
Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

Gauntlet scrutinizes the shotglasses and nods. "Mm. Clever. Harder to go for weapons that way, since people usually drink with their dominant hand. Your boss is smart."

Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |

Nathaniel takes the drink in his real hand, his cybernetic one resting at his belt, just above the handgun at his thigh. "Yeah, most people do," he says nonchalantly, knocking back the shot and setting it back on the table. "Does the drink have to be full when we meet with your boss? If so, I think you'll have to hit me again." Nathaniel gives a wry grin, sliding the shot glass back to the bartender. He gives a look around innocently, not visibly paying much attention to the other patrons other than those he arrived with. "So, where are we meeting your boss? Is there a backroom or something we'll be heading to, or do they do business out here?"
Perception: 6d6 ⇒ (1, 5, 6, 6, 3, 1) = 22
Three successes.
Nathaniel is checking out other patrons to see if they're currently armed, as well as trying to pick out any hidden doors or passages.

Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

I think you guys have misread--these aren't shot glasses, they're full size, just not tall. The triple isn't just part of the code phrase, he's poured what amounts to three shots in each of your glasses. And while I'm willing to believe a troll could take that in stride, an elf--even with Body 4--does stretch the imagination some drinking all that in one go.
The bartender shrugs at Victoria. "It does if you want to meet the boss, and you came this far. Like I said, you don't gotta drink it. Just hold it." He nods at Sylvie's astute note. "Yep, there's that. It's also tradition, considered, ah, good business. Deals made over drinks tend to hold up a little longer, the way we see it." He taps the bar next to one of the glasses. "Plus, show of good faith. That's good stuff you've got. We take care of our own, and that means nobody goes without a good drink." He leans back and grabs a bottle even as one of the men down the bar turns to raise his glass. "There's a room in the back, yeah. That's where the important business is taken care of."
Glancing around, Nathaniel notices that there is indeed a doorway in one corner, somewhat concealed from view at the entrance and even up to this spot at the bar. Most of the folks in the bar look unarmed, but a lone customer at one table has a shoulder rig on--his jacket's off, so it's not too hard to notice if you're looking--and the bartender himself has a large combat knife strapped to one thigh.
At this point, Phineas, feel free to make your entrance. Expect the bartender to wave you over and offer you one of the drinks, giving you the same info he gave the others.

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

Sylvie nods. "Forgive me if I don't drink. Shows of good faith are hard to come by these days, and I tend to check to see if the gift box is ticking before I open it." She gestures towards Nathan with her thumb. "Say, for example, by letting one of my coworkers take a gulp before I drink." The massive troll shrugs. "Hey, you're not paranoid if they really are all out to get you."

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Too good to be true... a job offer... and free drinks? keep an eye open, Nicky Nick
The ex-PI smelled his drink as a true connoiseur, recognicing it as... well, alcohol. Nicholas sipped to taste it and smiled. "It sure isn't poison, that I am sure. he said to the distrustful troll
"Anyway, any more tradition we should know? Hopefully none involving us getting shot at, I expect." joked the man in the coat.

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

With Nick's... expertise, Sylvie takes a cautious sip of the whiskey, and whistles. "Damn, that's good stuff. Reminds me of the only time I go well and truly hammered." She then carefully sets the glass back down on the tabletop. "And unless I want to wake up in a dumpster full of Neil the Ork Barbarian action figures, trids, and toys again, I better go light on it, no offense. It does take a true artisan to make stuff that gets back troll metabolics, though. Where did you get this stuff?" The troll gives Victoria a curious eyebrow, but doesn't press for any more information.

Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |

Oh, whoops. Yeah, Nathaniel doesn't down the whole thing in one go if it's like a pint of whiskey. He'll still knock back a fair bit of it at once, though. I imagine he'll finish it before they go meet and ask for another, and then he'll be a bit more conservative on that one.
"I see. Can you tell me a little about your boss, then? Color me curious." Content with what he's found for now, Nathaniel leans in on the bar and takes another sip of the whiskey, whistling slightly under his breath. "I'd just like to know a little about whoever I'm doing business with, you understand? The message I got to let me know I was expected was a little... cryptic."

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Anya has two great pleasures in life: Talking and drinking. While the others engage in a bit of the former, she gets down to some of the latter.
She entered the bar thirsty, having forgone her usual wake-up ritual of Red-Dog and bourbon due to the stranger's bed, and the lack thereof was starting to make her antsy. Hence, after a preliminary sip of the water-glass-of-booze,
Kn(alochol): 5d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 3, 2, 5) = 17
she works upon it earnest, and at last licks her lips over an empty glass.
I can handle it. ;)
"Oh. Mah. Goodneth. That is some fine, fine adult beverages thou hast given unto us this day.
Ta, Nixxy, I can see you are well an' truly vexed over the great question: To imbibe or not to imbibe. Well ol' auntie Wraith is here to save you such a quandary."
Anya sets her empty glass next to Victoria's and reaches for her full one. She gives her a quick wink, "An' it'll save me the trouble of asking if they give free refills."
Anya motions blearily at Paladin's inquiry. "Oh aye! If we are drinking with friends who offer us jobs, shouldn't the friends offered the job know something of the friend offering the job? Come come, if he's as big as you say he is, shan't we have the smallest detail of him?"
For as much of an act of an already-drunk she put on, a mere three shots was just the start of a good night for her, and so long as she can keep herself from drowning this next glass right away, she'd not have more than a light buzz.
As everyone else takes only tentative sips, inwardly Anya sighs. The rest of the crowd--the shadowrunners--were playing it cool. Too cool. They never learn the best lesson.
For every spider sneaking along the flanks.
You need one dumb summabich to go up the centre.

Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

The bartender nods at Sylvie's comment. "By all means." He fills the other man's glass and returns to the runners. "Only traditions of getting shot are saved for rats and enemies of the family." He shrugs at Victoria. "As far as your age, doesn't matter, really. Only cops come around here, we got an understanding. You understand something wrong, though. We're not waiting on the boss, he's waiting on you. He's already here, you just don't go back yet."
He pulls up the bottle upon Sylvie's question and displays it. "This stuff? Old stock." He points out the label, which indicates it came from Ireland--back when it still had that name. "I guess you finish a glass, I pour you another before you go in, but don't go too heavy on us, huh? I just put over a hundred nuyen a pop in your glasses."
- - - - -
And here's where I realize I missed responding to Phineas after his last post, my deepest apologies, sir. They say the memory's the first thing to go, right after the memory.
The vested man shakes his head, his face taking on a pouty feigned sadness. "Sorry, boyo, but it's pub rules. People come here for a quiet drink and peace from the trials and tribulations of the outside world. We provide a safe space, and that means from magic eyes, too." He waves his hand at the spirit. "If you're the one who summoned it, you can dismiss it now; if not, I'm afraid you'll have to wait 'til it fades away 'fore I can let you in."

Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |

As the others talk, Nathaniel finishes off his own glass of whiskey and slides it towards the bartender. "Actual Irish whiskey? I've only seen that once before, and that was at a board--" he begins, before cutting his sentence short. "I promise I won't knock back another before I meet with the boss," he says instead, motioning to the empty glass. "I'm guessing we're waiting on the elf from the Shack, then... Phineas Madigan. I never did get a chance to look into him before we started this mess. I guess now's my chance."

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

Sylvie looks at the glass with wonderment. "Daaaaamn. I don't know what we did to make your boss happy, but I, for one, am glad that we did." She takes a more moderate sip from the glass.

Phineas Madigan |

Phineas' previously good-natured manner drains from his face and he looks ready to yell at the man for a moment. It passes and he just sighs and shrugs, Look, I'm trying to work with you here, yeah? I'm not sending him away. And frankly, me asking to let him stay outside was a courtesy. Now...I'm sure we can work something out here. You don't want him snooping around your perch and I'm not walking into a shady bar that's starting to get shadier, without some assurance.
After a short whispered discussion with the man Phineas' expression breaks out into a smile again, Aw khed...why didn't you just say that, chummer? The elf chuckles and waves his hand. Yeah, yeah. No worries. He won't be anywhere near you. You townies always gotta complicate everything.
Stay across the street and as out of sight as you can manage.
---
Phineas pushes open the door and hesitates for a moment as he looks about the room. He takes the old beat up Red Sox cap off his head and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans while he makes his way to the bar. Funny seeing you all again, he says, as he walks up. The elf nods to the bartender past the group, Hey bud, I'll take a triple whiskey with an e, if ya don't mind. Pushing his glasses further up his nose Phineas finds a spot to lean up against the bar, So...how was everyone's morning?
What...exactly...have I gotten myself into?

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

Sylvie takes a look at Phineas and arches an eyebrow. "It wasn't filled with explosions and mysterious women, so that's something." She takes another sip of the whiskey.

Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

The bartender looks at Phineas and nods. "Yeah, yeah, it's already poured for you, kid." He slides the glass over and hooks a thumb at the back doorway. "And now you're here, you can go in to see the boss. Take your drinks, and be polite. Mick'll let you in." He tops off anyone who needs a little more whiskey--only pouring maybe a shot and a half this time--and sends you off.
The doorway leads to a smaller dining room with another exit, this one guarded by a man in a garish green suit. He takes a quick look at your group and the drinks in hand, and reaches out to open the door, wordlessly ushering you through. The room beyond is apparently a private dining and conference room, decorated much the same as the rest of the pub, but noticeably higher in quality. There are a few paintings on the walls, landscapes of rolling green hills and cliffs overlooking the sea. In the center of the room is a fine wooden table with a dozen chairs around it.
Seated at the far end are two figures. One, you recognize: the elf woman from the night before is sitting near the head of the table, her baby currently asleep in her arms. She gives the group a wide smile as they enter. Beside her is an older-looking elf, dressed in a sharp suit and his hair neatly combed back from his face. He gestures for you to sit and waits until everyone has before leaning forward and clasping his hands. "It's my understanding that you saved my daughter here from a nasty incident, last night. You probably didn't know who she was at the time, and that makes you all the more upstanding citizens to whom I'd like to extend my deepest thanks." He smiles, and although it looks genuine, it also has the sense of a predator about it.
"My name is Donald Muldoon. The last name probably means more than the first, but rest assured I'm a man of no small means. So my gratitude comes first in terms of whiskey, which I see you're already enjoying, and secondly, in more solid terms." He slowly reaches down and lifts up a briefcase, which he clicks open and pushes forward. "Inside are bonds for each of you. Enough that the six of you can take them to a bank and receive thirty-thousand nuyen each." He opens his hands as if to say Please, go ahead. "If you prefer direct payment, I can accommodate that as well. And there's more compensation if you're interested in work. I think I have the means to provide rewards of interest to any or all of you."

Victoria "Nix" Bateson |

Victoria picks up the glass in one hand and her father's, her, briefcase in the other and walks with the group in to the back room "Time to meet this mysterious boss." She gives the guard a once over, giving him a small polite nod before they enter. "He stands out like a sore thumb. But that's a bodyguard's job most of the time..."
At the sight of the familiar young woman, she gives another polite nod and tries to smile, but it doesn't really look natural on her face. "A mob girlfriend perhaps?" She takes her seat and sits back, eyeing the unknown man. "Ah, a family member, that makes sense." She's respectfully silent as he explains himself, never taking her eyes off him. "Bonds are fine." She makes a mental note to check of SIN to make sure that no one will ask questions at the bank. Or maybe she should just have one of the others cash the bonds and they can split it later. "What kind of work are we talking about?"
Intuition: 5d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 3, 1, 1) = 9

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

As the massive troll walks into the room, the astute among the runners will notice some minute changes in her deameanor. She straightens slightly, adjusts her tie, and gives a cool nod to the bodyguard as she walks in. Gone is the casual friendliness that Gauntlet had displayed before, replaced by an air of cool professionalism that's acquired by most runners after a few times on the job. Clearly, Gauntlet saw that as soon as she walked into the room, she was punching in her card, so to speak.
At Muldoon's introduction, Gauntlet nods. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Muldoon. I assume no introductions are necessary, as your boys were already diligent enough to get our contact information." She takes a purposeful sip from the whiskey. "My thanks for the whiskey. It's not often I can get a good buzz off of a single drink. Pardon me if I decline to sit, however, I wouldn't want to add to the debt I'm incurring just by looking at this beverage by breaking your furniture." She gives a small, wry smile at her joke, then takes another sip of the whiskey. "Bonds are perfectly fine, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Muldoon. As my colleague here said, what kind of work are you looking for?"

Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |

"That explains how you found us; I'm a hard man to track on the Matrix, but with resources like your's..." Nathaniel's voice trails off, returning the man's smile with a matching one, predatory glint included, but subdued. "If you went through the trouble of tracking me down, then you know who I am... and why I saved your daughter." Nathaniel, seeing the chairs, pulls one out and sits across from the other elf as he sets the whiskey on a coaster in front of him. He listens to the others ask about the work and nods along, but instead asks a different question. "Mr. Muldoon, would this work have anything to do with figuring out who tried to abduct your daughter last night? I'm sure you know that isn't exactly my... area of expertise, but it hardly felt like a hit by a rival mob. The attackers weren't mobsters, they were hired guns by a third party; the mage they brought along was the one calling the shots, but he died on scene." He takes another sip of the drink, sighing with content as he feels the slight burn of the vintage whiskey. "We questioned one of the attackers after he was subdued, apparently he got hired for the attack at the Lumen. Two of our own checked it out... I wasn't there, but evidently a couple people in robes similar to the mage were there not too long before they got hired. That wouldn't happen to mean anything to you, would it?"
Intuition: 3d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 2) = 11

Phineas Madigan |

Phineas takes his drink off the bar, sips it, and blinks and shakes his head. Expensive. Shaking his had again he waves to the door indicated, Well...shall we?
---
Default to Intuition: 4d6 ⇒ (6, 6, 4, 2) = 18 2 Successes
Unless Area Knowledge (Boston) is appropriate. Edit: Made it anyway.
Letting the others lead the way, the elf pauses at the door near the bodyguard looking him up and down. With a nod, a smile, and a salute of his drink, he enters the room. Phineas admires the decor before finding a seat. His smile grows wider as he sees the woman and he nods across the room. The elf pushes his glasses further up his nose as he waits for the man to speak.
Assensing: 8d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 6, 2, 5, 6, 6, 2) = 30 4 Successes
Assuming that people at least passingly familiar with assensing realize it's not actual spellcasting.
I knew the name Brennan Muldoon was familiar. Daughter. Okay. Thirty-thousand nuyen. Okay. A job? What the heck is going on?
An amused and curious frown overtakes Phineas' face as the others begin speaking. The elf leans back in his chair following the conversation around the table. Seems these people are all intent on doing the talking. Might as well let them.

Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

Muldoon nods at Sylvie and Nathaniel. "Yes, I took the liberty of doing a little research on each of you when my men got a hold of the security feed--what we could piece together, anyway. Some of you were harder to find than others, and none of you quite as simple as your average Joe, which led me to believe I would be very right to contact you." He chuckles at Sylvie's comment on the chairs and nods again. "I appreciate the forethought. I think you'll find the chair at the end there is reinforced enough to fit someone of your... capacity." He smiles, showing no slight was intended, more a comment on the nature of trolls and their strength.
Once everyone's seated and taken a look at the bonds, the man leans back and clasps his hands together on the table, apparently thinking for a moment before responding to the questions. "As far as the work... Well, your friend here has it right, at least to some extent. I'm sure most of you are aware that when someone tries to do a hit on someone like my daughter, it's no small business. And you can bet your asses I'm gonna hunt down the bastards tried to kill my little girl."
"Dad," the young woman says, and Muldoon raises his hands. "I know, I know. Overprotective, have to let you make your own way. But you're still my daughter, and family comes first." He turns back to the group and cocks his head as Nathaniel shares some of the information the runners have already learned.
"You're right that it didn't feel like a mob hit, but a suit doing the hiring at the Lumen? I dunno about guys in robes, but this whole thing stinks of the Morellis. Probably hired some gangbangers so it wouldn't look like them, but I know a rat when I smell one." He taps a finger on the table for emphasis. "Listen, you folks seem like you got good heads, and enough skills to keep my daughter safe in a shootout. How'd you like to help clean up gangland here, take a scumbag off the streets, make a little cash and maybe a favor while you do it?"

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

Sylvie graciously takes a seat, and nods along as Muldoon outlines his plans. "You know, normally, at this point, I'd thank you and just take the bonds and run. But whoever tried to kill your daughter needs to be taken out on principle. Somebody who's willing to allow that much collateral damage on a job and try to pick a fight with the Muldoon family is crazy enough to be very, very dangerous. Also, no offense, but I got my own hide to think about. I have enough enemies without having to also worry about this crazy f#!@er holding a grudge because I protected your kid. So, sure. Count me in."

Victoria "Nix" Bateson |

Victoria makes a note to check to make sure her digital trail is still covered. She really needs to make sure that footage of her fighting doesn't start making rounds on the net. "Favors are always useful, and I could use a foot in the door if someone needs more work done. And whoever put out a hit on your daughter is clearly crazy, so I don't have any particular issue with seeing him in to an early grave."

Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

Bah, my mistake, Phineas. Apologies once more.
If you want exact Essence I suppose I can give that to you, but suffice to say he looks to have a smattering of cyber and bio in him, and obviously his Magic is 0.
Muldoon chuckles at Sylvie's first comment. "Given my understanding of your line of work, I can see why you'd do that. But I'm glad that you follow my thinking. It is a matter of principle. Precisely that."

Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |

"I have one request before I take the job; whatever copies of the security footage you found, destroy them. The fewer copies of that footage that can potentially float around the Matrix, the better. Do we have a deal on that?" Nathaniel's face seems visibly paler when he mentions the footage, almost as if he's going to be sick. His hands are beneath the table, but both of them curl tightly into fists as he grips the fabric of his pants. "I have my reasons for that, just trust me."

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Isn't it curious, Nicky Nick? A cop working for the mafia... no, wait, that's pretty much average, boyo.
Nick was holding himself the whole time, analyzing the situation. He didn't think they were in danger, but in the past he did try to stop these families from reigning the city. It is true that the Muldoon were pretty soft, good fellas even, if you compared them to others...
"Mister Muldoon, I understand that you know who I am from what you said, ain't it pal?" said the exPI while meditating internally "Let me correct it: who I was. I helped your daughter because that's what any redblooded boyo should do, and don't get me wrong but... Ah, drekk it. I'm in. I left the corps so damn much time ago, should have made my mind already." he blurt before lighting a lho-stick.
Way to go, Nicholas, words are your slaves hahaha! From blue to hound to shadow. Working for the Family to boot! Mama was right: Ain't no Smith boy who's up to no good..."
"Plus Gauntlet's right: whoever ordered that fragging hit on your daughter is a nutjob who needs some geekin'. Anyway, I hope my past doesn't stop you from trusting me, pal, I did like the irish juice and would love to taste more before I eventually bite it."
Also, Street Kn. Regarding the Muldoon as the rest did, but also wanna know bout the Morellis.
Street Knowledge: 7d6 ⇒ (5, 4, 4, 2, 3, 1, 1) = 20
Look at that! Ain't it a big pile o' drekk?

Phineas Madigan |

Phineas' gaze continues around the room, remaining silent and still as the other speak. The elf only moves his eyes behind the plain black rims of his glasses, lingering on Sylvie for more than a moment.
Assensing Sylvie: 8d6 ⇒ (6, 6, 1, 4, 6, 1, 1, 6) = 31 4 Successes
What am I doing here with these people?

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

You get +2 to your dice pool, since Sylvie has Astral Beacon.
Should I describe this, Loup, or should you?

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Anya was content to sit and smile and listen politely to the conversation. She didn't have anything overly philosophical to add, and the most basic of the questions were getting out and were answered.
As the woman seems to take the slightest umbrudge at her father's "over-protection" Anya reaches a hand across the table and pats the woman's arm. "Null persp, chummer. You got a good daddy there. Honey, this ain't no random banger bumping into you and demanding your grocery money by brandishing his momma's good cuttin' knife. Your daddy ain't hiring bad men to go beat hell outa' some sixteen year old who don't know what he done.
Men come after you? They were put there by a hand. A hand that spent time an' effort an' blew up a building to get to you an' your'n.
Won't stop 'till someone stops them, yeah? Just relax an' know your daddy loves you very much."
She ends with a smile. Taking up her glass, she turns back to Mister Muldoon. "Iz'all good, good sir. I'll slap a guy for cred. Say a name, say a price, body gonna hit a floor.
You need any trophies, any keepsakes?"
She sips her drink. Cred, drink, work. Smiles.

Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

Actually, Sylvie, I'd love to see you go ahead and describe your own aura. I've a feeling you'll do it more justice than I might.
Muldoon nods at the suggestion of destroying the footage. "Of course. All we had was you folks walking into the store, understand, it cut off about when the bomb went off from what I saw. But even so, I'll see if we can't have it wiped from the digital record. Discretion is key in this business, after all."
He turns to Nick and nods. "I know a little about each of you, yes. Not life stories, mind, and I don't need to know that. Just enough to know who and what I'm dealing with. Some of you already work the shadows, or deal with them in some way, but I'm not really asking the rest of you to join them. Of course, there's plenty of reward to be found if you're willing to work for the right people." He shrugs and folds his hand again. "I've asked you six down here because I felt that you'd be useful hands for a job like this. If the Morellis want to hire outside help, I've got no problem doing the same. And all I care about your pasts is that they've given you skills and mindsets I thought I could use. Maybe that sounds harsh, but we're talking about crime, not schoolyard antics. I can offer you some jobs, some information, and if you like, the opportunity to meet, shall we say, new and interesting people." He grins.
When Anya speaks to the younger woman, though, Donald Muldoon openly laughs, leaning back before hunching forward, a fist coming to his mouth to try and choke back the laughter. The woman frowns, mostly at her father's antics, and shakes her head as he finishes up. "Oh, she knows all about the seriousness of the matter," the man says, wiping his eyes. "That's why she'll be briefing you on the job." He stands up and quickly chokes back another chuckle. "Becca, dear, I'll take young Shane if you want to finish up with these lovely people."
"Of course, dad," she says, standing as well. She passes the still sleeping infant to her father, who leaves the room after nodding to the group once more. With a sigh, she brushes a stray lock of hair from her face and claps her hands together. "Well, I guess introductions are in order? As I understand it you didn't all know each other before we met last night, and if your night was anything like mine, or as busy as you say, I'm guessing you didn't have time for all the niceties. And I'd like to introduce myself as well." On the whole, the woman seems a good deal more composed than she was last night--but then, she wasn't just thrown into Stuffer Shack products by her exploding car.
"I'm Rebecca Muldoon, you've met my father so I guess you understand a little about my place. And I suppose, to use the slang, I'm your Mrs. Johnson for this job, if you want to look at it that way." She gives a cheery little smile. "Why don't you introduce yourselves to one another? Get to know the team if you're in. And I do hope you are."

Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite |

As you temporarily dip your senses into the Astral to catch a glimpse of Gauntlet's aura, you feel as if you have just stumbled out of a pitch-dark room into the noonday sun. After the initial flare fades, it's clear that whoever this troll is, she has more raw mojo at her disposal than even you. A brilliant nimbus of crackling white and black light surrounds the troll, shifting and stirring as if it's a living being. The light flows and coalesces around her fists, becoming an angry, pulsating crimson that burns a few stray wisps of mana to a crisp, for lack of a better metaphysical term. Tendrils of gently glowing green energy emanate from her bloated abdomen and wrap around her entire form, gently caressing massive biceps and powerful tendons, concealed beneath layers of fat in the physical world. In the center of her stomach, and where all of the viridian energy seems to be coming from, lies the hazy, vague form of a hibernating bear. A soft pink glow pulses slowly, but steadily, in her chest, and you can see dizzying flashes of shadowed figures acting out romantic scenes within it. The bear seems to shift in its sleep just before you pull yourself out of the Astral.
The Astral Beacon flaw says that Sylvie's aura is incredibly memorable and strong, and very easy to identify. I think the above description left enough of an impression.
A low rumble growls menacingly from Gauntlet's stomach as Mrs. Muldoon makes her introduction. She absentmindedly rubs it as she speaks. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Johnson-although it tends to rob somewhat from the anonymity of the title when you introduce yourself by your real name first. For those of you who haven't yet caught my name, I'm Gauntlet. I'm an adept, a hand-to-hand specialist, though I can still shoot a piece when I need to."

Victoria "Nix" Bateson |

Victoria's eyes narrow slightly as Muldoon keeps talking. "Definitely need to check to make sure my tracks are still covered. He probably just found my fake SIN, but better safe than sorry." She fights the urge to roll her eyes at the rest of his little speech. "Like I care if what I'm going to be doing is illegal. Father didn't falter when there was work to be done, and neither will I."
She can't fight down a little smirk as Rebecca identifies herself as the 'Johnson' for their job. "Oh, I think I like her." She looks around the table, waiting expectantly for someone to start. She nods absently at Gauntlet's introduction, but her eyes are sharp and focused on the troll. "I think most of you got my name at the apartment last night, but for anyone who didn't, you can call me Nyx. Stealth, infiltration, espionage, and assassination. I'm trained in hand to hand and firearms, as well as how to bypass security systems both old school and electronic."

Phineas Madigan |

Phineas stays quiet for quite some time but finally sits forward. With all due respect, I'm not entirely sure why I'm here. Especially if you know who I am already. The elf shrugs and flashes a disarming smile, Not that I don't need the money. I certainly do. But I ain't never been bagged, and I'm not sure my Ma'd be happy with me doing this kind of work. He leans back again, Then again, I could really use the money. With a wave of his hand and a shrug, Phineas asks questioningly, Fact remains...I'm still not sure why I'm here. What made you think I could help? I know a bit of magic, but I've got no experience with this sort of thing. Normally, I see something shiesty, I book it. Bang a U-ie and I'm out of there.
Phineas frowns, but his tone is more curious than anything, I'm thinking you might have me confused with someone else. But, that said, I certainly appreciate the offer. Just not sure how I can help.

Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |

"I should be able to handle clearing out the video from other archives, including anything from Knight Errant... but I'd rather not go digging through your files. I feel like that'd be a bad start." Nathaniel's work suggest a joke, but his tone seems too serious. "Either way, if you can get rid of your copy, you can count me in... at least for now." He listens as Rebecca introduces herself and urges the others to do the same. After a few seconds of silence, he sighs. "Call me... Paladin," he says, the words feeling awkward in his mouth. "I'm focused primarily on close-range combat and fire support, as well as handling Matrix security when the need arises. I'm also trained in provided medical attention in combat scenarios, as well as the repair of armor and weaponry in addition to cybernetics... Oh, and I've received formal training in military-grade demolitions skills, along with field experience leading fireteams, although I'm not sure that'll be necessary," Nathaniel says, without taking a breath. Despite his laid back attitude outside at the bar, there's something about Nathaniel that always makes him seem slightly on-edge, a rigidness with which he carries himself that would have lent itself well to military service.
"I have a lot of talents," he adds, nonchalantly, before turning his head to listen to Phineas.

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Nicholas inhales deeply brom his cigarette "Name's Nick." he says as he exhales the smoke "Sergeant Nicholas Smith, or former Sergeant. You boyos can call me Sarge."
"You go, man, tell them your SIN number too..."
"I am no strange to gunfights, can make a chummer tell us what he took for breakfast he wants it or not. I can also smell problems from a mile away but am not usually smart enough to dive outta way... or maybe I like to push my bad luck to the limit." he says, barely containing a smile as it seems everybody is giving his CV for a job interview. "And gotta couple good friends, wearing the blue and out in the streets... they may know if the Morellis are cooking up anything."
The exPi finishes his whiskey before adding "And Mama Smith blessed me with perfect memory, that's my only talent outside being a stubborn bloodhound."

Phineas Madigan |

I realized I might as well do this now.
Assensing Sarge: 8d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 4, 6, 1, 6, 4, 2) = 30 3 Successes
Assensing Nathaniel: 8d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 6, 2, 1, 1, 5, 6) = 30 4 Successes
Assensing Wraith: 8d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 5, 2, 3, 1, 5, 5) = 26 3 Successes
Assensing Nyx: 8d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 3, 4, 5, 5, 2, 5) = 31 4 Successes
Phineas continues to watch the others as they continue. Since giving his own speech he sat back to continue to quietly watch each member of the group speak in turn. Simply following the conversation with his eyes behind his plain black rimmed glasses.

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Ooo! Could we all write our own Assensing results? =}
As you stare in the direction of the one named WhiteAngel, you get a sense of staring into the infinite black of the night sky, accented with only a few dying stars. So, too, a phrase long-forgotten rushes to your mind's eye: "And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee."

Victoria "Nix" Bateson |


Nathaniel Kenson; "Paladin" |


Friendly Neighborhood Fixer |

Rebecca listens in to the introductions, nodding as she hears that some were taken care of the night before. When Phineas raises the question of his presence, though, she takes a seat and pulls a device from her pocket, apparently tapping and scrolling to find some information.
"Don't sell yourself short, Mister--well, I'll let you pick the name. Doesn't get you very far in this business." She smiles and appears to read some snippets of info off her screen. "Harvard boy, legacy, athlete, but then you swap to theology and magic theory. Apparently burn some bridges. Looks like you almost went off the map not so long ago, no mention by family or even former friends, for the most part." She looks up. "That doesn't sound like your average Ivy Leaguer, even for someone who's Awakened. It sounds like someone who's desperate and isn't sure where to go to find what they're looking for. Which sounds like the kind of person we can help. The business can help."
She slides the device back in her pocket and leans forward. "The long and short of it is that you're here for the same reason everyone else is. You all have skills and mindsets that lend themselves to helping us. The fact you all were willing to spring into action and save my son and me last night certainly didn't go unnoticed. And as for you in particular," she says, returning her gaze to Phineas, "Rory tells me the spirit that followed me home last night certainly required more than a 'bit of magic' to conjure up." She smiles again. "Like I said--skills and mindset.
Thank you again for your help." This is again addressed to the whole room, and she swallows in pause. "I am... very grateful for what you did. I probably wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for the six of you. And that will not be forgotten." She turns her smiling gaze back to Wraith. "I think it certainly warrants a drink or two on my account. You can get a refill from the bar once we've got the job in order."