Past Tense, the second IC

Were it not for Soren's incredibly tight control on his outward 'tells' the news the letters were enchanted actually surprised him and caught him completely off guard. He'd not expected that one, that was something he was fairly certain was relatively expensive to do compared to what they were for and he didn't know enough of magical theory to actually know what that could even potentially mean. Of course as an Adept he knew there many, many things that could be done with magic, yet there was so much more he didn't know. Still, even being outwardly unflappable didn't completely protect him from potentially giving something away as he wasn't even sure what sort of question to ask from there that he could even pretend he knew that information anyway. "I must ask then, as my compatriot here." he says indicating Bishop as if he'd known the man for years. "Brought up the matter of the letters, and the supposed age of the item in question, is this thing magical in nature or suspected of being such? If it is it's important we know in case there are certain additional precautions we must undertake to safely move and store it. I'm sure we are all at least somewhat familiar with the sorts of things that can happen with enchanted items among other things of a magical nature." not that he would entirely trust the J's response at the moment but it seemed important to ask, hopefully in a way that wouldn't offend.

Etiquette 6 Hits, Negotiation 5 hits

The Johnson pauses for a moment to eat a few bits. He doesn't show a reaction to the inquiry yet. "I love the way how the cook keeps the steak juicy yet well done." He smiled. "You are right, the letters were enchanted Mr Bishop. Just a precaution, I assure you." He sounded honest to Bishops ears.

"And yes Mr Soren, the artifact might be magical. Or maybe not. We have to wait to be sure about that." The Johnson took a sip from his glass. It held mineral water. "Anyway, the scientists handling it have not found any trace of magic on it yet." The entire time, he seemed completely calm and unfazed. "So, if it holds magic, it has not showed itself yet. The risk, in my opinion, is negligible. Although if you happen to find out more about it, I would appreciate shared information."

Twitch let the smooth Orc, and the Magic Elf keep on talking, they were doing a pretty good job of extracting info from the Mr. J. All this Magic and negotiation stuff was way over his head, it didn't really matter what the Job was, his role was always the same: Be an extra pair of eyes (an pistols) when needed, otherwise stick to the background tasks. Fixing vehicles, First aid, whatever is needed.

Raising his hand he signaled the waitress for another drink, In case anyone had been counting this was the tenth double he had had, and was beginning to feel just a little tipsy. Stupid 'wares, he thought, makes it so hard to get a buzz.

Lin raises a hand "Before I agree to anything Mr.Jonhson id like to know..how much time are we talking about after the first contract..how long will we be in your service...as you no doubt already know i am a man already engaged to a cause and cannot afford as many hours a week to work for you as I suspect the rest of the people here."

The Johnson looked at Lin. "I am sorry to hear that. The length of your assignment is not perfectly determined. But my best guess would be at least a month, maybe more. Depending on how good you are, and how successful. Maybe we can establish an arrangement regarding your other commitments." He said hopeful.

"Well, that settles most of the questions I have at this time." Soren said after some silence as he casually ate and drank, listening to the questions others brought up. "I'm in." he'd pushed as far as he felt reasonable to do so, gotten most of the answers he'd wanted, and honestly he'd gotten a bit more intel out of the whole deal than he had actually expected and a most reasonable timeframe. He suspected this J had been involved with jobs like this before, but couldn't be sure. At the very least the time frame for the job was as wide open as it could be given the circumstances and that meant the team could plan and adjust as needed, do plenty of recon of their own and come up with a good solid plan. He liked things that way, rather than barging in guns blazing. Of course barging in guns blazing was sometimes the best option, depending on who or what you were dealing with. He looked around at the others to see what their reactions were but he suspected by this point most everyone would get on board.

"I would be sorry to have let you go Mr Liu. Nonetheless, if your duties don't allow for a longer term commitment, then it might be best to find a replacement." The Johnson sounded regretful. ""However, if possible, I would like you to participate in the test run. One can never know what the future brings."

Bishop gazed consideringly around the table, lingering longest on the smooth-talking ork, then on to the Johnson.
"I'm in," he said at last, his expression not hiding the fact he still had reservations, "but there remains much to discuss. Primarily, does this museum have magical security? I can sling a few spells, but I'm next to useless when it comes to spirits."

He surrepticiously checked for any negative reaction from the group to his revealing his nature as a magician.
Visually checking group reaction= 4

Twitch leans forward and says, Why don't we head back to my place. Some of you may have heard of my clinic in the Emerald City. I suggest we use it, and hey while we're there I can give y'all a pre-run physical, and 'ware check. I'd like to be sure that the guys who are watching my back are in good health, and their 'wares aren't glitching.

Standing up, Twitch looks back at the rest of the team, C'mon now don't be shy, I promise I'm not a mad scientist, Mua! Ha! Ha!

It took a moment for the Johnson to reply to Bishop. It seemed he was focused on his meal, but then he looked up. "I have not heard of any magical security on the island. The exhibition is interesting, but there are no treasures of gold, so security overall is not too strong. Nevertheless, even I tend to overlook things. If you want to make sure, you should investigate yourself." He smirked. "As confident as I am in my own research, nobody is perfect."

"Not exactly reassuring," Bishop asserted, "but if its the best we've got to go on..."
He let his words hang in the air. They all knew the score; running the shadows was risky at best, life-threatening at its worst, and, some would no doubt say, foolhardy always.
"Worst case scenario," he went on glibly, "we get inside, a watcher spirit or some such warns either another, bigger spirit or its summoner who then calls in a bigger, nastier spirit to use us for toothpicks."

As he spoke Bishop raised a hand toward the fold-out the J had placed on the table.
(Levitate: Spellcasting 6 + Magic 5)= 4
Resist 4 Drain: (Intuition 3 + Willpower 5)= 6
The fold-out rose about an inch or so above the tabletop and then flew horizontally, retaining its stretched out shape, across to Bishop's waiting hand.
The dark elf held the display and peered intently at the image of the statue.
Memorize Statue= 5
In addition to memorizing the photo, Bishop also captured the image via his contact lenses and stored the file on his commlink's memory.
"I may be able to track the artifact, in a limited fashion admittedly, should the need arise," he told the group.
He let the fold-out drift back to its original position. Immediately after, one of the credstiks moved toward him in the same manner, only to quickly disappear, though this latter was due to a convenient pocket and not psionics.

Soren ate quietly as the others spoke and eyed the mage rather critically at his blatant use of magic. Twitch's comment drew his response first however, given that the man had already previously spoken. "Could work chummer, though I've no need of a physical. Not the sort of thing I trust people with on a first time basis." with the continued use of magic for (what he considered to be) trivial reasons his attention turned back to Bishop "Hope your not gonna be slinging mojo all over the place for the heck of it while on the job. Great way to draw seriously unwanted attention and get yourself geeked."

Bishop grinned at his newly gained ork partner over steepled fingers. He really did enjoy how his talents always seemed to make others uncomfortable.

"Just demonstrating my talents for the sake of our little group here, chummer. If I was always so indiscreet as this I'd be long incarcerated by now. You have no need to fear me drawing undue attention."

His little show of power over, Bishop contented himself with listening to the remainder of the negotiations...and watching.

Cougar shook his head at the mages antics. He didn't need to be working with a couple of showboats, as that had proven to be a bit of a pain in the ass. He was one, and quickly learned not to be one. Let's get to the matter at hand, shall we? We need to figure out three things: How well this place is guarded, what would be the easiest route to take to grab the objective, and how can we guarantee that we will make it out. I'd like to have at least two functional plans for grabbing the item and extracting ourselves from the area, and I'd like them to require as little noise as possible. Do we have a decker around here somewhere?

The Johnson spoke up: "A decker will be on the team. But she is not here tonight. She is finishing another job right now but she will be with you. Tomorrow I think." He continued to eat his meal. "If there are any more questions, please ask them." He smiled. "If you would like to finish your meal and start planning without me, please say so either. I will not be offended." He gave Cougar a knowing look.

"Before we get ahead of ourselves," Bishop said with a glance at the 'I want' ork, "we'll need a better idea of what we're up against. No offense to Mr J here-" this with a nod to the Johnson "-but we've got next to nothing to go on."

The dark elf pushed his chair back from the table, stood, gave a respectful 'employee-to-employer' bow to Mr Johnson, and then prepared to take his leave. He had places to be and people to see.

"Since we'll be working together, you all can call me Bishop. I've got some legwork to do. "I'm sure you chummers have...associates...you'd want to contact. Our esteemed Mr J has generously provided ample time for our task, and I for one intend to take advantage of it."

To the human who offered his clinic to meet up, he said, "I'm not much of a day meta, but beam me your address and I'll be there. Say tomorrow around evening-ish?"

Charisma 5 + Etiquette 2 = 4 hits

"I agree, we should probably actually do some reconnaissance of our own before we even attempt to do any actual planing. What we have is a good start but I think it's best if we get some actual folk in the area. Ideally we need to be able to get in and out undetected meaning we need to pay close attention to what else is around the area, what kind of crowds the place attracts, what sort of stuff the locals tend to wear, so on and so forth." Soren pointed out. "I would suggest we poke around, find a place to rent in the general area and go from there."

Twitch nodded to the Dark elf, and listening to the talkative Orc, he nodded again. he quickly tried to rack his brains for a way to help out. Unfortunately most legitimate establishments didn't need the services of a Street Doc, feeling a little useless, he shrugged.

I'd love to help you guys with the whole recon thing, but most legitimate establishments don't need my... services, and I a pretty useless on covert things. But hey we can use my clinic to plan and all of that, best i can do. just give me a sec and I'll beam you the coordinates. I'll warn you ahead of time its a little bit rough of a neighborhood, and if the gangers give you any trouble just tell them that you're there to see Doc Twitch, I'll let them know you're coming.

With a quick little bit of typing Twitch beams all of the team members his address. Then turning to the Mr. Johnson.

You can send the Decker my contact Info.

Standing up, Twitch grabs his bag and starts heading towards the door, at the doorframe he pauses.

Unless there is anything else anyone wants from me?

After swapping commcodes and agreeing to meet up the following evening to exchange intel and begin the planning phase of the mission, Bishop left the private party room. As initial interviews went, he felt this one had gone pretty well, despite a hitch or two in information sharing. Johnsons were notorious for being stingy with the details - a typical job hazard - but something about this obviously magic-oriented J's reluctance to discuss the topic of magic set the dark elf's 'trouble-sense' to buzzing.

So, reaching his car a few minutes later, Bishop accessed the vehicle's onboard computer, confirmed one of several routes suggested on the basis of time of day, projected traffic density, and urgency of trip, then set the Pilot to auto-drive. He usually preferred manual control, but he had contacts to call and he didn't want to lose the time it took to get across town before doing so.

"Trip confirmed," the Pilot program said in its 'passenger friendly' voice. "Please fasten your seatbelt."

Bishop groaned. He was all for the advances in computer and software technology, but he didn't like being told what to do by them. And he knew that the vehicle would not move an inch until he complied, so he belted himself in, resisting the urge to offer the Pilot a few choice words which it would neither comprehend nor give Bishop the satisfaction of being chastised by.

As the Spiral pulled smoothly out of its slot, the dark elf gave the mental command via his trodes that brought up the communications ap of his commlink. Cycling through the list of new messages, looking for anything that needed immediate attention and finding none, he stopped on the name and commcode of Task, his fixer, and opened a voice message.

"Its Bishop. Got the job. So I'll be unavailable for more work until further notice. And Task, thanks. I owe you one."

He sent the message with no special Urgency rating. This way his fixer would know without having to listen to the message that it was not an emergency. Task would understand the unspoken aspect of the message; that Bishop knew what a break he'd gotten on the deal, and that the bill would come due in time.
He also realized that his performance on this job held more than just the prospect of future missions from the current Johnson. Though he was a relatively small minnow in a big pond, if he glitched bad enough on this gig, it might reflect on his fixer's rep, and that would be bad...real bad.

Having just eaten, he put that thought quickly out of his mind. Dwelling on unpleasant consequences like fragging up a job he just got was not only pointless, it was counter-productive. So instead, he put his mind to considering the mission parameters. Since the statue they were being hired to swipe might have some magical properties - if by no other reason than their J's use of magic - he was at this moment on his way to see Aesop, a talismonger Bishop had dealt with before. The man might know something about the statue itself, or know someone else who might know. That was the real value of contacts; they were friends who knew friends, who knew friends, who knew friends...the web was never-ending.

Bishop settled back in the seat and let his mind work as the vehicle carried him closer to the first stop on this new road he was on.

As the Spiral efficiently maneuvered through the Seattle streets, Bishop's thoughts drifted randomly, as they often did when not focused on an immediate task. He wondered what life must have been like before there were such things as wireless connectivity, bio- and cyberware, megacorps, etc. Take metas for instance. He could not imagine a world where everyone looked the same. Aside from the sheer boredom of looking at the same kinds of people day in and day out, how must it have been to live in a prejudice-free society? How could they have known racial hatred when they were all alike? Not like today, what with Taminis Policlubs and other separatist groups spreading their poisoned propaganda all over the 'Trix and stirring up fear and hatred.
And the space! With a total global population of only six or seven billion...they all must have had room to spare. He'd seen some documentary trids of those old days when men rode around on horses and women were all 'saloon' bartenders. Those trids always showed wide-open vistas of untouched, undeveloped land. Could that have been real? Or was it just trid FX?
Then another thing that had once not existed occurred to him, this one much closer to home...psionics. That gave him a jolt! No talent to manifest one's will on the world? He quickly shook his head to clear the thought away.
Then a grin tugged the corners of his mouth as he thought of all those so-called "magicians" who blathered on about mana and lodges and formulae. Could they not understand that real power, and the courage to wield it, only came from force of will? Why did so many need to hand over the credit, as well as the responsibility, of generating such power to some other factor or force? The metahuman mind and will held incredible potential to create. This was a long-standing and well-known fact. Why then was it so difficult for some to make the same connection to psionics?
Even when he first manifested his talent, Bishop knew instinctively that it was he alone generating the power and nothing else. Not only did the power respond to his will, but he could feel it well up from within him. How could it be anything other than himself?

Outside, the sprawl streets flashed by, unaware and uncaring of the lives that began, grew, and too-often died young on and around its boulevards, sidewalks, and alleys. Here, a corporate wageslave hurrying home from a long day at the office stepped over a dirty, homeless squatter without so much as glancing down to see the unfortunate was the same chummer who'd recently occupied the next cubicle.
There, an upper management exec's spoiled kid, rebelling against his father's dreams of one day handing the business over to his son, and trying to get initiated into a local gang, grabbed a bag-lady and her three-wheeled shopping cart and hustled them into a nearby alley, only to be gunned down by the bag-lady's hold-out pistol.

"You have reached your chosen destination. Before exiting the vehicle, please be sure to collect any items you need for your visit. Have a pleasant day."

The Ford's synthesized voice brought Bishop out of his reverie. He peered around in surprise. He had not even noticed the vehicle pull off the street and park.
"At this rate, it won't be long I'll get mugged by an old lady-" he chided himself, stepping out, "-an old lady with a wooden leg and a walker."

He crossed the front walk and enterred the shop, a bell somewhere inside dinged. Bishop sneered at the items displayed on the shop's shelves; bottles of various-colored liquids; bottles of oddly-textured substances; a myriad of leaves, petals, twigs, herbs, plants and their individual parts; a multitude of bird, insect, and animal segments; a plethora of candles and incense; and more bric-a-brac than he could name had he the inclination to try, which he did not. It was a talismonger's shop, and it was the antithesis of everything that Bishop believed about his talent. The only reason he ever came here was as now...information about 'charged' items.

"Greetings, Aesop," he called out to the shop owner, a gray-haired old elf with the winning disposition of a goblin with the MADS.

Behind the sales counter stood an archway hung with strings of beads. At Bishop's call the beads parted and the old gray elf in question entered. It was instantly evident that he was not pleased to see this customer. He favored Bishop with a grimace that only resembled a smile by the slight upward curving of the lips.

"So, dark one," he said, his voice thick and gravelly with age, "still denying your true aspect?"

Bishop rolled his eyes and offered the talismonger his own grimace. "Let's not take up that old argument, shall we?"

Aesop slowly raised his arm and pointed a gnarled, boney finger at Bishop. "The Gaiasphere will not long suffer your childish arrogance, whelp!"

Bishop pressed two fingers on the bridge of his nose and gave a sigh. "Look, Aesop, we'll just have to agree to disagree. Do you want to know why I came to you? Or shall I go see Sebastian?" He knew the name of Aesop's estranged son would get a rise out of the old spellslinger.

"That ingrate! That-that upstart! I rue the day-"

"All right, all right! Nevermind, I came to you because I know you've been 'channeling mana' longer than anyone alive...except dragons, of course."

Aesop tugged at the folds of his robes with fierce indignance and glared at Bishop from beneath lowered eyebrows. "What is it? Come come, I have not all day for your foolishness."

For the next hour or so, once Bishop had transferred an image of the artifact to Aesop's node, the two elves searched through the talismonger's database of magical items, comparing similar statues, perusing through possible enchantments, and discussing the potential value of the piece in question with their heads together in front of the display monitor like old friends. Neither was aware of the night passing away outside the shop.

(Darkon: I'm not sure if I roll the contact's tests or you do. However, it is late, I am 'story-burned', and if you want me to roll I will do it tomorrow.)

Soren regarded Twitch a moment, debating if he should say something or not but eventually decided to speak up. The man seemed to lack confidence in his usefulness yet Soren could already see at least one way the man could still be of service. "You know, there's more to reconnaissance than ninja like skills and high tech gear. There's also the rather handy old fashioned way in this case of simply buying a ticket and wander through the museum. You might even find you learn some interesting things on the side and while your legitimately looking at the sights, you can also simply make a mental note of where you see security guards, cameras, drones or other devices. Even if you don't really know how to spot those things specifically you may still see something others might miss. Given that we have a month to complete the task I see no reason why we shouldn't drop through a few times under the guise of normal tourists."

Now that's an interesting thought, Twitch said, thinking it over for a second, but people like me get noticed easily. Some people out there even think I'm not human just because I'm Albino, but even the more tolerant ones remember me. I ain't good at disguises and whatnot chummer, I'll just stick to patching y'all up John shrugged uncomfortably, and turned to leave.

Making his way outside, John signalled a Taxi, it was a shame that he would have to tap into the job payment, just to pay for a ride home... with a sigh John gave the taxi an address about ten blocks away from his house. The 5k credstick had plenty left by the time he hopped out, but somehow even the small fee made the credstick feel lighter. Twitch still felt a little useless, but it paid to be careful, the others were better at sneaking around then he was, a child was better.

Well maybe there will be a patient tonight, he thought cheerfully, at least then I can be useful. With a sigh, John walked the rest of the way home.

Soren took one of the primary payment credsticks, as well as the one with the extra money he had negotiated for. The latter he'd save for the team, such as it was. As he watched Twitch go he started to wonder just how useful the guy could be if he simply insisted on finding every excuse to be dead weight. Well, maybe he simply needed to speak with him further, some people just were not comfortable at all outside their own little world and Twitch seemed to be one of them. The others at least seemed more inclined to actually try to find something useful to lend a hand to, so that was something. Finishing his meal he excused himself from the table, passed out a contact number to those still present and headed out, casually making his way out towards his bike and keeping an eye out as usual for trouble. Times like this he lamented not really knowing anyone any more. Some of his old chummers growing up were now sitting in jail, others were dead, yet more he simply stopped talking to a long time ago. With nowhere else to go for the time being, he simply started off home, using another long and windy route, keeping an eye out for any tails before finally arriving at his tiny apartment.

On the ride home he started to consider what his options were, in the end he realized the answer simply was 'not much' until such a time as the team actually went somewhere on location. From there they could start getting a better idea of what gear they would need, acquire it and then hopefully get the job done properly. As he made his way up the stairs, he started to wonder if he shouldn't look into getting a proper job for once. 5k wasn't bad, but over a month it wasn't really all that much either. Still, it was a start and maybe the other follow up jobs would pay more, or so he hoped as he started to strip out of his bike armor and slip into something more comfortable and casual.

With that done, he set himself to the task of trying to dig up and look into all the details he could manage to find on this item they were supposed to steal, as well as further information on the museum itself.

After almost two hours, Aesop shrugged. "I can't find a match for this particular figure in my talis archive. But look here."

He called up a matrix magazine concerning archeology. The article showed the same figure, or one very much alike. Furthermore, the text said it was "found in a salt mine in the austrian alps. The making is celtic of the la Tene period. Fabrics and tools found nearby seem to confirm it. Dendrochronological anlysis of the tools wooden shafts close the date to roughly 100BC..." And then: "The exhibition currently resides in Seattle, UCAS. Don't forget to get your souvenir. A bronzecast replicate made with authentic techniques! A must have for every hobby archeologist."

Aesop grunted. "In that time, there was no Mana. How could it be magical? Why are you asking all these questions anyway, darkling?" He eyed Bishop suspiciously.






Soren was able to find the same article.