Fixer's Delight Reboot

Fixer’s Delight: A Shadowrun by Ghostmaker

For the runners:

It’s early morning 4 something going on five AM. No rain this isn’t Seattle. You are in whatever mood suits you… After going through your morning ritual or getting upset you have to wake up so early. You decide to check your messages. Nothing… last Job offer came in three days ago. Then it hits you! You remember you have a meeting with, what did he say his name was…? Monty! You smile to yourself,  who has a name like Monty? He wants to meet you in cyberspace, having taken the liberty of making reservations at Cobra link cyber cafe Upper west side. You look at the clock, glad you got up. There is an hour and a half till the specified time… might as well get started!

The Train ride into New york city Proper gives you a little Viw of the famous rebuilt island of Manhattan. The Metro North Monorail slows down a bit as you cross the bridge. The city is beautiful in the morning sun. The Tall buildings giving cover to the corporate take overs, and shady underhanded deals about to go down. As you enter the city, the city, the train goes through a scanning terminal. You COM beeps and you pull up a text and voice message from the MDC itself or so it says...

Message begins:

Greetings traveler welcome to Manhattan.

"Please note a few rules before stepping out of the transport:..." It goes on about the rules and regulations to be adhered to in Manhattan:

• No unlicensed weapons
  

• No fighting for any reason
  

• If you see something, say something
  

Blah blah blah. You start to wonder how a runner gets around in a place so tightly wound up, and under such constant scrutiny! The Message continues with an attached file, Which is Identified, and announced by the auto voice of the MDC: "a temporary pass has been added to your COM." The message goes on. "This pass will allow you access to certain sections in the city, within your Color Rank or lower. You pass is to be Broadcast at all times. Those not Broadcasting their COM's or Passes May be stopped and questioned and / or Detained by Authorities. Please stay in the area your pass is allotted for. This is to protect you as well as others. Thank you very much and enjoy what Manhattan has to offer. Your... Pass,,, Designation... is... Blue" Ding!




Message ends:

those in town get a message that there Pass has temporarily been changed to the high blue level granting them access to most of the city... How fortunate you say to yourself someones gonna get fired when word gets around about this happy accident but you enjoy your new pass none the less, taking the easy routes to your destination...

A tall lean man was looking out of a window of the monorail train as is passed old buildings of Columbia University. His face showed a hint of regret but it soon gave way to determined look as he took a bite off an energy bar. Of all things he had eaten for the past four months, the energy bar tasted most like - nothing. Yet he was thankful for its blandness. He chewed on it slowly and closed eyes, feeling the rush of energy spread throughout his body.
I'll need all the sugar I can get my hands on, he thought. He raised his hand and held it in front of him: he watched the barely perceptible nervous shake go away as his body started processing the huge amount of glycogens.

Must not be nervous, he told himself for a hundredth time this morning. You're meeting just another guy, and you don't even need to cut him up and put him back together. He's just a guy who needs you. Well, your skills. What was it that runners call guys like that? It was a name, like one of presidents of the former United States.. Nixon.. Wilson.. Johnson. Yes, Johnson.

Satisfied, he looked out of the window again and sighed. Four months ago he lived here and he could be proud of his career. Then events took a bad turn and he found himself cast out to the edge of society. But those four months on the fringe have opened his eyes. He learned the hard way that his career was a joke, a puppet show in fancy setting, no more real than a simsense soap opera. It was out there on the fringe he understood the difference he could make. All the happy healthy people around have no idea there's a whole other world out there, he thought, A world colored drab grey and sick green and dusty brown and it has ten thousands people living their drab, sick and dusty days without hope for improvement.

That was the world he belonged to, now. A world where a simple cut on a rusty nail could go untreated for weeks until the victim was burning with fever and, more often than not, died of blood poisoning. In a world like that, he made a real difference. But the people he treated had very little to give and so he found himself paying for their medicine, for bandages and stitches - until he could not do it anymore. And with his last nuyen gone, he had to face reality.

Several of the patients he had treated were "runners" or at least runner wannabes. They told him of running the shadows, of specialists for hire, they told him stories of fantastic sums of money one could make in the shadows. He was incredulous at first; none of them could prove their stories of riches. They  could barely afford to pay for the most basic treatment. But the thought kept gnawing on him. Maybe that's how he could make it all work: sew cuts and fix broken limbs and treat sick by day, and run shadows at night? Then one early morning he raised the question to a grizzled old ganger while reattaching his cut-off ear. The man gave him an appraising look and pulled the gun at him, only to find his hand empty and twisted behind his back.

"Alright Doc," barked the ork between laughter, "maybe you do have what it takes to get in the shadow. But you will need to fight, Doc. And you will need to kill."
"I will never kill," he replied firmly, "I work to save lives and heal, even if my patients shove their gun in my face. And I won't kill to save lives."
"We'll see, Doc. We'll see."

The old ork made good on his promise and passed his message into shadows. Now, several weeks later, he was on the monorail heading to his first meeting with someone who could introduce him to the actual thing...

With a tired crackling noise instead of automated announcement from the speakers, the train came to a halt with a nasty screeching sound which tore at his ears and woke him up from his brooding. He spared a glance at his map and stepped off the train, heading off towards Cobra Link Cyber-cafe.

Shawl wakes up early this morning, not very happy to be out in the world with the sun still shinning. I hate the sun the world is so much funner under the star lite night. Oh well I have a job and I need nuyen this pad doesn't come equipped with a money making machine. I might want to check and see if I can buy one that would make life easier until the law comes asking why my funny money is showing up in their regulated world. Shawl lights a cancer stick then gets a small glass and gives himself a bight of the dogs hair. With warm whiskey in his belly and a haze of smoke heating up his lungs Shawl feels a bit more ready to join the living today. Time to see if this run will pay some of my bills.

Shawl grabs his super man underwear armor then straps on his shin and forearm guards. With the secret protection in place he puts on some black jeans, a white collared shirt with a nice silk blue tie. Well this might keep johnny law from getting on my case, but then again it might not. Not wanting to run into a fight with out some edge Shawl decides to risk having one shot of jazz in his coat pocket and a hit of psyche too. Shawl sports his long black leather looking coat, black leather gloves and pockets his subvocal mic and trode baseball cap.  you never know I might have to hit the run right after the meet best to have some of my tools on hand, I'll leave the gas mask at home, but better strap the gun.Shawl straps his Browning into its concealed holster loaded with stick n shock and grabs one more clip of the same. No way was Shawl going to bring his silencer the law sees that and it will be a hell of a fight not to go to the judge. Last Shawl puts on his black shades. With all his gear in place he grabs his two comm links and heads out. Shawl get his car to drive him to the train then drive itself back to the garage.



Once at the Train Shawl waits with a smoke in mouth. I hope today will full of clouds the sun and me don't like each other too much. Shawl takes the last drag off his Ares Black cig then kills the cherry under his foot. Once on the Train Shawl pulls up his AR view of the 'Trix and sends a command to his Agent "Moon Code" to find all the news reports about Magic that has hit the 'Trix in the last week. With his view full of digital info Shawl sits back in his seat as he soaks up all he can until he gets to his destination.

The First thing Shawl does when he gets off the train is send more fog of death into his mouth. With the fog filling his need for the nicotine Shawl makes his way to the meeting spot with his mind filled of days training at "The Corp." Spell training, spirit summoning, and other magic based skill enhancing. The Corp got me into the Shadows and I know any time they come calling I'll have to do anything I can to help they will always be the boss of me, but it does come with a few perks. I just hope the perks will keep death at bay long enouph for the mystic power I have to grow into something that will enrich my life with a hell of a ride before I become a spirit the next runners call out to for aid. Well lets see what Monty has for me this day...... Ah sun I wish this was a night meeting.

sitting on the train as the stares continue to itch against his skin, his fatigues stick out a bit against everyone's more... upscale clothing. his case between his feet comforts him a little and his blades hidden around his body make him feel entirely less naked. James is going a little insane thinking about all those computers he has to be near. "stupid computers, just glad to put some nuyen back into my pocket" he mumbles to himself.

As he steps off the train finally he consults a map near the exit and heads for the place he was referred to via comlink. "thank goodness I finally got a run... the forest just doesn't seem to be providing me what it usually does lately." as he walks down the streets he sees all the signs for all the stores around and his comlink keeps beeping at him. "and now the electronic madness starts." he presses the silent button and continues to walk down the street. "finally I can just get there without all those ads or whatever they are..." The streets are not as bad as they could be and a burly man like himself causes quite a stir as a mountain man walks through the crowds they part to let him move and they cant quite remember what he looked like after he passes. 'Thank goodness my father did not pass on his strong features' he thinks to himself, 'I would hate to be recognized on a run" but hopefully a few nuyen in his pocket will be nice to keep him from starving since he at least has his tiny little hut in the back of beyond. "maybe there will be one of those matrix geeks or whatever they call themselves and can actually show me how this stupid thing works and make it stop receiving every drekking ad from every drekking place I pass" he say's aloud to himself. that actually seems to brighten his day and he walks a little faster to the cyber cafe.

On the way:

Joe: As glance at your AR map in the peripheral of your vision you get a dizzy feeling and it causes even you with your high balance factor to stumble...

OOC:Not fall over just look a little drunk for a moment... or until you turn it off.

Shawl: nope much to your dismay the sun is rising and in full strength you do understand what that means and it perturbs you... Also the map you pulled up seems to be for somewhere else you'll have to readjust the settings if you wanna be on time...

OOC:-2 to actions in the sunlight

James: After you turn off your AR ads filter you walk past a pizza pasta shop on the right an cartoon italian chef jumps off the window and into your face yelling "BOJORNO!!! You likeah de pizza for lunch order now gettah you pizza nice and a hot at a lunchah time...Pizza! pizza, pizza for sale!!! From the left taxi's are here, and they are blinking open signs over and over, and over in you line of vision, and a life insurance banner from Doc wagon keeps flowing past your eyes "Great rates in an unsafe world. Try Doc wagon protection plans for loss of limb and life who wants to die and leave there affairs to someone else try Doc wagon protection!!!!"

OOC:i don't think James has an image link so he hears it all coming from his COM pretty annoying mesh of sound but without image link its all noise...

The sleek monorail hummed as it sped along its track. Leroy McCoy, as the forgered SIN attached to the decoy commlink he carried identified him, sagged in his seat beside the window, chin resting on his chest and his hat brim low over his eyes, lulled by the vibration and gentle rocking. Or at least, that's what the other riders would assume if they even noticed his slouched position. Actually, the steady hum of the train had been similar enough to the buzz of data traffic through the Matrix to instead lull McCoy into virtual reality as Ahab, the digital mariner who plumbed the depths of cyberspace in search of… what? He could not say what, or who, was pulling at him in cyberspace, but the pull was irresistible.
McCoy, or Ahab, was a technomancer. One of those "virtuakinetics" able to access and manipulate the Matrix, wireless signals, and electronic devices with nothing more than the power of his will.
He had just recently "emerged" during a run in Seattle, his home town, and had narrowly escaped both law enforcement and his own team's sudden transformation into mob-like fear and hatred. That was why he was here, on this train, on his way to the first real meet after arriveing in Manhattan. And the meet would be held just where he would have chosen it; a cyber cafe.

Ahab rode the digital swells and surges of the monorail's navigational systems, his living persona that of a wild-eyed ancient pirate tied about with steel cable, a harpoon tip for a right hand. He resisted the urge to 'reach out' and manipulate the flows of data around him... this time. Instead, he simply floated along wherever the 'waters' bore him, content to go as the streams pulled and pushed him.
Then a message from the MDC jarred him back to reality and he sat up, remembering to raise his commlink without his shades on. The message wasn't too long and after the 'Ding!' of his Blue NYC Pass, McCoy gathered himself in preparation for arrival.

Since he'd been 'dozing', his first real look at New York came as the monorail slid into the platform. Plenty of sunshine bathed the city in dazzling sweeps of glinting glass, chrome, and steel. One couldn't help but feel a sense of opportunity gazing at that shining metropolis. McCoy hoped the glitter was not just fake glitz.

He stepped out of the monorail car, looked around to see where the other passengers were heading, and followed suit. Moving along the platform, he noticed a map of the city being scrutinized by a large burly man. McCoy considered taking a look too, but as he neared the map and its examiner he caught sight of a line of taxis parked at the curb. He decided to pass up the map, thinking 'I'd hate to have to go up against that guy in a fistfight,' and headed for a taxi instead.

>>>>03:28 Alley behind Hearty Arty's Diner, West Side

Antonio stands just outside the open alley door of Hearty Arty's Diner looking down at a dark smudge on his white shirt before looking back inside. Ruined, that ain't comin out. Did that fat slot ever fragging clean? Tell ya, sure hope the next guys better but I ain't eatin here again. He doesn't bother to mask his disgust or displeasure in the job at hand, for which he still isn't getting paid. No it was family and familia that motivated his efforts tonight. With a sigh Antonio bends back down and grabs his end of a large and very heavy rug, not surprising as rolled in the middle is the former Manager of Arty's. Silent Sam, a short swarthy man who rarely speaks, grins and shrugs before getting a better grip and they haul the heavy carpet out and toss it onto the back of a cargo truck with a dozen other carpet rolls already inside.
Once done Antonio curses the addition of two more greasy stains on his shirt. He claps Sam on the shoulder in thanks and farewell. Sam climbs into the truck which immediately drives off down the alley. Antonio turns and walks over to a parked sedan, collecting his blazer and leather coat from on the trunk, leaning in to the back window. As soon as the glass slides down he smiles at his uncle, Big Tony's, hard and heavy features.
Next time let me know, I'll wear proper threads for this drek. Big Tony only squints his hard gray eyes even more at Antonio. Antonio just blithely goes on. Mia's already cleaned up the mess but now has to clean the rest of the kitchen in order to hide that one suspiciously clean spot. I'm outa here Unc, need a shower and clean clothes. Give my love to Auntie and tell Saul to heal up fast or I'm gonna start billing him. Antonio pats the hood, wishes his uncle a good night and walks out of the alley.
Flagging a cab down almost immediately he directs it towards home.


>>>>04:02 Neon City, Antonio's Brownstone
Antonio walks straight into his bedroom and strips down, checking everything for stains as he goes. With a sigh of relief he tosses his shirt into the garbage while the rest goes into a laundry bin. Taking advantage of the early hour and the fact that all his roommates are out he takes a nice long shower. The sudden announcement of Vigo Valaduchi's pass upgrade to Blue followed by his comm chiming to remind him of an appointment finally pulls him out from under the hot water. [i] Oh yah, gotta meet with Monty.
Antonio takes his time shaving and cleaning up, picking an aftershave appropriate for the day. With the same care he picks a dark storm cloud grey suit with a pale blue dress shirt and dark grey leather shoes. With his Ceska holstered onhis left side and the Colt concealed in the in his leather jacket Antonio slips his hardliner gloves in his jacket along with both comm's, a jammer, a white noise generator and a few other toys his fake SIN justifies.
After a quick breakfast and a beer Antonio is refreshed and ready for the day. Whistling he leaves and takes a short walk to the train, taking it to Upper West Side before catching another cab the last of the way to the Cobra link.

Cobra Link 24hr Cyber café 6:00 am.

”People here are patrons of the cyber lounge, and the occasional Tech support guy… At the wee hours of the morning, most of them are zombified.  On their adventure through the matrix all-nighter, some are chipping out.  The proprietors claim to have nothing to do with that! An obvious lie when you consider. As you enter a light/sound/ buzzing can be seen /felt/ heard, depending on the mode of your COM.
Buzz ding…

A spotlight shines on the doorway illuminating you and alerting the staff to the fact that they have a new customer the illumination is brief if not uncomfortable…

You are approached individually after the light show by a staff member who leads you through the darkness. Disco-like lights shine over the chip zombies, gamers and other assorted matrix Jockeys of the café sporting all manner of TRODS. Also outfitted with AR gloves and data jacks, your lead to a private room, where there are some comfortable looking lay back synth leather chairs with TROD helmets and AR gloves, on them. The helmets sport black visors to cover the eyes… The room is state of the art you can tell. And there are no screens for monitoring the matrix activity, but there is a screen for each chair which displays vitals, and bio readings. There is also a minor med staff with the tools to help a user from a variety of Matrix Induced ills. They can handle anything from dump shock, to being caught by black IC. Just in case of trouble. Or so it seems…

There may or may not be other interviewees here. You are led to a chair, seated and asked to suit up, so to speak. The gloves and helmet are indicated at that time, you are then asked to “lay back and relax, please breath normally…” right, like that’s gonna happen!


Players may interact with staff and each other for a few minutes, but then it’s time for the meeting…

Joe fell into stride along with other travelers and was just reaching for the switch on his pad when a sudden feeling of nauseating disorientation caused him to nearly lose balance. He could feel himself brush against someone to his left, then bump into another person right in front of him. Upset voices and weird looks followed him as he stumbled out of the crowd, clutching his rucksack.

He leaned against a steel support and shook his head, trying to regain his composure. I hate these things, he thought, they fool your senses and make you believe their lies. They get into your head and confuse you. He preferred and old-fashioned 2D display and used it whenever he had the chance. Technology can help, he always said, but too much of it turns us into mindless drones, living in a dream world.

He waited out another wave of nausea and only then he reached to turn his commlink off. He took a deep breath and steadied himself again, his middle ear finally in tune with his eyesight again. A few more weird looks from the crowd. It was almost as if he could read their thoughts. Their looks said it as clearly as if they had spoken out loud: that guy is either on something or is sick.

He met their stares with a crooked smile that caused them to look the other way, then he merged into the endless stream of hurrying people.


=== Cobra Link Cyber Cafe, 6:03 ===

If the light show at the entrance was uncomfortable, the cafe itself was plain annoying. Even while following a cafe employee and being overwhelmed by pulsing lights, multicolored strobes and flickering of the many screens, Joe had little trouble recognizing onset of  neural overload with at least four of the cafe's "clients". While their EEG appeared stable, he could see the increased perspiration and occasional erratic twitching of their fingers. That's what people do to themselves, he thought. It wasn't the first time he thought that for all the drugs out there, cyberspace could be one of the most devastating ones.

Joe did little to hide his discomfort. When the staff member tried to explain that the cafe was taking all kinds of precautions, he was met with a cold stare that made him rattle off his lines and show Joe into a quiet private room, then disappear in the crowd.

Joe stepped through the door still holding onto his rucksack, wondering who else is he going to meet on this occasion.

arriving shortly after 6 James cannot help but twitch at all the technology around him. 'how am I supposed to make this stuff work... hopefully they can just do all this drek for me.' he see's that others are already hooked up and has the staff member help him hook up everything. "breath normally I can do, but asking me to relax is a bit much" he stares nonchalantly through the black goggles where he is sure the man is standing.

He can feel the press of his case against the back of his legs as a virtual world starts to show though the glasses. he mumbles to himself "always funny feeling seeing this stuff when the sounds and smells just are not right..." he shifts heavily around trying to not think about how unnatural this is. 'at least with a comlink its just talking and gps is fairly straight forward' his thoughts wander as he listens intently at the speakers just waiting to get all this crap off so he can go back to the real world. his thoughts wander to all those out in the rest of the cafe who are obviously doing something to screw up their bodies. 'why would you use technology to screw up you body anyway?' he just keeps himself calm and hope this thing doesn't fry like every other piece of technology seems to when he gets near it.

McCoy had been fortunate; the cabbie had known of the Cobra Link CyberCafe, and had deposited him at the curb right in front of the place. Despite the relatively early hour, the sidewalks were already teeming with corp-types and other 'worker drones' on their way to begin another day's biz. He dodged through the crowd and into the Cafe, then halted abruptly as he was 'pinned' by a stark white spotlight. He relaxed quickly when a cafe employee came and led him to a private room. He tried to explain to the cute girl about the meeting he was supposed to attend, but she avoided his comments saying his business was his own and no concern of the cafe management; as long as his online activities could not reflect on the cafe or its staff.

"You will be informed of Cobra Link regulations once you're logged in," she said with a slight smile.

She ran through a brief demonstration of the proper use of the chair and its equipment, then left him to fend for himself.

McCoy watched her go, not without appreciating the fit of her uniform, then scanned the room for others like himself, getting ready for the meet. There was one other person present; a couple guys were already fitted with their gear and looking none too enthusiastic about the set up.

"Hoi chummers," McCoy offered as a casual greeting. "First time at a cyber-meet?"

As he spoke, he slipped on the helmet and gloves attached to his chair. The visor blocked his view of the other guy, but McCoy figured that didn't really matter since the two of them and any others who showed up would soon be in the same situation.

hearing the greeting James replied. "I would not say its the first, but I sure do hate how everyone cant just use real communication instead of this drekking matrix." he shifts more but just cant get comfortable with something blocking his sight.

McCoy grinned. In truth, he was a little apprehensive himself, though for other reasons.

"Guess you could say I'm familiar with the Matrix," he replied, hiding his unease, "but never quite this way. By the way, name's McCoy, good to meet you both."

Joe tried to get comfortable but it was difficult with all the new and strange devices pressing onto him from all directions. He flashed his companions a smile and shrugged: "Yeah, first time. Name's Joe, nice to meet you too. I just don't like these thin.." Suddenly he started with a yelp, glaring at the technician: "Ouch, watch it there!"

"I'm sorry, sir. This is a standard procedure to get you hooked up."
"Nobody told me we're talking medieval torture here, man." Joe growled half-heartedly and fell back into his seat with an exasperated sigh.
"Are you sure this thing even works? I'd hate to go through this only to find out that it doesn't do..."

This sentence, too, remained unfinished as the visor snapped into place and the computer took over.

McCoy nodded at Joe's comment, then had to smirk at himself, nodding at people who he knew couldn't see him. No... he wasn't nervous at all... cool as ice, yeh sure.

He lay back in his own chair, took a few deep breaths, and waited for the show to begin.

>>>>>06:03 Cobra Link CyberCafe

Antonio makes a show of checking the cab's AR clock, smacking the cabbie on the shoulder before snagging his credstick back.    Close but no banana monkey boy.    He hops out of the cab and slams the door, grinning as he waves at the fuming cabbie.    Hey, don't cry foul man.  You made the bet not me.  Call me later, Tony's changed payouts for the track again.    Turning, Antonio's smile vanishes and he picks up his stride.

Despite his displeasure at being late for anything Antonio saunters into the CyberCafe.  Letting his cyber eyes strip away much of the darkness he watches the staff wander about until the spotlight spears him like some those fat guy singers his mom used to love so much.    Wow, how you doin?  Cause suddenly I'm doin real fine.   His grin springs back as a petite attendant turns and walks towards him.    Please tell me your gonna assist me today.    
With a small smile and, obvious to Antonio's cyber eyes at least, a notable blush the young lady nods then leads him towards the back.  The whole way Antonio walks beside her and fills her ear with charming chatter to which she politely listens, still blushing.  Once into the room she turns to leave and Antonio stops her with a gentle touch on her wrist, slipping a small card into her hand.    Call me old fashioned, honey, so long as you call me.    

With a smile and a little whistle he picks himself an empty chair and gets comfortable.  Disdaining the trode gear and gloves, Antonio allows them to connect the medical junk then simply jacks himself in.    And now for something completely different, hello Monty.    With a soft mental 'click' the outside world is gone, replaced by VR.

When their all strapped in and ready read following:

When your helmet is secured you are given a choice of icons on a screen projected to you via retina projection laser. Then you are given instructions.

Options:

verbal, visual, or no instructions for the matrix savvy guests…. Your choices are: Male, female, large, small, various meta types, with various options for looks. There is also a random button icon, or a blank manikin like icon, you may choose from any…

OOC: Guys in your posts pick your icon options k

Its 3:30 something AM in Seattle Once your Icon is chosen your whisked away to a Virtual Club in the Seattle net. Club Mystified appears as a two story building with speakers lining the doors outside. There is also an in and out line of patrons. There is a male Ork off to the side of the Virtual Club Decked out in a super nice suit even for the matrix, with a pair of sun glasses though there is no sun… He motions to your Icons to come over if you do…

When you get to him he smiles saying to you all “Well let’s go yous” he leads you to a back door to the club explaining “Yous didn’t think VIPs like you selves would use a normal server or the front door did ya!” This puts you at ease as you are in the right spot. He opens the door and a red carpet like light appears with AR arrows to show you the way through the darkness… “Monty’s waiting for yous in there please step too… and please stay on the red carpet…” he says motioning you in.

Note: Those of you with simsense Vertigo are given an injection while in the trix you might feel a pinch on your arm its because your vitals are erratic the solution given will help orientate you while your in no side effects k before that though you feel really bad after choosing your icon like sickly...

Antonio scans all the options as they pop up. Picking visual instructions, always getting a laugh out of the cartoonist nature of the pop-up windows. As usual he picks the one that most resembles himself, Average Model #3, then takes considerably more time choosing his clothing. Finally satisfied Antonio's icon is dressed much like in life, an elegant suit with a long leather coat over top and a gunmetal fedora.

Once Seattle and the club materializes around him Antonio checks out the people coming and going, quickly spotting the slick Ork waiting to the side. How ya doin? Nodding and greeting anyone making eye contact as he walks over the the Ork. With a small smile he listens to the Orks spiel and follows along to the side door and the glowing red carpet.
Tipping his hat Antonio thanks the Ork then nods at the other icons with him, already trying to imagine what they might look in Real Life. With another tip of his hat at the others he saunters inside.

The sheer amount of choices was a little overwhelming, but Joe tried to find his way around them as quickly as possible. No complicated stuff, he thought, just do what you know. With that, he selected verbal instructions and set up his avatar to resemble himself; he couldn't see why he'd want to appear as, say, an elf or troll - especially given the fact that the others were in the same room in real-world.

The virtual world opened before him and the discrepancy between what his inner ear felt and what most other senses were telling him caused him to feel nauseated again, this time up to the point of making him feel physically ill. Before he could react though, he felt a tiny prick in his arm and a stinging sensation as someone injected him. He recalled the medical team standing at the ready and forced himself to stay calm and breathe slowly. In less than a few heartbeats, the vertigo was gone, leaving behind only a slightly sour taste in his mouth.

And he was thankful to the medics, whatever it was they injected him with - because only moments later, he felt himself being pulled across space at a startling speed, or so it felt. Joe was quite sure that if it wasn't for the injection, he'd have thrown up several times in those few seconds.

He looked around and his eyes fell on the computer-generated figure of an ork in an extremely fancy suit. It looked incredibly real yet unrealistically flawless. He let himself be ushered inside and walked on, taking in all the incredibly complex illusion.

You step in and your ears are driven to a beat from a constant drum rhythm coming from nowhere in particular. The darkness is thick strangely enough you can see your icon glowing in the gloom and maybe doom landscape you can also see the others icons. The door behind you slams shut, but smoothly trusting you instincts you trek on, following your red carpet guide through different nodes. Until you come to a glowing doorway. The doorway does not appear to be set into a wall, but you can clearly see it’s a door to somewhere…

Players may talk amongst themselves, make designs for moving forward, or pick someone to open the door, Matrix PC may begrudgingly do their thing (OOC: no posting beyond opening the door)

James clicks on Male, large, human. then gets uploaded to the cafe. he looks around and smiles a bit, looks like a regular old bar, why does everyone seem so tall comparitively... then looks down at his hands, "what the bloody hell" then thinks to himself 'I need to stop watching all the british trids in my spare time'. he looks back at his hands and shakes his head as he is looking at the daintiest pair of hands he had ever seen... keeps looking at the rest of himself and realizes he is wearing a dress and is a woman... "drekking technology!" at this the entire club kind of stares at him then goes back to what they are doing. realizing that they should not stare at a little girl, even if she is cussing like a sailor.

he finally walk over to the ork and just follow him with the others. when he sees the glowing door he can just imagine all the funny stuff that should not be possible. "Is this magic inside the matrix?"

ooc: if you would like I will change this but thought it was quite hilarious... and made sense according to your post in the ooc thread...

Shawl took a bit longer then he thought to get to the cyber bar but he made it. Putting out his smoke into a pocket ash tray not to leave even a little bit of himself to be swept up by some crazed mage with ideas of casting a ritual against Shawl.

Once inside the cyber bar he starts his walk to the backroom to get plugged in. Hey doll could you do me a favor tweak my icon so I can have a smoke that has the punch of a real smoke. Hey if you go virtual you want to have the needs of the mind. Thanks for the help Sweaty. Getting stapped into the rig Shawl can't help but hope his magical aura doesn't do a number on the tech he is using, it doesn't happen a lot well not any more in his teens first coming into the mana shaping his aura had a way of killing all things technical. Shawl has gone through training and his aura is not so destructive as it once was but there is time when tech just dies or interperts the input into it as if Shawl had said to do something else.

With a choice of icon in front of his face he decides to take an average human that he grabs the pack of smokes the nice lady made sure was available for him. With the bones in place he decides to deck his icon out with a nice Black Robe with a hood. Shawl does a few adjustments to the Robe so silver runes start to appear on the hem line of his dark black robe. Well look at that I'm a nice pimped out mage. I could have hidden an idea I was a mage but lets have some fun. I wish I could hack a bit give my self a skull face like my own 'trix icon but with all the tech problems growing up I'm lucky I've even learned the small skills in computers that I have. With Shawls crazy mage ready to go he appears in the Seattle. Hey guys good time to see what the 'Trix has stirred up for us this day. Shawl keeps the hood of his robe in place so his face is cloaked in shadows. He looks over the other icons. Well I guess I could have blend more and keep my mage side of things more secret but ah this is a team I might run with and it is always fun to spice yourself up a bit in the 'Trix.

Shawl walks pass the light in the front, and the staff. Then asks for something from one of them. after ignoring them like he owns the place making his way to the back... The Attendant smiles at Shawl and says "Sorry but we don't tweak the icons what you see is what you get... all the others are strapped in now if you'll lay back please..."


Shawl notices when choosing his Icon there are no hacking or real controls of any kind. just choices


OOC: ok ok no toying with the icon specs and there is no real way to interface with the subroutines Also shawl gets a female troll for an avatar wearing biker shorts and tube top  ill have a GM post after suspect straps in

Shawl gets all happy thinking he is going to show up at the meet as a pimped out Mage with some cool stylized choices then when he sees a quick reflection of himself his mind drifts back to comm links dieing on hims and maglocks send off alarms. Well it could be worse if I had never took the training at "The Corp" to get my mana rippling aura under control... Troll chick defensively could be worse.

This wasn't the first time Joe had wished he was more experienced with matrix life, but it always struck him as "the thing otherfs do". It wasn't really his cup of tea, the world out there was fantastic enough if you knew where to look. But at this time and this place, he did feel a bit out of his league.

I wonder what happens if I were to open that door, he thought. Then he looked back and around himself at the others. Most of them were using avatars just like his own, inconspicuous and ordinary. Except for the two who had just arrived - a petite girl who seemed a bit confused (well I can understand that, Joe thought), and a rather large troll woman in a somewhat unfitting attire.

"Hey there.." he began, then stopped when the troll looked at him. He was far from being prejudiced, but he could sense a bit of annoyance from her, and he really couldn't recall seeing a troll girl in the cyber cafe. "I mean, uh - I suppose all of us have been invited here at the same time? To meet a Mr. Monty? So, where do we go from here?"