Vegas stopped in his tracks as he heard Blossom exclaim, "Frak!" Blossom whispers and looks up sharply from her agent's screen. "We may have a problem, my little go-boys. Looks like students reside on campus."

The Frank Sinatra look alike back tracked from the door, removed his fedora from his head, holding it in his right hand, while extending his left arm with open palm in a chivalrous sweeping bow, then with a broad smile, he approached the beautiful Blossom and began crooning:

Fools Rush In [link to Frank Sinatra]

"'Romance is a game for fools', I used to say
A game I thought I'd never play

"'Romance is a game for fools', I said and grinned
Then you passed by and here I am
Throwing caution through the wind

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread
And so I come to you, my love
My heart above my head

"Though I see the danger there
If there's a chance for me
Then I don't care

"Fools rush in where wise men never go
But wise men never fall in love
So how are they to know

"When we met I felt my life begin
So open up your heart
And let this fool rush in"

Vegas bowed as his eyes remained fixed on Blossom, smiling a broad smile, before returning his fedora atop his head, before tipping his fedora once again to the beauty.

"Might as well join us at the Rat Pack Nightclub tonight my love ... for a little dance ... maybe a little romance ... and some much needed secret info ... that may help all of us ... after I talk to my Contact and get a feel for what may be going on behind the scenes!"

Vegas did a little 'soft shoe' routine dance to add a bit of emphasis, while trying to lighten the mood.

"Besides, it might be best to go to the Bartholomew School during the daylight hours.

"Echo and the Techie may be able to pose as prospective patrons for their 'child' ... distracting the authorities with the presence of an armed security squad ... namely the rest of us ... to lend credence to their cover of being wealthy and influential ... while you find a way to hack into the system and find some possible buried leads as to the disappearance of Jase ..."

Vegas paused for some more dramatic effect before concluding:

"Or ... you could take a rain check on the dance ... and romance ... by proceeding to the Bartholomew School with Echo ... plus whoever else you may trust to help you under the cover of darkness ... and try to hack their system ... while Casino and Me ... trip the light fantastic at the Rat Pack ... with anyone else who wants to poke around with us ... for any leads from the seedier side of life!"

Vegas began another 'slow soft shoe shuffle' somewhat aimlessly towards the door, as he awaited the response from the rest of the group of gathered mercenaries, as the Frank Sinatra look alike resumed humming the lyrics to 'Fools Rush In'.

"If you think you can handle yourselves solo," Blossom said as she looked from Vegas to Casino. "And it looks like you do, then I'd like to pass on the dancing and make a run out to Bartholomew with the rest of the crew."

Blossom took the rest of the crew in. She already counting on Echo coming with her, but she figured she should ask the other runners. "You joy-boys up for a run at the school? Or would you rather dancing and romancing with Blue Eyes?"

OOC: Brom, Blossom would also like to make of search of common social media sites popular with kids, using "Jase" and his image to try and find Jase's profile.

"If you think you can handle yourselves solo," Blossom said as she looked from Vegas to Casino. "And it looks like you do, then I'd like to pass on the dancing and make a run out to Bartholomew with the rest of the crew."

Blossom took the rest of the crew in. She already counting on Echo coming with her, but she figured she should ask the other runners. "You joy-boys up for a run at the school? Or would you rather dancing and romancing with Blue Eyes?"

Vegas tipped his fedora to Blossom and replied, "Casino and I can handle going solo ... or working as a team ... with one ... or more ... or all of you!"

He refrained from whispering another private discussion with his long-time partner, figuring that Casino was already on the same page about what was in their best interests to do to find Jase.

"So what will it be Partner," Vegas called out to Casino, "Rat Pack or Bartolomew?"

"Lets do the Rat Pack," Looking once again at Mathis "Care to join us Mathis? We can work on our trust issues."

Though Casino figured he and Vegas could do the club on their own it never hurt to have a third person with them in case the s*** hit the fan. Casino also wanted to see the Uzi equipped runner in ‘action' and better get his measure. The big solo admitted to himself he could have been too fast with his tongue and wanted to give Mathis the benefit of the doubt without the rest of the group around.

"So whata say Mathis, up to a little night life?"

"Frak!" Blossom whispers and looks up sharply from her agent's screen. "We may have a problem, my little go-boys. Looks like students reside on campus."

That did not sound like such a good thing to James. Students on campus could be caught in crossfire if a shootout occurred, but this was supposed to be a silent run. NO FIREFIGHTS. Still, things did not always go according to plan. James had lost count of the number of times things had gone wrong for him.

The pretty bird, Vegas, began crooning in a rather decent tone. His voice was not all bad, it was something he could listen to in an amateur club and not walk away disappointed. James was unable to place the song or who had originally sung it, but it sounded like something old; not this music that runners listened to nowadays, all hard instrumentals with the singer screaming into his mic. A peacock, that's what James was reminded of by the man. And now, he was trying to peacock up the netrunner Blossom. As long as business was done, James did not much care what kind of relationships were started.

With his tune finished, Vegas started in on his thoughts, ",..for any leads from the seedier side of life." He did a little bit of shuffling towards the door while continuing to hum the song he had been singing before.

James listened and observed as he was prone to do. His near photographic memory storing everything away for later. He was not usually rash to action, considering the implications of what his choices may bring. This was the first real job offer that he had had in some time though, something that would do more than just ‘pay his bills'. Perhaps, just perhaps, this would get his name out there for a bit something bigger. No time to second guess things now.

"So whata say Mathis, up to a little night life?" Casino called him out. Just moments ago, the man was disagreeing with him on not wanting to pay for the entire group's transpo. He could not help but ponder at the man's motive now. Was he truly welcome? Or did the man just want to keep him in arm's reach out of distrust? (OOC: Not sure how this works, what would amount to a sense motive check on a d20 system, and how it would work against another player) He was not the most handy in a fight, but he might be able to pick up something that the other two might miss. His mind tended to pick up a bit more than others.

Vegas was an Edgerunner, or else had gained the trust of an enclave, and he trusted Vegas. Perhaps he could give him a chance. Three would be safer than two, and a gang could pack just as much heat an armed Corpo security force. "I suppose I could run with you, Casino. That oldcybe might croak on you, and then where'd you be. Besides, expecting trouble?" The smirk at the quip on the runner he knew would be noticed. James did not much care though. The gear in his bag would help the Bartholemew group out if they ran into security lock issues, but he was not going to trust out a thousand eb of gear to people he had just met though.

"Doc can pose as a father just as well as I can."

As the two solo's and the techie headed for the doorway Casino stopped and looked at the four other team members still in the room

"Just a suggestion. If I were running the Bartholomew insertion, I'd say two of you on over watch, the sniper Ghlahn for sure and Bloodbank as medical back-up. Blossom you and Echo head in as two pretty normal college girls. Though you will without a doubt draw attention, you two are less likely to seem out of place on a college campus then four people carrying guns, one of them clearly a sniper weapon. Then while Blossom hits the school's records, Echo you cover her back. Just a suggestion."

With that the big solo moved out the door followed by Mathis and Vegas............

Night City Integrate | Undercity | OceanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 12:02 AM 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)

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

It has been decided. Led by the soft-shoe, the newly formed team steps from the shack of a smelly office back into the factory setting of the fish processing plant. The first thing that you easily take notice of is that there are no more of the Gray Samurai about running security. Workers in white overcoats with waterproof gloves and cheap air filtration masks barely cast glances your way as you exit the building. They know better than to engage with strange, dangerous-looking people. They are the sheep with digital dreams that make up the ninety-nine percent, and they are content with their stock in life.

A slight misting of rainwater has made it through the numerous structures overhead. It feels sticky and slightly acidic; a reminder that the air quality is poor. The street is cracked and mended with a series of tarsnakes. It glistens and reflects the ghostly lights of Midcity overhead in pools of oil-tainted puddles. You've entered into the wee hours of a Saturday morning in Night City. Just because it's after midnight doesn't mean that the city sleeps. On the contrary, this is the Witching Hour. This is the time that the more colorfully dangerous elements start to prowl. In OceanZone they're called Sharks. Predators that hunt through the streets, graze the docks, and bring nightmares with them.

Casino, Vegas, and Fixer take your leave. There's a walk ahead for all of you. The nearest public transit tube is a good twenty from your 10-20, but you three are going in the opposite direction from the others. Sightseeing isn't an option. You've a mission on hand and the clock waits for no man. Casino's size is a plus. Three of you together is also playing in your favor. However, there's always the potential of some drugged out punk going ballistic so it's best to keep eyes peeled. And it pays off.

Nearly fifteen-minutes into your progress, Casino catches sight of a lurker trying his best to vanish into the darker recesses of the mouth of an alley you three were destined to cross. The being's intent stare triggered the large solo's Spidey Senses, and moments later his Amped Vision spots additional figures within easy response time. It is most certainly an ambush, but one that is put off with a quick showdown. The posers are dressed to kill, wearing clothing that dates back further than Vegas' attire with ruffles and frills, half-capes, and canes. Their teeth are filed to points, or dental inserts have been added, giving them vampire fangs—a couple may have even had cybernetic Vampires®, and chances are (seeing as how they are Vampire Posers) they likely had boosted reflexes, even adjusted internal organs to give them the appearance of immortality. It could have been bloody, but instead the encounter ends with hissing, a show of strength, and passing the lair by, leaving the vamps to prey on some other unlucky soul.

For Blossom, Bloodbank, Echo, and Ghlahn the walk from the fish factory to your first stop is much less eventful. An alleycat is startled, two junkies are run off by a smirking Ghlahn, and a couple of doors are opened, and quickly closed at the sight of you, but you reach the Wall-to-Wall Mart unmolested, so that counts for something.

The superstore is tucked into the base of a monstrous gray NuCrete® building with faded blue steel supports that ram straight into the underside of the overhanging residential pods above. There's routes into the store's underground parking garages on either side and some ground vehicles are still making their way in and out. Even at close to 12:30 AM the store is bustling with all walks of life entering and exiting. Undercity's Wall-to-Wall Marts are protected by imposing Mechs, usually supplied by the mother corporation, Simco Supplies, LTD. In this case, there's an impressive four-legged walking armory standing guard at the front scanning each and every individual that enters the store. Security is not taken lightly when any major mishaps could deter the 99% from returning to an outlet and spending their hard-earned paycheck on necessities. Luckily, entering the store isn't on the agenda.

To the left of the entrance are a series of vending machines. Everything from designer, low caliber handguns to chipware can be purchased through vending machines. In this case, Blossom is looking for a disposable SINcard dispenser. One hundred and ten NCDs later and the bubbly little netrunner is the proud owner of a bright pink, Bubblegum Diaries branded SINcard with one hundred Night City Dollars attached. Now it's time to catch the train, and you're in luck. A public transit tube runs right through to the store's location. To get to the train station nearest Bartholomew School costs four NCDs apiece. From there, you have a twenty-minute walk taking you through two security checkpoints. The first checkpoint is leaving the transit tube. The second is on the main street fifteen-minutes into your journey.

Your section of the train is cast in a pale white glow of poorly-powered LED lighting. The air about you has an electric feel to it and an odor to match. If you try to get on the train without paying for your first stop, the door emits an electrical charge that will send you backwards a few steps. Citizens have learned to enter one at a time, and to provide those in front with plenty of room to be expelled. Blossom foots the bill for the lot of you and you're in.

The seats are a hard, dark blue plastic. They're scarred, graffitied, and mistreated, but they are secure. Garbage wrappers float about underneath like discarded ghosts; speedsheets, maps, and food wrappers are among them. There are fluids as well. Undecipherable, smelly, liquids pooled in places where the flooring has sunk. Some are dark, at least one might contain blood, but all are easily avoided. Along with the faint lighting, the car is cast in various hues and shades as the entire ceiling and upper portions of the walls are lit with various digital advertising. Old Spice Male Hygeine Kits, women's hair removal products, clothing lines, vacation suites, LEO packages, they bombard you with their constant marketing, and each includes an Agent Ordering Code for immediate purchase.

The Rat Pack Night Club | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 1:12 AM 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)

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

Three NCDs apiece (nine total) and Time. That's the expense to reach the Rat Pack Night Club. The tier within which the club resides is primarily shops, restaurants, and other clubs. The main street doesn't connect directly with a roundabout which means that you three had to hoof it down adjacent streets in order to reach your destination. The exterior of the building is done up in an art deco style with neon tubes about the windows and a damp, water-droplet covered canopy over the door. Robots are expensive and the domain of mega or neo corps. Night club owners still stick with meatsuits to guard their investment. That's who greets you. Two huge black bouncers with OldCybe apparent in their wired smartguns and optic visors. These two are vaguely familiar, and seem to recognize Vegas and Casino, so you're allowed in without delay and only a ten NCD covercharge instead of the usual fifteen.

The Rat Pack is hopping. Denizens of Night City dressed in zoot suits and evening dresses flit about the dance floor while a Sammy Davis, Jr. look-alike croons Mr. Bojangles from a brightly lit stage. About the dance floor many clubbers are nursing drinks in cushioned booths with neon light accents while conversing over the sultry sounds of Mr. Show Business. Through all of this it takes a moment for Vegas to spot Chela, and it takes you finding a booth in her area, and another couple of minutes for her to reach you, before you can strike up conversation.

"Well, hello there, Vegas!" Chela smiles sweetly as she quickly leans in and kisses your cheek lightly so as not to leave any of the bright red lipstick she's wearing on your skin. "Casino! It's good to see you two lugs. It's been a while." Her friendly brown eyes fall on Fixer and she makes a quick assessment. "Who's your dour friend, love? And what can I get you boys to drink. You look like you could use a stiff one."

The Train | Night City Integrate | Undercity into Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 12:35 - 1:12 AM 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)

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

Your train car is much the same as the others'. Blue seats, trash, an odor in the air that paints your tongue with rancid flavor and a sensory depravating array of video advertising. Ghlahn and Echo take either side almost naturally, and add opposite sides of the car to the setup just in case leaving Blossom and Bloodbank to sit between them. This is the time that the netrunner uses to her advantage: odd-time.

Unrolling her SmartKeyboard from her bracer, Bloosom links into her agent and immediately ties her deck into the WiFi. Information presents itself using an algorithm designed by a company called NoSpi Media that splits content into public and private information displays. The neural link allows Blossom to immediately direct the search results either to her agent's screen, or to display in the optic splice for her eyes only.

Administration:
Principal: Ms. Casey Falicia White (C.F. White, Major Shareholder) - She's apparently a private person. No social media, a few press releases on the school mention her, but there's very little about her in particular. She could have paid to be kept out of the spotlight, or she could just not have much to do with publicity.

Counciler: Mrs. Ria Delahoz - Ria has a number of social media sites and is quite prolific when it comes to posting about her family. She comes across as a great mother and wife with two children who are both enrolled at the Bartholomew School. The eldest, Sofia, is 10 and the younger, Abran is 7. Her husband, Emilio, is a computer technician for Birnedito Systems, Inc.

Operations Manager: Mrs. Pallavi Sem - Pallavi is of Indian descent. She's middle-aged, Hindu according to her single social media page, a widow with no children.

Receptionists:
Mrs. Shacora Murray - a black woman with a husband (Jévon) who works as a mortician for the St. Mary's Night City Integrate Hospital, and one college-aged son (Davarius) who attends Night City College majoring in Veterinary Science.

Mrs. Macy Green - an elderly woman with a retired husband (Patrick) who used to work for the city in the foster care system. She has three grown children; Ryan (an exotic dancer at the Polarized club in Undercity), Dennis (a researcher at Fen Pesticides), and Rosie (who is currently incarcerated for burglary).

Teachers:
Math - Mr. Arthur Fraser: Married to Mira (a blogger), father of a 2-year old named Lacey.
English - Ms. Elyse Perry: graduate from Night City College with a Masters in English. Currently unattached with no children.
Science - Mrs. Chanita Graham: Married to Brandon (an architect with Share Architecture). No children.
Art - Ms. Eliana Hodge: Graduate from University of New York with a Masters of Arts. Currently unattached with no children.
Music - Mr. Shovon Dillard: Married to Shacora (a Night City Police Officer, Traffic Division). No children.
Physical Education, Male - Coach Manolo Agosto: married to Chela (aircraft engineer at Night City Municipal), one son who also attends Bartholomew (Romeo, age 10).
Physical Education, Female - Coach Kolina Awana: graduate from University of Hawaii in Physical Ed. with a masters. Currently unattached with no children.

Janitorial Crew:
Lead: Peter Palmer - single, no children. Works for the Stronglang Group that provides corporate cleaning services.
Maximia Scato - Wife of Grumio (a conservationist working for GoodTech). They have two children who attend public school: Modia (age 9, female) and Armenia (age 6, female).
Acura Owens - single, no children.

Security is offered by IntCOP. Unfortunately, the only thing you can pull up on the security company is their homepage which offers generic information typical for any security company. You'll need to be onsite to get more. The school site, however, does indicate that they have a closed campus that requires visitors to either have pre-cleared clearance (such as that provided the student's parents), or an appointment with one of the staff. They routinely search children's dorms for paraphernalia, weapons, and other dangerous items, and there are metal detectors at the entrance of every building.

The school is privately owned, and its registered owner is listed as InTech.

Maps of the campus are provided to parents upon enrolling their students, so you can't access any maps, and the publicity photos of the school put it in a core with a clear geodesic dome that provides some direct sunlight, trees, and a more traditional look to the buildings within the campus that are visible over the wall.

The following searches return...

- "Jase" "Bartholomew School for Advanced Studies" "Missing": Nothing.
- "Bartholomew School for Advanced Studies" "High City" "Schematics": Nothing.
- "Bartholomew School for Advanced Studies" "High City" "News": Various awards for academic achievement, past musical performances, an upcoming art show (three weeks out).
- "Bartholomew School for Advanced Studies" "High City" "Successful Run Against" (this would be done on the equivalent of the Dark Web): Nothing.
- image search on "Jase"'s picture (both normal and dark web): Nothing.
- Social Media sites return many a Jase, but none matching the identity of the child in your dossier.

Echo keeps a close eye on the three other occupants in the car outside of her group. Two of them are male. One is wearing a shabby-looking suit with worn black shoes. He is an older man with gray streaking his hair and a little overweight. He doesn't appear to be a threat. The second is younger—probably in his early twenties—wearing coveralls with a corporate logo for Saillax, a boat maintenance and repair company. He just looks tired and keeps putting his head in his hands. The third is a bright eyed young woman wearing a gray pantsuit and carrying a bright red purse. She's so focused on her agent that she doesn't appear to notice anyone else in the train. Everyone has their life that they'd prefer not be interrupted, Echo notes before turning to her companions.

"So," she elongates the oooo just a little. "How are we planning to handle the checkpoints?"

The Rat Pack Night Club | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 1:12 AM 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)


Three NCDs apiece (nine total) and Time. That's the expense to reach the Rat Pack Night Club. The tier within which the club resides is primarily shops, restaurants, and other clubs. The main street doesn't connect directly with a roundabout which means that you three had to hoof it down adjacent streets in order to reach your destination. The exterior of the building is done up in an art deco style with neon tubes about the windows and a damp, water-droplet covered canopy over the door. Robots are expensive and the domain of mega or neo corps. Night club owners still stick with meatsuits to guard their investment. That's who greets you. Two huge black bouncers with OldCybe apparent in their wired smartguns and optic visors. These two are vaguely familiar, and seem to recognize Vegas and Casino, so you're allowed in without delay and only a ten NCD covercharge instead of the usual fifteen.

The Rat Pack is hopping. Denizens of Night City dressed in zoot suits and evening dresses flit about the dance floor while a Sammy Davis, Jr. look-alike croons Mr. Bojangles from a brightly lit stage. About the dance floor many clubbers are nursing drinks in cushioned booths with neon light accents while conversing over the sultry sounds of Mr. Show Business. Through all of this it takes a moment for Vegas to spot Chela, and it takes you finding a booth in her area, and another couple of minutes for her to reach you, before you can strike up conversation.

"Well, hello there, Vegas!" Chela smiles sweetly as she quickly leans in and kisses your cheek lightly so as not to leave any of the bright red lipstick she's wearing on your skin. "Casino! It's good to see you two lugs. It's been a while." Her friendly brown eyes fall on Fixer and she makes a quick assessment. "Who's your dour friend, love? And what can I get you boys to drink. You look like you could use a stiff one."

It was at times like these (of the non-encounter with the Vamps) when Vegas was more than glad that Casino was his partner.

Although he was confident that he and his partner were well able to locate the fate of Jase on their own, the Frank Sinatra look-alike was glad to have Fixer included.

In fact, although he was reluctant to try to get through the High City security checkpoints with the weapons that he and Casino would refuse to surrender, he was also glad that Blossom and her Companions in this venture were willing enough to take the chance of somehow passing through the security checkpoints unhindered, so that they could penetrate the secrets of the Bartholomew School and possibly get a lead or clues to the mysterious disappearance of Jase.

Vegas was hoping that the beautiful Blossom would make it back unharmed, because he would enjoy the opportunity of showing her the sights and possibly getting a 'dance or two' with some sweet soft shoe, but business was business.

As they made their way along the streets towards the Rat Pack Night Club, the Suited Solo made some extra effort to thank Fixer for his help with the Creds for Transport; plus engage the Techie in some casual conversation in regards to the quaint atmosphere of the Rat Pack Night Club, all in an effort to 'break the ice' in such a manner as to allow Fixer to bond with the dynamic duo (drawing him in as an 'equal' partner) instead of leaving him feel as if he were the 'odd man out' in this venture.

Vegas also made sure that he sent a 'report' to Starlight via his Agent, informing The Fixer that the threesome were on their way to the Rat Pack Night Club, where they would gather some info and await her shipment of the Taser and 3 Grenades for his buddy Casino.

As soon as they arrived, he tipped his Fedora and did a bit of a 'soft shoe' as he greeted the two Burly Black Bouncers, engaging them in a short, but familiar, exchange of friendly banter and indicated that Fixer was with him and Casino, allowing for a discount on the cover charge for the Techie also.

Vegas was now in his element as the Frank Sinatra look-alike seemed to transform and blend in with all the Denizens of Night City dressed in zoot suits and evening dresses, flitting about the dance floor, while a Sammy Davis Jr look-alike crooned the familiar tune of Mr. Bojangles, one of Vegas' favorites.

Mr. Bojangles [link to Sammy Davis Jr]

Vegas alertly spotted his Contact named Chela, then led Casino and Fixer to a cushioned booth with neon lights, where the waitress was able to reach them and strike up a conversation, without arousing any suspicions, if there were any suspicious 'eyes' watching.

Vegas enjoyed the light kiss planted on his cheek, smelling the many fragrances adorning Chela that she had collected during her rounds this night, before answering her question:

"Well Love ... it has been way too long since we have seen your smiling face too."

Vegas looked longingly into her deep brown eyes before continuing the conversation:

"The Handle of my dour friend here is Fixer.

"Fixer, this is Chela.

"As for a stiff one ... make mine ... Bourbon on the Rocks!

"What about you boys?"


((OOC: Edited and Re-Written with Info Provided by Brom))

Vegas leaned forward towards Chela to enjoy a playful nibble at her right ear, while whispering huskily, "Hey Babe ... Any Choombas here at the Rat Pack into keeping company with young boys?"

Chela giggled, playfully pushing aside the Suited Solo's amorous advance, before returning another light kiss on his cheek with her own husky reply:

"Listen, sugar. You didn't hear this from me, but there's a cat with a pretty dark side that's resting his feet back at Table Nine. He goes by Dauntless Dog, and he's a player for the Mob as I hear tell. He's got a couple of Thicks with him that run interference should anyone try to get close, and they don't look like no carpetbaggers either. I've caught pieces of convo when setting him up and it would seem to me that his interests run a little young. He's cold as a naked Eskimo, Vegas-baby, and if I was you, I'd steer clear."

"What's the chance of you setting up a meet for me Darling?"

Chela tried to hide the alarm in her eyes and voice as the waitress placed a pen on the table in front of Vegas, along with a cocktail napkin.

"I suggest you buy Dog a White Russian to sweeten your request. I can deliver both his favorite drink and your message at the same time Honey!"

Vegas responded to her cue by writing a simple message with a flamboyant flair of the pen upon the cocktail napkin:

'Where would I find some fresh and untainted young boy?'

Chela leaned over discreetly to palm the napkin, while she asked Casino and Fixer for their drink order.

Meanwhile, the Sammy Davis Jr look-alike had vacated the microphone after a steady round of applause for his closing number.

The Stage Manager and MC, a fellow by the name of Tonell Dunn (who goes by the Handle of Dunn), waited for the applause to die down, before making a special announcement to the gathered throng of Rat Packers:

"Ladeez and Gentlemen ... We Have a Slight Intermission ... Before Our Next Performer Comes ... But I See an Old Friend and Crooner ... Who May Be Persuaded to Sing Us a Tune!"

Dunn motioned with both hands for the crowd to respond with a great round of applause to persuade the Unknown Crooner to accept the invitation that Dunn was offering!

As the Rat Packers looked around the room with quizzical expressions as to who Dunn was referring to, the MC played the crowd for all they were worth, before proceeding as the applause died down:

"VEGAS ... Come On Down ... Sing Us a Song!"

Slowly, the Frank Sinatra look-alike stood to his feet, excusing himself from the table, while playing along to the crowd at the urging of Dunn.

The Suited Solo did a slow soft shoe for the spotlight that was panning over the crowd, before joining Dunn at the microphone.

Vegas thanked Dunn and the gracious crowd of Rat Packers, before launching into his introductory monologue to break the ice, before singing an old Frank Sinatra Hit Song:

((OOC: Notice the Link Below and Frank Sinatra's comments to the audience before he begins singing, especially about performing in front of unarmed people! This is the approach Vegas is taking to his performance on stage at the Rat Pack Night Club))

That's Life [link to Frank Sinatra]

The cheap, blue plastic creaked and groaned slightly when Bloodbank settled into his seat between Glahn and Blossom. The disgusting state of the public transportation was something that the MedTech was, unfortunately, used to, but the overwhelming stench and filthiness still was enough to cause him to unconsciously crinkle his nose. Bloodbank let a bemused half-smile play onto his lips and glanced at Blossom.

"Traveling like royalty, eh?" he stated, raising his eyebrows slightly before handing over a couple of Night City Dollars. "For my ticket cost." he explained.

Bloodbank leaned back into the hard plastic, and rubbed his chin. There were three other people in the train car besides the Edgerunners, all of whom seemed to be pretty uninterested in the other inhabitants of fluorescent lit train car. That didn't quite convince Bloodbank, though, who had been around long enough to know that, indeed, looks could be deceiving. Silently, Bloodbank studied them.

((OOC: Human Perception check. 1d10+11. Rolled a 2. 13 total. Bloodbank is apparently paying close attention today.))

"So," Echo stated, elongating the oooo just a little. "How are we planning to handle the checkpoints?"

Leaning forward to peer past Blossom and look at Echo, Bloodbank bit the inside of his cheek. "Well," he said in a low voice. "I personally think that we'd do best by slipping through the maintenance tunnels. Usually, in my experience, those are locked up tight, though. So, we'd need to think up of a way to distract the guards while we make our way in. As for that, though, well..." Bloodbank glanced at Blossom. "I was thinking that you might be able to take control of one of the mechs and cause a bit of a diversion by the actual checkpoint. Perhaps a small, unnoticeable construct. Like a fly or somethin' that can fly around and land on a mech, giving you the access. Or, is that not how it works? I admit, I'm better with people then machines." He grinned, and leaned back again, his eyes still on Blossom.

It was now early Saturday morning as the group of newly founded compatriots split into two groups, each following a different lead. Before the group split (assuming they all approve), James made sure to gain the numbers for each of the group members agents and programmed them in. Communication was too important of a tool and each group would need to share its discoveries with the other if something important reared its face. He noticed how his agent was a bit faster than those of the others; James had paid top dollar for it as he enjoyed some of its other purposes as well.

As James headed out with Casino and Vegas, he slipped his mask back up to cover his face and filter out the pollution that littered the air here in the undercity. His mirrorshades once again were pulled down over his eyes, and the grey hood of his jacket was pulled up to hide his other features. "Alright, friends, let us get this show on the road." The words rang hollow even to him. He did not have any friends in this life; they all seemed to turn on him or show up dead.

Seeing as how this was the time when the less savory element came out, James pulled free his Uzi and reslung it over his jacket. He hoped it would serve as a possible deterrent to any who had hopes of jumping them. A show of firepower sometimes served to convince those that would mean him harm to look another way. James unfolded the stock and pulled the weapon secure into his shoulder and at the ready. Though he had no experience with combat with the weapon, he still knew the basics that Brayden had showed him. It took a slow, deep breath to calm his nerves.

The small group was not too far into their walk when Casino pointed figures crouching in the darkness. The Vampire posers hissed at them and slinked back into the shadows to wait for some other poor fool to prey in. This was not Jame's concern. He may feel sorry for whomever they chose, but he would not know them, would not be burdened by their suffering.

Nothing else happened as the group traveled to the night club. Fixer's credchip held nine less credits than it had before, 3 a piece. He held his tongue for the time and would hope to reimbursed come the end of the run, whether they failed or succeeded. They went to enter the club and were charged another then creds. 'Not even a solid lead yet, and already down nearly twenty credits. Need to get something fast or may not be worth the run.' The thought ran through James's head, but he knew that any high paying run would incur its own costs.

Those that visited the Rat Pack held the same look as Vegas, with those flitty suits and fancy shoes. This must be where he gets the look. The clean air of the club let James slip the mask down off of his face, and once again he breathed unfiltered air. It was still not time for him to relax and let down his guard.

"Well, hello there, Vegas!" Chela smiles sweetly as she quickly leans in and kisses your cheek lightly so as not to leave any of the bright red lipstick she's wearing on your skin. "Casino! It's good to see you two lugs. It's been a while." Her friendly brown eyes fall on Fixer and she makes a quick assessment. "Who's your dour friend, love? And what can I get you boys to drink. You look like you could use a stiff one."


"Well Love ... it has been way too long since we have seen your smiling face too."

Vegas looked longingly into her deep brown eyes before continuing the conversation:

"The Handle of my dour friend here is Fixer.

"Fixer, this is Chela.

"As for a stiff one ... make mine ... Bourbon on the Rocks!

"What about you boys?"

Fixer replied with a short, "A clean water, on the rocks." He did not drink even when things were chill, and now they were on the job. He would not judge those that did however, everybody had their own habits and faults. He would, however, keep an eye out on their surrounding and the full crowd, never could be too cautious. Trust was a hard commodity to buy.

(OOC: Okay, going to keep up an active awareness. Make rolls as needed. James don't trust anybody, after being worked over so much. He expects trouble.)

The Rat Pack Night Club | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 1:17 AM 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)

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

"Well Love," Vegas responded glibly to Chela's friendly greeting. "It has been way too long since we have seen your smiling face too."

"Ever the sweet-talker," Chela shifted weight from her left foot to her right while Vegas looked longingly into her deep brown eyes.

"The Handle of my dour friend here is Fixer," the dapper solo demurely mumbled just loud enough to be heard over Sammy 2.0. "Fixer, this is Chela. As for a stiff one...make mine...bourbon on the rocks! What about you boys?"

Fixer replied with a short, quick, unjudging order, "A clean water, on the rocks." He did not drink even when things were chill, and now they were on the job. He would not judge those that did however, everybody had their own habits and faults. He would, however, keep an eye out on their surrounding and the full crowd, never could be too cautious. Trust was a hard commodity to buy.

"Make mine a rum and coke," Casino requested with a friendly nod. Chela was always polite to him, but the big gunman knew that she was really Vegas' friend, and if the cards were to hit the table wrong for him—unless Vegas' situation was on the line too—Chela was as reliable as anyone else in this club.

Vegas leaned forward towards Chela to enjoy a playful nibble at her right ear, while whispering huskily, "Hey Babe... Any choombas here at the Rat Pack into keeping company with young boys?"

Chela giggled, playfully pushing aside the Suited Solo's amorous advance, before returning another light kiss on his cheek with her own husky reply, "Listen, sugar. You didn't hear this from me, but there's a cat with a pretty dark side that's resting his feet back at Table Nine. He goes by Dauntless Dog, and he's a player for the Mob as I hear tell. He's got a couple of Thicks with him that run interference should anyone try to get close, and they don't look like no carpetbaggers either. I've caught pieces of convo when setting him up and it would seem to me that his interests run a little young. He's cold as a naked Eskimo, Vegas-baby, and if I was you, I'd steer clear."

"What's the chance of you setting up a meet for me Darling?"

Chela tried to hide the alarm in her eyes and voice as the waitress placed a pen on the table in front of Vegas, along with a cocktail napkin. "I suggest you buy Dog a White Russian to sweeten your request. I can deliver both his favorite drink and your message at the same time, honey. But I sure wish you wouldn't as sweet Virgin Mary is my witness."

Vegas responded to her cue by writing a simple message with a flamboyant flair of the pen upon the cocktail napkin: Where would I find some fresh and untainted young boy? The message was bold, to the point, and very risky.

Chela leaned over discreetly to palm the napkin without looking at the message and retrieved her pen while she was at it. Meanwhile, the Sammy Davis Jr. look-alike had vacated the microphone after a steady round of applause for his closing number.

The Stage Manager and MC, a black fellow wearing a gray pin-striped zootsuit with slicked back, product-filled hair by the name of Tonell Dunn, waited for the applause to die down, before making a special announcement to the gathered throng of Rat Packers.

"Ladeez and Gentlemen! We have a slight intermission before our next performer hits the stage, but I see an old friend and crooner in the crowd who may be persuaded to sing us a tune!" Dunn motioned with both hands for the crowd to respond with a great round of applause to persuade the unknown crooner to accept the invitation. As the Rat Packers looked around the room with quizzical expressions, the MC played the crowd for all they were worth, only proceeding as the applause died down. "VEGAS! Come on down and sing us a song!"

The Frank Sinatra look-alike rises slowly to his feet, excusing himself from the table, while playing along to the crowd. The Suited Solo did a slow soft shoe for the spotlight that was panning over the crowd before reaching the stage and quickly side-stepping up the stairs to take his place at the microphone. Vegas thanks Dunn and the gracious crowd of Rat Packers before launching into his introductory monologue to break the ice.

"You know where I like singing best?" Vegas lowered his head and shook it with a wry smile before looking back up at the audience with a twinkle in his eye. "Nope. Not in the shower. I'm a bath man myself. I was always too skinny for a shower. The water kept missing me on both sides. But it ain't been missing me lately, I'll tell you that. But given the choice, I'd rather sing with people in front of me. Because I love seein' them sitting out there, because when they're sittin', they ain't coming up here to get me. Yup. Nice, smiling, receptive, unarmed people. Because when all's said and done, whether a performer is all by himself in a recording studio, or facing a lonely camera on an empty sound stage, it's the People he's trying to reach. And it's the People who make you, and if you aren't doing your proper work...it's the people who's gonna break ya. So, I gotta get back to work before I get my old job back.

"Oh, I had an old job. I was the house comic for the Creshetti Pasta and Olive Oil Company. You know what a thrill it is to get attacked by a herd of wet laguini?

"Anyway, here's our latest reprise release. It's a good tune, and the lyrics'll give you something to think about."

Vegas wasted no time in breaking into song while the live band backed him up. While it isn't the best performance Casino has heard Vegas give, it is enough to keep the crowd jazzed. From the stage, Vegas' line of sight was a little obstructed by the bright lights, but he was able to follow Chela as she made her way off to the far right until she vanished in the bright glare. About half-way through That's Life she reemerged from the bar area with a tray and four drinks. She swung her path back around to the table and placed three of the drinks down on coasters before continuing on to stop in front of another booth in a position where the three goons seated there could watch the entire floor from the entry to the stage. She was stopped there by one of the well-dressed muscle rising to his feet and holding up a hand.

Vegas, from your vantage it's difficult to see anything other than general shapes and sizes. When comparing the height and build of the gato who intercepted your message to that of the smaller Chela, he's a giant. Maybe someone more the size of Casino. But that's really all that you can see.

Casino, you've been distracted. There's a back room game going on that caught your eye when a waitress took drinks through a private room door. Unfortunately, this is what's been occupying your attention since catching sight.

Fixer, you've managed to stay really focused and from your vantage, you can see the table that Chela approached in much greater detail. The first bodyguard is indeed as big as Casino, maybe even a little bigger. He's definitely outfitted with an OldCybe arm and hand, has a neural link and smartgun corded right into his suitcoat. The second bodyguard is of lighter frame, but still a brute. He's a Polynesian with a shaved head, tattoos on his skull, and a neck that bulges from his collar. He has an OldCybe visor, a definite neural implant with a wired smartgun, and some of the meatiest fists you've ever seen. The third fellow at the table is a block of ice; broad in the shoulders with a custom-tailored black suit and a bowler cap, he chews on an unlit cigar as he eyeballs Chela with absolutely no emotion evident on his craggy face. You can easily wonder why that fellow even needs bodyguards to begin with, he's such a shadow of Hell's finest.

The standing bodyguard picks up the drink and sniffs it, swirling the milky brown liquid inside while he does so. Fixer, you catch a slight shake of his head before he sets it back on Chela's tray. Then, the big man picks up the napkin and sniffs this as well before handing it to the seated iceman. This individual looks at the napkin for a bit, crumples it up, and then tosses it on the table inciting the other bodyguard to rise up from his seat and Chela to take a couple of steps back, spin on her heel, and strides quickly away. The three mobsters move as one unit walking slowly and confidently towards the door.

It's obvious to you Fixer, that whatever Vegas wrote on that napkin drove the dangerous men away rather than setting up a meet. Vegas, you can see the men leaving, but you couldn't see the facial expressions or exchange due to the lights. Casino, you've still not noticed the exchange.

The Train | Night City Integrate | Undercity into Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 12:35 - 1:17 AM 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)

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

Bloodbank let a bemused half-smile play onto his lips and glanced at Blossom. "Traveling like royalty, eh?" he stated, raising his eyebrows slightly before handing over a couple of Night City Dollars. "For my ticket cost." he explained.

Bloodbank leaned back into the hard plastic, and rubbed his chin. There were three other people in the train car besides the Edgerunners, all of whom seemed to be pretty uninterested in the other inhabitants of fluorescent lit train car. That didn't quite convince Bloodbank, though, who had been around long enough to know that, indeed, looks could be deceiving. Silently, Bloodbank studied them, but couldn't tell a thing about them other than the surface story.

"So," Echo stated, elongating the oooo just a little. "How are we planning to handle the checkpoints?"

Leaning forward to peer past Blossom and look at Echo, Bloodbank bit the inside of his cheek. "Well," he said in a low voice. "I personally think that we'd do best by slipping through the maintenance tunnels. Usually, in my experience, those are locked up tight, though. So, we'd need to think up of a way to distract the guards while we make our way in. As for that, though, well..." Bloodbank glanced at Blossom. "I was thinking that you might be able to take control of one of the mechs and cause a bit of a diversion by the actual checkpoint. Perhaps a small, unnoticeable construct. Like a fly or somethin' that can fly around and land on a mech, giving you the access. Or, is that not how it works? I admit, I'm better with people then machines." He grinned, and leaned back again, his eyes still on Blossom.

"Nice thinking, Ripperdoc," Ghlahn sneers. "But starting a wildfire isn't exactly the result we're looking for."

"I like your idea, Bloodbank," Echo ignores Ghlahn's criticism. "Blossom?"

(OOC: Assuming a response similar to the statements in Q&A thread to the negative.)

"OK," Echo looks thoughtful and chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment while considering the options. "I still think that Bloodbank's access tunnel idea is our best option."

"Sure," Ghlahn snorts. "It's our only option. Question is how to get through the gate without being seen and reported. Got any more smart ideas, Bloodbank?"

"Ignore him," Echo practically whispers. "He's compensating for something.

"What about causing some sort of mechanical trouble with the train, tracks, or signage?" Echo offers.

"How about we just push someone onto the tracks and make our way through the gate in the commotion?" Ghlahn grins at the idea.

"You're a bastard," Echo glares at him in return, then glances at the notification display over the door. "We need a plan in the next five-minutes. We're almost there."

"Well, while you're dismissing my idea out of hand," the sniper shrugs. "You might as well figure out how to get through the inevitable lock on the gate otherwise, we might as well just turn back now.

The trip across town to The Rat Pack was boring as normal and thanks to his dark long coat Casino was easily able to hide the MPK out of sight. As the three edge runners entered the place as he'd come to expect was hopping. Denizens of Night City dressed in zoot suits and evening dresses flittered about the dance floor while a Sammy Davis, Jr. look-alike crooned Mr. Bojangles, god Casino hated that song, from a brightly lit stage. The solo thought to himself they really needed to get a good hard rock band pelting out some Five Finger Death Punch or Disturbed. Disturbed's cover of the Sounds of Silence back in 2016 had been the best remake of that song since the original had been released. Giving the club a good scanning he could see about the dance floor many clubbers nursing drinks sitting in cushioned booths with neon light accents, conversing over the sultry sounds of Mr. Show Business. Casino's attention was drawn back to the minute as Vegas's friend Chela appeared.

"Well, hello there, Vegas!" Chela smiles sweetly as she quickly leans in and kisses your cheek lightly so as not to leave any of the bright red lipstick she's wearing on your skin. "Casino! It's good to see you two lugs. It's been a while." Her friendly brown eyes fall on Fixer and she makes a quick assessment. "Who's your dour friend, love? And what can I get you boys to drink. You look like you could use a stiff one."

Ordering a plain Jack and coke as Vegas struck up a conversation with Chela. Casino headed for the nearest open booth nodding to Fixer to follow. Moving the SMG to his side for easy reach and use, he sat down and once more scanned the club. However his attention was taken upon seeing a waitress taking drinks through a private room door, the poker game within that area. It was not till the call for Vegas to take the stage did his attention get drawn back to the matter at hand, Scanning the club for hostiles.

Damn it! Get your ass out of that fracking game, pay attention! Casino thought to himself. He needed to do something about his addiction to cards or he'd end up losing everything including his life or Vegas's. As Vegas sang it was here that Casino finally noticed the three men standing to leave, then heading for the door. One of them Dauntless Dog, the mobster they had come to try and meet.

"Damn, Fixer stay here and cover me, I'm gonna try to talk to that guy leaving." Taking off the SMG and placing it at Fixers side, Casino stood then moved quickly yet trying to be as un-threaten as possible. His hands in plain sight he purposefully got the attention of the two bodyguards at once and moved within ear shot.

"I'm not a threat, I'd just like to talk to Mr. Dog for a few moments, please"

((OCC: OK I hope I don't get my ass blown off. I'm using my Persuasion and Fast Talk skill, combined with my Expert skill in Local affairs and any Personality/Charm trait that may work..))

The 'Bright Lights' obstructed Vegas' vision as he tried to follow the progress of Chela as the Frank Sinatra look-alike kept the crowd buzzing with his rendition of 'That's Life'.

Although he was unable to make out details, Vegas noted that Chela was stopped by a giant muscle about the size of Casino, who examined the drinks and note that the waitress was bearing to Dog.

Due to the lights and playing to the crowd of Rat Packers as he finished the song, Vegas was unable to determine what had transpired, only realizing that Dog and his muscle were hastily vacating their table and heading for the door.

As soon as Vegas was able to end the song and bow out from center stage, the Suited Solo made his way towards Chela, to make certain that she was unharmed.

Satisfied that his Friendly Contact was indeed unmolested, he asked her as discreetly as possible:

"Is there anyone here who knows where Dog and his gang would hole up to lay low from any heat?"

Vegas waits for a response from Chela, before choosing to follow the departing hoodlums, or returning to the table to follow up on her response, plus check in with Casino and Fixer.

((OOC: Although Vegas will want to tail Dog and his muscle, he realizes that they will need the Taser and Grenades that they are waiting on for delivery from Starlight, before trying to locate the lair of Dog and his gang))

He had yet to put up his weapon, but not a person seemed phased by it. They were used to seeing heat being packed, especially here in the undercity. Vegas seemed more than happy to take up the invitation to entertain the crowd packed into the Rat Pack. James had to admit that the man's was not bad as he broke into an old classic that held a familiar tune to the music that had already been playing in the club.

Chela was the woman's name that he had been introduced to. He did not forget a name or a face or much of anything for that matter, and his mind took it all in with glutton. She wandered around and eventually came up with a tray of four drinks. Three of the drinks were placed on coasters at a single table while the fourth was carried a bit further back. He never lost sight of the woman, his enhanced eyes picking up every slight movement she made.

She was stopped by a big fellow, about the size of Casino here who now seemed distracted by a game going on in another part of the club. Him and his companion bodyguard were both packing - both smartguns and oldcybe. They were dangerous, that he could tell. His mind logged away the details of the encounter in the case that they would be needed later; every hair out of place and every minor curve of the one fellow's tattoos. The third man though, definitely more dangerous than the other two and definitely not somebody that needed hired muscle to protect himself. He refused the drink and took a look at the paper before crumpling it up and tossing it to the floor. The big gangster did not look too happy as he started to move out.

After bringing the happenings to Casino's atttention, the big solo simply replies, "Damn, Fixer stay here and cover me, I'm gonna try to talk to that guy leaving." He takes off while leaving his SMG with James. Before James could open his mouth to say anything, Casinso was already halfway to cover the distance between themselves and the group.

"Well, frag it," James simply said to himself. Vegas was now off the stage and appeared to be consoling Chela. James shouldered Casino's SMG and then racked his slide to make sure he had a clear round in the chamber while snagging the round that cleared his chamber out of the air and pocketing it. "Hope this don't go too far south."

With that, Fixer takes up a position to cover Casino and give him some measure of protection to come out of bad situation alive.

(Okay Brom, I would like an awareness check possible to see if I can't tell if they are wearing some kind of body armor of possibly oldcybe skin armor implants. Just trying to see what kind of protection they may have so I can shoot at a lesser protected area if it comes down to a firefight.)

Blossom rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a sucker as she tried to think straight. Her companions where firing ideas passed at lightning speed, but none of them were clicking.

"We could start one of the garbage cans on fire as a distraction," Echo piped up.

Blossom smiled, "Yeah, that should work." Looking over at Bloodbank to confirm, she asked, "Whatdaya say, you up for playing arsonist? I'm thinking you set the fire, Bloodbank. Ghlahn will cover you if you run into trouble. Echo will stay close to me and watch my back while I'm driving in through the lock."

"Let do this."

OOC: Sorry, our net access was down during the week, and I was gone for the weekend.