Thanks for info, GM.
So ¥500 for vehicle Spoof Chip.
How much for wireless devices to change ownership?
Am I paying for Extended Hardware + Logic [Mental] (24, 1 hour) test
or
Am I paying for an Edit File matrix test for some sort?
Pg237
"Changing ownership of a file is somewhat easier. Your best bet is to use Edit File to copy it (the copy’s owner is you) and then delete the original, again with the Edit File action."
How much for either method?
I have a contact for vehicles or Maybe Al can help a gun bunny out?
(We have a tool kit).
Lastly, before I really am going off for the weekend (and out of internet contact),
Do you need the details for skill training during our 9 weeks downtime?
Are we role-playing it out or hand waving it?
Okay so how much cash did we get away with. I havent seen it all posted. Because I literally wont be able to make it 8 weeks without like 4k.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Edit File action is for files, data, that kind of thing.
Hardware + Logic is for Devices. Commlinks, smartguns, goggles, cars, that kind of thing. Anything that has a wireless functionality is covered under those rules.
For the cars, consider it a flat 10% of the vehicle's cost, which you can negotiate +/- 1% on a Negotiations + Charisma (+ Loyalty if using a Contact) Test.
For gear like guns and the like, figure the Cutters can do it for ¥100 per item this time, or they will waive the fee if you fence your loot through them.
Hmmm, I guess I dont see the difference between data on a device and data in vehicle chip but I'm afraid to open a can of matrix worms. ;P
So ¥500 for Spoof Chip and ¥850 flat fee.
If we are skipping to contacts, here is my roll:
( 1 hit)
Or if you'll allow the charmer Murphy do his negotiation magic then I'll use his roll.
@Cavan,
With a standard 25% sell cost, we are looking at about ~16k each for gear loot. If you negotiate a different price, I can update the excel file and post it.
@GM,
Last question, then back to the role playing,
How do you want to handle spending karma on skills:
Role play or hand wave? (I know the rules for advancing a PC, just want to know how to handle it).
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We can skip so long as you have an explanation for how you acquire the skill.
Certain things will require instruction, which will necessitate finding the appropriate teachers or self-help trids. Advancing existing skills is A-ok, as is advancing statistics.
Initiation & Submersion will require you to at least explain just how you do so - most of them can be achieved on your own, so long as you're not learning entirely new skills/abilities which cannot be learned by self-practice.
Ok, let me as you this then:
Kerrah wanted to learn Unarmed Combat and Escape Artist.
I figured she would join a gym to get the basic instruction?
If this is not acceptable, she could have her Mentor spirit train her as it is the spirit of Dragonslaying.
I imagine the Dragonslaying spirit is something like the Watcher/Slayer relationship of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'.
He would come in dreams and when she is alone and drive her to learn new skills.
Or I am happy to have you pick something more appropriate.
Just didn't want to break out of the role-playing immersion too much.
(I know too late).
(1 hit)
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Kerrah: over the next few weeks, flashes of aggression and a visceral desire to punch people pop in your mind. Your dreams Are constantly of battle and struggle, picking fights with larger opponents and either taking them down or running away after a sicker punch strike.
This bleeds into the real world on a fee occasions, where a happenstance encounter triggers an overly violent fist to the face from Kerrah. More than once, she snap-jabs a half-drunk Barrens dweller in the face at a makeshift bar, only to have to light out the back door a couple of steps ahead of his pals. While disconcerting, Kerrah doesn't pay much mind to the mood changes, putting it down to adrenaline and the success from her last job.
Finally, after a particularly crude pickup line results in another bottom dweller laid out on the dirty floor, Kerrah feels a subconscious sort of chuckle and an aura of satisfaction. The overly violent thoughts begin to subside, but her fists and feet feel ready to be used as weapons, tools of battle for real.
"Paranoid jacka$$...glad we got you alive."
Self-reflection was not Al's strong suit.
(3 hits)
After exchanging commlink connection information with the Cutters lieutenant, Hawatari makes sure she has Al's, then offers to exchange information with 'Bobbi' and 'Murphy'. Successful or not, she splits the nine thousand with Al, then - if Al agrees - the ten-kay bonus four ways with the other pair before nodding farewell and footing it back over to Touristville, which isn't all that far away - a matter of a few miles, and though she's tired by the end of it, it's ... good to get things done the way you feel they need to be done.
In the weeks that follow, she'll keep working on Matrix searches - about the explosion at her (now former) home, about females meeting a very specific set of parameters of appearance ...
Lily, where are you??
'Bobbi' oversees the transaction with the Cutters as her and her makeshift team sorts through the gear.
She thanks everyone involved and takes down everyone's contacts who offer.
After some time, when the vehicles are 'fixed'' and nuyen is dived up, she drives off on her new bike and like the wind, she is gone into the Seattle cityscape.
Her Dragonslyer spirit has been quiet after a few run ins with local 'douches' and groping guys at the clubs.
Kerrah misses the voice of the spirit mentor who has befriended her. Maybe voice is the wrong description, more a sense of belonging and companionship that is ever present in her mind.
She feels she has learned a new lesson and feels better able to fight and escape if the need arises.
While waiting on her fixer, she keeps busy buying various pleasantries for her squalor of a home. She bides her time window shopping, clubbing, and dining out, getting familiar with the ins and outs of her local neighborhood.
She shops around until she finds a wig that is wirelessly enabled with a node so that she can change the color and style on a whim.
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February and March pass as they typically do in Seattle. Cold slushy rain turns to slightly warmer rain, the mud of the streets fading from salt-singed grey to standard polluted dirt and filth.
The last of winter leaves the 'plex in a whipping swirl of cold wind and unpleasentness, while spring seems just around the corner. You've spent a good chunk of your last payday on rent, new toys, and the like. The winter stir craziness has begun to subside, and people are moving about the streets a bit more than they had been.
On the night of April 13th, a Monday, Ahlwin receives a call from Eddie Rogers, his Councilman/Fixer.
"Al, buddy, long time no talk, amiright? How's it going, pal? You up for some work, fairly open timeframe, kinda limited on the deets for the moment. All I know is it's local, it'll need some 'trix skills, and you'll need some decent muscle to watch your hoop. If you've got a crew, lemme know, or I can make some calls to pull in some heavies and maybe a mojo-girl or something. Whatdya say, Al?"
Eddie is just as obnoxiously chipper and upbeat as ever, with his last-season high-fashion suit, high-gloss tooth veneers, ¥150 haircut and obvious novacoke eyeshine. Hey, at least this time he's fronting you SOME intel, even as limited as it is.
Al didn't have to discreetly wander towards the stockroom when jobs came up anymore. Getting the kid a scooter was 150% a good play; didn't have to sleep over nearly as much after work...didn't need to worry too much about work and work colliding. Bonus - her mom was equal parts elated and pissed it wasn't enclosed and bulletproof. Best outcome."
Still, Al learned not to prep food and talk with Mr. Rogers at the same time. Not after the left leg...
"Those 'deets' make pay a sliding scale until they're less mysterious. I know some people. They're effective. What's the time & place?"
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"Yeah, yeah, man, I'm sure they got all kinds a info fer ya. Just didn't tell me much, ya know? 'Get a crew, send em my way.' Jus' like that, no respect fer my talents, amiright?"
Eddie sniffs constantly, rubbing the side of his nose as he speaks.
"But yeah, man, Johnson is lookin' ta sit down at the Phoenix House, some sushi-fusion place. Tomorrow night, 1900. I'd wear somethin' kinda flash, and leave the hardware home, the Yaks ain't gonna take kindly ta runners showin' up kitted for bandersnatch hunts, ya know?"
Area Knowledge: Seattle, Bars/Restaurants, or Organized Crime/Syndicates/Etc. may be used to see what you know, as could standard matrix searches, depending on what you're asking.
"I'll respect you a whole lot more..."
No he won't.
"...when you stop giving me a contact high from 20 miles away."
"But your constituents love it. So lets just keep being good at our jobs, Mr. Rogers."
(5 hits)
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"Yeah, yeah, man, I get you. You do you, I'll do me, we'll make some cred amiright? Cool, man, let me know if you need anything in the meantime, chummer."
The Redmond Phoenix House is a relatively upscale sushi restaurant in Touristville. It used to be an absolute dive, a robo-conveyor automat style dump, but was revived like its namesake about 10-12 years ago with a major influx of cash. Reputedly a hangout and front for the Yakuza, it has also garnered a reputation for both good sushi (especially for Redmond) and a good spot for clandestine meetings.
No particular names of organizations seem tied to the restaurant, the current owner is listed as one B.D. Wong, a Japanese-American human man, who has some ties to the local Redmond government. The restaurant manager is a woman called Samantha Kyoki, a rather attractive (judging by her press-bio on the restaurant's splash page) human in her early 30's.
Gangs stay away from the place, and all the press images you garner of the outside show a clean, well-lit building with polarized windows and a very subtle chic signage.
Classy and destitute places always carry the chance of getting murdered. That's why Al preferred his cafe's middling ambiguity. Nobody leaves even gassy.
Ahlwin groans - both as his muscles are re-stimulated and as he sends a curt message to Hawatari and the explorers guild. He links whatever information he found to give them an idea of the dark thin ice they'll be running across.
Psst:
Hey Al, send me and Murphy a message and we will join your crew.
Psst:
Hey Al, send me and Murphy a message and we will join your crew.
Cavan rolls over and checks his messages.
Great, but I'll need some work to keep this up.
The elf hobbles into the shower, using his magic he gives himself a shave and trims his hair to where he needs it. Toweling himself off, he wanders over to the closet and reaches towards the back and pulls out a brand new tailored suit. Something to meet a Johnson in.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Nine weeks. Nine weeks it's been, without hide nor hair (well, of the ectoplasmic variety) or any other sort of sign of where Lily might be. Quiet calls to Julie Sanchez, asking for a moment of The Boss's time, bore fruit of a sort - she'd said that Lily still existed, which was kind of a relief, but that she was bound.
How the hell? Everything I know about ... Suki groaned, and flopped backwards onto the craptastic doss's craptastic bed. It hurt just to think about some of this crud. Staring at the ceiling for a good half hour, letting the pounding in her head subside, she finally mumbles, "Gotta be a custom job. Someone who knew her ... someone who knew us." And that was a list, but not an infinite list, right?
Did I piss off Goldsnout ... well, I mean, anything I haven't apologized for?
She groaned, and buried her face in the barely-there pillow. It still hurt to think.
At least she didn't have to worry about identity; the kludgy little Blue Defender dredged up all it could about the explosion, and kept them filed. EVO's public relations outlet had eventually stated to KSAF that 'the body found in the townhome is that of its assigned resident', which meant that as far as most of the rest of the world believed, she was dead. Of course, she doubted that her EVO SIN was flagged 'deceased', because reversing that was a cast-iron, which meant it probably had a 'pending' tag.
And a 'pending' tag meant ... that anyone who could wrangle access and who had a reason to look would suspect she was still alive and kicking somewhere.
Well, at least the people who knew she was herself wouldn't sell her out. And the people who WOULD sell her out didn't know they could, or who was buying. Of course, she didn't know who was buying, which made for all sorts of problems, too.
In the weeks that followed what she was labelling in her head 'the little churchmice job,' she spent a lot of time 'downstairs' in Touristville - walking the streets, stopping in at the various bars, wearing the 'good' set of clothes and taking a couple meals at the better locations. She knew she was surrounded by the syndicates, so she kept her mouth shut (or at least didn't say anything offensive), her eyes and ears open, and started pushing her magic-fried brain into developing the sort of mental lists and scorecards she'd kept as a matter of long-made-unconscious habits. Vory was that one, and that one Mafia, that one Yakuza. Getting the gang scorecard lined up even as vaguely as she was managing it was the worst - there were, after all, so damn many of them.
Most of the time, at 4 AM she found herself flat on her back in the secure little bolthole, nursing a headache. But at least it was getting ... less bad, as time went on. Maybe that was a good thing.
She's just getting ready to go out on that Monday night when the Blue Defender bleeps a tone through the skinlink, one only she can hear. Looking at the message, she hesitates - did she really want to work with amateurs again? - but the friendly little blue-green glow in the lower-left-hand-corner, her balance sheet, argued that beggers can't be choosers, and if she doesn't take a job soon, 'begging' is going to be only one step below where she'll be.
She considers what she knows about the place, what Al has sent ...
... and wonders if perhaps a certain courtesy might be requested - one Japanese woman to another, so to speak ...
She gets dressed in a skirt, shirt, and blazer, wearing the (unfortunately not as subtle as she'd like) armored jacket and katana, and carrying the armored overcoat with its chemical liner. You could always get away with that in Seattle - acid rain was, after all, a Serious Thing here.
And she heads down to the Phoenix House.
: 5 hits!! Clearly I just had dinner there last night!! :P
Heading down there in order to ask to talk to Ms. Kyoki. The plan is to request permission for herself and three others to 'coat check' some basic gear (such as heavy pistols), if not be permitted to carry 'appropriate' items (i.e. the katana) in with them. Well, herself, anyhow.
Useful Rolls, if you want to do it on quick rolls and we can get to the meet itself:
: 4 hits
: 3 hits
Hawatari will offer a 'good-will donation' of up to 400¥ (100¥ per person) for the courtesy, as well as a personal pledge of good faith, that she'll act to keep her own people under control should they threaten to act to the detriment of the house. (It's a 'corporate samurai' thing ...)
Kerrah picks up her cracked and well decorated comm and sees Al has called with a potential job.
Not much details but last run with Al was a success. Hopefully our luck will hold out long enough to get established, Kerrah thinks.
What do I remember about the meet location, she reminisces.
(2 hits)
(2 hits)
Kerrah gets out her latest new outfit, considering what she should wear and readies her self for the meet.
(5 hits)
She heads out when the time is right, carrying with her only the Walther Palm pistol.
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@Hawatari: The Redmond Phoenix House is one of the typical meeting areas for the Shotozumi-Gumi of the Seattle Yakuza "families." You are well aware of their reputation for abiding by the traditional Japanese "ignore it, don't directly view it, and it never happened as far as I will admit" style. You know any overt weaponry or direct actions will be met with overwhelming force (or polite but direct refusal of service), but concealed gear and subtle activites will be specifically ignored. Very discrete "donations" and "gratuities" will afford you even greater leeway as to actions or equipment.
As far as the Shotozumi-Gumi itself, they are a traditional branch of the syndicate, led by Hanzo Shotozumi, a middle-aged human male of direct Japanese/UCAS lineage. His second-in-command (at least unofficially) is his daughter Keiko, who used to run the shadows until she sold out her team and returned to the family business. They are both ruthless, highly intelligent, and with the inclusion of Keiko, newly progressive with regards to metahuman and non-Japanese/non-male relations. They have had recent problems with the O'Malley run Mafia, mostly over control of the bio-awakened drug tempo, which resulted in the explosive-assassination of the O'Malley Don and the attemped assassination (and injury of) Oyabun Hanzo Shotozumi. Most of the rest of the casualties and damage were limited to their proxies, mostly street gangs, shadowrunners, and the like.
@Kerrah: You gathered about the same as Al with regards to the restaurant, knowing its location & the fact that its a kinda-dressy place where you can still do shadow-work if you keep it on the DL.
As for gangs: The Cutters & Ancients are the big players in Touristville, with the Crimson Crush holding turf in spots here & there. There are also a large number of small (6-12 members) groups which would legally fall under the definition of "gang" but wield pretty much no power outside a single building or block of the barrens.
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Carrying pistols is not at all a problem, so long as you're not packing them in cowboy style hip holsters, out in the open. The sword she turns an eyebrow up at, but after being assured of its antique nature and purely ceremonial function, she let's it slide for ¥100. Not a bribe, of course, that would be wrong and impolite, of course.
These Yaks are in particular interested in the "traditional" Japanese style, almost to a fault, which carries over to this restaurant. It doesn't help that some of the organization lean towards pre-Meiji reatoration, others to Eito period, and some of the younger ones choose the anime and manga style of the 20th century. The overall style feels classical, with dark wood, inlays, and rice paper hangings, but with a throwback "future past" sheen on the periphery.
Kerrah will contact Al and wait for him before leaving for the Phoenix House. "I'm heading out, Al. See you at the meet."
Kerrah will drive through Touristville slowly on her Mirage making sure not to attract attention.
She will arrive at the Redmond Phoenix House and find a secure auto-park. While her bike is lifted away she will straighten up her outfit and checks her look in her comm.
Kerrah is wearing the latest fashion under her armored jacket and has a concealed Walther Palm and concealed folding knife.
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@Kerrah: you can find a wig which will change color & general style, but without serious nano-tech you'll be unable to change length or cut on your own. Going from curly to frizzy to slick, and color changing is not a problem. All told, it'll run you ¥750 and count as a wireless enabled device.
Any other prep-work before I skip you to the Redmond Phoenix House?
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The Redmond Phoneix House does not immediately scream: high-end sushi restaurant. Part of that is due to its location: smack dab in Touristville, on a street corner most civilized folks wouldn't stop at in an Ares Roadmaster. For those in the know, the dirt and grime, as well as the bums in the alley around the corner seem just a little too properly placed.
The restaurant itself advertises very lightly out front, with a small neon sign combined with an ARO over the door. The door itself is a simple metal and armor-glass affair, blacked out with limo tints. A well-groomed human Japanese man stands between the outside door and the inner one, earpiece in and dark-framed glasses on his nose. He opens the door and gestures you inside as you approach.
Inside, a small counter stands off to the right, with a narrow staircase along the wall behind it. On the ground level, the room opens into a dining area scattered with about 2 dozen small tables. A handful of groups sit around, eating and chatting, no-one seems to take notice of your entrance. Behind the dining room a pair of hibachi grills take up the rest of the space, currently unoccupied.
A human Japanese woman in her 30s smiles from behind the counter. She wears a dark blue dress, in a roughly Asian fashion, with some gold embroidery around the neckline and down one sleeve. She bows slightly.
"Konbonwa, welcome to the Phoenix House. Do you have a reservation?"
Once she sees Hawatari, her smile gets just a little bit wider, and seems slightly more genuine.
"Oh, Hawatari-sama, good evening. I was instructed you would be attending tonight. If you would, please follow me and I will show you to your table." She makes a motion towards the counter, likely interacting with some ARO or other, then turns to the stairway and begins to climb. Up the stairs, the dark wood and retro-Japan motif continues, with apparent rice-paper and bamboo screens sectioning off sunken tables and. She leads the way to one such room, where the sliding door stands open, and gestures you to enter.
Inside, the square table is lower than most of you are used to, obviously with the intention that you would sit on the cushions set around in in the sunken area of the floor. There is a woven bamboo mat standing by the door, with a basket of paper slippers set inside the room.
"Please, take a seat, and the rest of your party will join you shortly. The AR menu has been enabled for ease of use, and if you need anything, please contact me. Thank you." With a bow, she leaves you to enter the room, and once settled closes the door and heads back the way she came. The door slides closed with a heavier than-bamboo-and-paper sound, and all noise from outside the room drops away.
The menu seems to have all sorts of drink choices available, from beer to spirits, as well a variety of soft drinks, teas, and other infusions.
Murphy shows up at the meet up looking very different than anybody remembers him. His hair well trimmed, his usual clothes gone and replaced with a moderately expensive suit. He checked his coat at the door and joins the others.
"I take I'm not late? S$~*... I forgot my, you know what, nevermind. Hawatari, Bobbi, and AL, how have you guys been the last two months?"
Murphy had forgotten his gun in his coat, but at least he has the power of magic.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Kerrah, now as 'Bobbi,' is dressed in moderately fashionable clothes with a new neon blue wig to match her accoutrements and blue nails, all of which highlights her elaborate face tattoo.
She feels a bit out of place in this upscale restaurant and fidgets with news fitted outfit. She is more comfortable in a causal bar but has learned to adopt her manner to fit the setting.
Once she sees her old team mate 'Murphy' she beams a smile at him.
"Hey Mate." She will greet the rest of the party when they arrive.
At the tiny table, 'Bobbi' will ponder the menu in ARO for a long time, as if the tech is a bit confusing to her and she needs to keep restarting the options list.
Finally, she will order "The Special" and a saki.
Without looking at the menu, Murphy asks about the menu.
"1 Echigo Koshihikari, and I am aware that this is a sushi establishment, but are there any other dishes such as a nice hot udon?"
Checking his suit, making sure that everything was alright he waits for a response and his beer.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Having incidentally visited the place only a few days before - and then again shortly after Al had sent his message and she her confirmation - Hawatari arrives in decent business dress - skirt, decent shoes, a nice button-down shirt - but by the way the cloth drapes it's probably not armored. She wears a narrow (and therefore masculine) obi instead of a belt, and thrust through it is her (gasp!) katana.
The woman is greeted as warmly as she greeted Hawatari; the elf replies in Japanese, her words accompanied by a short bow, "Good evening, Kyoki-sama. I hope all is quiet but business is good tonight." There are, of course, several undertones there - that she hopes things will remain quiet, that she will endeavor to keep them that way, that the business she speaks about is not only the restaurant, but its other business, as well as the business for which Hawatari is there.
Bobbi's new outfit is given a neutral scan; at least, Hawatari thinks, she knows enough to look uncomfortable. Murphy's finer outfit draws a slight smile, just an upwards curl of one side of her mouth; she nods slightly in approval, shrugging out of her coat, then folding it with fastidious care to bring it along with her. The katana remains right where it is as she follows Kyoki to what is clearly a private, soundproofed room.
Taking off her shoes before she steps into the room with the ease and lack of care only someone habitually familiar with the gesture would have, the Japanese elf sets her shoes fastidiously upon the mat, then steps into the room. After she gives the room a long, careful eyeing-over, she steps to the left side of the table, taking the place at the corner furthest from the door, but not facing the door; the place 'around the corner' from her, facing the door, should be where Al sits, being the one with whom contact was made.
Extracting her katana, scabbard and all, from the obi, she settles down into the kneeling position called seiza, her toes curled under her in a samurai's 'ready' position - again, one that she looks entirely familiar with. The katana is set down to her left, and she adjusts its placement with finicky precision before putting her coat down to her right - which she also adjusts very carefully. It's almost as though she brought a gun along, but is keeping it concealed.
Those two items accomplished, she accesses the menu, requesting water and checking to see whether or not there is to be actual dining. If so, she puts in for the chilean sea bass, miso soup, and a side of salmon yaki onigiri.
Al walks in dropping whichever name is necessary for the reservation. He's already eaten but is prepared to set a world record for nursing a single cup of tea while avoiding the mile high social graces required for this event.
The menu for the Phoenix House is, in fact, shows a full-service kitchen. Sushi, sashimi, maki, and all kinds of rolls are showcased, but there is a wide selection of cooked foods, soups, salads, and appetizers. The drink menu seems even nicer and well appointed than the food.
Hawatari knows, from her previous experience, that the seafood is almost certainly not fresh-caught, but is still quite tasty nonetheless. The vegetarian options are highlighted in the menu, listing several as "house specialties" and affording them prime positions in the layout.
Your drinks arrive extremely rapidly, delivered by a young Asian woman wearing the black uniform of the restaurant. She places the beverages down and bows before backing out of the room. Shortly after she leaves, a man approaches the room, poking his head in and flashing a smile before kicking off his shoes and entering. The door slides behind him with the same solid sound and he settles himself as comfortably as Hawatari did.
He's of indeterminate Caucasian heritage, with brown hair stylishly cut, smooth shaven, with light brown eyes. He wears a black suit over an immaculate white dress shirt with a shiny red tie. A silk pocket square matching the tie pokes out over his jacket pocket. As he unbuttons his coat to sit, you make out the matte black handle of a pistol holstered under his left arm. The cut of the suit hid the weapon from sight quite nicely, and if you had to guess, you'd say he displayed it intentionally.
"Good evening, I am glad you could meet me at relatively short notice. I'll be serving as Mister Johnson tonight, but you may call me Greg, if you'd like. My employer heard that you are an efficient and discreet team, so here I am to broker your services. I see you have already placed orders for drinks and food, perhaps you would like to postpone discussion of business for the moment? He looks at Hawatari as he says the last, with an inquisitive look.
(5 hits)
'Bobbi' may feel uncomfortable in her new threads but she has a knack for fitting right in all the same.
'Bobbi' sees Hawa looking her way and nods politely.
To Greg, 'Bobbi' says,
"If you don't mind, I would like a little privacy before we proceed with dinner"
and she pulls out a very small box that when activated gives off a subtle sound of rain and waves.
"Ok, I feel a bit more serene. Don't you?"
"It always reminds me the Bay Area."
Rating 6 White Noise Generator. Since Kerrah isn't good with tech, she will leave the matrix stealth to the experts but will cover her own liabilities.
Deadfaced and mildly annoyed at the lack of quick grab snacks...
"No. I've never seen a job that wasn't time sensitive - either with planning or execution. Every moment we spend enjoying the "ambiance" is 1 less we spend solving your problem."
Murphy's eyes go wide as he jabs AL in the ribs. Hard enough to get him to spill his drink if he was holding a beer.
"I think we have an ample amount of time to enjoy a lovely meal. Plus a few more of these will go nicely with dinner. Hey, anybody catch the futbol game yesterday? Tir na Nog v Hawaii? Bit of a nail biter in the last few minutes."
-Posted with Wayfinder
While the Japanese - indeed, 'decent' society of any sort - prefers to socialize first and do business after dinner, there can be many subtleties involved. This, in fact, is one of them, and Hawatari bows from the shoulders to the armed Caucasian Johnson who wished to meet in a Japanese restaurant. "It is for the host's convenience that we are here; your desires in this are paramount. If you desire to speak to the point, it displays your dedication to your employer's purposes; if you wish to get to know us before discussing the reasons behind your request to see us, it shows wisdom in gaining understanding of those of whom you wish a service."
Al gasps from the recoil and gets hot tea dribbling down his chin and throat...
"What are you talking about?! The season hasn't even started yet!"
...still too distracted to acknowledge the social faux pas.
"I think he meant 'fútbol' not football."
The Johnson, Greg, smiles at Al and spreads his hands in a "mea culpa" gesture.
"Sure, sure, I understand. Time is money, and all that. Perhaps I give you a bit of information, and you think on it over appetizers and the first round, then you let me know if we proceed past this initial meeting, eh?" He takes a sip of his beverage (something dark amber in a highball glass), and sets the tumbler down.
With a gesture, he brings up an AR window showing a still image of a middle-aged human man, wearing a labcoat and dark framed glasses. He does not seem familiar at first glance, but is obviously a researcher of some kind.
"This is the public biography of Dr. Mordin Solus, a botanist and agricultural sciences researcher out of the University of Chicago. He and his team have been researching some kind of hardy-growth produce, and may be conducting experiments in the nearby area. Do any of you have any experience with biological treatises, or botany? I admit, the science is beyond my ken, but the abstracts seem quite interesting to say the least."
He slides the ARO over to anyone who desires it, providing the bio and public publishing history, along with several papers authored by Dr. Solus for download. They are titled things like Direct vs. indirect effects of whole-genome duplication on prezygotic isolation in Chamerion angustifolium: Implications for rapid speciation or Leucocyanidin reductase activity and accumulation of proanthocyanidins in developing legume tissues. They are obviously very dense and technical.
-Posted with Wayfinder
With a very slight smile, Hawatari gives a nod and accepts the data. Even a cursory scan provides little information for her; her brain is still fuzzy on many things about which she used to possess an instinctive level of knowledge. However, she isn't here for just herself, and if push comes to shove, she has people who have people who know about these sorts of things. "And what has Dr. Solus been working on of late?" she wonders politely.
"Well, now, that would be a very interesting topic, very interesting indeed. It seems that the good doctor has kept his current topic of research close to his vest, as you can see, his last publication was more than 18 months ago. There may be implications for more...practical...applications beyond pure research. Then again, there may not."
The Johnson idly flips through the data, leaving the ARO up and visible. Soon enough, your ordered food arrives, brought by the same discreet young Asian waitress on a large black tray. She sets the dishes down in front of the appropriate guest before asking if there was anything else she could bring you.
Looking at the food itself, the presentation is quite nice, with bright colors and clean lines. The various rolls and sushi pieces form a beautiful display, inviting the diner to enjoy.