ways back, man. Keep your ear out for trouble."
Billy gave Freddy a nod to show they were to leave, Billy gave James a hand shake and a nod and left for elevator. don't worry James, we'll find out who did this, and we'll make sure they don't bother another girl again, talk to ya soon. And thanks for the vote of confidants :) With that the doors of the elevator closed and the two made their way to the ground floor.
The driver was still waiting for Billy and Freddy as they left the building. There was no sign of the young woman behind the desk; she'd obviously either gotten the okay to leave or was tired of waiting for it. The rain hadn't let up either. The two runners pile into the car and the driver takes off without saying a word.
A good ten or twenty minutes pass in relative silence as you watch the city of Miami through the tinted glass. Apparently wherever James had you set up wasn't the nicest part of town - the buildings average only a few stories at the most, and the neon signs flicker in reminiscence of the Verchissenstadt. Most of the businesses are labeled in English, Spanish, and Or'zet. And most of them also boasted heavy, rusty bars over the tops of the first and second floor windows. Even still some of them were broken as though by a hacksaw. Or a really angry troll, you suppose.
Eventually the driver turns down a side street and rolls up a back alley. The oppressively close bricks of the narrow street seem to squeeze the car, but the driver has little trouble navigating it. A couple seconds later, he stops before a tiny opening in the alleyway - just enough room to park a car or a bike or two.
Friedrich's bike sat along the wall, its wet, polished metal glistening in the light of the car's headlights. A rusted up door beside it boasted a seemingly functional maglock with a keypad. The driver turns to you and drops a paper between the two of you in silence. All that was written on it was a simple string of numbers. "028291." Guess this was where you were staying. Wasn't much to look at on the outside, but at least it was off the beaten path.
The driver departs almost as soon as your feet are out of the car. The keycode seems to work and the door opens immediately into an old, worn out staircase. You climb the creaky things to the second floor and find a small apartment. Mostly unfurnished, but it did have a table and several crates of stuff. Your stuff. And a toilet.
No door for the toilet, though. That was going to get awkward real quick. At least it had running water and two whole bedrooms! Not that the beds were much to speak of. The cots in them were filthy and probably infested with mites that had mites of their own.
Good news, though: at least it wasn't leaking. And it was yours, if only for the moment.
Geezer walked out of the building and was greeted by a heavy downpour that did not let up since he answered call to this building. He waves out in the street.
The taxi eases up on the curb Geezer stands near. He swings open the door and gets in. His weight as he's sitting out squeezes out the water his hoodie collected from the rain and soaks the seat.
"Where you off to, sir?"
"Hialeah."
"Christ, really? The driver turned around and looked at Geezer. Large canines protrude from his lower jaw with the left one chipped. He is also missing one eye. "why would you want to go there?"
"I live there," Geezer said, expecting one of the five most common retorts in regards to his living status to come out of the mouth of the driver.
"I don't know how you're still alive."
Second most.
The driver shifted to drive. The wipers move along the windshield in song with the double bass kick coming from the heavy metal track playing on the radio, but it isn't fast enough to keep most of the droplets from the rain off. The buildings went from being somewhat up-kept to extremely wartorn and vacant as they make the turn to Hialeah. Geezer would catch glimpses of prostitutes walking about on the streets at this hour, but apparently they were smart enough to stay in doors for the night. The car pulls in front of the apartment Geezer lives in.
"That'll be 20 nuyen, please," the driver stated after shifting the gear to park. Geezer shifted through his wet heavily worn wallet and pulled out the soaked tenders need to satisfy the driver.
"Thank you, sir, he said. ”Be careful when you walk out, I've heard a gunfight nearby recently."
"What else is new?" Geezer retorted. "It's a fraggin' drekhole. I wouldn't be surprised if I find a halfer in a trash can fragged after slotting a local prostitute." He grabs his backpack and attempts to open the car's door nearest to him, but it won't budge.
"You have a child lock on this stupid thing?"
"Use the other door," the driver stated. "The mechanism is damaged and it opens only from the outside. I'm not going outside in this drekhole where a stray bullet would fly into my head at any given point in time."
"Fine, you slit." Geezer mutters as he shimmies toward the other door. As he climbs out, he utters to the driver. "I doubt you'd be any safer in this car anyway if a bullet were to come to you."
"The glass is reinforced. I'd like to see them try. Have a good night," the driver rebutted. Geezer slammed the door and the car went off.
"Yeah, your company can afford bulletproof glass, but not a fraggin' door. Whatabunch of cheap bastards," Geezer said to himself as the car rides off into the rain. The heavy rain soaked his hoodie enough to be mistaken that he swam with it on. He turned his attention to his apartment complex and walked toward it.
The apartment was looking worse for wear everyday. Mold and cracks run up the bricks to the roof and the stench of rotting spare parts emanated from the nearby alleyways. The building was dressed with graffiti, much of which included the terms "Leafblowers," "Dandilion Eater," "Geek all Halfers," and nearby gangs' tags. The paint shows signs of attempted cleanups, but one could tell that the vandalism would not let up even after the greatest effort to keep it clean.
Most of the windows were also either cracked, completely broken, or boarded up. Some were even barred in the hopes that no one would climb in, which would be proven difficult considering that the fire escape looks like it is barely holding up.
Geezer's thoughts were playing back the footage he saw during the meeting. It triggered another memory in which he was drugged during a wedding reception. Before taking on a career as a freelancer gunner, he made ends meet by playing music professionally at whatever gig he was offered, be it by a birthday party, a wedding, or anything else at the matter. After the reception calmed down, he went to the bar to have himself a drink when he came across a beautiful young woman who wasted no time in asking for a bit of slotting. She was one of the bridesmaids of the wedding he played in.
He turned her down, stating that he wasn't interested in doing something like that, and would rather do it with someone he trusts and/or cares about. He took a drink of what he remembered was a funny tasting vodka of his favorite brand, followed by lightheadedness and then completely blacking out.
He came to and finds himself handcuffed to a bedpost and completely naked. The bridesmaid, completely naked as well. "Hello there." she said as she feasted her eyes at his flaccid junk. He attempted to wrestle himself free from the clutches of his handcuffs, but his efforts became fruitless as she held him down. She proceeded to inject some kind of substance into him and made his loins harden.
He panicked and started crying for help as loud he could manage after being drugged, in which he could only managed to bellow out unintelligible slurring at high volumes. She proceeded to ride him, enjoying every minute of his tortured screams as she begins to thrust on him harder and faster.
"GREHHT OFFAA MEEHH!! HAAALLP!! SHOMEONE HEAALLP MEEHH, PLEAAAHHSSE!!"
"Stop f@@@ing crying," she said breathlessly, "I know you enjoy this. All men do."
Ten minutes have passed while he was providing a ride against his will, though to him it almost seemed like an eternity. He felt a release in his loins and blacked out. He came to moments later and finds himself naked in an alleyway, feeling cold, violated, and used. The images of the bridesmaid haunt him as he lost composure and started crying. He walked to his apartment shielding himself from innocent eyes using a rotted box.
"Hey! Are you getting in?" a voice behind him asked in a very aggressive tone.
Geezer was startled back to reality, the guns ready in his hands. He pointed them both behind him where the voice came from. No one was there.
"Down here, you drek." Geezer looked down and found a dwarf, clearly unamused.
"Stop waving those f&+*ing peashooters around." The dwarf looked unfazed by the guns, as if it was common sight for himself "You look like a f*@&ing idiot. Now are you gonna go in or not?!"
Geezer holsters his weapons. "Yeah, I was just thinking about something," he said.
"In da f@##ing rain? This ain't - err, wass dat movie you humans youseta watch back den? 'Singin' in the Rain?' Yeah, dis ain't dat no more! Now get outta my way!" The dwarf hobbled his way in the building, either he had a failed augmented leg, or he was born with a club foot. Geezer followed shortly.
He climbed several flights of old stairs, each one creaking loudly with every step he takes. He could hear ramblings and muffled gunshots upstairs, which was the usual case in this area. He would see penises carved and scribbled on the walls of the stairwell, along with hateful messages as well as phone numbers, most of which dealt with prostitution.
Eventually he makes it to his door. It read "404," with part of the last 4 missing a piece. He twisted the key into the bolt and pushed in as hard as he could.
The place was worse for wear but he was content with it despite being able to hear what goes on next door, and the floors above and below him. The windows were completely broken, and were duct taped with trash bags in an attempt to keep the moisture and outside contaminants out of his room. He had an old acoustic guitar stowed in a case by his air mattress. Ever since the traumatic experience, the guitar never left its case, yearning to be played again one day when he is able to fight off his fear of reliving the past if he plays music again.
Geezer hangs his hoodie outside of his kitchen to dry. He whips himself up a synthetic TV dinner in his barely working microwave, and sits himself down on his air mattress as he consumes his meal. He thinks about what to expect from his given job; will the women he is tasked to save trigger his traumatic memories? Time would be the only story teller to him. He proceeds to inhale some kamikaze after finishing up, satisfying his constant and uncontrollable crave for it, and falls asleep on his air mattress.
Chibiko pulled her scooter into the small covered parking area beside her building in the Gables. She parked the scooter in its usual spot and shook off her umbrella. Fortunately her ride was slow enough that she could just keep it open the whole way home. Played nicely to her cover, too. Only the most desperate gangers assaulted kids. And those that did quickly found out that Chibiko wasn't any average kid. Or a kid at all. She hid a smirk as she headed for the building's elevators.
Officially the building was an auxiliary dormitory for the University of Miami Preparatory School, an exclusive academy for only the smartest (and wealthiest) of kids. It ran the gamut from elementary through high school across its multi-building campus and was generally one of the more prestigious places of education in Miami. That also made it the perfect place to lay low for one in Chibiko's... state. Previously it was hard to stay off the grid. No matter where she went, she was always either assumed to be a runaway student or some kind of child prostitute. Neither was particularly good for her reputation; both attracted the wrong kind of attention.
Fortunately her arrangements with the Prof made life a lot easier. A few jobs for him and she'd secured a whole new identity. So long as he kept forging the documents, she'd keep appearing to be a student at the school. The only real trouble was that she had to put in an appearance once or twice a week. He couldn't forge every attendance record and he needed something to work with. So twice a week Chibiko had to sit herself through a boring class with a bunch of boring kids listening to a boring teacher probably ten years her junior. She shuddered at the thought. Worse, she shuddered at the thought of her cover identity being public in the shadow community. The effort she'd spend over the past year building a real reputation as a runner would have been for naught; she'd be a laughing stock. Just like everywhere else.
With a sigh she tossed the knives she'd kept under her uniform onto a table in her apartment. The dorm room was small and only had the barest necessities (better to learn without distraction!) but it was hers. The 7th floor dorm was a hell of a lot better than where she used to stay, and she'd even managed to avoid being stuck with a roommate. She wasn't sure how long that would last, though. Already she'd been sent three different missives about potential roomies. She shook off the thought. It was better to not even consider that problem until it became one.
She sat down at her desk and stared out the window. Various schoolbooks and other markers of her false life sat atop it. Notebooks and pencils; an AR display she never used; tests she'd aced on the days she'd been there; tests she'd failed on days she failed to show up. Grades and reports from the year past--when she'd been an entirely different student in an entirely different grade. All of them relics of a childhood long in her past. Raindrops ran down the windows like the tears she refused to shed for all of the suffering she'd endured.
Another sigh. Chibiko grabbed the compound bow resting atop her things and placed it to the side, then did a quick examination of the arrows in her quivers. Everything looked solid. Not that she'd need them for the morning. Part of her cover was membership on the archery team--but another part of her cover was being deliberately bad at it. Not so bad to be kicked off the team; just enough to never be invited to competitions. She set all those to the side. Instead she pulled the nearest book to the center of her desk. First year high school mathematics. Grudgingly opening the book, she grabbed her notebook and set to work doing the homework she needed to play her part tomorrow morning. The first of many assignments she hadn't done.
She glanced down at her commlink. It was already 12:32. The alarm icon blinked a pale green, its numbers indicating a fresh and early wake up call at 6 AM. "Mornings really are drek," she mumbled. She sat in silence as she worked; only the pounding of the rain and the distant, neon glow of Miami's nightlife for company.
October 29th, 2062.
In time, dawn rises on another day in the Sixth World. Miami looks fresh and clean in the morning sunlight, as though the rain could somehow wash away all the suffering and poverty hidden in its bowels. As you look out over the sleepy city, you know that will never be the case.
Yet the day lies ahead, and there's a murderous sociopath to bring to justice.
The only question is: Where do you even start?
Their meeting with the new client and team had left Friedrich embolden on another crusade. He didn't think he could find purpose so quickly in a different land. Miami had been a dark land so far, drowned by a torrent of rain and basked in the glow of AAA corps. Though some of the symbols seemed familiar, he couldn't understand the words that littered every building he came across. Sticking to his confidant, Friedrich joined Billy downstairs and entered their ride.
A few words were exchanged as the knight otherwise spent his time contemplating how the group should go about saving the damsels. Billy Chines knew that a silent Friedrich only meant tone thing – a deep anger had awoken.
It seemed like a treacherous path as the vehicle took a turn into a dark alley and bound down towards an opening. A moment later, and he pulled out of the ride and bound into the new apartment. Rickety stairs led to an otherwise s@*$ty looking living place complete with two rooms! It was like they were back at home in Germany!
Pulling his stuff towards the larger of two bedrooms, Friedrich propped himself against a nearby wall riddled with holes and scratches and removed his helmet. Pulling his hair to the side and wiping away rain, Friedrich's eyes adjusted to the low light of the room.
I need aid. I doubt my allies can provide for me. Pressing his commlink, Friedrich dialed the one number that he could rely on at any given time.
A fanciful tune played as Merlin's ID showed up on his contact list.
”Hallo Merlin, ich bin jetzt in einem anderen Land! Es scheint, dass ich in einem neuen Kreuzzug mit meinen Kolleginnen, William Chines. Ich bin, eine Metzgerei, die Frauen für Profit erschlägt besiegen und ich brauchen dringend Ihre Hilfe! Ich kann die lokale Sprache nicht verstehen! Hätten Sie etwas, das mir helfen kann? Außerdem muss ich schneller sein! Welche Zauberschriftrollen können Sie mir mit?”
“Hello Merlin, I am in a different land now! It appears that I'm in a new crusade with my fellow, William Chines. I am to vanquish a Butcher who slays women for profit and I desperately need your help! I cannot understand the local language! Would you have anything that can aid me? In addition, I need to be quicker! What magic scrolls can you provide me with?”
"Friedrich, aye. This journey sounds like one of grand proportions, my friend. But as you know, I am here to provide you and the members of the Round with the proper tools. I can forward you two grand formulae, once written upon the tanned hides of a mighty hydra and imbued with the finest magicks. The first, a translation spell capable of linking your mind to another sentient. While others hear your words, you hear your native tongue - no matter the man or beast! The other, a spell of haste that will bring your reflexes to near godly proportions! These two formulae will cost you a mere pittance of 1,000 pieces of this land's gold. You will, of course, need the magical arrangements of a proper mage's circle. One cannot imbue magicks unto themselves without one! If you do not have the materials, you can purchase them from a local trinket seller for another 1,000 gold pieces."
"Thankyou mein freund! I will put these tools to use! Please, allow the 'Round' to learn of my exploits. Ser Lamorak continues away!" said Friedrich as finished his commlink and awaited the delivery.
The next step would be to imbue the magic properly. Friedrich didn't trust his magic with any would be person - so he was left with little choice - he'd have to create his own magic circle. It seemed fitting anyway considering that his half of the apt was empty save for cracked walls and holes.
To begin the process, he'd have to find a trustworthy talismonger to buy the proper supplies to make the magic happen.
The Knight then walked over to Billy Chines, who sat huddled by a window looking through the blinds contemplating their next move.
"Mein freund, we shall make those heathens pay for the horrible attrocities they have wrought! However, I need your aid, comrade! Merlin has helped me with magic that can aid my understanding of this country's tongue, among others. Can you ask James if there is a local Talismonger that we can trust? I suppose it would be troublesome to enter a shop with no idea what they can say."
Billy grabbed his commlink and called up James to request some info on the local shops and ware mongers that they needed. Preferably ones that wouldn't need them to have to twist an arm to be taken seriously.
James readily forwards the info. There's a couple local talismongers in the area, and one in particular catches the eye - a troll shaman with an impeccable reputation for business. Apparently the last break-in ended with the thief in flames, scorched to the pavement.
Ok Freddy we got ourselves a troll shaman that shoudl have what we need, lets head out Billy grabs his coat and guns and heads off in the direction that James gave. Hopping on the back seat of the bike he prepares for a ride through the city.
It seemed like a scene out of an old trid vid whereby Billy Chines and Friedrich rode into the streets of downtown Miami in the pouring rain. The german made bike hummed in the cold evening puffing smoke that seemed the join the pollution that permeated every edifice of the city. Bright lights dulled by the overcast skies proved little indications as to where they were going. But it didn't matter to Friedrich, this was a new town and he was embolden on a mission.
The tracker on his bike pointed out several directions to take, but the knight stayed to well lit areas, hoping to get a better feel of the are. A quick turn at a rather strange looking road hazard brought the duo to the back section of what looked like a small motel. The neon light buzzed, "Wattleby's" but the most of the letters seemed to be phased, giving it the impression of "at_by's".
Parking his bike to the side, and having his senses tensed, Friedrich motioned towards a basement that bore strange trinkets and symbols. A brief buzz on the intercom, and he waited.
A moment passes, and eventually a hoarse voice answers back. "Whadya want?"
"I understand you're a purveyor of magical items and supplies. I wish to peruse your wares, mein freund." said Friedrich in German.
Another short moment passes. The door gives a shrill buzz. "You touch it, you buy it. Get in here."
Pushing through the door Friedrich and Billy Chines find themselves stepping backward in time. The chamber was like something out of the jungle, complete with a creeping mangrove growing out of a vaguely fluorescent pot. Flies - or what you think are flies - swarm its branches. A number of other strange reagents and materials cover the shelves, which are themselves coated in mosses and fungi.
A large troll with vines spiraling up his horns sits in the far corner, carefully working on a piece of cloth before him. The language on its surface is nothing you've seen before. He glances up at you with ancient eyes. "So. Whadya want."
Friedrich amired the Troll Shaman's workshop. It seemed like something he had heard about from Merlin's many stories of how other magic users have made a home in this cruel world. While not completely alien, Friedrich felt a certain level of calm he hadn't experienced since his time at Merlin's circle in Germany. Tomes littered shelves, and strange lettering seemed to encompass the entire shop.
Cutting straight to the chase, Friedrich took a seat near the Troll and showed an invoice for 2 spells on his commlink.
"Mein freund, I wish to acquire the necessary reagents and materials to produce these spells. I will of course need to create a magical lodge, of which, I haven't had to deal with. Your time and materials are precious, so please, tell me what I need." said the knight politely.
Billy glanced around the room, being non magic he really didn't see much of worth, but maybe if the guy had some ready to go all in one spell scrolls.... I don't suppose you have some fireball scrolls, the kind that just works without a need for magic, or some magic imbuded items that don't need a magic user to operate? Oh and any scrolls of far sight would be fantastic.
The troll waits quietly as Billy translates Friedrich's requests, and then his own. The troll hums quietly, then lifts a pipe and takes a long drag on the end of it. Purple smoke emerges from it.
"Magic is not so simple as to be inscribed on a scroll for the average man to use. I can aid you with long sight, but cannot simply give it to you. As for burning... I usually call upon the spirits of the land for such tasks. Also an impossibility for a man lacking magical talent."
He takes another long puff. "As for the armored one, I have a variety of reagents available for purchase. Even for one like yourself that does not walk with the spirits of this land, I can provide ample foci for a lodge of your own." He stands, and his imposing height towers over you. His horns scrape against hanging mosses and vines growing along the ceiling as he moves. He picks up a large crate and sets it on the counter. "This box should contain everything you need to imbue a space with your aura."
A peek inside reveals a variety of magical goodies - oils, chalks, powders, and laces. "The specifics are, of course, up to you. You will feel it as you build it; the magic will flow through you. Simply sit within and let the formulae embed themselves into your being."
He plops himself back down. "If you want the lodge starter kit, that'll be a thousand. I take cash and refined orichalcum." He turns and points at Billy. "And if you want spellcasting services, I charge by the spell."
Friedrich nods towards Billy and beings speaking in German.
"Oh sage of the green, I humble accept this to further my ends. I whole heartedly appreciate your services. Do note, these will come to good use for I am Ser Lamorak, a Knight of the Round and I am on a holy crusade!"
After giving his speech, he hands over a cred stick packed with 1,000 nuyen and begins to head towards the door.
Billy gives the info to Freddy and then asks the Shaman, ok give me a list of what you have I could use and Ill see what Ill take.
"As I've said, I can't simply give you magic. You wish to employ my services, then that can be arranged. Alternatively, I could sell you the favors of a spirit. Neither of which is cheap."
Billy mulls it over, ok the spirits, I could do with something that can hunt ahead, maybe a beast or air spirit would be useful, what do you have on offer?
"The aid of the spirits does not come cheaply, friend." The man closes his eyes, using a vision that does not require them. He sits like this for several minutes before he finally speaks.
"There are two spirits that answer my call. The rest do not wish to serve a man they do not know. A weak spirit of air, freshly manifested, can offer you a single favor. A spirit of beasts, this one growing stronger with its age, is willing to offer you two such services in its search for strength."
He breathes deeply and opens his eyes to watch you. "The spirit of air will cost you 1,000 nuyen. The spirit of beasts, however, will cost 2,500."