IC: The Sky is Falling - Prelude

[Loremaster Arivs]

06:07:54 GMT, October 27th
Fast Fax News

The UCAS Weather Service has confirmed the reports leaking from Imperial Japan that Unzen Volcano in the Shimabara Peninsula on the island of Kyushu has exploded in a Class 5 Eruption. Unzen Volcano, which covers much of Shimabara Peninsula, has erupted in several areas, with the majority of the activity taking place around Fugendake, a mountain on the eastern part of the volcano. The cloud of dust and smoke obsures most visual contact with the city of Shimabara, which rests at the base of the volcano. Unconfirmed reports have made mention of a tidal surge in the bay, as well as the eruption causing damage as far away as the outlying suburbs of Nagasaki, nearly 50 kilometers away. Stay tuned to Fast Fax News for updates as new information is found and confirmed.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Kitsuko walks in the door of her apartment, securing the deadbolt firmly. Apartment C-11 in the Longwood Vista View Apartments is really no different from the rest of the low-rent apartments in the complex, save for the high-speed Matrix connection, the wireless network, and the variety of electronics strewn about the place. The infrared sensor on her Sony CTY-360-D detects the presence of her home-based wireless network. The cyberdeck beeps and connects to the Jarranax 1030 Wireless Network Hub, triggering the daily download of news articles and trideo programs on her Renraku Artiste Trideo Entertainment Unit (TEU). As she sighs and feels the tension bleed from her shoulders, Kitsuko hangs the holster containing her FN5-7C on the coat rack near her bedroom door. The Pulsar and her 360-D are quickly laid out on the console desk near her Artiste TEU.

Striding towards the bathroom, the Asian woman turns the pseudo-ivory handle towards the right, letting the shower slowly turn the room into a sauna. As the water slowly reaches a warm temperature and the room begins to fill with steam, Kitsuko lets out a tired sigh. The TEU beeps as it has finished its daily download. Just another beautiful day in Longwood, working to shut down the pimps, pushers, and freaks. The messages and news can wait. I know that Halfpence doesn't have the materials to finish the wiring for this place yet, so there's no rush. But at least Gregory Dobson won't be putting together any more of his "artistic" films. Shutting the door on the night, the depressed atmosphere of Longwood, and her concerns, Kitsuko begins to disrobe. There's few things a good steaming can't wash away.

[Wildfire]

The day had been long, frustrating, and in the end only mildly not depressing. An hour, a day, a week, time trickled down the drain like the water pooling at her feet, and she could almost feel Yukiko drifting farther away. Catching herself affecting her sister's cynical look made her chest tighten, being called by her name hammered home the fact that no one knew where she had gone. Sitting in the corner of the shower, Ameko bowed her head and turned her thoughts instead to the meditative rituals and calming prayers of home.

45 minutes later she finished her shower, and her apprehensive inspection of herself, and collapsed onto the small couch, queueing up the news with apathy. The first headline made her heart stop. Unzen, they'd gone on vacation there once, Lee's sister had a timeshare there. Frantically scanning the other news before discarding the routine, she sent agents out to grab all the info she could find, and tried to bounce into Nipponnet, unsurprisly being rejected due to node overloads. A quick call confirmed that the phone relays were at their limit too. She scanned and read reports while monitoring a news nodes chat room, her only conforting thought was that Chiba was a long ways from Kyushu.

[Loremaster Arivs]

It starts as a low, dull roar, leading Ameko to glance out the window to see if the West End Rippers were riding their cycles through the complex again. It ends with the floor shaking, the windows shattering inwards, and the ceiling sprinkling fine dust all over the apartment. The minor cracks in the structure, the loss of power, and the sounds of of dishes crashing to the floor in the kitchen only confirm that the quake's epicenter is probably in the Oakland/Berkley sprawl, on the north side of town. Far enough from Ameko to cause minor damage, but close enough for her to realize that Oakland just got hit hard.

The illegal power tap that Halfpence installed a few weeks ago pays off. Without lossing service, her lighting and Matrix connection kick over to the backups. After spending a few minutes cleaning up the glass, and locking the hurricane shutters closed to cover the now open windows, Ameko settles into her usual post-quake cleanup routine. Nearly 15 minutes have passed when she hears the sound byte, just catching one key phrase.

...centered in Oakland, somewhere between 54th and 60th streets, the damage is extensive...

"1411 East 60th Street. Halfpence." Ameko can hear Yukiko's voice as she speaks to no one but herself, using a flat, emotionless tone to cover her distress. The eruption in Kyushu missed her home and her family. However, the quake here in San-Fran may well have wiped out one of her sister's surrogate family. Someone once told Ameko that life is measured in seconds. Cities can be wiped out, lives changed, families killed, new life born, and love lost or gained...all in a matter of seconds.

[Loremaster Arivs]

The slide slams forward, attempting to move a round into the chamber, to be expelled through the pipe. Of course, with no clip present, such an event does not occur.

Cazador sets the Predator III on the table, admiring the Dominican flags on the grip for a moment. The maintenance on the weapon finished, the elf slides a full clip home, placing the weapon in the holster which hangs from the coat rack. With the post run maintenance and cleaning complete, Cazador stands slowly, walking away from the desk in his bedroom. His left shoulder aches quietly, reminding Cazador to be thankful of Sawbones' skill. Who knew that those Seventh Seal soldiers would be able to get their hands on MP-5Xs with APDS rounds? If that shot had been accurate, I'd be nursing a busted heart instead of a sore shoulder. But I'm not, I've been paid, and the kid is safe.

Having just scared off against the new gene-hating cult in town, The Seventh Seal, Cazador feels the satisfaction of another completed job flow through him. As he settles into the recliner in the living room, he turns the Media-Monolith trideo unit on. The news of the eruption in Japan flashes across his screen, followed by the reports on the subsequent quakes in San Francisco, and the major one in the City of Angels. Remembering that Johnson had left for business in Los Angeles, the elf begins to see the pictures of extensive damage to the city as the fires begin to spread.

[Lekkarion]

Rolling his shoulder around in the socket, and hearing the familiar sound of it crackle back into place. A mental note to get something good for Sawbones this Christmas, his work was good, even if you did have to listen to him drone on like a used car salesman trying to get ya to buy something else. The pain would probably be gone in a day, at least the kid was alright though, and a few rascist bigots would have something new to talk about "elf-kind".

It was a lazy afternoon, the thrill of the run fading behind him, always a good feeling, because it meant you were still alive to enjoy the next run through the shadows. Leaning back in his recliner and kicking his feet up on the table, he found the remote. One thing that wasn't very interesting usually, the fragging news was on, and it seemed to be nearly every channel. This had to be important. Turning up the volume, the reports of a volcanic eruption had just rocked Japan. Further stories were coming in from Cali, huge quakes had just ripped through that region as well. It was all kinda usless, till the one in LA came on the screen. Talk about the damage was extensive, and the pictures seemed to promote that feeling as well. Then it hit me, Johnson was there, he had a business meeting about some "corp" dealing down in LA and had just gotten there a little while ago. Gritting my teeth, I jump to my feet, and find my wrist phone on the desk where I had just been sitting. Punching in the number without really having to think about it, <i>I know that probably the lines are busy</i> Cazador owed too much to Johnson to just leave him out in Cali if he was in need of help

[Wildfire]

Ameko felt the haze of shock flowing, felt herself jump from the couch and bolt down the stairs to the Eurocar while the rational part of her took control and the emotional part was left to drift and not interfere. Disbelief gave way to denial, and denial to acceptance of reality. When she caught up to herself, she was halfway to Halfpence's place, praying that he was okay.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Halfway there, and halfway home. The choice was clear, but it wasn't the choice she would make. The Japanese Imperial Marines had the blockades up already. No entrance in or out of the Oakland sprawl, even with the proper permits. It was also no help that she had forgotten the fake ID that Halfpence had prepared for her.

With a numb feeling in her body, Ameko turned the Eurocar around and headed for home. As she was making the hard right around the last curve of the exit ramp, her salvation was found. Her cell was ringing in the seat next to her. Slowly picking it up, it clicked in her mind that the number on the caller ID was one of Halfpence's satelitte phones.

I didn't lose all sense of reason thankfully, since I at least remembered my primary ID and the cellphone.

[Loremaster Arivs]

The busy signal was not unexpected to Cazador. What wasn't expected was the ringing that occured after he hung up, intent on redialing.

The caller ID identified the number as unknown. The number itself was known to the elf though. It belonged to a blind relay that only Cazador, Johnson, Reese, and Abrams knew about. A sort of emergency communication option when you were working from an unsecured line and needed to make immediate contact.

The phone rang again, now well into the second ring when Cazador's mind finally cleared enough to figure out what exactly was happening.

[Wildfire]

With a practiced ease, she drove the car home and answered the phone. "Kitsuko, hanasu(speak)."

[Lekkarion]

Cazador was half way to getting on the phone to Abrams for a ticket down to LA. Then his wristphone rang. It was a number known to very few of his friends, only himself, Johnson, Abrams and Reese. If something bad had happened and you didn't have any other way to get a call out, one of the other three would be able to at least answer that number. Flipping open his phone. And with almost a bit of baited hesitation.

<font color="red">Hello, Johnson, is that you?</font>

[Loremaster Arivs]

With a practiced ease, she drove the car home and answered the phone. "Kitsuko, hanasu(speak)."

"I'm glad all you slant-eyes ain't pricks, girly." Halfpence's voice is strained, but intact. He's obviously in a moving vehicle, and not on his usual phone, since the microphone is picking up the background noise.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Cazador was half way to getting on the phone to Abrams for a ticket down to LA. Then his wristphone rang. It was a number known to very few of his friends, only himself, Johnson, Abrams and Reese. If something bad had happened and you didn't have any other way to get a call out, one of the other three would be able to at least answer that number. Flipping open his phone. And with almost a bit of baited hesitation.

<font color="red">Hello, Johnson, is that you?</font>

"No worries. I am intact. How's the home front through all this?" Johnson's voice maintains his natural distant tone, as if he is experiencing life with a sieve keeping out the detritus that is human existence.

[Lekkarion]

With a sigh of relief, <font color="red">ojala jefe, que toda esta bien con tigo. Well, for here, this wasn't much, not even a shake or a quake really here. Just business as usual. I take it you got una problema down there. Just from what I'm catching on the vid.</font>

<hr size=10 width=100%>

OOC: forgot, probably not everyone speaks spanish:::"Thank god, boss, that you're alright."

Just following Wildfire's suit

[Wildfire]

"Hafupensu! Yokata desu! Watashi wa kurushimushite..."* in her relief, Ameko slipped back into Japanese before conciously thinking to switch back to English. "Nevermind, you are alive." Hearing the background noise she paused. "Are you safe? Reesu, he is in Seattle, and the rest, have you heard from any?"


*Halfpence! I'm glad you're okay! I was worried...(and I won't type the accent of her english except for names, its just implied)

[Loremaster Arivs]

"It's a bad situation down there right now. Thankfully, my business wrapped up early. I'm currently en route back to Seattle. Once I've had some time to take care of matters on the home front, I'll get in contact with you. Keep an eye on your mail, Cazador."

Johnson's voice sounds a bit less strained, as you hear the sounds of turbines begin to whirl up to speed in the background.

[Loremaster Arivs]

"Reesu's doing fine up north. And at the moment, I'm fine. We've holed up for the night. But things are bad out here, Kitsuko. I think it may be time for some vacation in colder climates."

Halfpence's voice is cut out for a moment by the punctuation of gunfire. The vehicle he is in seems to be intact, but the sound of shells bouncing off the exterior is easily recognized by the Asian woman. The dwarf's rough voice expresses his thoughts on the situation clearly.

"Fucking bangers. I hate these fucking bangers."

[Loremaster Arivs]

The ship finally comes to rest against the docks, as the gangway is locked into place. Captain Sheena Manuel shakes her head, glad that the journey is finally over. The sea was way too rough out there, with all the shaking around the Ring. I'm getting too old for this shit. The female ork strides to the edge of the ship and looks out at the Yellow Lotus members swarming onto the ship to unload the cargo she has brought for them. The Triad reps were on their way up the walkway now, intent on paying the captain for her trouble and settling up on the debt they owe her for the transportation of the goods. These guys are real pricks, but they pay well, and their cargo is easy to come by. I shouldn't complain, but I get real tired of the 'my dick is bigger than your dick' routine. One last time, Sheena baby, then you're out.

[Loremaster Arivs]

The man sits in the small compartment in the bow of the ship. Unmoving, unresponsive, and uncaring; his movements are slight and minimal. If one was not looking closely, one might almost believe him dead.

The monk strides past the Lotus Shrine, ignoring the stares by the residents of Seattle who gawk at him. The path leads past the Towering Spike in the Sky, moving onwards to the Iron Eagle mounted on top of the Dark Cathedral. Following the path, the man follows the Ironwood Road, noting the thick forests of iron and wood trees growing towards the fading sun on each side of the trail. In the middle of the Ironwood Road, past the corral for the metal horses, awaits the warrior. The man's next opponent awaits him.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Jacking down the redline on the engine, the Westcar swings around in a suicide powerslide. Barely keeping the wheels even, the pure force of the car's velocity begins to catch up. The back tires begin to lift as the horrible feeling of an uncontrolled roll reaches the driver's stomach. The sound of multiple bells ringing reaches the driver moments before impact.

"Huh? I haven't hit yet. Why the bel..."

The phone continues buzzing in Jason's ear, as his mind finally begins to awaken and activate from his incredibly deep sleep.

[All-Out]

The sheet-wrapped and still moderately asleep form of Jason Remick rolls over onto his back, cursing quietly. The phone continues to ring as a stray thought wanders through his sleep-fogged brain.

"Ah hell, even my dreams are over budget. This had better be that damn fixer."

After several attempts and three more rings, his hand finds the phone and picks it up, his voice deeper than normal as he speaks into the receiver.

"You woke me up. This had better sound very good."

[Wildfire]

Ameko nods on instinct, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Should I stay here, or should I meet you somewhere?" The thought of being cutoff from the only people she knew on the continent was a bit frightening, but if they were in danger, joining them wouldn't help anything, either.

[Lekkarion]

"It's a bad situation down there right now. Thankfully, my business wrapped up early. I'm
currently en route back to Seattle. Once I've had some time to take care of matters on the
home front, I'll get in contact with you. Keep an eye on your mail, Cazador."

Johnson's voice sounds a bit less strained, as you hear the sounds of turbines begin to whirl
up to speed in the background.

He smiled, <font color="red">No problemo amigo. It's good to hear that you're still around and kicking, figured it would take more than a simple little earthquake to erradicate a man like yourself. I'll be here when you get word to me, now you watch out for los drajons, sometimes nature tries a second time.</font>

If Johnson had anything else to say, Cazador would listen attentively, but somewhere in his mind, he knew a run was coming. Natural disaster strikes, someone will take advantage of it. And those people pay good, usually.

[Lo Fong]

Lo Fong opened his eyes and looked off to the left and smiled, keeping his head bowed. "I have found him." he spoke aloud, as if to someone unseen. He waited for a response that he knew wouldn't come, a little disappointed he walked towards the cramped bathroom and looked at his handsome visage in the mirror. The cold, light above the mirror didn't do him any justice, and he looked himself up and down.

Slowly, meticulously, he began unbuttoning the silk Fu Manchu outfit he had been wearing while traveling the Canton Confederation. Hong Kong Free Enterprise Zone was his last port, and he could barely get away with the clothing he wore there. Mainland was different...time stood still in the smaller villages. People didn't move with the same speed as the rest of the world. It was in that traquility he found many fighters to challenge. But now...now he had to move out into technological decaying mess that was contemporary society. He was now forced beyond the boundaries of his world to search for worthy opponents.

He had bought clothing, he had restyled his hair in Hong Kong. He would fit in.

"I will change clothing..." he said a-matter-of-factly to his unseen conversational partner.

The last button was undone and he opened the shirt revealing his chest. He spotted the scar of the Floral Palace lotus brand on his left pectoral, and he felt betrayed yet again. It had been years, but still the deceit was something that was enough to make him ill.

"...I will fit in." he finished.

He took his time getting familiar with the new clothing, a rough pair of trousers, blue. Black, high boots, with chrome clasps reaching half-way up his shin. A tight fitting black t-shirt made from rough cotton. There was a small icon embriodered in the front of the shirt. And a short, bulky, sleeveless vest of a tough, plastic material. Very heavy, most likely armoured, blue. And he wore a tight string of polished, wooden beads that gave of the sweet scent of the trees that grew outside of his home village.

"I can never go back there, you know? And that's all your fault." he said in an accusatory tone as he looked at himself in the small mirror again. He took some of the sticky substance he saw others put in their hair, and followed the instructions the hairdresser had given him.

She was beautiful. She smelled nice. He should've had her when she was done with his hair. She would've liked that.

He gave himself one final look when he was satisfied by the long spikes he had sculpted in his hair and smiled. "I wouldn't have had it any other way." He walked out of the cabin, moving towards the deck.

[Loremaster Arivs]

The man walks onto the deck of the ship, greeted by a light breeze that bears the sharp tangy scent of metal and oil burning. As he ascends the final steps to the deck, his view settles upon the female ork who appears to run the ship. She stands with three well-dressed men clearly from the HKFEZ, each bearing the tattoo of the Yellow Lotus. The two sides are clearly arguing over a briefcase on the deck of the ship, located directly between the two groups.

Without a word, the youngest member of the trio lashes out with a hand, imbedding his fist in the captain's stomach. Withdrawing the blade from her gut as she falls to her knees, the blond-haired man whirls around, drawing the blade across her throat. Glancing over the side, the assassin drops the knife into the water far below. Content that the crew has not noticed anything, he motions his two companions to take the suitcase and head down the ramp. As he reaches the top of the ramp, he looks around one last time, noticing the stranger on the deck. With a look, and a nod, he walks down the ramp.

[Loremaster Arivs]

"Things are not good Ameko. We need to get out of here. Colonel Saito has gone haywire. He's starting to send troops into Berkley to round up metas. His superiors have told him to back off, but he's not listening so far, blaming the metas for the quake some how. In addition, the Sons of the Purity have decided to take out every meta they can find in Oakland. We're going north, girly, and I think you better come with us."

Halfpence grunts for a moment, then shouts as he has clearly taken out one of their pursuers with a lucky shot. "Stupid bangers."

[Loremaster Arivs]

"No worries, Cazador. My ride is leaving now, so Mother Nature's ground-based fury is no longer a concern. We'll speak soon. I'll give you a time to meet me when I'm landing, then we can review some future business. Watch your back. Business is picking up."

With that, Johnson disconnects, leaving Cazador alone once again in the mystery that Johnson tends to leave behind.

[Lo Fong]

As he reaches the top of the ramp, he looks around one last time, noticing the stranger on the deck. With a look, and a nod, he walks down the ramp.

Lo Fong, upon seeing the group goes to lean up against the side of the steps, resting his elbows on the banister, casually looking at the spectacle unfolding. As the blond haired man nods at him he offers a faint smile and a nod in return. He's been around thugs long enough to know the way of the underworld. Apparently the way of the shadows here wasn't any different from the way of the shadows back home.

Lo Fong looks back towards the descending staircase, as if expecting someone there. "I will fit in." he says with more determination and makes his way towards the ramp.

[Loremaster Arivs]

"Shove it, Jase."

The voice of Sergeant Stephen McCaffery greets Jason's ears. As usual, he's chewing on a toothpick, not caring how it affects his speech.

"You sleep too long anyway, fuckhead. Now get up, and quit whining."

[All-Out]

Jason heaves himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as well as chasing the last vestages of that damn dream out of his mind.

"The day you put me on the Star payroll is the day you can order me around McCaffery. Now did you call me for a reason, or is this just a courtesy call? And if you start reminiscing about the 'Good Old Days When We Were Kids,' I'm going to come down there and kick your ass... wherever you are..."

[Wildfire]

Ameko took in the news. "Soka...I will gather my things and meet you...dochira desuka, nan gi desu?, ah shimata, I can't seem to stick to English, gomenasai, where should I be and when?"

[Lekkarion]

"No worries, Cazador. My ride is leaving now, so Mother Nature's ground-based fury is no longer a concern. We'll speak soon. I'll give you a time to meet me when I'm landing, then we can review some future business. Watch your back. Business is picking up."

With that, Johnson disconnects, leaving Cazador alone once again in the mystery that Johnson tends to leave behind.

And that was it, Cazador absently picked up one of his Predators, tucking it in the back of his waistband. It was good to hear that Johnson was alright, and he figured there'd be a job in this for him in the not too soon future. He'd probably get a call from Abrams as soon as Johnson was ready, and the news trid was still playing scenes from the terromoto, it was bad alright. But at least nobody he cared about was out in it anymore. Openning a small box of cigars and pouring himself a large glass of brandy, the clink of the ice as it spun around in the glass as the amber liquid poured in. He spun it around slowly before downing the drink. Lighting up his cigar, he went back to watching the trid, maybe something else interesting would show up.

[Loremaster Arivs]

When a warrior first enters training, he learns how to truly walk. It is a skill that few citizens will ever truly master. A warrior will walk, completely confident in his step, never faltering or missing a step by his own error. Even on difficult terrain or unreliable ground, a skilled warrior will walk confidently without needing to focus his attention on his movement. His focus is on the environment around him. His senses tell him of the situation he is in, and about the events going on around him. By mastering this simple activity, a warrior has given himself a weapon already. His footing is sure, and his stride confident. If nothing else favors that warrior on that given day, at least he holds this in his hand against Fate.

Lo Fong knows this, and lives by lessons such as these. Today is no different. The journey passes by quickly. The denizens of this dark, dead city called Seattle ignore the outsider as he strides through the veins and arteries that make up the transportation grid. Those few brave enough to walk into the warrior's path quickly step away, shaken and disturbed by the projection of this man.

The Lotus Shrine he seeks is a disappointment, a vertiable affront to the culture of his homeland. It's nothing more than a gaudy restaurant. Not surprisngly though, the visions are rarely absolute in their accuracy and honesty. Moving on along his path, he follows the street named after a late 20th century queen of the United Kingdom.

The Spire is not exactly that. It is more accurately a needle seated atop a circular dish, rising into the ash colored morning sky. It is a work of art, but it is still nothing more than another abuse of the power found in modern technology. Vanity for vanity's sake. Beauty to fill the empty lives of these vassals. Yet it is still a cold, dead beauty.

The Bird Atop the Temple is a true curiousity. Somehow, a living bird rests atop St. Jerome's Cathedral, encased in stone and magic. Staring at the giant bird for a moment, the warrior pays homage for a moment to the oddities of this Awakened world.

Seeing the skyscrapers, or "thick forests of iron", Lo Fong thinks of the forests around his home. The Iron Wood path is truly that, a road bearing the name of Iron Wood. The warrior continues his journey, approaching an immense parking lot filled with vehicles on his left. The corral.

[Loremaster Arivs]

"Promises, promises, speed-freak. Look, we need to talk. Pronto. Trust me, it's worth your while."

McCaffrey coughs for a moment as he lights one of his foul Dutch Masters cigars.

"How soon can you be down at George's Steakhouse on 14th and Avondale?"

[Loremaster Arivs]

"Soon. Get your things ready, and I'll be back in contact with you soon. Once we've secured an out, we'll need to move quickly. I'm sorry for this Ameko..."

Halfpence's voice trails off for a moment.

"We'll find her. You know that. We will find her."

[Loremaster Arivs]

Cazador sighs. The news bears little new information, rehasing the same media clips, figures, and interviews over and over again. The island of Kyushu is in bad shape, and San Franciso is close behind. The world is on fire tonight, and it's going to get worse.

[Lekkarion]

Cazador sighs. The news bears little new information, rehasing the same media clips, figures, and interviews over and over again. The island of Kyushu is in bad shape, and San Franciso is close behind. The world is on fire tonight, and it's going to get worse.

Pretty damn obvious that there wasn't anything he could do tonight, in fact, watching the limited footage on the trid was getting boring. Just the same pictures of destruction played again and again, with different broadcasters commenting on how bad it all was. Things burning, and buildings collasping, but nothing really all that important. He sighed and stood up, walking to his fridge, and getting himself a couple of beers and something what was left of his meal last night, when he got too anxious about helping that kid. It was always the same, night before a run, too many nerves to be hungry, which meant there was usually something interesting to eat cold the next night. Cracking open a beer, and moving the cold Bandera Dominicana around on his plate, the meat was cold, the beans had solidified, and the rice was crusty. Nothing better after a run, a world disaster and nearly losing an old friend, than cold left-overs.

[Wildfire]

Ameko was silent for a moment. "Hai, we will. I will be ready when you call."

With that she hung up the phone and began packing and dismantling. Everything in the small apartment could be packed into her two bags or disposed of. She got rid of the disposables first, a meticulous process attended to with to eye of someone who was accustomed to loking for telltale traces of occupancy and trails. Left with only her personal things, she filled her 'tech bag' first, a bag designed soley for holding her deck, her credsticks, her cables and her guns. The odd shaped bag slipped over her shoudler an secured in such a way that she could pull her pistol while wearing it, and it did not inhibit her movement. Everything else went into a large duffel, clothes, hard copy files, everything.

In just under a half hour, the place once again looked like a run down unused but servicable apartment. She couldn't do much about the power taps except hide them. Maybe she would be back here someday, maybe not. She sat in the silence and waited for Halfpence's call.

[All-Out]

*Jason grumbles a bit, thinking about the many factors involved in crossing town.*

45 minutes McCaffrey. That's with traffic. Unless you don't mind me smelling like I just came from the Barrens, which would involve me not taking a shower. Take off ten minutes for that.

*With a smirk, he continues*

But rather than offend that dainty nose of yours, I think I'll take that extra ten minutes and clean myself off. See you in 45.

*Without waiting for a reply, Jason hangs the phone up. 8 minutes later, he is downstairs, starting his Ford Americar, all reminants of his night out at the Wild Ride, a rigger bar in southern DownTown Seattle, gone, except the strange, persistant stickyness on the bottom of his boot. With the dual clicks of cables being sent home, he is ready to roll, his VCR connecting Man to Machine in perfect symbiosis.*

[Lo Fong]

Lo Fong comes to a comfortable stop on the sidewalk next to the corral. People spill around him like water as he stands there, a rock in the surf. He looks off to his right, at the people walking passed him. Interestingly, most of those who pass close to him shiver involuntarily and some are visibily shaken as they offer him a quick glance of concern. Lo Fong smiles his cold, thin smile and offers a slight wink to some of them, his inhuman beauty disturbing them even further.

"You should really be more careful, old man. You're scaring the cattle." he said as he turned towards the corral. With his right hand he stopped a young ork, dressed in black and silver, about to pass him and pushed him back into an older man with a seventy-nuyen haircut. He ignored the shouts he got as he cut through the crowd towards the corral, like Moses through the Red Sea, like his ancestor Sun Yat Sen through the Mongolian Hordes.

He reached the entrance gate and stood there for long minutes resting against the coarse ferrocrete base of the carpark. He looked up, as he started to murmur a twisted and modified version of a chant he was once taught at the Floral Palace, seeing ring after ring of the tall building's multiple stories and knew that he had to find his way up to the top. He closed his eyes and put his finger to his lips. "Shh. Be silent, old man. I'm trying to concentrate." He continued with his murmur and slowly shifted his weight to his right foot. The murmur became faster and less audible, until it was nothing more than his lips moving.

Suddenly Lo Fong broke into a run, into the carpark, running up the ascending ramp that ran in circles up, and up, and up, all the way to the top of the building. Meanwhile he passed rows and rows of parked cars. Dodged and jumped over onrushing cars, trying to make their way back to the streets below. He ran and ran, until his heart seemed ready to explode, but the pain fueled his determination and he pushed himself further, guided by that unrelenting voice inside his head.

"Aarrrgghh..." he gritted his teeth as he came to the last in-door level, he looked beyond and saw light coming from up the following ramp. "...leave me alone, old man!" and he pushed himself through the last corridor, avoiding a large sleek looking car, coming down, ignoring the loud honking. He pushed himself into the sunlight, a novelty in this neighbourhood and only found on the tops of tall buildings like these, and he slowed to a walk.

Pushing himself into the light, into the open air, the wind, was like being reborn. Like a new start.

He could never go back. He breathed heavily and looked off to his right. "I hate you, old man." he said with a sneer at the realization, and started to walk slowly along the parked cars on the roof of the carpark. He let his hands glide along the metallic surfaces of all the cars he passed, meanwhile looking for his next challenge, his next victim.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Ameko sits in the silence of her home for the last several months, thinking over the path her life has taken. From the detective investigating the crimes against the populace to the spy masquerading as another person, she has played the roles that few are willing to, dealing with the monsters of humanity's creation. Her reverie is broken by the sound of an electronic chime.

"Ameko...it's time."

The voice is not the voice of Halfpence that she is expecting. Instead, it is voice she has not heard for some time, save for in her dreams. It is the voice of her other half, Kitsuko.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Jason smiles as the Americar comes alive, displaying the sensor feeds and systems status reports for the vehicle. The scanner picks up the local traffic stops, though only for the standard patrol cars. Jason smirks. Even the Star isn't foolish enough to broadcast the location of their spy drones and unmarked cars on frequencies that aren't encryped heavier than a metric ton of dragon dung. But knowing McCaffery does pay off at times.

The Americar rolls out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic. Taking 86th down to Concord Avenue, Jason rolls onto I-113. The drive starts out simple, as the rigger glides through traffic with ease, letting the wire do the driving.

It's not until the interchange at 81 that the problems begin. The first problem is the black Lexus tailing Jason three cars back. The second is the four Banshees that scream by him on his left hand side, slewing around in a decelerating slide. The Reavers have set up their normal nightly roadblock, harassing commuters on their way home from work for a few minutes until the Star arrives to chase them off. They must have found some "killjoy" chips in their stash today, since they're running a more violent pattern than normal. Passengers are being pulled from their cars and braced, while two of the ork "co-pilots" have begun to work their way down the line of cars in front of Jason firing into the interior of the vehicles at random.

[Loremaster Arivs]

Lo Fong walks, his fingertips brushing the hoods of the cars, as he hears the vehicle slow to a halt several spaces behind him. Without looking back, his senses tell him what he needs to know. A large passenger car, at least 4 doors, with some type of modified engine, by the exhaust. The front two doors click open and closed, and the sound of boots on pavement resonates in his ears. The rear door on the far side from the warrior opens and closes, and he now hears the hollow click of high-heeled shoes on the pavement. One set of boots stops and turns towards him. Ah, here, the prelude begins.

"You seem lost, friend." The voice quietly reaches his ears in formal Mandarin. "This is a private place, and I doubt the owners would look so kindly upon your contact with their vehicles."

Again his senses tell him the story. Shorter than the former monk, stocky, Asian male, most likely born and raised here in this city. Either Vietnamese or possibly Korean, well filled with the electric wires and oil of machinery. Without even seeing his soon-to-be opponent, he knows the measure of the man he will soon face in combat.

[All-Out]

Son-of-a.... don't these people have better things to do? Smuggling BTL's or something?

Disconnecting from the Americar, Jason reaches under the dashboard and pulls an Ares Predator out from it's hiding spot between the normal wires, and pushes a button. He then reaches over and opens the glove box, then pulls out the interior, the molded plastic box coming easily free since the latches that replaced the standard screws were released by the button.

Tucking the pistol into his waistband, he pulls out a flash-bang grenade from the "secret" compartment that was no more than the normal space under the box, which he reseats. From under the rear bench seat, Jason, now slipping into the All-Out aspect of his personality, pulls an M22-A2. He checks the safety and sets the assault rifle to "Burst" before stepping out of the car, the rifle in his left hand and the grenade in his right.

Without a word, or even a sound, his Wired Reflexes kick in. He turns toward the group behind his car and throws the flash bang at them, the pin dropping to the pavement as he turns and switches the rifle to his right hand, taking aim at the closer of the orcs. The bark of the three round burst from the weapon is drowned out as the flash bang does what it was made to do.

(( If the first burst shot does the trick against the first orc, then he shifts his aim to the second. If not, then he takes another shot, then moves on. Once the two orcs are down, he'll look to see what the other gangers are doing. ))

[Wildfire]

Ameko was silent. The number was secret, Halfpence didn't store it anywhere. The connection was secure, it faint steady tone as it had connected told her that. It could be her, it was her said her heart. Her mind disagreed. It had been months. And now, right after the quake? Her mind screamed 'no, a setup'. "Da re?" she barked into the phone, a good imitation of her sister's voice. "Hyoudeu, nan desuka?"

While she asked for her adopted team's private signs over unsecure connections, the word in Japanese carried with it the extra meaning of emblem or symbol, and if it truely was her sister, she would know what she meant. They were twins, and when they were younger they played at being each other so often, their mother once drew henna kanji on their foreheads, proclaiming Ameko 'Dawn' and Yukiko 'Dusk' so that she might easily tell them apart. She waited, heart hammering in her chest, for an answer.

[Lo Fong]

Turning around slowly, and sizing the man up, Lo Fong slowly starts walking towards the guard dog. Taking slow and deliberate steps, keeping his hands to his side, and avoiding making any sudden movements. Mid-stride he looks off to his left in an annoyed way, and mentions for someone unseen to stay out of it. "Shut up, old man. I know what I'm doing." he hisses.

His cautious approach interrupted, he suddenly comes to a halt, and let's his shoulders droop in mock disappointment. He sighs hard, puts his arms out in a questioning way and asks: "Are you going to bark, little doggy..." he says as he starts sneering.

"...or are you going to bite?"

[Loremaster Arivs]

The rigger watches in slow motion as his reflexes kick in. The grenade bounces off the pavement twice, loudly clattering to a stop near the open door one of the orks is at. A moment before the eruption of light and sound, the burst from the Colt rifle tears open the orks neck as he falls back. Spinning around, and diving for the rear of his Americar, he hears the second ork's shotgun spit fire towards his previous position, obviously blinded by the grenade.

As he rises up on the other side of his vehicle, he puts a second burst high into the other ork's chest. As the second corpse hits the pavement, two of the Banshees throw themselves into gear and begin to tear down the highway without firing a single return volley. The two riderless bikes are knocked aside as panicked commuters begin to push their way forward to escape the crazed gunman.

Avoiding first one, then another commuter car, Jason dives back into his Americar, throwing it in gear. He screeches wildly into traffic for a moment before he takes the next exit, escaping the mad stampede of vehicles. Fucking corpers. Don't know how to drive. Good thing the cameras on the overpass are out. Star can clean up the bodies.

He settles back into his seat, stowing the rifle as he drives toward the meeting place.

[Loremaster Arivs]

"It's time. It's time Ameko." The sound of her sister's voice haunts her over the phone line. "Ameko...it's...."

Waking up with a start, the Japanese investigator shakes herself awake. Bad move, girl. Falling asleep with your guard down, and when waiting for a call. Checking her messages, she sees that Halfpence hasn't called back yet. She spends a few minutes walking around the empty apartment to shake off the after-effects of her little nap, clearing her mind.

As her cell rings once more, she realizes how far into strung out shape she's reached. Time to make the donuts. Remembering an odd phrase from some ancient commercial that her sister loved, she activates the phone.

"It's time, girl. Twenty minutes, Highgate Park. Have everything you need, and stay alert. The public phone by the john. Take care." Halfpence's instructions are brief, and punctuated by his abrupt disconnection.

Talking to no one in particular, the woman stares out the single window for a moment at the comet tracing its way across the sky. "It's time."

[Loremaster Arivs]

As the monk stares at his prey, he sees the other two men. A short, black ork stands on the far side of the vehicle, moving protectively to the lithe, pale elf in the black suit.

The prey steps forward, sliding his trenchcoat to the ground, revealing the armored vest underneath. His holster and sheathed knife remain in the interior of his coat. Stepping forward smoothly, he smiles. "Sir, I believe you were asked to leave. Now you seem to be asking me to dance. Now I'm willing to oblige you. Respectfully though sir, I don't believe someone in your....condition....could keep pace." The dog steps just outside of striking distance, beginning to move in a circle to the monk's let, keeping his body stance closed and his arms loose at his sides.

[Wildfire]

The comet looked different from the other side of the ocean. She sighed and let her shoulders slump as she gathered her bags. and wiped the last traces of fingerprints from the room. She pulled the door closed behind her, it dull thunk reinforcing the mental image of another door closing in front of her. Another day and another country away from those who might know what happened. She stuffed the cloth in her bag as she exited the building into the parking garage, her steps echoing in the near empty structure.

10 minutes later, the car was parked in an alleyway off Highgate Circle. If she didn't return to it or Halfpence didn't make arrangements for its safety by the end of the night, it would be gone, untraceable after the Choppers diced it up. At 15 minutes, Ameko was walking in the park, headphones on, cord disappearing inside her bag and grooving to imaginary music. At 20 minutes she was passing the public phone.