The Fixer watched as the pair moved into the other room and got too his feet. He didn't regret taking a knee. This wasn't about pride, but about results. And she had noticed his act. If she turned out to matter it was a planted seed. But that seemed unlikely. Instead she looked like another broken person. This world of acid rain, crime and filth didn't just attack a persons physical well-being. For many it also attacked their soul. Maybe for the queen it was about alternate realities, but why did she need an alternative so badly? Thinking of the rain drizzling down, it was easy to see the appeal. Which didn't make it any less sad.

When the husband returned Fixer was standing and waiting. He'd been tempted to move to the computer and see what it was doing, but there hadn't been time. Instead, he looked around the room for any other signs of technology. Was the good-man being watched or were there signs that he was watching someone else? Was there tech of any sort laying around?

As for the conversation in the room, when the husband returned he spoke briefly. "She seems lovely. I'm sorry about her condition. It must be hard to keep up with it all." Again, sometimes being kind could help, so why not? After that he would see how the groups mouth-piece, the Crooner, would handle things.

Night City The Streets | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 March 8th(Saturday), 5:44 PM PST Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.) Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

This time, Casino's passage through the masses of humanity is like that of a cutter through swelling waters. Tranquil Grotto presents itself as a conglomeration of various prefab cubes painted a soft eggshell white dulled by weather, marked with unsightly birds' nests and droppings, and graffiti by street tags wherever a delinquent could gain purchase. The geometric forms practically collide in a seemingly misshapen tower of child play blocks and yet, each section ultimately compliments the full facade. Though not one of the fabled Starscrapers that rise up above the clouds into the thinnest reaches of the atmosphere, smog hides the uppermost stories from the Mid-City street view.

On the map, Casino had spotted a section of the building that would provide him with the best vantage. The main entrance is not on that section. However, his hope that the Grotto would provide the least security difficulties appears to be legitimized the closer he gets to the large white and green marble face surrounding the series of double doors leading inside.

Glancing at the outcropping buttresses of the Tranquil Grotto's arm he's looking to gain access to, Casino pulls the door open and strides into the dank stench awaiting him. True to buildings such as these as he presses forward through the next set of double doors Casino finds himself in a large, u-shaped lobby with dirty and stained white and green tile floors. More of the marble wainscoting that was on the exterior of the Grotto and calming, light green walls and faux wood vaulted and recessed ceilings. His stride casual, the MPK hidden within his coat, he moved farther into the building stopping at its misspelled directory.

HOLOGRAPHIK DIRECTORY BROKEN. READ PLACK.

A quick look at all the described floors the big solo knows that the fifth or sixth floor would be best but time from his overwatch position to street level was important also if he was needed to rejoin the rest of the group quickly. Deciding that the fifth floor would be best he easily made his way there and headed for the exterior park facing the entrances assigned to him. A quick recon to make sure there were no other people around, the solo found himself a good spot and settled in. The fixer rigged comm to his lips he spoke three words.

"Casino on spot".......


(Ok Brom if too many people in this park I'll check the other park on the fifth if it faces the entrances if not then the park on the fourth floor and the cube for rent until I find an out of the way spot to provide my assigned overwatch)

Phil Carey hesitates and then nods. "My wife, Toni, she's very sick. If you'll excuse me a moment."



Vegas barely dips his head in acknowledgement and as Dr. Carey leads Dr. Carey back into the only other room in the flat, the altered solo moves quietly across the floor keeping the thin blonde man in view.


As soon as the Dr turns to take his sick wife to the other room, Echo quickly and quietly moves to the computer terminal and carefully lifts the cloth just enough to view it and taps a key, hoping to scan what may be up on the screen. Knowing that it's most likely protected by passcode or some sort of scan, she doesn't expect to really find anything, but doesn't want to give up the little chance laid before them.

(OOC - If she finds anything "interesting", she will alert Fixer that he needs to try get on it, remove her mask, and move towards artwork away from the terminal and attempt to get the Dr's attention and ask about the art to cover. Otherwise, she will put the cloth back, and be nonchalantly looking at the artwork on the nearest wall.)



"Do you see any signs of a child?" Bloodbank whispers.

Vegas shakes his head but keeps his eyes on the activities in the other room. A moment later, he shifts and politely turns his gaze partially away. Phil Carey emerges from the bedroom with the weapon still in hand but hanging limply at his side as he uses his free hand to close the door behind him.


(Assuming she found nothing on the computer, Echo will listen with some compassion to the Dr as he tells his tale, feeling sorry for them both)



"My wife is also a Phd. Computer science," he states in a disparate tone. "Unfortunately, she is unable to work due to her, condition. Ms. White is aware of the situation, but no one else at the school knows and I'd appreciate it staying that way."

"What happened?" Colin can't help but satiate his curiosity.

"She usually isn't as bad as this," Phil glances forlornly towards the door he just shut. "I've had to pretend to be sick for several days to look after her. I can't leave her alone when she's like this or she'll go wandering off and who knows what could happen to her then.

"She used to be brilliant, you know? A hotshot programmer—we met at University. But, she isn't very strong-willed and loves virtual reality fantasy experiences. She'd play them all day, every day, and eventually lost touch with reality. And now, well, now,

"She's usually capable of managing for the most part. She's got a little job in a burger joint down on the second floor flipping tofu-burgers, but that's all she can manage. She used to be so brilliant—so wonderful,"

Phil's eyes swell with tears and his long, skinny nose turns a deep shade of red as he rapidly blinks to keep the liquid at bay.


Echo removes her mask and turns to Dr Carey, "Who is the artist, sir? These are all quite beautiful", she asks with what she hopes is a friendly smile, trying to get him to relax. If he didn't take the kid, which her gut seems to tell her he didn't (OOC - ROLL for hunch/Awareness) since he has to watch over the wife so much, maybe he has some information about the kid since he had him in class.

West Park Mallplex | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 6:03 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (air filtration masks required)

As the husband enters the back room, Fixer stands and joins the others in waiting. He is tempted to move to the computer and see what it is doing, but Echo is already in motion. As soon as the doctor turns to take his sick wife to the other room, the masked little nomad quickly and quietly moves across the carpeted floor to the computer terminal. Fixer watches as she carefully lifts the cloth just enough to view the monitor and taps a key on the digital keyboard, hoping to scan what may be up on the screen. Knowing that it's most likely protected by passcode or some sort of bioscan, she doesn't expect to really find anything, but doesn't want to give up the little chance laid before them. Both the nomad and the techie are disappointed when the screen remains black; the computer is off.

Replacing the cloth over the device, the leather-clad woman turns her attention to the artwork on the walls. All of these paintings depict mythological and fantastical creatures the like of which Elizabeth can recall from Lit classes she'd suffered through as a child in a private school. Unicorns, pegasus, fairies, elves, dwarves, everything is rendered with the skill of a hobbyist, but still well enough to recognize what they are.

With the computer having come up a dead end, Fixer looks around the room for any other signs of technology. Aside from the computer storage chips, everything appears to be standard for a mallplax conapt. Is the good-man being watched or are there signs that he is watching someone else? If there are, the curly-haired tech knows he'll need more than what he has available to scan for bugs or remote camera frequencies. Is there tech of any sort laying around that Fixer might be able to get his hands on and potentially use to determine evidence of the crime they are investigating? Again, passing his critical gaze over the mess of computer chips he surmises that everything else is pretty standard. Dr. Carey interrupts James' considerations by stepping back into the main room and closing the bedroom door behind him.

"She usually isn't as bad as this," Phil glances forlornly towards the door he just shut. "I've had to pretend to be sick for several days to look after her. I can't leave her alone when she's like this or she'll go wandering off and who knows what could happen to her then.

"She used to be brilliant, you know? A hotshot programmer—we met at University. But, she isn't very strong-willed and loves virtual reality fantasy experiences. She'd play them all day, every day, and eventually lost touch with reality. And now, well, now,

"She's usually capable of managing for the most part. She's got a little job in a burger joint down on the second floor flipping tofu-burgers, but that's all she can manage. She used to be so brilliant—so wonderful,"

Phil's eyes swell with tears and his long, skinny nose turns a deep shade of red as he rapidly blinks to keep the liquid at bay.

Fixer takes the opportunity to speak briefly, "She seems lovely. I'm sorry about her condition. It must be hard to keep up with it all." Again, sometimes being kind can help, so why not? Now that he's played the kindness card, he waits to see how the groups mouthpiece—the Crooner—handles things.

Echo unwraps her balaclava which draws Phil Carey's attention, "Who is the artist, sir? These are all quite beautiful", she asks with what she hopes is a friendly smile, trying to get him to relax. If he didn't take the kid, which her gut tells her he didn't, perhaps similar kindness as to what Fixer has already shown will help him open up and share whatever he does know about their mark. His tears are genuine and as near as Elizabeth can see, his wife is not acting.

"I'm very sorry as well, Doctor Carey," Bloodbank offers quietly. Then, in a conclusive voice, he turns to Vegas and continues, "I don't think the Carey's know where Jase is."

Turning a surprised face to the team medic, Vegas' brows pinch together over his nose. Before he has time to say anything in response to the younger man's comment, Phil's long face flushes red and his eyes widen.

"What's happened?" Dr. Carey exclaims and then immediately corrects the volume of his question for his follow-up. "Did something happen to Jase?"

Giving the medtech a slight shake of his head and a thin-lipped scowl, Vegas allows his gaze to linger on the young man's roundish face as he responds. "Yes, Dr. Carey. Jase is missing and we're following up on any leads that might result in his recovery."

"Oh, that poor boy—" Phil's thin eyebrows climb up his forehead. "And you thought I might have taken him. Ms. White isn't at all concerned with my absence except inasmuch as it possibly connects to Jase's disappearance."

"It's just a precaution," Bloodbank says in a conciliatory tone. "We understand that you've had your share of interactions with the boy."

With a deepening scowl, Vegas interjects and attempts to take lead once again, "No one is accusing you of anything, Doctor Carey. But if you've seen the boy, now would be the time to let us know."

"We're just concerned, Doctor Carey," Colin "Bloodbank" Stobb adds softly.

"How long has Jase been missing?" Phil moves around the couch with a glazed expression, the handgun forgotten in his grip.

"Since yesterday," Vegas answers while following the thin man's movements closely with narrowed eyes.

"That's not good at all," the professor breathes. "Statistically speaking, the chances of recovering the child alive are reduced dramatically every hour they're missing."

"Done your research, Doctor Carey?" Vegas casually accuses.

Phil's expression turns sharp for the first time since the group entered his apartment. "I teach corporate law, sir. A knowledge of kidnapping insurance and negotiation agency options is required."

(OOC: Time is 6:11 PM PST)

----------------------------------------------

Tranquil Grotto | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:44 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (air filtration masks required)

A decent vantage point for an overwatch position would be the fifth or sixth floor with his optic splice. Figuring a sprint down stairs and not waiting for the elevator if he needed to break from his position to provide support, Keith draws on his experience plus his high school public education and attempts to calculate the time it will take him to descend six stories at a full sprint and hit the street. If he's done his math right, it's between three and five seconds per floor. Clenching his jaw against the pain rolling through his arm, the wounded edgerunner assesses the variables on the fourth, fifth, and sixth floors.

On the fourth, he has to contend with Hope Park, a cube for rent, Songbird Meadows Park, Level Nine Security Station 426, Wildflower Duplex, and Freedom Pool while the exterior section—the section he needs to pay closer attention to—includes Oak Wood Duplex, Rebirth Apartments, Sunset Dog Park, Pleasant View Residential Suite, Moonlight Duplex, and the Seaside Grounds Park.

The fifth floor spread is Ladybug Meadows Park, Nirvana Heights Apartment Cubes, High Garden Private Suite, Savanna Garden, Moss Forest Apartment Cubes, Windy Grounds East Park, with the circle-facing prefabs being Windy Grounds West Park, Aprico Co. Apartment Complex - Floor 5, Whitewater Estate, Whitewater Private Park, and Tranquil Grotto Elementary.

Reading the scribbles indicating the sixth floor's occupants, Casino finds the interior to contain Aprico Co. Apartment Complex - Floor 6a, Old Stone Private Residence, Canyon Crest Private Residence, Emerald Moss Indoor Park, Sunnyside Duplex, and Robinwood Private Residence, while the exterior holds Windy Oaks Private Residence, Aprico Co. Apartment Complex - Floor 6b, Clearview Meadows Park, Pioneer Duplex, Truth Square Duplex, and Pleasant Shores Gardens.

Turning back to the three elevator banks, Casino makes up his mind. The big solo knows that the fifth or sixth floor will be the best but the time it will take to get from his overwatch position to the street level is also important if he needs to rejoin the rest of the group quickly. Deciding that the fifth floor will be the best, he tags the elevator call button and stands back to wait for its arrival. When the lift dings and the doors slide open, Keith is greeted by an empty compartment with dark green carpet stained by darker green and black spots, a stainless steel interior along the walls and a very grimy-looking wooden rail at approximately waist level on the three walls without a door. The ceiling is a mirror, probably to hide security cameras and other systems, but without taking them apart, or using tech he doesn't have available, Casino can only make assumptions. The key is that it is empty.

Windy Grounds West Park is his destination. A pleasant voice says, "Fifth floor," and the elevator slows to a stop. The doors split revealing a continuation of the green carpet as well as stains, tears, and fraying along the edges. Again, Casino has lucked out and the hall is empty. Easily making his way down to the park entrance, the rough-looking masked man steps up to the door and is met by a complete lack of movement.

Flat stainless steel and without a handle, but wide enough to allow for two people to easily pass each other as they walk through in opposite directions, the door is a barricade that requires a keypass to pass through. The keypass box sits to the right and unlike those keypasses that require the card to be inserted or swiped, this has a little laser that reads the cards through a Plastek case protecting it from tampering. Glancing overhead in frustration, Casino watches the words, "Windy Grounds Park" get blown away by a wind animation only to "grow" back into place from the nothingness below the holographic display to be blown away again moments later.

Chances are good that the other parks offer their tenants the same level of protection.

(OOC: Time is 5:54 PM PST)

-------------------------------------------

Infinity Towers | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:53 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (air filtration masks required)

Using the drone places him at an advantage the others won't have. Charlie doesn't need to gain a position of altitude himself; all he needs is a bit of privacy. Scouring the face of the sloping architecture, the fixer considers his options.

Flying the drone from inside the building could encounter interference depending on what kind of transmissions are running through those silvery walls. However, if there is one thing he knows, it's that in this compact world one of the lures drawing people out of the corporate urban sprawl on the outskirts of the integrates is the outdoor spaces regularly placed on each floor of these towers. Street levels don't usually provide outdoor gardens or parks, but the higher levels do. Rolling his eyes up the face of the smaller protruding leg of the building, Cred Stick Charlie finds a possible roost on the third floor overlooking the circle. There, cut into the sheer surface as though someone had decided to extract a parallelogram from the side of the building is a large enough space to indicate a park or garden he might be able to gain access to. The upward slope of the ceiling would provide ample room for take off and landing without the threat of interfering wires or a low-hanging roof.

Alternatively, he could remain in the rain, seek a position amongst the squatting homeless around the building, and try to pull off the whole thing like he didn't care if anyone is watching, or seek risking signal interference from a room within the Towers.

Cred Stick Charlie has to find a sweet spot to fly his drone in the rain. Rain is good... as long as it doesn't change to acid rain, which is the worst. Charlie scans the building for a "roost" to launch his drone and looks to be on the third floor. The walk was long in the rain but it gave Charlie some time to talk to himself and figure out how to gain access to that possible spot. His clothes should help him gain access to an area that the others might not be able... so that might be a good thing as well.

Decision made, the fixer dips his head in the direction he intends to travel and walks into the curtain of rainwater that falls from the brim of his fedora. The outer doors to the Infinity Towers sweep aside and admit him into the intermediate lobby where he is blasted by a wall of air that is designed to keep weather and bugs from getting inside. Stepping up to the next set of doors, he peers through the glass at the individual in the booth on the other side.

"Welcome to the Infinity Towers." In his early twenties, the young Asian man has a purple light show playing at the tips of his lively TechHair graft and an obvious optic splice ringing his left eye. His uniform is black and of the same canvas texture a number of Cred Stick Charlie's new team members wear with a digitally animated sun over a city silhouette rotating its rays from left to right and the words, "Sunset Security Services" alternating from English to Japanese to Mandarine to Spanish to Russian and back to English in the darkness of the city silhouette. A clipped badge rests over his right breast pocket with a digital representation of his portrait slowly rotating to the left, then back again to center and then to the right. His name is displayed below in the same shifting font, "Si Jun-Yeong."

"How can I help you?"

(OOC: Time is 5:57 PM PST)

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Deciding on his desired perch, Ghlahn turns to the right and proceeds towards the elevators, passing Thinkwell Counseling Services where a holographic Asian woman flickers into existence and smiles broadly at him while saying, “The doctors are in. Would you care to set up an appointment?” As he continues on his way she offers a little bow and says, “Perhaps another time. Have a lovely day.”

Boom n’ Bump Entertainment’s storefront is a visual assault. Holgraphic opponents step out from the shaded glass a few steps in front of the cyborg soldier, beat their chest or gesture obscenely at him and call out challenges. Men, women, science fiction aliens and robots, monsters from fantasy worlds… every challenge possible for those who wish to engage in interactive entertainment. Leaving calls questioning his honor and courage behind, Ghlahn breathes in the smell of roasted coffee beans.

Galaxy Brew Coffee offers window seats looking out into the cobblestone corridor, but M’haru Ghlahn can see the backside of projected scenes from Paris’ streets. Being Cee-Metal, he has no need to imbibe, but the aromas are pleasant. Stopping on the other side of the coffee shop, the black-clothed red-headed man calls the elevator down.

The fifth floor should provide a decent position if he can get access to any of the circle-facing cubes. Pressing the digital touch screen with his thumb, Ghlahn brings up the fifth floor directory which provides the following businesses facing the circle from far south to the north: Dynamicworks Temp Agency, Silverecords Agent Sales, The Parlour Restaurant, The Smoke Vault, Wolf Point Plaza Mid-City Water Treatment Center, The Golden Shrimp Seafood Restaurant, United States Marines Recruiting Office, Pipe Cleaners Plumbing, National Urban Farming Center, Spring Forest Medical Clinic, The Citadel Cinema, Sapphire Oasis Spa. South to north on the other side there’s Tropic Cove Pool, Night City PD Auxiliary Station, Sports Guys Style & Cuts, The Hot Spice Restaurant, Resonance Travel Agency, The Solar After Dark Restaurant, Vegas Odds, Night City PD Wolf Point Plaza Holding Facility, an empty cube, F.B.I. Remote Station, and Oceanside Academic Maintenance & Cleaning Services.

People bundled in blankets cough and shift like worms in sacks as he moves past them. Blurry-eyed and blank-faced, most are hopped up on drugs like Blue Glass, Communion, Reality, or another recreational drug that helps them escape from their miserable existence. Danger lurks here amidst these snakes. They appear docile and sapped of strength due to the lack of the sun’s warmth in their lives, but they can strike out in a narcotically induced fever with an unpredictability that renders them fierce. M’haru Ghlahn steps lightly but without fear.

Progressing takes time, especially when forced to step over the refuge left by the fast-paced life necessary to survive in the big city. Flat green eyes flick from access hallway to door alcove picking out signs of more squatters, lifers, and riff-raff. All of which exist here and all of which are potential eyes and ears he has to deal with.

Sometimes the advantage of a situation comes from the least expected source and in this case, the time of day is Ghlahn’s ally. These poor souls lying about in these corridors come to life the later the hour and there are still a few hours to go before they begin to slither from their moldy lairs. Stepping lightly, his Icon America half-boots are walking on clouds. Rolling stench prevails changing between urine, feces, moldy cloth, and alcohol seep past his mask and flickering overhead lights threaten to distract from the task at hand but Alex McKennon is the consummate professional and he reaches his goal without disturbing the wildlife.

Standing before the door to the closed Spring Forest Medical Clinic, he peers through the visuals of his combat mask at the set-up before him. The alcove is lined with blue LED ribbons set apart by a meter apiece at a depth of three meters. A camera ball resides on the ceiling, but it is so covered in spray paint there’s little chance of it recording anything of value even if the system is operable. The door is where the real security lies, at least the first phase.

To Ghlahn’s eye, the portal is a fire door, probably of the metal interior type lined with a different metal alloy on the exterior. This being a clinic and holding drugs inside, the edgerunner expects and isn’t disappointed with the lock mechanism. Watchdog 4500 labeled on the outside of the box confirms his suspicions. The exterior casing of the Watchdog brand code box is combat-cast graphene with an interior sensor to read the card. Although this particular brand isn’t the top of the line, it is a top of the line brand and that means it isn’t going to be easy to by-pass. The usual B&E tools aren’t going to cut it, but Ghlahn does have something that will cut it.

Glancing over his shoulder, the black-clad edger makes sure that no one has taken an interest in his activities before he swings his bag around and unzips the main section. Searching through its contents, he retrieves the portable cutting torch he packs around. Scanning his surroundings again, M’haru Ghlahn confirms his solitude before beginning to cut away at the box.

A couple of seconds later and he’s cut through the top and both sides of the box. Returning the torch to his bag, he zips it back up and swings it back over his shoulder. Gripping the edge of the cut box, the runner yanks back and down revealing the inner workings. Now comes the part where he can use his regular tools. Pulling back the damp sleeve of his jacket and the shirt beneath it, Ghlahn holds his arm out towards the guts and mentally activates the panel at the top of his wrist.

Skin separates and spider-like spindles crawl out. He has to admit that someone like Fixer would be far more capable of this, but he doesn’t have that luxury. So, he focuses and begins to mentally control the little arms and scissors. Five minutes later and he’s stymied. Wires are cut, spliced, and rigged but the door remains locked. He has failed to by-pass the security.

(OOC: Time is 5:58 PM PST)

    Cursing his luck Ghalan stared at the unmoving door.  He was a man of many skills but bypassing security was not one of his best.  Sometimes the best option when faced with an obstacle was to simply avoid it.  Ghalan picked up his things and moved a few doors down to the temp agency.  Should be a little easier to get into a temp agency.  Nothing worth stealing in there so they should hav eminimal security.  Upon arrival he checked the door to the agency and hoped for an easier time.  

Tranquil Grotto | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 March 8th(Saturday), 5:44 PM PST Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.) Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

As he finally reached his first destanation, Windy Grounds West Park, Casino found himself facing a flat stainless steel door without a handle, but wide enough to allow for two people to easily pass each other as they walk through in opposite directions, the door is a barricade that requires a keypass to pass through. The keypass box sits to the right and unlike those keypasses that require the card to be inserted or swiped, this has a little laser that reads the cards through a Plastek case protecting it from tampering. Glancing overhead in frustration, Casino watches the words, “Windy Grounds Park” get blown away by a wind animation only to “grow” back into place from the nothingness below the holographic display to be blown away again moments later.

Cursing under his breath that chances were quite good that the other parks offered their tenants the same level of protection the big solo took a step back. All he could really do was continue to try to find a good spot to use to cover his assigned exits. Moving down the halls he proceeded to check the rest of the circle-facing prefabs, Aprico Co Apartment Complex, Whitewater Estate, Whitewater Private Park, and Tranquil Grotto Elementary.

However the thought of firing from the elementary school brought back thoughts of all the senseless school shootings in the 2000 era. He did not want to be involved in anything close to that and would only use the school grounds as a last resort on this floor. If the fifth floor turned out to be a bust he’d head up to the 6^th floor and hope for better luck.................

Fixer listened as the group convered with their armed host.  He was glad to see that at least one other had picked up on the kindness bit.  Being a jerk usually didn't pay. Well, sometimes it did, but not often, and likely not with someone like this.  

But he wasn't the groups mouthpiece, so he stayed in the back and continued to look around the room while listening to the conversation.  Corporate law?  That was an interesting bit.  It didn't likely mean much, but it might mean the guy knew some interesting things.  He looked to see if there was a good way to get a glimpse behind the curtain into the room the "queen" had gone into, but he didn't want to push his luck.  

“How long has Jase been missing?” Phil moves around the couch with a glazed expression, the handgun forgotten in his grip.

“Since yesterday,” Vegas answers while following the thin man’s movements closely with narrowed eyes.

“That’s not good at all,” the professor breathes. “Statistically speaking, the chances of recovering the child alive are reduced dramatically every hour they’re missing.”

“Done your research, Doctor Carey?” Vegas casually accuses.

Phil’s expression turns sharp for the first time since the group entered his apartment. “I teach corporate law, sir. A knowledge of kidnapping insurance and negotiation agency options is required.”

 

“Of course you would know that, sir”, Echo says gently to the now annoyed man, hoping to calm him back down. “That’s been a well known fact for hundreds of years that anyone with a minimum of intelligence would know”, she says with a glare at the crooner. “Please forgive our gruff ways, we are all genuinely concerned for Jace’s wellfare, and have found very few leads. If there is anything you remember, no matter how insignificant you may think it is, please tell us so we have that better chance of finding him alive.”

Echo finished with what she hoped was a warm smile, and not the anxious terror she felt in her gut from speaking in front of a group, shoving her hands in her pockets to hide how badly they were shaking. She never was one for public speaking, as it usually made her feel nauseous and dizzy, but she couldn’t let Vegas’ accusation stand, it just wasn’t right. She was able to keep eye contact with Dr Carey, trying to give him even more reason to at least trust her, and waited for his answer, if he had one.

Infinity Towers | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:57 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (air filtration masks required)

 

Cred Stick Charlie begins to size up this guard and how to approach him.

“Evening ............ I was hoping that I might get a sneak peak at one of these small garden spots in this building if possible.

The trendy guard drolly replies, “I’m sorry, but unless you’re a resident of the Tower, or a guest of a resident, I can’t let you in.”  

“ Hey...”  he smiles that infectious smile, “ I just want to look for a place that has a decent view, you know what I mean?. Can you just let me get just a quick peek?... “

“No,” the young Asian man stirs enough in his chair to cause his TechHair to swim about his head. Glancing up from his agent, he continues in a clipped tone. “Like I said, I can’t do that.”

“Are you sure that I can’t persuade you with a small but yet not nominal gift to bestow upon a hard worker like yourself?”

Glancing over his shoulder to check on the darkness behind him, the uniform-clad young man leans forward and says in a quiet voice, “I’m listening.”

Cr stick charlie hopes finds a “chink” in this guards armour... the guard waits to then hear the offer without asking

“ Hey, Listen...I was security guard with several companies back in the day, heck, I even had a wife.... I was so good at my job where I neglected my wife and was married to just my job. A job that did take me anywhere, people harassed me and cursed me for just doing my job. I worked many hours, didn't get promoted from “home office” but every year at review I was promised yet a bonus or a better post that would never come. But one thing did come......”

Charlie pauses...

“I came home to my kibble and bits ......... my wife’s closest was open and her clothes were missing. I quickly check my messages and finally heard her voice. She was leaving me because I was never home.....

“Months passed and I left my guard post for a better wage slave ID... so I’m really look for a nice place to  get my wife back... it’s been almost 6 years but I now fear even with a decent job, good clothing and my heart in my hand that she is distracted now..

“We have been back together for about a year now, but I fear that she has wandered... if you can find it in your heart,  please aid me. I... I just need to see for myself, if she has taken a lover.

Deep breath…

“Maybe you haven’t stood a post for many hours to a job that will suck you life away as your partner complains about you risking your life for small  pay....

“ I just need to know, I don’t want to hurt anyone but I need closure...  I just need to see for myself and stop paying a P.I. that has bleed me dry”

** Charlie opens his coat and is willing to show his that he isn’t armed with a lethal but only the shocker (Electric Taser)....

Shaking his head, the guard shifts back into his chair and shakes his head, his arms straight out and pressed against the edge of his desk. His agent bleeps notifying him of an update but his attention is on Charlie. “Damn! I hate when inputs do that s**t. I’d be fini with that b***h, not setting myself up to get jammed again. But, hey. To each their own, right, Choomba?

“I hear tell that the playas in the Tower take their inputs and outputs to West Beach Garden on the third floor. Transfer me a five-oh and I’ll buzz you through.”

“ Thank you so much...” weak smile charlie gives

“I’ve got a family too, man, but my gal doesn’t get it. I mean, I’m more than just a guard, you know? I’m a provider—a man—and all I get is flak or threats all day long. It’s small. She don’t know that you have to be a very strong person for this job—not everyone can work security. We’re a special breed, bruh, ya know?”

“ Hey, if you need anything that I might be able to help you out, message me on this number.

Charlie holds his agent up to within a few inches of the receiving agent and commanding the device to share your info.

“ I want return the favor, okay?”

“Seriously? Maybe I will,” the guard replies as he holds his agent up to receive the data. “You shouldn’t get bothered by anyone, but if you do, you’re a guest of Ms. Holst. She’s practically senile and wouldn’t remember if you were her son.”

“ Thanks........”

Pressing a digital button on his flat screen panel opens the doors for the Native American fixer. “Remember, choomba, this access will allow you into the building and when you get to the West Beach Garden on the third floor I’ll buzz you through.”

“Good luck, Bakuto.” TechHair swirling in purple waves, the Asian returns his attention to his agent.

West Park Mallplex | Night City haveegrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 6:11 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

 

“Done your research, Doctor Carey?” Vegas casually accuses.

Phil’s expression turns sharp for the first time since the group entered his apartment. “I teach corporate law, sir. A knowledge of kidnapping insurance and negotiation agency options is required.”

Fixer listens as the group converses with their armed host. He is glad to see that at least one other in their numbers has picked up on the kindness bit. Being a jerk usually doesn’t pay—Well, sometimes it does, but not often, and likely not with someone like this. 

But he isn’t the group’s mouthpiece, so he stays in the back and continues to look around the room while listening to the conversation. Corporate law? That was an interesting bit. It doesn’t likely mean much, but it might mean the guy knows some interesting things. He looks to see if there is a good way to get a glimpse behind the curtain into the room the "queen" has gone into, but he doesn’t want to push his luck.

“Of course you would know that, sir,” Echo says gently to the now annoyed man hoping to calm him back down. “That’s been a well-known fact for hundreds of years and anyone with a minimum of intelligence would know,” she says with a glare at the crooner. “Please forgive our gruff ways, we are all genuinely concerned for Jace’s welfare, and have found very few leads. If there is anything you remember, no matter how insignificant you may think it is, please tell us so we have that better chance of finding him alive.”

Echo finishes with what she hopes is a warm smile and not the anxious terror she feels in her gut from speaking in front of a group. Shoving her hands in her pockets to hide how badly they are shaking, she swallows; never one for public speaking as it usually makes her feel nauseous and dizzy, she couldn’t let Vegas’ accusation stand. It just isn’t right. She is able to keep eye contact with Dr. Carey, trying to give him even more reason to at least trust her, and waits for his answer, if he has one.

“Hey,” the dapper solo spreads his arms and cocks his head to one side while affecting that famous smile. “I get that there’s reason to take some offense at what I just said, Doc,” folding his arms, Vegas’ countenance changes as his face becomes stern, “thing is, there’s a life at stake here and pussy-footin’ around isn’t going to get us nowhere. I’m still not sure you didn’t have something to do with Jace’s disappearance—” holding up a hand to forestall any objections, he continues. “A search of your domicile would help settle my mind, though.”

“And I suppose I’m supposed to trust you lot explicitly?” Dr. Carey affects a thoughtful frown.

“It’s like she said,” Bloodbank chimes in, giving a nod to the nomad, “anything you can give us to help…”

“He’s right,” Phil awards Vegas with an ungracious nod. “There’s little time to waste and allowing myself to take offense at the urgency of your treatment of me in my own home isn’t going to assist in Jace’s safe return. So I will do as the… um, young lady… suggests and ply my memory to see if anything useful presents itself. Meanwhile, you can feel free to walk about. I’ve nothing to hide. The only thing I do ask is that you not bother my wife.”

“That’s all I was sayin’,” the crooner explains before turning and nodding to the others. “We won’t disturb a thing, Doc.”

Finally releasing the handgun, Phil Carey seats himself in such a way as to allow his knees to act as a rest for his elbows. Tapping his thin bottom lip with his finger he stares over Vegas’ head at the strange piece of art in the corner.

(OOC: You can walk around and look things over, but if you’re thinking of trying to get into the computer or if you go into the bedroom, you’ll draw Phil’s attention and there will be interaction.)

“A couple of weeks past,” Dr. Carey muses while still observing the drifting art. “Young Jace approached me asking about Parental Rights in regards to their children. He was vague in his inferences, but was keen on the particulars in a child’s legal options where Parent Time is concerned. I found it odd at the time especially since Jace had never spoken of his family before… at least not to me. The entire conversation was quickly forgotten as the issues with my wife escalated, but I do recall this intensity to him that I’d not witnessed before.

“He’s something of a lonely boy, as a matter-of-fact,” Carey continues in a level lecturing tone. “And I didn’t see him spend much time with the other boys. He tended to like the company of adults—socially, I mean. He would engage in conversation about topics that most children his age veer away from. It was most endearing and I think you’d find that the staff at the school are all quite taken with him. He was such an amenable sort that takingen witnessed him speaking with the janitorial staff on a number of occasions. Strangely enough, I don’t recall any other students even taking the time to notice the maids and custodians working the buildings and grounds except to, perhaps, make fun.”

Shaking his head, Phil finally looks back up at the edgers. “I’m sorry. I wish I could offer more but it isn’t exactly good form to get close to the children and as I already said, Jace is something of a loner.”

(OOC: Time is 6:30 PM PST)

----------------------------------------------

Wolf Point Plaza | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:58 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Cursing his luck, Ghlahn stares at the unmoving door. He is a man of many skills but bypassing security is not one of his best. Sometimes the best option, when faced with an obstacle, is to simply avoid it. Ghlahn picks up his things and moves a few doors down to the temp agency.  Should be a little easier to get into a temp agency. Nothing worth stealing in there so they should have minimal security.  

Dynamicworks Temp Agency is located in a typical office prefab cube with slate gray light-weight cement walls housing electronics that project ever-changing broadcasts of available legitimate work positions ranging from temporary to potential for hire jobs in an array of glassy-looking lights adorned by colorful company logos and always the words See Inside flashing or pulsing below the title. The entrance to this location is barely inset from the hall and as the wiry man approaches a flat ray of greenish light flickers to life and begins to scan him from head to toe.

Ghlahn has seen these scanners before and doesn’t worry about it. Designed to do nothing more than taking a cursory exterior reading, the limited AI interpreting the information the scan gleans makes a decision about potential employment opportunities. The Cee-Metal enclaves have a similar body shell scanner to determine how a member might best assist with enclave work for the day.

Stepping forward, he checks the door to the agency and hopes for an easier time. It’s locked, but the lock is primitive and standard. A key lock with tumblers set into the aluminum frame of the L-shaped handle.

Looking to the right and left once more, the red-headed solo squints through his combat mask’s goggles and takes a moment to determine whether any of the sleeping and bundled forms are taking an interest in him. Seeing none, he frees his wrist from obstructions once more and sets about working at the lock with his insectoid pick kit. Two minutes into the work and he’s frustrated.

Allowing the arms of the kit to retract into his bodyshell, Alex tugs the sleeve of his jacket back into place and swings his smartbag around to dig into the main compartment once more. Retrieving his torch, he sets his jaw and begins cutting away at the lock. Thirty seconds later and the locking mechanism falls away as molten slag. Returning the torch to the bag, the masked redhead grips the handle, pauses, and inspects the area surrounding the frame for any sign of additional security. Another thirty and he’s assumed an all clear due to a complete lack of any visible wires, laser sensors, or other paraphernalia.

Pulling the door open, Ghlahn takes a breath and steps through. Open space has been sectioned off with tan and brown cubicles masted by a receptionist’s desk. Obviously, profitability isn’t something this business struggles with. They don’t even have a holo-sec—a holographic secretary service—to greet people who approach the desk. Artificial green eyes lift to take in the back wall where a bank of offices are divided by two hallways leading deeper into the prefab cube.

Were this business showing more signs of technological advancements, M’haru Ghlahn might be concerned about a construct lying in wait. That kind of financial commitment to protecting assets is the realm of much more profitable business.

Striding through the sardine can of stations, the team sniper accesses the random choice algorithm in his body shell and comes up with the left hall. Darker for the lack of the large windows looking out of the face of the building, the hall is tight due to architect programs packing as much into the space as they can. Every five paces or so, two doors flank him barring access to additional offices. These are not the goal, however. Colliding with the corridor at the end is a cross hall. And again, the random algorithm determines that he continue on to the left. Left towards another hall breaking to the right before running the sniper into a conference room.

Taking the right, he sees his end goal, a larger office with a window overlooking the circle and the mallplex beyond. This office space is also locked requiring a repeat performance with the torch opens the room to him and within a couple of breaths he is setting his smart bag on the desk and looking out through the rain pelted panes at the building containing the advance portion of his team. Panes of glass that do not open.

(OOC: Time is 6:07 PM PST)

------------------------------------------

Tranquil Grotto | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:54 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

As he finally reaches his first destination, Windy Grounds West Park, Casino finds himself facing a flat stainless steel door without a handle, but wide enough to allow for two people to easily pass each other as they walk through in opposite directions; the door is a barricade that requires a keypass to pass through. The keypass box sits to the right and unlike those keypasses that require the card to be inserted or swiped, this has a little laser that reads the cards through a Plastek case protecting it from tampering. Glancing overhead in frustration, Casino watches the words, Windy Grounds Park get blown away by a wind animation only to “grow” back into place from the nothingness below the holographic display to be blown away again moments later.

Cursing under his breath that the chances are quite good the other parks offered their tenants the same level of protection, the big solo takes a step back. All he can really do is continue to try and find a good spot to use to cover his assigned exits. Laughter, raucous, boisterous declarations using street lingo, and music invades the hall to his right quite suddenly. Liquid steel courses through his veins, but the idea of tangling with a boostergang isn’t thrilling. Moving down the hall to the left, he proceeds to check the rest of the circle-facing prefabs, Aprico Co. Apartment Complex is old school secure with an iron gate that looks like it was installed after the building security failed. Behind the gate is an alcove approximately five meters deep with what appears to be storage lockers on either side and a green door with a large steel plate behind the doorknob offering additional security against someone wanting to kick it in.

Passing by the gate, Casino proceeds on to Whitewater Estate. Security on this private residence is higher—not the high level stuff one finds in the High City, but definitely better than at Aprico Co. Apartment Complex. Still, it’s beyond his skillset so he continues on. Meanwhile, the sounds he is hoping he had left behind aren’t growing dimmer. Those responsible seem to be matching the distance between them while moving down the hall in the same direction he is.

Whitewater Private Park appears to be attached to the Whitewater Estate. Not something he’ll likely be able to gain access to and Tranquil Grotto Elementary... the thought of firing from the elementary school brought to mind images of the senseless school shootings that regularly pop up on the news. He does not want to be involved in anything close to that and will only use the school grounds as a last resort on this floor.

Time is of the essence and the fifth floor is turning out to be a bust. Deciding to head up to the sixth floor with the hope for better luck, the large man turns to make his way back to the elevators right when a person steps into view from further back down the hall towards the noise.

“Holy s***!” maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, the young man making his declaration of surprise wears a red, green, and white leather jacket. His head is shaved into a short mohawk that’s been dyed neon green. He’s of Indian heritage, or a half-breed, and hovering over his left shoulder is a SkyWorm cybernetic companion—a six inch drone that acts as an entertainment device, recording device, and net link. “You startled the hell outta me, solo. You a f****** solo, right? You look like a f****** solo. S***! You here to croak someone? F***. Can I watch?”

(OOC: Time is 6:10 PM PST)

-------------------------------------------

Infinity Towers | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:57 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Charlie holds his agent up to within a few inches of the receiving agent and commands the device to share his contact info.

“ I want return the favor, okay?” Dipping his head and looking through the thin drizzle of dirty rain water pouring from the brim of his hat, the fixer quickly negotiates the price of entrance down another twenty-five percent. Once the transaction is completed he offers up his future assistance once more. “I meant it. Need anything in the future, just let me know.”

“Seriously? Maybe I will,” the guard replies as he holds his agent up to receive the data. “You shouldn’t get bothered by anyone, but if you do, you’re a guest of Ms. Holst. She’s practically senile and wouldn’t remember if you were her son.”

“ Thanks.”

Pressing a digital button on his flat screen panel opens the doors for the Native American fixer. “Remember, choomba, this access will allow you into the building and when you get to the West Beach Garden on the third floor I’ll buzz you through.”

“Good luck, Bakuto.” TechHair swirling in purple waves, the Asian returns his attention to his agent and Charlie shrugs off the clinging weather to step through the open portal.

A hold holdout of better times, the Infinity Towers is easily one of the higher-end buildings in this area of Night City. The lobby is more of an atrium with floating holographic plantlife overhead and designer-looking couches, chairs, and coffee tables arranged about pillars of smooth black marble with white and green veins. The lighting is more old-world chandelier style than modern display, though the LED energy-saving bulbs are certainly being used sharing a brighter, white light with the occupants. And occupants there are. A few of the people milling about in the lobby glance up as Cred Stick Charlie enters, but no one appears concerned and most, if not all, are confident in their security and feel that anyone let in is of no threat.

Infinity Towers ownership must be trying to sell a lifestyle because there are actual human servers in uniforms mingling with the residents. The lobby is obviously intended as a social gathering place and as the fixer moseys through the maze of furniture and pillars, he finally catches sight of elevators embedded into the black marble tile walls of the room’s interior and makes his way right over to them. Approaching the lift’s jade plated doors, Luther takes in the Latino woman in a black business suit standing by the control panel wearing a digital name tag displaying her profile from the shoulders up, slowly rotating on a central axis and sharing her name as Sofía Carita, Hostess. Rotund and a bit puggish, the woman politely smiles as he arrives.

“Going up, sir?” she asks with a slight accent.

(OOC: Assuming a positive response.)

With a nod, Ms. Carita turns and pushes the button that Charlie could have pushed himself. “Are you enjoying your day, sir?”

(OOC: Response.)

Waiting on the elevator affords the pair some small talk. Sofía is very adept at drawing out just enough to keep the conversation flowing while not even scratching the surface of the participant’s private life. By the time the lift’s arrival is announced by a soft female voice saying, “Main Floor,” Cred Stick Charlie doesn’t know a thing about Ms. Carita and she doesn’t know a thing about him, but they haven’t had a moment of silence between them.

Stepping into the elevator, Luther is greeted by an average-looking woman in a similar black pantsuit with another digital name tag presenting her name as Premwadee Chuan. “Good evening, sir,” she chirps in a high voice. “What floor please?”

(OOC: Assuming the number three is thrown around.)

“Right away, sir,” Premwadee cheerily declares and calmly presses the large, green three on the touch panel. Unlike Sofía, Premwadee does not engage in conversation. She doesn’t even attempt to and the elevator compartment is filled with the odor of Cred Stick Charlie’s wet clothing and Premwadee’s flowery perfume accompanied by the dulcet sounds of a violinist with piano and electric guitar streaming from the hidden speakers.

Charlie finds himself on the third floor shortly thereafter. The elevator lobby is similar to the main floor lobby except for one minor detail; a damaged portion of the wall is being repaired by builder-nanos. Glancing at the holographic display of the floorplan, the well-dressed fixer quickly determines where he needs to go and proceeds there in short order. There are few people who pass him in the hall and those who do pay him no mind. They are secure in their little world within the Infinity Tower and most pay no mind to each other so how are they to know if he’s a resident or visitor. Either way, it’s none of their concern and they move on.

West Beach Garden is accessed through a long set of glass doors that Charlie can easily assume is bullet proof. True to his word, Si Jun-Yeong admits the fixer and Cred Stick Charlie’s ears are almost immediately buffeted by the sounds of birds chirping, his skin is kissed by a pleasant warm breeze, and the light overhead bathes him in simulated sunlight. Carefully manicured grass grows on either side of a pink cement path imprinted to look like stone. Park benches are placed every so often and as the fixer looks over the lay of the land, he’s impressed by how many people are actually in the park.

Beyond the grass are groomed trees with large shade footprints. The winding paths lead up to the treeline and through them towards the street outside of the building. Charlie can even catch glimpses of the mallplex through the trees. Again, he’s practically ignored as he progresses through the trees and emerges on the other side to a stretch of sandy beach and a man-made lagoon. People lounge about in swimwear and children play in the water here, but it isn’t the bikinis and skin that the fixer is interested in and he continues to look ahead, following the beach to the sandy path on the left that leads to the wide boardwalk and the open air of the city beyond.

As with most boardwalks, the ground beneath his high-end half-boots is wood. Benches line the wood rail (which sits just inside the Plexglass barrier between the outside world and the inside) and despite the architect program’s best efforts, their surfaces are wet from the rain being blown in. Here, too, people walk the length; some are arm-in-arm, and others are walking real animals or cyberpets, and still, others are leaning against the rail looking out on the city street twenty meters below, oblivious to the rainfall and the large air purification fans that filter out the pollutants from outside.

(OOC: Time is 6:08 PM PST)

Infinity Towers | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 5:57 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

 

 

Charlie holds his agent up to within a few inches of the receiving agent and commands the device to share his contact info.

 

“ I want return the favor, okay?” Dipping his head and looking through the thin drizzle of dirty rain water pouring from the brim of his hat, the fixer quickly negotiates the price of entrance down another twenty-five percent. Once the transaction is completed he offers up his future assistance once more.

 

“I meant it. Need anything in the future, just let me know.”

 

“Seriously? Maybe I will,” the guard replies as he holds his agent up to receive the data. “You shouldn’t get bothered by anyone, but if you do, you’re a guest of Ms. Holst. She’s practically senile and wouldn’t remember if you were her son.”

 

“ Thanks.”

 

Pressing a digital button on his flat screen panel opens the doors for the Native American fixer.

 

“Remember, choomba, this access will allow you into the building and when you get to the West Beach Garden on the third floor I’ll buzz you through.”

 

“Good luck, Bakuto.”

 

TechHair swirling in purple waves, the Asian returns his attention to his agent and Charlie shrugs off the clinging weather to step through the open portal.

 

A hold holdout of better times, the Infinity Towers is easily one of the higher-end buildings in this area of Night City. The lobby is more of an atrium with floating holographic plantlife overhead and designer-looking couches, chairs, and coffee tables arranged about pillars of smooth black marble with white and green veins. The lighting is more old-world chandelier style than modern display, though the LED energy-saving bulbs are certainly being used sharing a brighter, white light with the occupants. And occupants there are. A few of the people milling about in the lobby glance up as Cred Stick Charlie enters, but no one appears concerned and most, if not all, are confident in their security and feel that anyone let in is of no threat.

 

Luther removes his headgear and looks about the beauty of the architecture of the building, he smiles to himself as he continues taking in his new environment.  

 

Luther watches the crowd of personas move about and interact with each other and concludes that some of these patrons are possibly hired help or  solos working private security for the residents of the tower but they are definitely not part of the tower staff themselves. Many of them Luther could see were carrying various firearms but didn’t wear a name badge or tag like the others inside the Infinity Towers. But then again to Luther.... these were only his observations and assumptions leaving Luther yet another mental note that something else might be going on here, he would need to look  this over again soon.

 

Infinity Towers ownership must be trying to sell a lifestyle because there are actual human servers in uniforms mingling with the residents. The lobby is obviously intended as a social gathering place and as the fixer moseys through the maze of furniture and pillars, he finally catches sight of elevators embedded into the black marble tile walls of the room’s interior and makes his way right over to them. Approaching the lift’s jade plated doors, Luther takes in the Latino woman in a black business suit standing by the control panel wearing a digital name tag displaying her profile from the shoulders up, slowly rotating on a central axis and sharing her name as Sofía Carita, Hostess. Rotund and a bit puggish, the woman politely smiles as he arrives.

“Going up, sir?” she asks with a slight accent.

“ Yes young lady and thank you for your time and service here at the Tower”.

Once again he smiles at the latino woman

 

To luther, this woman wasn’t in per say “attractive” but one would never know,  who she knows... so he decides to chat the woman up a bit to see if she might consider him a interesting catch.

 

With a nod, Ms. Carita turns and pushes the button that Charlie could have pushed himself. “Are you enjoying your day, sir?”

 

I am now...Charile smirks ( *Flirting  

It was quickly apparent that this woman was NOT into his attempt to be charming.

 

Waiting on the elevator affords the pair some small talk. Sofía is very adept at drawing out just enough to keep the conversation flowing while not even scratching the surface of the participant’s private life. By the time the lift’s arrival is announced by a soft female voice saying, “Main Floor,” Cred Stick Charlie doesn’t know a thing about Ms. Carita and she doesn’t know a thing about him, but they haven’t had a moment of silence between them.

 

 

Stepping into the elevator, Luther is greeted by an average-looking woman in a similar black pantsuit with another digital name tag presenting her name as Premwadee Chuan. “Good evening, sir,” she chirps in a high voice. “What floor please?”

 

“ Floor three please...” answered Luther.

 

“Right away, sir,” Premwadee cheerily declares and calmly presses the large, green three on the touch panel. Unlike Sofía, Premwadee does not engage in conversation. She doesn’t even attempt to and the elevator compartment is filled with the odor of Cred Stick Charlie’s wet clothing and Premwadee’s flowery perfume accompanied by the dulcet sounds of a violinist with piano and electric guitar streaming from the hidden speakers.

 

Luther didn’t even attempt his charm on this one...

 

Charlie finds himself on the third floor shortly thereafter. The elevator lobby is similar to the main floor lobby except for one minor detail; a damaged portion of the wall is being repaired by builder-nanos. Glancing at the holographic display of the floorplan, the well-dressed fixer quickly determines where he needs to go and proceeds there in short order. There are few people who pass him in the hall and those who do pay him no mind. They are secure in their little world within the Infinity Tower and most pay no mind to each other so how are they to know if he’s a resident or visitor. Either way, it’s none of their concern and they move on.

 

West Beach Garden is accessed through a long set of glass doors that Charlie can easily assume is bullet proof. True to his word, Si Jun-Yeong admits the fixer and Cred Stick Charlie’s ears are almost immediately buffeted by the sounds of birds chirping, his skin is kissed by a pleasant warm breeze, and the light overhead bathes him in simulated sunlight. Carefully manicured grass grows on either side of a pink cement path imprinted to look like stone. Park benches are placed every so often and as the fixer looks over the lay of the land, he’s impressed by how many people are actually in the park.

 

Charlie takes this all in........ the breeze, the artificial sunlight....

“ Man... this is one nice place to relax” he told himself softly as he moved into  the gardens.

 

Beyond the grass are groomed trees with large shade footprints. The winding paths lead up to the treeline and through them towards the street outside of the building. Charlie can even catch glimpses of the mallplex through the trees. Again, he’s practically ignored as he progresses through the trees and emerges on the other side to a stretch of sandy beach and a man-made lagoon. People lounge about in swimwear and children play in the water here, but it isn’t the bikinis and skin that the fixer is interested in and he continues to look ahead, following the beach to the sandy path on the left that leads to the wide boardwalk and the open air of the city beyond.

 

And what do we have here?...

Luther began to examine the trees a bit more... ** hummmm** he thought more to himself as he moved in closer to inspect it...

 

Luther takes a closer examination of one of the faux trees and discovers that it might be a twin drone launcher in disguise for building security, perhaps?.

 

 

As with most boardwalks, the ground beneath his high-end half-boots is wood. Benches line the wood rail (which sits just inside the Plexglass barrier between the outside world and the inside) and despite the architect program’s best efforts, their surfaces are wet from the rain being blown in. Here, too, people walk the length; some are arm-in-arm, and others are walking real animals or cyberpets, and still, others are leaning against the rail looking out on the city street twenty meters below, oblivious to the rainfall and the large air purification fans that filter out the pollutants from outside.

 

(OOC: Time is 6:08 PM PST)

 

Charlie finds a quiet place to sit, an empty wooden bench near the wooden rail so that he can work in peace under the safety of the Infinity Towers.  Once he is settled in, he opens his laptop case and now begins getting his realtime feed.

 

With Charlie centered on Infinity Towers and his drone flying over all three buildings (Wolf Point Plaza, Tranquil Grotto Building and Infinity Towers).   Now Luther is able to view all three buildings from a bird’s eye view and he feels at ease after his connection is made. Now charlie goes to work and begins to identify potential targets, look for his teammates and ........

 

“ Alrighty people.... Let’s find out where everyone is...”

 

 

• Action: Charlie tries to reach the others by “breaking squelch” twice. What this does for most radio operators  is allow anyone listening to take notice because a message will follow.

 

• “Charile’s up”. Luther "marked up" on the channel and hoped that  one of his team mates would answer to let him know if anything was going on.

 

 

 

With a quick survey, charlie isn’t able to see anyone that he recognises.  Charile then glances to his time piece..

 

6:08 timestamp

   Ghlan moved into the room after cutting teh lock.  It seemed that for some reason security was higher than expected in the building.  Moving towards the bank of windows he found his luck going from bad to worse.  The windows did not open.  There was littel time to search for another vantage point and it was unlikely that the other rooms had windows of a differant sort.  Resigning hmself to the inevitable he examined the window to determine if a torch would melt the glass.  It was worth chance.  The only other options were to smash tryto cut the window, break the window or simply watch and if needed break the window with a quick first shot.  Takeing out the torch he heated the glass until it was soft enough to give and made a small hole.

Tranquil Grotto | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 March 8th(Saturday), 6:10 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.) Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

With the fifth floor a total bust Casino decided nothing to do but head up to the 6^th floor and hope to find an open spot or room to over-watch from. However his plan was quickly put on hold as the large solo turned to make his way back to the elevators, a voice and person stopped him.

“Holy s***! You startled the hell outta me, solo. You a f****** solo, right? You look like a f****** solo. S***! You here to croak someone? F***. Can I watch?”

Maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, the young man making his declaration of surprise wears a red, green, and white leather jacket. His head is shaved into a short mohawk that’s been dyed neon green. He’s of Indian heritage or a half-breed, and hovering over his left shoulder is a SkyWorm cybernetic companion—a six-inch drone that acts as an entertainment device, recording device, and net link. Having controlled his first instinct to kill the kid all he could do was talk. Being a bad lier Casino would take a chance and tell the truth.

“Nay kid not here to kill anyone, just looking for a place to watch that building across the way” The big solo replied casually.“Hey, maybe you can help me, know any good watch spots?”

Having started with the kindness act, Fixer decided he might as well continue with the good cop routine.  He went over and leaned on a chair near their host.  "Everything we've heard about the kid seems positive.  He seems like a nice kid, although, at the moment, you seem to have the most personal comment about him we've heard.  It doesn't seem like he had many people to talk to.  Except you a bit, perhaps."  He paused to think a bit.  "Parental rights?  You mean like he was asking about getting free from their control?   One of those 'divorce your parents' sort of things?  Have I got the right idea?"  He shook his head.  "Ouch.  If you thought he didn't have a lot of friends at school, it kinda sound like he didn't have 'em at home either.  Any idea why?  Or do you know anything about his parents?"

(Assuming a response)

Hearing the teachers response, he had a couple of followup questions.  "Since you teach law, even if corporate and family law aren't the same thing, I suppose you were a logical person to ask.  And a friend to him, which probably helped as well.  What did you tell him about it?  What are his options?"

(Assuming some response.)

"Is there anyone else he might have asked about this?  Either someone you told him to talk to or maybe a logical other person on staff to ask?  Or someone in the neighborhood?  Honestly, we don't have much to go on and right now this might be Jace's best shot."  

(Once he gets whatever he can out of the teacher, if nothing else has happened to upset him and nobody has gone into the back room he would follow up with the following . . )

"We don't want to upset your wife any.  It looks like things are tough enough there already.  But, if your going to let us look around, we really need to get a look in the back room.  Is there a way to do that without upsetting her?  I don't know if it helps or hurts to play to her fantasy.  Be part of the game world, you know?  But, for Jace's sake, a quick look would be great."  He pasued, "I guess there is no chance that Jace knew her?  No, just grasping at straws.  The clock is ticking on this one."