Erebus’s Mental Journal
4th April, 2054
I was woken up in the early afternoon. Much to surprise it was Charlotte, my fixer and a consumate professional in her business of getting other people the things they need. She was short, polite, and professional as always. She said she had a lead on some business and I should go down to a place called the Shamrock and speak to a former Tir Nan Og elf named Murphy about some business. I verified with Charlotte that this Murphy was vetted and professional, and she went on to explain that he had a good reputation and specialized in helping bring teams together. And so after getting ready, I left for the Shamrock.
Arriving in the parking lot and looking around, I saw the place was rather lower-class, and so I called up Scorch (well, that’s what I’m calling him in polite company) from his plane incase I should need him. Entering the bar, I ordered a Guiness from the smart-assed bartender on duty and inquired after Murphy. Being told he wasn’t there at the moment I resolved to wait and enjoy my beer.
Eventually I received a phonecall from Murphy who explained that I needed to speak to a woman named Scarlet, and so after inquiring of the bartender, he went off to see about getting her. While waiting I struck up a conversation with a man I’d have sworn was homeless. Scruffy and unkempt-looking with a full beard, he seemed nice enough, even if I did wonder if he mightn’t be some sort of hippy. Partway through the conversation he received a phonecall himself, and it seemed Murphy was instructing this fellow (who identified himself as Greg) to also meet with Scarlet about business. A pleasant surprise.
A few moments into our conversation, Scarlet came out and brought us into the back room to fill us in. From the sounds of it there were two simultaneous and linked jobs desired: escort some women to a particular location and rob that location. (OOC: I know that’s not what it was, but that was the best I could figure when people were telling me in-character). We split into two groups, with myself and a dwarf and Scarlet planning the breakin. We began to discuss the details and the Johnson, whom I’m relatively sure was a prostitute of some sort, began helping us figure things out. Scarlet excused herself for a few minutes, I presume to go to the restroom, while we talked.
Of a sudden I heard two silenced gunshots. Not wishing to accidently burn down the bar for a false alarm, I wove concealing weaves of mana about myself and hid beneath the sturdy table. Interestingly there was a gun and several clips of ammunition beneath the table. I stayed there for some time, wondering what was going on. I heard angry voices for quite some time, so I stayed put.
Once the immediate fighting seemed to be over with, I cautiously approached the dwarf at the doorway (dressed for some reason so incognito he couldn’t help but be conspicuous) and whispered, still invisible, asking what happened. He asked me to drop the spell, but not knowing the situation I wasn’t about to do that. After a few moments he went back into the little hallway and I leaned over.
A man I’d seen in the other meeting room was floating pressed against the ceiling, and Scarlet was laying on the ground conscious and angry-sounding but her mouth was covered in blood she must’ve spit up. As near as I could tell, the man on the ceiling was a plant for AzTechnology working for them, and he and Scarlet got into a fight over the man wanting Scarlet’s help to kidnap a little girl for AzTechnology. Some men with almost no remaining life-energy arrived after a while and took the man who was on the ceiling away.
Still not being clear on what happened or why, and more than a little worried, I messaged Murphy to let him know that the Runners had been trying to apparently kill each other. I was concerned about their professionalism and if I really wanted to run with such a volatile group. Murphy was slightly disappointed nobody died, of all things, but he assured me that the group is generally pretty good and professional. I decided I’d give Murphy the benefit of the doubt, but I’m not sure whether the group is particularly suited toward how I prefer to do things.
After some of the chaos, a woman, the afforementioned dwarf, Greg, and I decided we might as well try getting the escorting mission done with. After I went to park my SUV in a nearby garage and get the medkit and biomonitor, I explained to the dwarf, a Rigger, about my usual setup: I’d project and perform astral overwatch, and command my elementals if there is need. If I am harmed, the biomonitor registers it and will alert the rest of the team via comms-channel. If I go unconscious, I instructed the rigger to follow the directions of the Medkit to help me, and if that didn’t bring me back to consciousness to use my pocket secretary to call Farshorn. In this way I could minimize chances of dying if something went badly, and it would alert the team if I encountered any major problems. In the future I’ll also use watcher spirits as messengers, I believe.
We arrived at a seedy strip club. It was not pleasant. The women were not very attractive. And revoltingly, the Johnson, a Larry the Lizard, wanted us to escort two women pretending to be elves, with cheap paste-on ears, to their destination. Ultimately the best deal I was able to arrange for the team was 1400 nuyen total and tickets to something called a watermelon show.
Around this time I noticed that Greg, whom I’m guessing is an illusion-focused magician, and who had for some reason wove a web of mana to cause himself to appear as an attractive female, was getting hit on by a rather insistent male troll. Leaving Greg to his own devices – after all, who am I to judge? – I helped escort the poseur prostitutes to the vehicle. It was then that I noticed that one of their ears was off, which began to irritate me more than I probably should’ve let it. But really, if you’re going to pretend to be an Elf, you should at least try to do it competently. Very irritating. Greg finally hopped into the vehicle after saying something to get the troll to leave him alone, and we proceeded onward.
The arrival went off without significant issue. No problems on the drive over, and at the location in question the guards quickly verified things and we dropped off the prostitutes. One of the prostitutes complimented me repeatedly on my appearance, which I guess was her attempt to be nice. I suppose a prostitute would put a fair stock in a person’s appearance as important. At any rate, she gave me a piece of paper indicating she wished to leave the prostitution life and Larry the Lizard and to call her. I agreed. I might or might not do it. I suppose it’s possible Larry made her put on those God-awful ears and it wasn’t her own choice and maybe she’s not a bad person. Maybe. Anyway it sounded like Scarlet might be interested in the job. Though for the life of me I don’t see what would be so hard about leaving. All you’d have to do is move elsewhere when he wasn’t expecting it.
At any rate, the drop-off went off fine, and we split the money amongst the group. On the way back, for some reason Greg picked up his phone and started speaking into it, but as near as I could tell there wasn’t anyone on the other end. He talked about babysitting, of all things. After returning to the Shamrock we went our own ways. Hopefully the group becomes a little better; the first half of the evening went badly, but the little escort job we did went fine at least. I’ll have faith that Charlotte knows what she’s doing and this Murphy hasn’t set me up with a bad group.