Mercurial: Setting the Stage

It was late evening on a warm July night when Ashe's commset buzzed. Hitting the receive button, a familiar face flashes up on the screen. "Good evening, Ashe. I'm glad I was able to catch you at home." The man, middle-aged, with a Corp-cut and the sort of bad skin that comes from decades of chain-smoking, reaches over to one side of the comm. You can't see what he's doing, but after moving something around he looks back into the screen. "First of all, let me thank you for your assistance during that bit of business in March. It was most appreciated. I can honestly say I never expected to get Harui to come around... at least, not so quickly. And definitely not so painlessly."

The man was a Johnson, and had given his name as one Thomas Jones. Ashe knew he worked for Saeder-Krupp, and had aided him during negotiations with a Japanacorps exec visiting Seattle. The deal in question had been complex. While the company had been legit enough, the negotiations had actually revolved around its connections with the Sumiyoshi-rengo, the second largest Yakuza clan in Japan. Although Ashe didn't have all the details, the likeliest reason for the negotiation had been for SK to use those connections to channel more of the megacorp's products into Japan herself, bypassing the IJS's strict (and decidedly protectionist) import policies.

Harui had been a hard sell, but Ashe had managed to bring the man around to Jones' way of thinking.

"I was happy to help, you know that... Besides, dealing with foreigners is sometimes a particularly tricky matter. I have a little bit of expertise in that field, and you are most welcome to avail yourself of it." Her heart-shaped lips curled up, flashing one of her winning smiles to the man. But they both knew that her assistance came at a premium. "The thing that makes it work, as you know, is that you're both going to gain a tremendous business partnership out of this friendship that we have put together. All I did was pave the way, so that you could get in and have that important discussion. It was nothing."

The Johnson smiled in return. "Quite. Your excellent performance is why I'm calling you. An... associate of mine is shopping for talent. While he didn't give me all the details, I did manage to glean something of the nature of the work. Apparently, the agent of a very popular media figure is looking to hire a team of Shadowrunners to do some bodyguard work. When the man, a fixer, received the assignment, he started making inquiries, searching for someone competent enough to take the lead on such a high-profile job.'

'When he contacted me, I thought of you. Given the most satisfactory nature of the service you rendered me, as well as your history, I thought it would be prudent to contact you with the data. If you're interested, I can set up a meet between you and the fixer."

Ashe heard out the rest of Thomas' message, and her curiosity was peeked when she heard 'high profile.' Shadowrunners did occasionally do bodyguard work... but usually it took the form of 'site security.' And that usually for people with interests that lay decidedly outside the law, where hiring a legitimate protection agency was potentially troublesome. The idea that someone who lived out in the light looking for help from them... it was unusual, to say the least.

"That sounds like a very interesting discussion to be having. I would be obliged if you would work with your associate on my behalf. If you need me, I will make sure that I am available for your phone number. You have my cell, right?" Her smile was fixed now; it was part of her 'work' expression. Open and welcoming, but as unreadable in its own way as the stony expression so favored by most businessmen. It was at once disarming and confident. The sort of expression a psychiatrist would wear when greeting a new patient.

"No need," Jones said, a thin, terse smile touching his lips. "Standard procedure in a situation like this is for you to meet with the fixer. I'm just the middle-man, offering information and services for the right price." He let the words trail as he looked an expectant question into the screen.

"Of course. Standard procedure..." Ashe responded. This was the same old game she had played, who knew how many times before. Legitimate or not, business was still moved by either "favors" or money. Usually money.

"Standard fee?" She asked, not really expecting a "yes" on this one. His "standard fee" was a flat-rate, which he used for the grey business; the sort that was kept under the table for tax reasons or similar. But, it could be that he wanted to push his relationship forward with this "associate" and that he was willing to reduce his cost to make sure that the business was taken care of in a cost-efficient manner. Either way, she wasn't particularly concerned with it. It would come out of her dispersion money before she saw it anyway, so unless Jones was in the mood to disclose, she wouldn't ever find out what his cut was going to be.

"That's acceptable." By the tone of his voice, it was impossible to tell if he was pleased or not. "However, I'd be willing to waive any fee... provided that you can make yourself available to my company sometime around the Twenty-third of September. I have a meeting with another firm around that time, and I believe your presence there could serve to make our negotiations more... amicable."

Interesting... Ashe thought to herself. Jones won't be paid directly for this job... I will have to take a note of that.

"Favor. I can do a favor. Consider the 23rd booked." She said, nodding. Favors were a somewhat more difficult method of payment, since it was quite a bit more complicated than a one-for-one transaction. That said, owing a Johnson a favor was usually a good thing. Things usually got to be tricky, and uncomfortable, when the Johnson owed you the favor. Despite popular opinion on the matter, it is much better to owe than to be owed. People are far more willing to be amicable, polite, and forthcoming, when they felt they are in a "position of power," so to speak. She was more than happy to give that to the Johnson in return for the odd, decent job.

"Very good." He reached over again, to the same place and in the same manner as he had at the beginning of the call. "I'm sending you the location and meet-time. The individual in question is one Richard Nelson, but I understand that he goes by the 'Alton Descartes' these days. I imagine he'll be more disposed to use the latter during your meeting. He's the fixer the job is coming through, and will be the one to interview you for the position."

Jones leaned forward, staring into the vidscreen with an expression of deadly earnestness plastered across his features. "Don't let his manner fool you, Ashe; the man's as juiced as they come, and got to his position by climbing over a great many bodies."

Leaning back, the man added, "Consider it a friendly warning. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you before our appointment." He reaches forward a hand towards the screen. "Until then, take care.” The feed cut to black, and was replaced by a screen-saver.

---

Ashe was no stranger to the idea of a meet. Without anything but the location, she had little to go on regarding her expected dress and decor. She had a time, as well, but was entirely devoid of the opportunity to know if the fixer would be one to appreciate a fashionably late entrance or if he was one of those who believed that 'early is on time.' Ashe decided that conservative was always the most reasonable course. In this case, and based on what she knew of where she'd be going, the young elf had a fairly clear picture of both her dress and timing. She was auditioning as a face and team lead... and she was going to be meeting a man who preferred the depths of Dante's Inferno to a more upscale environment. She intended to match the mood, so to speak.

Ashe took a shower, but didn't was her hair. Despite the late hour of the meet, Ashe would have to spend nearly all day prepping herself, just to be certain of meeting whatever expectations might be held for her. She dressed quickly in street clothes and headed down to the salon, where she would spend the rest of the morning having her hair coiffed. The stylist was one she'd known for year. He knew what she needed and delivered, with great skill.

After several hours, the face left with her hair in ringlets, perched atop her head like a crown

After she'd returned to her apartment, Ashe began searching through her closet, searching for just the outfit he'd need to fit the occasion. First, she singled out a black, patent leather skirt. Not quite short enough to be considered 'mini,' but it would certainly draw attention... and keep it. To compliment this, she turned to her shoe rack, looking for just the thing that would work with the skirt. After several minutes, she found it: a pair of polished, black leather, five inch heels. The thing that made them special, of course, was the design of the shoe itself: The entire shoe, except the sole of course, was made up of strung leather thongs, which would wrap around from her toes to her ankles and back. There was enough of them to give the briefest appearance of a solid shoe, but closer scrutiny would show the detail, and care, that with which they had been manufactured. And, of course, the cost. They were anything but comfortable, but that wasn't the point, after all. She then returned to the clothes rack to find the best top for the outfit. She had never been the kind of girl to wear spikes, even clubbing. So this was a somewhat less obvious a choice to make. She drew out three different blouses to review; the first was a black silk blouse, tailored for her specifically. It would hug her form like a second skin, with just the barest of flow to suggest, rather than explicitly state, what was underneath. The second, a black patent leather top, even tighter than the blouse, was designed precisely for a club such as the one she'd be visiting. The third was simpler than the other two: It was built almost like a shawl, intended to appear draped over her shoulders, and run down her front with plenty of extra fabric, but leaving the central strip of her torso uncovered, right down to her skirt. The finest black silk, it would shimmer under the lights of the club.

After careful consideration, Ashe decided on the last. Looking at herself in the mirror, a wide smile split her delicate features. Perfect.

---

Dante's Inferno was one of the hottest clubs in the 'plex. It sprang up from the ground at the corner of 5th and Madison in downtown, its chromed glass exterior shining and giving the sharply angled tower the appearance of nothing quite so much as a dagger aimed at Heaven. Which may be the point. After all, Dante's Inferno is aptly named; the interior of the club is designed to render Alighieri's vision in decidedly modern cloth. In Dante's, you could perform all the oldest sins, in all the latest ways.

The line stretched around the block. It always did; the going word was that the line never stopped, even when the club was closed during daylight hours. Supposedly the would-be club-goers, decked out in the latest and most fashionable of destroyed denim and stressed leathers, replete with steel, silver studs, and chains, preferred to curl up on the asphalt and concrete, fearful of losing their place in the perpetual line. The word went on to say that this was a crafted effect; the waiting in line was supposed to represent Limbo, the place where all the losers in the old Italian's book went when they died.

The interior certainly gave a bit of plausibility to the claim. The first level of the club housed the lobby, which was made up to look exactly like the street outside, down to fire-hydrants poking up through cracked asphalt. Named "Envy," the level represented its eponymous sin by showing that once you were inside, nothing had really changed... save that now you were the one people wished they could be.

Walking away from the lobby, one finds the dance floor, situated dead-center of the tower. Now the club begins to look more like what one would expect to begin with: strobing lights, the thumping bass of dance music, tables around the center looking inwards on the dancers. The floor itself was interesting: made of ten centimeter plexiglass, it allowed anyone on it to look down beneath it at the next level of the club. Looking up, one could see that the ceiling of the room is the same, and that every dancer on the floor was beneath the feet of those above. Each level of the club was done in this fashion. There were seven levels, each for one of the seven deadly sins. Like the metaphorical Hell visited by Dante, and unlike the general social architecture of most clubs, the further down the level, the better the cred level -both in terms of the street, and nuyen.

So it wasn't a surprise that the most elite and exclusive place in the whole of the divine comedy which was the Inferno was at the very lowest level. Or, rather, beneath it. The seventh floor down ended in a dark tile floor, with no one beneath to be seen beneath the feet of the patrons. However, in the gloom along one back wall stood a large troll bouncer. He didn't speak to anyone other than a very select few clients. To be such a client, one had to have the right credentials - or know the password.

Walking up to the bouncer, Ashe spoke a single phrase. "Ave, ex infierno." The troll stepped aside and a door opened, permitting her through to the lowest level of the club: Hell. She exited into a small circular room, the center of which was taken up by the horseshoe of a bar with a black marble top. There were a few patrons congregated at one end, conversing softly while the bartender, a tall, blond woman in a white halter-top and faded old jeans slowly cleaned a glass, turning it in her hands around a white cloth. A large-caliber pistol poked out from a shoulder holster, swaying to and fro with the motion of her hands. Her eyes are hidden by chrome covers, and these turned towards the elf woman as she stepped out of the stairwell. They asked a question without need for words or expression.

"I'm here to see Mr. Descartes."

The woman nodded and reaches below the counter-top. Ashe could hear a faint click above the low music in the room, and the bartender pointed to her five o'clock. Nodding thanks, Ashe turned in the indicated direction and found a door waiting for her. Looking right and left, she noted that it was but one of several. The only difference was that others had above them a red light, and the one she'd been pointed to was green.

Pushing it open, Ashe found that whatever she'd expected... it wasn't this.

Dark leather couches were arranged around a central glass-topped table. On the table were an assortment of bottles, some bourbon, some wine, all real. Two large floor-to-ceiling trid screens wrapped around the walls, displaying a serial best known for its absence of anything that could be seen as being in the general vicinity of a what might possibly be called a plot and a gratuitous lack of clothing. Beneath the flickering illumination of these screens, three people lounged back in the soft comfort of one of the couches, two women and a man.

The women were striking: they might have been twins done in a photo-negative. Both were slender, with long, straight hair done in an identical severe cut at the neck. Their clothing consisted of tight, form-fitting leathers, replete with chrome studs and chains. One of the girls had skin so dark it shamed the word black, and wore black leathers. The other was an albino, with skin so pale that she seemed to glow, and was clad in stark white leathers of identical cut.

The two women draped themselves to either side of a man, whose high, silver-buckled boots were propped up on the glass surface of table. Ash could only assume that this was Alton. His eyes looked over the rim of a wine glass from which he was drinking, staring directly at Ashe. If one combined the skin-tones of the two girls with him, the result would be a near match for Alton's own pallid brown. His hair was dark and hung in loose ringlets that screamed spent nuyen, and he wore a loose, white silk shirt, halfway to déshabile, which was in turn tucked into a pair of black leather pants.

With a sigh, he drained the last of his wine from the glass at his lips and reached behind him to let the it fall behind the couch. He motioned Ashe towards him.

Ashed walked into the room, and took up a position just in front of the table. She allowed one knee to bend, and pulled that foot slightly forward, rocking her hip up on the other side to counter balance. She held her clutch down by her side, and draped the other hand across her midsection, resting on the top of her skirt, right where her blouse was tucked in. The was almost disapproving, but not quite. She rocked her shoulders slightly, holding her weight just right to balance in that stance that conveys bored attendance.

"Good evening Mr. Descartes." She said, letting a small smile playing across the corners of her lips, he voice liquid silver.

Descartes' voice was rather high-pitched for a man. Not quite a falsetto but definitely closer to the feminine range than is typical. "Well, well... aren't you grade-A joi-bait?" The girls to either side turn their eyes to Ashe, their manner detached, but... there was something more behind those twin gazes than simple curiosity and chemical-induced detachment. The girl in white, who sat on the fixer's left slowly raised a slender hand and ran it across the man's stubbled cheek. He reached up and took it in his own, bringing it over to kiss the back. The dark haired girl shifted her position, laying down on the coach and letting the back of her head rest on Descarte's thighs.

The man hadn't looked at either of the girls or their actions, but kept his eyes on Ashe's own. "You know, looking you over, I think I'd rather hire you to join our little party here than send you out to get that pretty skin of yours shot up."

Ashe allowed the miniature almost-smile to remain on her face. It was working precisely as she had anticipated. Despite the fact that this was her very first time down in to the depths of Dante's, Ashe was finding it to be much like she would have anticipated.

"I have no doubt that you would, Mr. Descartes. But, as I am sure you have already deduced, if that were what I was interested in, I would have no end of offers. Besides, that isn't the opportunity that I'm here to discuss." She paused for a moment, and let her eyes focus beyond the physical, examining the man's reaction.

His aura was a clear red, with black highlights around the edges. The man was keyed up with aggressive energy... and somewhat irritated at the moment. There were also dark patches stretching throughout his body... he was cybered, likely with a either reaction enhancing or -replacing systems. Possibly both. Despite the abundance of chemicals in the room, he was almost totally sober.

Ashe also noted the man's two companions. The dark girl laying on him was heavily cybered... both arms and both legs had been replaced with machinery. Where her eyes should have been were empty, dark spheres, and a small blemish at the base of her skull said she had at least some headware... a datajack most likely. From the dark striations on her torso, it was dollars to nuyen she had reaction enhancements at least on par with her employer as well.

Her aura was a blurred grey, not unlike the static one would see on a trid screen without input, and shot through with veins of red so dark it was nearly a match for the black in Descartes. She was either very drunk or high... and had a need for something even harder than what she'd already taken.
The pale girl, however... her aura was a sedate, clear blue, changing to bright vivid green. There were no signs of inebriation, and she seemed to be utterly at ease... and aware. She was watchful, and observant. For a moment, Ashe thought she had seen flash of yellow at the edges of the woman's aura... but it was gone so quickly that she couldn't be sure.

Descartes spoke while the mage was taking his measure. "Pity. You don't know what you're missing... and I guarantee you'd have loved every minute. But too late; I only offer once." The girl in his lap reached a hand out to touch his stomach. She said something, but it was too low for Ashe to overhear. Apparently in response, the fixer turned his attention away from the young elf. He reached down into his pants pocket, and pulled something out. He brought one hand up to his mouth and when he took it away there was something there... but it was almost impossible to tell. As an inanimate object, it's astral shadow was too dim and indistinct to offer any clue as to what could be. Descartes slowly lowered his palm down so that it hovered in front of the girl's eyes and her aura flushed in response. It was shot through with strong red highlights, want and desire given visual form. He bounced his hand up and down just a bit, teasing her. Finally, he reached around to the back of her head and there was a soft click. The girl jerked up a bit, then slowly settled back. Unlike before, however, she wasn't still. She squirmed, wriggling like a cat in a sunbeam.

In the astral, her aura lost it's tinge of need, and the static gray was washed away by a torrent of colors, all strong passions.

Dreamchip. BTL: better-than-life. There was nothing harder, nor more addictive. Not alcohol nor nicotine, nor hyper meta-amphetamines or novacoke. Direct neural stimuli, stronger and more intense than anything the brain would every experience naturally. It gave an ultimate high... and was guaranteed to burn up neuron after neuron until nothing was left but a human vegetable.

Descartes wasn't finished though. He took whatever he had placed between his lips and did something with it in his hands. He tipped it down to the woman's lips and seemed to spill something onto them... in the astral, it was impossible to tell. Ashe let her eyes shift back to the physical for a moment, just as the dark-haired man leaned forward and pressed his lips to the girl's. They stayed that way for a long moment, he with his lips on hers as she undulated. After a moment, he raised up again. There were traces of white powder around his lips, and he ran his tongue along them, cleaning away the narcotic.

He set his eyes back upon Ashe, and they were hooded now by a high. "So you wanna work? You wanna play mean in the shadows where the corp eye doesn't see?" His chest heaved, once, with a silent chuckle. "And you want me to hire you to do a job that would make any slick-chrome, serious drek razorboi sell his best chummer just for the opportunity?"

Ashe momentarily ignored his question. It wasn't out of avarice, although he had certainly earned any that she might have wanted to give to him. It wasn't even out of some sort of strange sense of spite. No. Ashe was fascinated, no, fixated, on a sight that she had never even dreamed of seeing before. Not only was she in a situation which allowed her, even encouraged her, to watch another sentient being experience BTL, but she was, somehow, being goaded in to the show. Almost like Descartes had been withholding, intentionally, in order to give her this one singular opportunity to review something that Ashe, among many, would find to be a psychologically thrilling experience. Again, not because there was even the slightest of desire to experience what she was watching. Ashe couldn't have been less interested in it. Instead, she was enthralled in the act, or rather, in viewing the act, as it happened right before her eyes. Further, she was viewing it not in the flesh, as that would have been only moderately amusing at best, but in the astral. The vision, the trideo occurring right there before her was one of the most astonishing, and scientifically intriguing things that she had ever been given the opportunity to witness. As a magician, it was exciting, and interesting. As a magical researcher, and someone who was interested in the interplay between the living world and the astral, what she was seeing was beyond her wildest dreams. Of course, she could have, at almost any time, simply hired a beetle-head to show her, but Ashe wouldn't ever have considered that. This was...

Ashe shook her head, bringing herself back to the task at hand. And, in the process, returning to the physical world. It was likely only the barest of moments' pause between his insinuation, and question. But to Ashe, it had been a lifetime.

"Yes. That is correct." She said, pausing briefly yet again. This "Descartes" man was proving to be every bit as perceptive as she could have hoped. He was picking up on her subtlest cues, even with the weaknesses of the human eye. This spoke volumes for his capacity, and increased Ashe's estimation of the man. Of course, with any fixer, respect was a double-edged sword. Her respect had a direct correlation with her reserve. To put it simply, fixers didn't get to be that intelligent, that perceptive, and here in Hell, by being a nice guy. He required a carefully considered plan, and the finest silk kid-gloves that she had.

"Although, if you don't mind me being blunt: I harbor no illusions as to the capacity of the corporate Eye to see. They see. But they... forget. And yes, I want to run the shadows; I want you to hire me to do this job that 'would make any slick-chrome, serious drek razorboi sell his best chummer for.'" She said, sharing a smile with Descartes. It wasn't one of her previous half-smiles either: She had quoted him, because there was no better way to have stated it. And he earned the credit that she had given him by copying. “After all, wasn't it one of the greatest human philosophers who said "The greatest form of flattery is imitation."? She thought to herself, letting the smile stay on her face for just slightly longer than was necessary. This wasn't flattery, he had earned it.

“'They forget,' huh?” Descartes leaned back, putting one arm over the couch and the other on the albino girl's shoulders. “Drek! If they've forgotten you, you've not been in deep enough for them to bother with. I'm certain that the Azzie's weren't happy when you left, but the fact that you're still here rather than in some dark cell in Tijuana means that they simply weren't hurt or interested enough when you left to bother collecting your sweet hoop.” The man's face split into a nasty grin. “You ain't been in the shadows long enough to have a rep worth forgetting. The only reason I'm even entertaining you tonight's because Jones recommended you to me. That got you in the door; it won't get you the job.”

The fixer's maintained their level stare. “Now, answer me; why should I give this job to you? Why shouldn't I give it to some gillette? I've got dozens of them on my list, each one a blooded killer and more than willing and able to do whatever I need done.” The dark girl continued to writhe as Descartes spoke, her eyes closed and a mindless smile on her face. From the corner of one eye a tear dropped, rolling down until it disappeared in her hairline.

Ashe let her practiced smile come over her features, “Why me? I suppose I could say that I'm much more cultured than your usual 'runner, have had much more practice moving in circles beyond the criminal, and that my skills at managing people and situations are the reason I was recommended to you in the first place. Or, I could say that I have a magicians skills and talents; a rare enough commodity in itself to earn me a leading position in any endeavor. But, I think instead I'll point out that instead of going to any of those gillettes on your list, you put out word to your associates... word which brought brought me to your attention. To put it simply, the fact that I'm here says that you're looking for something more than your average street samurai, with more testosterone than brains, to handle whatever contract it is that's landed in your lap.”

Descartes stared at Ashe, and his eyes narrowed. Then a corner of his mouth twitched, and again, until it pulled up one side of his face in a lop-sided grin and the man laughed. "I knew bringing you down here wasn't going to be a waste of time. Good girl!" He gave a vague motion in the direction of the nearest couch to the young elf. "Take a seat. And pour yourself a drink."

Ashe's smile was a reflection of the one that Descartes shared with her, finally breaking the tension he had been carefully building no doubt. Ashe was no stranger to his techniques, but despite her familiarity, she was not immune to them. Apparently she had performed quite satisfactorily so far, but Ashe knew she would be replaying the whole scene through her mind after she'd left, analyzing her every word, and Descartes' responses, for some time to come. But, let the future watch itself. She had the present to deal with at the moment.

Ashe moved gracefully over to the mini-bar, pulling out a tumbler and searching to see if Dante's had supplied one of her favorite Aztlan specialties. It was extremely rare, but Ashe had grown quite fond of it while she'd been working with them. She grinned widely when she spied the tell-tale gold amongst the various bottles. Taking it up, she pulled the cork, and filled a small glass tumbler with the thick syrupy liqueur
.
"Xtabentun." Ashe said, allowing the word to flow around in the air as she would soon be swirling the liqueur in her mouth. The anticipation was delightful, knowing what she was in for. She could almost taste the playful combination of anisete and honey as they battled for dominance in her mouth. "I don't suppose you have tried this one yet?"
Descartes shook his head slightly, eyes on the woman more than the liquor.

Descartes smiled slightly, nodding, and shifted forwards a bit, nearly dislodging the dark girl from her place on his lap... not that she noticed. He accepted the drink and sipped it. Grunting satisfaction, he drained the rest off in a single go. When it was empty, he allowed the glass to drop to the floor without thought.

Ashe smiled, as the look of satisfaction came across Descartes’ face. She was pleased that he was pleased, as that had been her intention. She went to take a sip of her own but didn’t quite get to it, as Descartes’ pounded the remainder of his drink in one swallow. Ashe did her best not to blink in surprise, and it was fortunate that she had not yet managed to bring the drink to her mouth, or her sudden, intake of breath would likely have caused her some discomfort. Descartes didn’t even pause to notice, it was down to business time for him.

Grinning, he said, "You've got taste. You've got style. And you're able to smile when someone is obviously and deliberately insulting you. Good. That is why I agreed to see you. The job that's come to me will require someone with brains and manners.” The frivolous attitude and wantonness had left the fixer's manner. What was left was a certain intensity, the sort one might feel when looking into the eyes of a venomous snake.

"Have you heard of Maria Mercurial?" Ashe didn't say anything. Everyone knew who Maria Mercurial was. Descartes took his answer from her eyes. "Good. I would have been surprised if you hadn't, but you're a Tir girl, so I didn't discount it." The man shrugged, though the context was a bit dubious. "Whatever. The thing is, Maria's changed agents lately. Conflicts with management or some-such. Her new manager, a piece of drek by the name of 'Foley,' is evidently concerned about retaliation from her former employers. As such, he's decided that the usual sort of bodyguard won't be enough. He wants to hire 'runners... a whole team, if you can believe it."

Descartes leaned back, lounging into the couch, and regarded Ashe with half-lidded eyes. "This contract is much higher viz that the sort of work we usually do... though I imagine it's a bit closer to what you're used to." He makes a 'tch' at this. "But it's also another reason you're a good choice to head the contract.'

'But, enough: you've got the basics. Now: impress me. Tell me what you'll do to satisfy our rich and famous employer."

Ashe nodded. “Well, first and foremost, I believe that this may be a situation in which more magic might be a better thing, for a few reasons... One: it is easy to hide behind a troll. It is even easier to hide behind a barrier spell. If things go wrong, having a skilled mage along for the ride is a very good thing. Two: trolls are easier to see than a spells, and trolls can’t be dismissed once they’re no longer needed. There are some significant advantages to having a magic-heavy team while dealing with rich and famous clients: they like the extra, mystical qualities that a magician brings to the table. You and I both know, from experience, that a gunman and a magician both kill… and a gunman can do it longer. But, magicians are frequently more adaptable than a traditional gunman, since they can be useful in more than just attack situations. Lastly, magicians are quieter. This is good for both keeping the attention off the client, and for the more obvious side of protecting their comfort, beyond just their life.

“I know a shapeshifter who is quite an excellent wetwork specialist. He would be a hell of a teammate to keep close to Maria, since he does great work close up. Also, he is trustworthy, and follows orders.'

'Next, I will try and see if I can’t find some people to take care of the tech side of things. Perhaps a rigger, focusing on back-up firepower, and a pretty big-time Decker, to make sure that we can see any electronic attacks coming from a distance. I doubt that body-guard work is going to be particularly useful to a sniper, so I will skip over that.'

'And, to top it all off, I will be accompanying her personally for the duration of the assignment. If her life is in my hands, then I will be where she is, personally supervising our defense efforts. I am not one of those who likes to run the battle-field from the distance, if you catch my meaning.”

Ashe finished up, finally taking a sip from her drink. She had already been playing with this in her head, but this had finally given her a chance to pull out the thoughts that had been keeping her from getting bored since the meet time and place had been agreed upon. She had some names of people she could trust, more or less, as much as any team. She also had worked with her fixer before, and knew that he would be as careful as she might in selecting the names to send her way.

[color=green]“Now, I have mentioned having a magic heavy defense team. There are some weaknesses that go along with that, weaknesses that most normal 'runner teams don’t have to worry about. On the other hand, there are some rather significant strengths that most 'runner teams don’t have either. I believe that only a team who has been briefed on my defensive capabilities would be prepared to stand up to us. Against an unprepared team, we would have a significant advantage.'

'So, what do you think?” Ashe asked, looking inquisitively back at Descartes.

Descartes shook his head slightly and looked upwards. "Ask an elf..." He turned his focus back on Ashe. "Fine. You're spooky, you want your team to be spooky too. I get it. You wizzes hang together and all that." He reached forward, and picked up a slim, black plastic box. Opening it, he removed a slim cigarillo. The pale girl produced a lighter from somewhere, and held it up for Descartes, who touched the end of his smoke to the heated metal casing.

Smoke escaped from between his thin lips and hung about the fixer's head like a halo. "A shifter, even? You want to bring a fraggin' paranimal into Maria's presence?" His shoulders shook; laughter without sound. "What if she's allergic?"

He breathed out a deep, smoke filled breath, his shoulders still shaking slightly. "Drek. Fine. You go ahead and get yourself some mages. Hell, I'll even okay the slottin' animal. But you'd better have at least a couple of razor-bois along for the ride, so ka? I ain't letting my client get taken down because you want to prove that you mana-suckers have it over a bullet."

Descartes reached down around the back of the dark girl's head, and you hear a 'snik.' The girl goes rigid, then whimpers. Descartes taps her forehead with a finger. "Where's the chip?" The girl looked as though she were dazed, and a thin line appeared between her eyebrows. Descartes shook his head. "Uh uh uh." He waved the removed BTL in front of the girl's eyes, and her expression changed immediately to one of longing. Frantically, she began reaching about herself. After several moments spent looking and growing more and more frustrated, she finally found what she was looking for in a small crys-case clipped to her chain-link belt. Sighing, she held it up in a shaking hand, and Descartes replaced it with the chip she desired.

She slotted it back in immediately, and resumed her euphoric dreaming.

Descartes proferred the chip to Ashe. "This contains a list of my personnel, as well as the LTG of a bank in the Carib League. The account is where Foley will sink the nuyen for the run after you've negotiated the final price. I take 10% and you take the rest. It also contains bios, contact methods, and the like for a number of 'runners who've worked for me or one of my people in the past. Augment whatever connections you have with it, and put together a team worthy of having my name attached." As the elf's slim fingers reached into his cupped palm to pick up the chip, his hand closed around them and tightened. Increasing his grip on her hand painfully, he pulled her forward.

"'My name is attached.' Did you catch that? Did you understand what it meant?" His eyes bored into her own. "Let me spell it out, just in case those great big ears of yours are just for show: You frag this drek up, and you won't have to worry about Lone Star. You won't have to worry about Maria's corp backers. You won't have to worry about drek-all, ever again. Because I'll have your sweet hoop cut up and deposited as cheap parts in every body-shop in Seattle. Wakarimashita ka?"

Ashe winced when the man caught her hand, partially from the pain he caused her and partially in surprise that she'd been caught. Damn. Hadn't expected that! Collecting herself, Ashe made her eyes meet Descartes' own. Letting steel show in her voice, she spoke levelly , in a near monotone. “I do understand. Maria will come to no harm while under my care, of that I can assure you.” She had to fight the urge to sneer as she said it.

Descartes nodded, slowly. "Good. You're a tough girl - I like that." He squeezed her hand tighter until he could see the pain he was causing reflected in her eyes. "But you'd better take my warning to heart; I've geeked slicker wizzes than you before." With that, he released her. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned back, and the ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"If you come through, I'll see to it that your name gets to the right sort of ears -the sort that are interested in a woman who can get drek done." He waited a moment, his expression inscrutable. "So I'd say you should get going. You've barely a week before Maria's concert, and you've a lot to do."

You catch more bears with honey than with smoke... Ashe thought to herself as Descartes sweetened his deal a little bit. Every 'runner in the book would be tempted by an offer to increase their cred with the right people. Ashe managed to smiled back at the man as she slowly drew back her hand and pocketed the chip.

[color=green]"Now that is most definitely something I am interested in." She stated, nodding to Descartes as she stood, smoothing her skirt out over her legs as she gained her height. She then turned and strode purposefully toward the door. She was somewhat wary of showing him her backside, but she determined that if killing her had been on his list of to-do's for the day, he wouldn't have waited until now. So it was unlikely that she would be needing to watch her back at this very moment.

At the door, Ashe turned and gave him her fare-well, tailored to this occasion.

"It will be a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Descartes. And again, as I stated previously, getting "Geeked" is not on my short-list of things to do at the moment. So, you will get my best performance out of this job." With that, she turned and closed the door behind her as she left. On her mind were a myriad of the problems ahead of her... and her hand ached.

---

Ashe sits down, finally relaxed after the harrowing interview that "Descartes" had put her through. She had controlled her face, and emotions, to keep from showing the strain of the interview, but there was nearly no way that he hadn't noticed. He was experiened. She certainly noticed when others were going through the strain that she had been under with "Descartes". It was her job to notice, as it was his.

Well, time to put together the team... Ashe thought to herself, enjoying the solitude that allowed her to speak her thoughts, and hear her self within her walls.
He essentially okay'd my general thoughts... Now I have to do the hard part, and actually bring them in for the job. The pay shouldn't be any issue... I guess the biggest, most immediate concern, at the moment, is availability. That and skill.

Ashe picked up the new cash cellphone that she had purchased that morning, for this very purpose. They called this a 'burn phone;' cheap and easily replaced, its only purpose was to make a couple of calls, and then get thrown in the river. With the phone in tow, Ashe headed out of her apartment for one of the most widely used parks in the city. She wandered around more or less at random while on the phone, making sure that the cellphone towers wouldn't be able to pinpoint any particular behavior or location.

Even when one was only setting up a meeting with a prospective member for a team, it never hurt to take precautions when dealing with another 'runner. After all, one was essentially asking a professional criminal, terrorist, and/or murderer to dinner.

A red light flashed at the top of Taur Aurelion's commset, bringing his attention to the fact that he had a message awaiting his attention. Hitting the receive button, a pleasant contralto voice emerged from the speaker.

"King of Diamonds, I presume? My name is Ashe Galanodel; you may call me Ashe. I was given your number as someone who is highly skilled, and creative, and available for work.'
'Pleased to make your acquaintance. I would like to buy you breakfast tomorrow morning. Shall we say, 10:30 am? I will be at the "Chipped Teacup" which you should be able to find on 7777 South 122nd Street, on the Bryn Mawr Skyway."

The girl had been calling from a outside somewhere: Taur could hear the noise of traffic, pedestrian and motorized, in the background. It had also been brief enough that a trace wouldn't be able to get a location beyond what city she was calling from. Smart girl.

As for the location for the proposed meet, it was near the edge of Downtown, close to where Renton dipped down around Lake Washington. An upscale, new development district: largely corporate sky-rises, with all the shopping and dining businesses that such an area attracted. Nice, posh, and heavily policed by Lone Star. Perfect place for a meet where you didn't want trouble. Security would be tight, since the area was rated AA.

The use of his call sign was an immediate tip off. He had distinctly refrained from ever giving out that name, which meant one of his contacts was slipping. No matter, work meant more hints towards where his beloved Aleanah was. He held the phone in his hand, slipped it over his wrist as he had done so many times before, the necklace of his beloved dangling from its rightful place above his heart, his movements and reflexes quickened by the spell that he had placed in it every morning. With a heavy-hearted sigh, Taur turned on his message system and cued up the last senders phone number, "Lá maith, Ms Ashe. Ye make a humble request, and I shall ablige. Dul leis an grásta an athair go léir?"

His voice held the usual airy Irish brogue that his wife had loved in him, he would talk with her for hours on hours every night until the sun rose and she slept in his arms. Even though it had been nearly a year since her disappearance, he still felt her weight in his arm, yet another reminder of what needed to be done. Pulling up Rourke's number next as he got dressed and settled in his usual armaments, "Rourke, ye have been giving out 'that' name again. I'll commend ye for finding me work, just be careful who hears of it. Any hints, my friend?"

The following day, the ritual continued. With the alarm he slipped on the tools that he would need, and made it about ten minutes early to the meeting, driving or flying would have been much quicker, but walking would allow him to catch more details, and would be less conspicuous. He entered the diner with only catching a few eyes, his arm and long white hair drew a few eyes, along with his pointed ears. The common folk were still fearful of meta's... with good reason. A healthy dose of paranoia can help you when you don't know if the elf is a fanciful wage slave stopping in for a morning coffee, or if he's actually looking for any possible threats, analyzing the room for entrances and exits, and reviewing the quickest ways to annihilate the entire room if he had to.

Taur found the Chipped teacup on the seventh floor of a large corporate residential complex. Not quite an arcology, this sort of building was becoming more and more common throughout the 'plex. They were large, sprawling buildings, which served to provide housing for corporate clients, and were filled with shops and stores which provided immediate access to whatever wares and services the residents needed.

The Teacup itself was a tasteful little cafe, with an open balcony which allowed for a pleasant view of Lake Washington, if one managed to sit at the right table. Taur was so lucky, and called a waitress over, ordering a cup of black soy coffee. He detested anything but real coffee, but appearances had to be kept. He gave the waitress a comforting smile and a thankful nod, and sipped at his coffee as he read the menu, his back to an empty booth as he periodically glanced towards the door waiting for Ms. Ashe. " Cá bhfuil sí?"

- AIIEEEE!! Ashe thought to herself. - I HATE being late! She finished, looking at her watch. She had, at best, 10 minutes to get up the fraggin' elevators, in the door, and order a coffee before she would be "late" officially. And she was still stuck on another call from another one of her "prospects".
"Ok, listen, I am going to have to let you go. Please accept my appology, as I have another engagement to attend at the moment." She said, hanging up before there would be any real opportunity for the caller to respond. She needed to get upstairs, now.

Ashe hurried in, looking somewhat harried about her face and eyes, but the rest of her was none the worse for wear. She was as careful with her dress as anyone, and generally meticulous with her appearance in general. Stepping in the front door, Ashe combined the movement of surveying the current occupants with a deep breath, working the stress out of her facial expressions. She had been pacing the pavement out front to wear a hole in it, and that was no way to appear walking in on her first meet.
Seeing her future team mate, Ashe smiled and waved, wondering if he had caught the movement or not. She didn't wait to see, stepping over to the table, she held out her delicate hand toward the seated Taur.
"Good morning Taur, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard impressive things about you." She said, allowing a smile to come to her face. A warm and welcoming smile. "Please call me Ashe." She finished, taking the seat opposite to Taur. She took a moment to take in the scenery, enjoying his taste in chosen tables. This was a lucky placement here, as this table was likely in somewhat high demand. Too bad for the other patrons, Ashe intended to have a somewhat leisurely brunch with Taur, which meant that they would all have to sit elsewhere...
Returning her eyes to Taur, Ashe asked the obvious first question of any interview.
"So, Taur, tell me about yourself." She said. Such a simple question, yet such a loaded one. Most people didn't have a good practiced answer for it, which was one of the things that made it so valuable a question to ask. Frequently, it would tell her quite a bit about her interview, more by what they didn't talk about than by what they did.

Glanced up as he saw the hurried woman entering the little restaurant in this structure that at one point mirrored his own corporate office, albeit it that was lifetimes ago. His eyes were a cold glacial blue, his face etched from an iceberg, his hair as white as fresh snow. And in all of the people he should be noticing in the cafe, the cook in the kitchen, the waitresses, and the patrons, his eyes were focused on this woman's, they were the same as Aleanah's. Her face was wrong, as was her bone structure, but it was those eyes that immediately kept him from raising any sort of guard.

He rose from his seat, offering it to the Lady as he took the one directly across from her, using his larger frame to block the crowd's view of the conversation. She introduced herself, used his real name, she was obviously familiar with him, much as Rourke had let him know. He stayed silent as he shook her hand and listened to her question. A little about yourself, if there ever was a more loaded question he didn't know of one. He stayed silent, contemplating her words till he noticed the carafe of ice water on the table.

--
Spellcasting
shape [Ice (natural object resistance (1)] force 2
Magic 4 + Spellcasting 5 = 9 = buying 2 hits (non-stressful or combative situation)
drain (F/2) + 3 = (2/2 :rounded down = 1) + 3 = 4
Willpower 5 + Charisma 5 = 4
Effect: drain fully resisted, The volume of ice in the carafe can be manipulated, sustained till further notice.
--

"Mo daor, ye ask me about myself. Don't move." With a small lift of his right hand, his eyes darken from an icy blue, to the calm coldness of a chasm glanced through a glacier. The ice lifted itself and reshaped itself, spinning gradually into smaller shapes, forming a chain, much like a necklace. The continued to spin till the edges were smooth, nearly identical to diamonds. The necklace hung in mid air, just lightly above the table, the view from the crowd blocked as he moved the necklace around her neck, just off of her skin. "Tá mé an rí na diamaint." The diamonds grew thinner and longer, the small chain forming needles that ever so slightly pressed against her neck, not enough to hurt her, he just wanted to give a small demonstration of what he could do. The necklace formed into 3 small flowing streams that winded it's way back to his hand, forming 3 spheres that he rolled around in his mechanical palm. With a soft smile, he calmly asked her, "Do ye have any questions for me?"

Ashe smiled, again warmly, as Taur rearranged their seating allowing for his body to create a modest atmosphere of privacy. It wasn't necessary, as Ashe was perfectly capable of creating that atmosphere herself, using her magic. But it was thoughtful, and she appreciated it immensely. Ashe took the seat offered her, and sat quietly while Taur seated himself. She peered at him carefully, using the time he was taking to organize his thoughts to get a feel for his Aura.
Assensing 4 + Magic 5 = 9 Dice
2 Successes.

The member 'Gala' has done the following action : Dices roll

'D6' :

Seeing little more than his emotional state, which was quite evident to her trained eyes in the physical world, Ashe concluded that her mind was still cluttered from the frenzied rush she had had to make to arrive here on time to be able to deduce anything useful at this moment. She would take a more careful look at some other time, when she had the mental faculties to focus properly.
As Ashe was completing her thought, she was startled and excited by the appearance of a mostly cosmetic use of an elemental spell. It resembled the "Ice Sheet" spell, with which she was familiar, although unable to utilize. However, it differed somewhat in it's composition. She would have to ask Taur to tell her about this spell. She quickly switched her eyes back to the physical world, enjoying the physical manifestation of what she was watching mana weave in the Astral.
Ashe gasped, nearly inaudibly, at the stunning beauty of the necklace that Taur was shaping, and slowly moving forward around her neck. She looked down as it -nearly- settled onto her skin, looking for all the world like one of the most impressive fake-diamond necklaces she had ever seen.
"My goodness!" She exclaimed, quietly, as she studied the necklace. She was both surprised and pleased by what was sitting there before her eyes. Then, as the necklace changed, Ashe was further impressed by his control, although somewhat disturbed by his choice of "interview tactics," to say the least. The smile "melted" from her face, slowly, relaxing back in to the soft expressionless "interviewers" facade that she was quite familiar with.

"That was quite a display. I know my way around magic, but that was somewhat more inventive than most magicians are able to put together these days. At least, with a palpable physical presence." She added that last allowance for the "illusionists" who specialize in being inventive with their non-realities. This was something else, in that it was every bit "real".
"Now that you've shown me what you like to do, tell me a bit about why you do it? I happen to know that the mega's will pay top dollar for someone with your capacity, and creativity, as a full-timer in one of their research labs. You would likely make a fair amount more than you do now. What has driven you to walk the alternate path?" She asked, knowing that it was a very difficult, and highly unusual, question to be asking an interviewee. However, she was enough surprised by the way in which he chose to display his specialty that she felt it warranted some further, more personal, explanation. "And please, feel free to give somewhat more of yourself than you may normally be comfortable giving. I am interested in what I can't find on paper." Ashe added.

"My dear, you ask a simple request, but it is not an easy one." Taur had, with quite a purpose with held his background from most jobs if he could, the fewer people that knew his purpose, the better. He took a moment, concentrating on the floating spheres in his hand.

"You mentioned the mega-corps. I used to run a company back in Eire, it was starting to become much like the corps you see here. Someone decided that we were too much of a threat and we were taken over with extreme prejudice. They killed every single person that they could. But alas, this was a front. There has always been a certain... game, being played. With individuals with somewhat unique talents and mentalities. I was chosen for the King of Diamonds, I was not told, nor did I know that I was wanted. So to push me forward, they created this wipe out of my entire life, my parents, my career, my friends, everyone. I came home, my office in smoke, to see my wife being taken from my home. Screaming and bloodied, yelling for me." Taur's eyes were cast down, but where he was looking at the carafe, frost began to grow on the outside.

"They took her from me, My Aleanah. They cut off my arm, they took away my reason for living. I am become death, the destroyer of worlds. I will hunt down and kill each and every person that had any involvement, I will carve a long and bloody frozen path to every door step till I find her. There was no legal turn back for what I want, no police or lawyers could ever equal the loss of my Aleanah. That is why I run the shadows, because in our dark world, legality means very little, and information is much easier to get, when you don't care how you get it."

Ashe sat back, shocked. She didn't even try to hide it, although there was likely little that she could have done to hide it if she had wanted to. This particular confession was far more in depth than anything she had expected. Truthfully, it was not particularly uncommon among the Shadowrunners, but the shocking part had been his willingness to disclose, so quickly, the details of his past that Ashe sought.
Gathering her composure as much as was reasonable, Ashe looked Taur in the eyes.
"Your story is compelling; and most certainly understandable. I am not the least surprised that you have, in light of your story, decided that walking the path of the Megas was not quite the right path for you. In your situation, I likely would have made a similar decision.
"So, I am impressed by your background, and by the man behind the bio. Tell me, do you take orders well? I have a specific way of doing business, and I expect that my team to adhere to that while working with me. Will that be a problem?" Ashe asked, leaning forward again and making deliberate eye contact. Ashe was definitely more interested, in general, in the subtle approach; but by no means did that limit her capacity to meet the needs of the situation. "Direct" was certainly a tool within her tool-pouch.

Taur eye's showed the smile that was not on his lips. "Mo daor, Following and giving orders is a necessity. I have shown ye that I am capable of being both subtle and direct. I choose not to hide my past from ye, because it would serve nothing to hold back what might become vital in the future. Death and destruction maybe my forte, but it is not all I can do.

"Good. I am satisfied. Now that we have the important tidbits out of the way, shall we order? I promised food, and the food here is more than simply edible." Ashe said, smiling and signalling the waitress.
"Also, have you ever tried real coffee? I have found it to be pleasant, although considerably different than the Soy-based drinks that are so frequently served." Ashe said, expecting that the answer to that would be "Yes." Since she, herself, had been initiated in to Coffee using only the real stuff, she expected that someone with the accent that Taur seemed to be fond of would also have the same set of experiences, in that respect at least. Ashe let the smile touch her mouth, and turned it on the Waitress as she approached.
"I would like the "French Toast" please, from the "Originals" menu." Ashe said, allowing the smile to fill out somewhat on her face as she placed her order. The Waitress, of course, was somewhat used to the use of the alternate menu even if it was a bit on the uncommon side of ordering preferences. In this building it was not particularly rare for someone to choose to spend the extra money for a nice Brunch in such a way.

As soon as he heard the waitress come near, he waved his hand down and the orbs disappeared beneath his hand. In truth, they flowed into crystal clear sheets that hid beneath the decorative scales of his mechanical arm. People were still wary of mages, no need to give this meeting undo stress. "Más rud é nach raibh tú faoi deara, nach bhfuil mé i dteagmháil léi le mo chuid caife soy. I'll have what the Lady is having as well , and a cup of real coffee as well, as black as midnight under a rock on a moonless night please." Waiting till the waitress had left with there order, he brought his hand back up and let the orbs re-materialize and he once again spun them in his palm.

"I didn't know they had an originals menu here, in truth, I hadn't even looked at the menu. And yes, I have had real coffee before, just not since I left Eire. If I may be so bold, What has brought you to the shadows?"

(OOC: Ashe, roll Intuition + Sperethiel – 2 language differences modifier)

Responding to Ashe’s call, a petite young woman in a black tee-shirt and mid-thigh skirt of the staff stopped by the table, a practiced but unconvincing smile on her face. She was very young: her skin was unlined and soft, but had a relatively thick layer of make-up laying on it, presumably to try and cover up the sprinkling of blemishes that managed to poke up from beneath. Odds were, she wasn't even out of her primary schooling yet. Still, she had a digital pad in hand and ready and was congenial enough while performing her duties.

“Are we ready to order?” That practiced smile moved from Ashe to Taur, with that weary but resigned expectancy that was always present in the manner of someone who was performing a low-paid service job. She took Ashe’s order quickly, fingers typing lightly on the pad’s screen, nodding at the woman's choice. When Taur placed his, she looked a bit confused and concerned when he let his Irish show through, but relaxed when he obligingly gave his order in English.

“We do have a Colombian blend, sir. It’s a bit pricey, but I think you’ll enjoy it.” She stepped off lightly off towards the counter, smiling at a pair of uniformed Lone Star officers, one human and one dwarf, who had just stepped through the door.

A few minutes later, the waitress brings over two mugs, setting one down in front of each runner. She opens the smile up another notch then disappears behind the counter again. The fragrant aroma of the Colombian coffee wafts up, immediately bringing both elves to a greater degree of wakefulness. Good stuff.

Roughly ten minutes later, the main course arrived, as it were. The hot, heavy smells of the cooked food was enticing, and promised to be worth its price. The french toast was still sizzling, and slathered in syrup, butter, and cinnamon. Bacon sat alongside it, and the smell and taste was such that it was nearly impossible to tell if it was real or a soy derivative. The waitress also left behind two small cups, one full of honey (or similar fructose sweetener) and cream (again, either the real thing or close enough -food corps were getting good at using cheaper materials to accomplish the same end.)

"Lemme know if you need anything else. Please enjoy your meal." She left as quickly as she came, drifting over to the cops, gracing them with the same smile she'd offered Ashe and Taur.

Language Test: 1 Hit
Ashe looks up, enjoying the different accent as he speaks to her so much so that she didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. Cursing to herself slightly, Ashe focuses in on Taur more closely, trying to listen in as the sentence comes to an end.
"I suppose I don't mind, although my story isn't anywhere near as fascinating as yours. In a sense, it was a somewhat natural career progression... Strangely enough. I used to be a corporate "Deal Closer" in the Human Resources side of things. I would make sure that targeted employees were comfortable with their new arrangements. I realize that my wording allows some room for interpretation, but in my book, there was none. And when my employer decided that they would take some liberties with the interpretation of my job description, I quit.
"Anyway, I had to put food on the table, so I got into the club scene, keeping parties flowing smoothly. The club owners quickly realized that I was worth far more than I charged. Needless to say, it didn't take long for Fixers to start taking notice and wondering if I might be good on their side of "business" as well." Ashe sits up a bit, considering the story she had just told. As bland and boring as it was, the strangest part of it is that it is true. And that's what makes it interesting.
Ashe decided to continue her silence when she saw the Waitress return with the coffee. When it arrived, Ashe did what any coffee aficionado would have done. She took a deep whiff of the wonderful brew, enjoying the aroma as it played games with her taste buds on the back of her tongue. She was so engrossed in enjoying it that she hadn't noticed the two Cops coming in the door. In fact, if not for the fact that she was about to thank the Waitress, Ashe likely would have missed them completely. She paused slightly, perplexed at their entrance, but decided that it was possible that they were here for legit business.
"So, you see, it was a strangely natural career progression. I wasn't driven to the Shadows, in a way, I was invited." Ashe finished, looking at Taur to see if he had any particular reaction.

He noticed the police officers enter the room in the reflection in his orbs, he kept a disarming slight smile on his lips as he thanked the waitress and looked towards Ashe, listening to her story as intently as she listened to his. Turning off the thermal sensors in his mechanical arm, Taur turned the orbs back under the draconian scales, hiding them from plain view as he withdrew the knife and fork from the cloth napkin, setting the latter in his lap. "We are all drawn to the shadows, some walk it of their own accords, others kicking and screaming."

He took a sip from the coffee, it was quite delicious compared to the soy supplicant that had taken its common place. "Breathe deep, seek peace. Ye are just buying a house today, nothing to be to worried about." His sapphire eyes held hers for a moment, trying to push what the cover would be if anyone came to ask any questions.

"The good stuff, right?" Ashe said, smiling as she enjoyed his enjoyment. It was genuine, and Ashe was most definitely the kind of person who appreciated when someone else was in to their coffee, or whatever they happened to be working on at that moment. Ashe took a brief peak in Astral, enjoying the colors of Taur's aura as he was enjoying his coffee. Figuring that now was slightly less of a "high pressure" moment, Ashe decided to take a closer look at Taur in the Astral.
3 hits
Peering carefully, Ashe tries to work her way through the layers of complexity that any Astral Signature will have surrounding it, and more so for a magically active one. To make matters worse, Taur was apparently continuing to hold a spell of some sort, which can be distracting when Ashe doesn't have her full attention to focus in on his Aura. Fortunately, for a moment or two, while Taur is focused, Ashe can take the time to focus on his Aura, and really take a good look.
Just for safety's sake, Ashe takes a quick peek toward the two cops as well. She did, after all, need a reason in case Taur had noticed her brief "absense" for what she was up to. And that was plenty enough of a reason.

Pulling back to the physical world, Ashe takes another sip of her coffee, before turning her attention to her food. The coffee was the best part, but the food was no slouch itself. They really did a good job with the Chef here, and the food was either real, or really high quality fake. Since diet was not a particular restriction for Ashe, this wasn't something that she had to be particularly concerned with. - Well, other than red meat, of course. She thought to herself as she daintily pushed the bacon off to one side.
"Would you be interested in my share of the bacon? It doesn't agree so well with my stomach..." She said with a pleasant smile. It would be a shame to see it go to waste, even if there was no way she was going to touch it.

After she was finished eating, which was sooner than Taur, since she had significantly less food to deal with, and a smaller appetite to appease, Ashe sat back in her chair and rubbed the slight bulge in her flat stomach with satisfaction. She loved the taste of the real "French Toast", although she was somewhat curious about why they called it that.
"So, you seem to be both competent, and most definitely one of the people I am looking for. I am curious to know if this is one of those "too good to be true" situations." She said, allowing one of those "I am testing you" smiles to creep onto her face. She paused for several moments, wondering if Taur was going to attempt to respond to her statement. Also to let him finish chewing, since she was starting in on another rather "involved" topic, and it would be polite to allow him to finish up before she forced his attention back on her.

The waitress had her back to Taur and Ashe, digipad in her hand with one finger poised over top of it, ready to jot down the cops' orders. Her pony tail bobbed as she spoke to the human cop, a tall, dark complexioned man. His navy blue uniform and black bomber jacket were clean and neat, and it was obvious he'd shaved this morning. His companion, however...

Well, the dwarf officer looked like a walking biohazmat disaster. His skin was a ruddy pink, his hair a dirty, matted red. His cap fit poorly on his head... likely due to the rather stiff red bristles that were trying to push it off of his partially shaved head. The hair of his... beard, if that was what you could call the mass of facial growth that looked as though it were trying to devour half his face, was likewise thick and wiry, and spread out in all directions. His uniform looked like it had been tailored... and then he'd shot said tailor for doing too good a job, and proceeded in an attempt to undo the craftsman's good work in whatever means he could without actually ripping or cutting the thing. The only parts of him that seemed clean were the chrome of his forearms, visible beneath the rolled-up cuffs of his uniform shirt, and the matching eye covers that wrapped around his digits and the bridge of his nose.

The human was paying careful attention to the girl trying to take his order, his lips moving smoothly as he spoke in words too low for the two runners to overhear out on the balcony. The dwarf, however, had locked his gaze (well, his evident gaze: it was sometime hard to tell where someone with covers was looking, exactly) on the tabled couple in question.

With a gentle smile, Taur decided to keep the conversation light. The officer's were not there for him, or at least, not yet. "Madame, a situation that is 'too good to be true' too often is. However, there will always be the exception that proves the rule, It is up to ye to decide if this is a dream or if this is reality. And yes, Ms. Ashe, I would gladly assist you, no need to waste good food." He extended the spare plate to her, beside it he laid his signature card, the king of diamonds, face down of course.

Ashe accepted the plate, and the accompaniment, graciously. She daintily relocated the bacon slabs onto Taur's spare plate, making sure that not even the smallest crumb managed to escape her "relocation" efforts. Smile, and admiring her meat-less plate, Ashe handed back Taur's spare plate, now filled with a few of the finest looking, likely real, bacon.
Ashe continued to enjoy her meal, eating in that slow, Sunday morning brunch way. She chewed each bite thoroughly, sometimes closing her eyes to really take in the flavor. Occasionally she would follow a bite of her French Toast with a sip of the real coffee.
"I think I like the flavor of french toast with just a bit of the Coffee finish." She said, conversationally, continuing their current mode. She took another sip of coffee, leaning back in her chair, currently satisfied with her meal. She had finished most of it, but there were a few bits left over on her plate. She took her knife and fork, and arranged them on the plate, tines down of course, such that both the tip of the knife and the tines of the fork would point to the 2:00 position on the imaginary clock face of her plate, and the handles of each were held up off the plate face by the rim, and pointed to approximately 7:00 on the clock face. To a good service outfit, that would signify that her meal was completed. Ashe reached down in her lap with both hands and pulled up the napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth, and remove any last vestiges of the meal they were sharing. She returned the napkin to her lap, which again to a good service outfit would signify that her use of the table was not completed just yet, and that she would likely be interested in either further refreshments, desert, or both.
Ashe glanced back over toward the two cops, just trying to get a feel for where they were, and what they were now up to. The dwarf had an uncomfortable interest in her, or their table, and she was somewhat curious as to why.
"I think I've decided what I am interested in asking you to do. But the timing isn't quite right. Let me first say this: my task, the one I have in mind, should be completed in such a way as to preserve the lives of all who are involved. My guess is that that will be a suitably more challenging to an effective, and significantly accomplished combat specialist such as yourself. At least, from what my background on you suggests." She paused in her short speech for a moment to gauge Taur's current reaction.

Perception roll to attempt to identify Taur's physical response queues. Perception: 2 hits
Assensing roll to attempt to link those queues to his emotional responses. Assensing: 4 hits

The waitress' body language was becoming agitated, and her hands moved animatedly, in quick jerky gestures that spoke of nervousness. The human cop was frowning as he spoke now, and the dwarf was holding the focus of his gaze, whatever it may be. The man reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed his badge, flipping it open and holding it in front of the girl's eyes. She took an involuntary step backwards, her arms wrapping around herself as the badge filled her field of vision. Looking over top of it to the glowering visage behind it probably didn't help put her at ease.

The restaurant quieted, and many of the patrons of the cafe began to get up and leave, pausing only long enough to pay their checks hurriedly. The waitress before the cops stood stock still, speaking in reply to whatever questions the tall officer was asking of her. Finally, when only a few tables held customers with bravado enough to stick around in a place where the long arm of the law was reaching remained, the officer jerked his head in a perfunctory way, and the waitress hurried behind the counter, where the rest of the staff had gathered.

"Ahh yes," Ashe said, calmly putting her hands in her lap, and making eye contact with Taur. It was probably more than evident to him that she wasn't actually paying attention to him, but that her eyes were on him so as not to be on the police men.
"It looks like the timing just got "right." And now it is time for me to see what you can do. Here is the situation:" Ashe leaned forward to Taur, getting close enough that she could lower her voice to a bare whisper.
"Behind you are two police officers. My intuition tells me that they are not here for coffee. I would like you to find out what they are here for. You can accomplish this first task any way you like, but remember that you must preserve the lives of everyone involved.
"Once you know what they desire here, I will turn the initiative of the situation over to you. I am interested to see how you deal with this without specific direction, except, of course, that you must preserve the lives of everyone involved." Ashe said, allowing a small smile of expectation to come across her lips. She could think of several ways for her to solve this particular incident within her mandate, but her challenge wasn't for him to do it her way, then he would be redundant. Fortunately, because of her particular abilities, it was unlikely for this situation to get out of her control, which made it the perfect opportunity for her to give Taur a bit of opportunity to solve this one his own way.
"What do you think?" She said, as a sort of completion question, sitting back up and allowing her peripheral vision to take in the position and body language of the cops again.

"That is a very appropriate remark, and in fact, I would be able to tell you that. They are not." Ashe smiled pleasantly, watching a very interesting situation come to fruition. What ever these two cops were doing here, they were intent on her table for some reason. She was quite intent on finding out what that reason was. And even more importantly, it was surprisingly convenient for the Universe to have provided her with the perfect opportunity to test the teammate that she was interviewing. Ashe was fascinated that he had turned to "team play" immediately, and pleased. It was a shrewd move on his part.

The human spoke to his partner, a single short line, and the two began walking towards Ashe and Taur. The dwarf had his hand on his weapon, which was a bit too long and wide to be a normal pistol. The other still had his badge in his hand.

They stopped a couple of paces away from the two seated runners. The man looked at Taur and said, "We need to have a conversation with your friend here. Why don't you make yourself scarce, chummer."

The dwarf didn't say anything: his chromed wrap-arounds were fixed on Ashe, his face stony. But his knuckles tightened around the grip of his weapon enough to elicit a sound like stretched leather.