Tee Hee throws something at Duck's feet. It looks like a piece of gum or maybe some old chicken. "Frag you omae, I'm no meal ticket!"
Hendrix responds, "Tee, settle. Look, they don't care about you. I mean, they're just chasing their property. This man clearly isn't a threat. No offense, sir. Let's just work this out."
"Frag you too, Flair! What's uploaded in my head is collateral! Once I decrypt that they will terminate my functions."

You are welcome to roll an etiquette or negotiation roll, appropriate to your method. (Etiquette is trying to convince him or just being pleasant. Negotiations would be trying to trick him or bargain with him.) Or you can try interrogation if you prefer.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:02, Wed 30 Mar 2016.

Duck nods to Dr. Hendrix.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, doctor. You're right, I'm just after the property." he looks to Tee-Hee.

"Despite all the piss and vinegar, you're right too, but not about everything. You aren't a meal ticket, you're a person, a person who wouldn't be here if they weren't already out of options. You're also correct that what might be uploaded into your head is collateral, but, well, I think I'm the person you want to use that collateral on. Only thing you're wrong about it whether or not I want to terminate your, eh, functions, as it were. Just because I work for your big bad wolf doesn't mean I'm not still Duck, and I'm not here to blow your house in, just to quack back and forth with you for a bit, find out what you know, then be on my merry way." with that, he leans over, picks up the garbage thrown his way, and tosses it across the room with unerring accuracy into the waste bin.

"My first priority though, honestly, work aside, is making sure you *don't* get geeked, Tee. I'm one of those few rare birds flying around in the shadows that actually *is* a decent human being, at least I try to be. You can find a little personality profile I did for a Shadowland magazine a few years back in 'Nawlins that'll verify. Search White Duck, that's me, but that's for a time that's not as of the essence as now." he flicks out a pack of smokes, taking one out and leaving it in his mouth unlit.

"I really want to work something out with you here, man, and I know that you aren't gonna like the next person that comes knocking if you don't help me out now. I don't mean this as a threat- Manes is indifferent to your well-being, and there's bad blood there for sure, but I personally would like to offer you a way out of this that doesn't end up with your *good* blood spilled somewhere, but if all I'm getting in return is this temper tantrum thing you're doing, then it makes the whole peaceful resolution to your issues idea more than a tad difficult. Being here puts Dr. Hendrix at risk, too, and while I don't know the man, he seems like too nice a guy to get caught up in all this, no offense, sir." he nods to Dr. Hendrix with a wry grin.

"Now, I'd really like for you to take a few deep breaths, rethink your gut decision because your impulses are all wrong for this situation, and make a deal with me. By my being here, your location is in the very least compromised if we can't work something out. What you stand to gain is pretty clear, and, since all I really want is your side of all of this, you don't really stand to lose that much by actually cooperating. I won't make you any outlandish promises, but I can guarantee both of you safe passage underground and a place to squat until this all blows over, at least. C'mon, let's work something out here."

18:04, Today: White Duck rolled 3 successes using 6d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 with rolls of (6+3)9,1,1,1,4,(6+5)11.
The roller made me assign a TN to the roll, my apologies, so I set it at 4.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:05, Tue 29 Mar 2016.

Fragger didn't have to turn it off for real . . .

Copperhead mutters a few choice curses before flipping her video feeds to the big screen in the passenger area and making her way to the back of the van to dig out her laser microphone.  She carted it back into the front, lowering the passenger side window and aiming as best she could at the target's window, plugging the output feed into the auxiliary port on her radio.

It's a rating 6 device.  If the drapes are open, we should hear most of what they're saying.  If someone tosses something in through my open window, I'm going to be pissed . . . :>

Oh, and Duck, you should make a roll.

Oooh... So lucky we're not playing SR4, as that would also have a critical failure component.


Copperhead is having a tough time hearing all of the details, even with the laser mic. For a long while, she's just getting silence (as, inside, Dr. Hendrix watches for Tee Hee's decision).

After a few more moments, Tee cracks.

"Fine. Look, I'm not the one you want anyway. You want Cooperman. He was the fixer. He pulled a team together and gave me the call . You know, time and place sort of stuff.

"Anyway, I just led him to the think tank. He copped the chips. He stuffed them under his jacket, and we split. On the way out, one of his runners, a street mage he called Freya, took a couple of rounds from one of the guard's Roomsweepers. She went down hard, but Cooperman said to leave her. Some razor I never seen before throws me into a chopper that sort of appeared in the parking lot, and we took off in a cloud of dust."

"It all lead back to Junior. He was the one who approached me. You know Thomas Martelli Junior. He has this way of being sort of, well, real convincing, if you know what I mean. He put me in touch with Cooperman, and Cooperman brought the rest of the team."

"That's it. That's all I know. I don't know where the chips are and I got drek-all out of it, as you can see."

Copperhead bided her time thinking up different ways to tear White Duck a new one.  Pulling his comm was a stupid move on so many levels.  It left the team out of the negotiations.  It meant Noruas couldn't contribute intel he could drag in based on whatever the target said.  And if an attack team showed up, they'd lose precious seconds making White Duck and the others aware.  She'd seen people court marshalled or even shot for less.  Though mages tended to be given more slack.  Fraggin' finger-wigglers.  Too damn many of them were primadonnas.

No offense intended.  :>

But as a general rule, yanking your comm isn't great.  Makes it hard for the rest of us to contribute.  And if the ninja's do show up, it means our pants are part way around our ankles - and in Shadowrun, you never know when the ninjas are going to show up.

Duck nods and listens patiently.

"If you would help us find Cooperman or Freya, that would help out greatly. I've had the displeasure of meeting 'Junior' myself, and I'm not sure whether it'll give you piece of mind, but the guy seemed like a real piece of shit." he lights up his smoke.

"That said, I gave you my word, and I trust you're telling me what I need to know, so I'd like to make good on my promises and get you guys to a nice safe bolthole until everything's resolved. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I'm just trying to be realistic here when I say that I hope you do. I don't want either of you getting any more mixed up with this drek than you already are, and there may be parties other than us after you." with that, he flips his commlink back on.

"All good here." he radios in speaking loudly enough this time for Hendrix and Flare to overhear, "No ninja showed up and we got some good intel. Would like to escort these gents to my place for their own safety, since they kindly cooperated. Waiting to see if they want the transport. Please standby."

Caduceus did his best to keep an eye on the auras of the deckers through the peephole and summarize the conversation for the benefit of the other two runners, but it was hard to see Tee-Hee.  The situation was not ideal to say the least.  He let out a small sigh of relief though when White Duck turned his mic back on.

"Good.  Ya kin spit it o'r da sub-vocal while dey's packin.  An nex time don' turn off da fraggin com.  An fer drek's sake leave in yer bud.  I don wanna hafta getcher 'tension by blowin out da winda if der's trouble comin.  Shout when yer on yer way down an I'll bring da rig aroun."

"Noruas, ya got time ta run a quick scan on Junior an' Senior now we gots a name?"

While she's waiting, she rings up Alfred.
"Mornin' sir.  Gots a couple names turned up on da current job.  Ya heard o' a fixer name a Cooperman er a street wizard calt Freya?  Da latter 'parently got full o' buckshot recently.  If ya knows o' eider or how ta fine dem, it'd speed us to da payday."

Wouldn't be a bad idea for the rest of you to hit up your contacts as well.  Hopefully by the time we drop these two off, we'll know where we're heading next.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:07, Fri 01 Apr 2016.

Duck smirked, then turned off the comm again. Maybe she'd eventually figure out not to make any attempts to dictate Duck's modus operandi, to let him do his job as he saw fit, but unfortunately now wasn't that time.

"Alright gents, as I said, we'd be happy to help, but time's of the essence for both parties. So, would you like to tag along so we can keep you lying low for a bit?"

"No, I never saw Freya again. Once we landed, Cooperman helped me get a cab and said he'd be in touch. I haven't seen him since."

Hendrix responds, "Maybe a safehouse would be good for now. Just provide just the address. We can check it out and get ourselves over there on our own. I appreciate the offer though. It seems my home isn't as safe as we had hoped--not that we have much on hand for anything else."


Outside, Copperhead has a conversation with Alfred. "I'm not normally in the business of reaching out to my competition, but yes, I am familiar with the name. I'm actually rather surprised you are not, but I suppose your interests keep you otherwise occupied. I might be able to arrange a meeting, but there would be some business expenses, of course.

"Miss Goldenhair I am familiar with by reputation only. She has some magical skill, which she enjoys putting mostly to destructive ends. I might be able to acquire her services, but she is a professional. I doubt she would have much interest in you regarding a previous job unless there's a clear financial interest."

Listening to the sudden hiss of static, Copperhead's blood began to boil.  She mentally forced herself away from the fire controls of the hovering drone.  Some people just weren't worth the effort.  She'd complete this mission, but she'd rather give up her Bison than work with this mage again.  She knew exactly what a lone wolf could do to a team, and she had no intention of going through that pain ever again.

Duck scratches his head.

"Yeah, I live in the Orc Underground, omae, not as easy as you'd think to get down to unless you have the right connections. Not like I can just give y'all a metro card. Either way, not-here is your best bet."

He reaches into his pocket and hands Hendrix a couple of business cards for a place called "Crane's Comics," with his private LTG number scrawled neatly by hand on the back.

"I can help get you guys in, just gotta make a couple calls, establish you a good point of entry, and make sure you don't get harassed. My neighborhood is safe for damned good reasons. Either of you end up in hot water, call me. I can't promise you anything if you don't come with right now, but I can say I'll try my best to help you out. Anyhow, we'll be outside a minute if you change your minds in the next few. Otherwise, good luck, neh?" Duck nods to them both politely, and sees himself out, finishing one smoke when he emerges from the building and lighting another.

"So, given the fact that we weren't overtaken by a corp strike team, assaulted by ninja, or shot at, or had anything else dangerous happen there, I'm going to go ahead play my 'I told you so' card right fraggin' now." He flicks his cigarette, narrowing his eyes at Copperhead and seeming visibly agitated for the first time that anyone in the present group has observed. He leans back against the wall, but slowly takes his back away from it as he speaks.

"I told you so, now stop presuming you can tell me how to do my job, or that you can read a room better than I can, because you can't. If I see it fit to turn off my fraggin' comms to establish trust, I'm going to do it. If I tell you I don't want backup, then don't back me up. You might be concerned that letting this paranoid drek drop a little will be fatal, but you know how *I've* lost people in the past? Working with teams of drekheads who can't trust one another's instincts and thereby aren't really working as a team to begin with. You do you, but if you keep stepping on my fraggin' toes when I try to do me, I'm going to start interrupting and imposing upon all of *your* shit." His face reddened and hard-to-hide due to his albinism, the now-fuming Duck turns around and kicks a serious dent into the wall, which looks like it lost the contest against his foot afterwards.

"I wasn't born yesterday, I don't need fraggin' training wheels, and you need to stop fraggin' crossing me over this arbitrary bullshit. All of your ideas were about as good and sensible as pouring salt and pepper onto an ice cream cone because you were worried the ice cream is secretly fry-flavored, even if I've taken a lick and told you it was vanilla. Next time you get it in your head to start pouring that shit on, you can frag right off."

He's going to be the death of us, Caduceus thought to himself.  While White Duck was busy having his hypocritical temper tantrum about how they should all trust his instincts while ignoring everyone else's, Caduceus was busy contemplating his list of contacts.  They still had a job to do.  They were fortunate here and were able to collect a lot of intel and it was time to put it to use.  If they could track down Tee Hee from a teabag, they should now have all the information they needed to track down the missing chips.

He finally decided to try and find out if the mage that was left for dead could be confirmed as such.  He figured it would be an economical way to fill in a large gap in one branch of Tee Hee's story.  From Copperhead's ride, he dialed up his mortician contact, Kaira.

"Hey, it's Caduceus.  I finally have another corpse for you to look into.  Female, riddled with roomsweeper bullets.  Time of death was probably about, oh, thirty hours ago?  Give or take a few.  Know of any Jane Does with a description like that?"

Duck takes a few deep breaths, leaning back against the wall and kicking away a few bits of broken brick kicked free.

"Listen, I won't go off-script if you guys promise to stop screwing with my mojo. What I do is a little different from what you all are good at, as there are a lot of nuances to having a conversation like that go successfully. Maybe your scorpion drone lists a little to the left when idle too long and fires slightly above the targeting reticle, CH. Maybe there's a spell or ritual that you've streamlined and practiced enough that you've managed to make stronger, Cad. Maybe there's a certain way that you bypass security measures on the 'trix, Nouras that gets it done a little easier, gives you a slight advantage over the next guy. Well, there are quirks like that to establishing trust with strangers, to bargaining with folks who ain't buying what you're selling. For me? One of those quirks I've got involves having my head clear of all distractions before I go in."
He takes a long drag of the smoke, then continues, much calmer than he was before, seemingly having gotten the anger out of his system.

"I know you all want to get the job done, that it isn't that you're trying to sabotage me in any way, but sometimes situations will arise in which any of us might need to trust our own judgments in spite of them not being planned or popular. If those situations arise, and in this line of work they will, just be aware that I'm not gonna look at you the way you're all looking at me now for it. Even if I can't do what you all do, I at least have that understanding, and in spite of all the crap you're wanting to give me over it now, I'll have your back then. You want to think I'm a loose cannon for cutting you off for thirty seconds, that's fine, but realistically speaking it's a bit of a hyperbolic way to react."

Copperhead replies to Alfred:
"I heared dat Cooperman left Freya fer dead at da last run.  If ya kin check how ta reach 'er an if she's still tickin', that'd be ace.  An no need ta worry bout me jumpin' ship.  If ya kin 'range a meet wit Cooperman, we kin cover reason'ble spences."

Side note - Copperhead is currently sitting in the van and the window's back up again, so you can talk to the camera beside the screen, but short of a blow torch, you won't actually see her body.

Copperhead's voice is icey when it comes over the comm.

"Trust's earned."

The Bison pulls even with the door in front of the apartment, the door sliding open and waiting for the team to pile in.

EDIT: Adjusted for papa's last post, which I'd missed
This message was last edited by the player at 13:54, Sat 02 Apr 2016.

After Noruas logs out, he unplugs himself and clears up his belongings.  He does try to get a word in to the team before they start slinging verbal warheads at each other.

Yeah, lady and gents, I've got some intel on Junior and Cooperman if you wanna hear it.  But I think it might be best to wait until our former targets are out of earshot.

He picks up his bag of equipment as well as the plasti-steel briefcase and waits for Caduceus before exiting the room.  He hands most of the equipment to Caduceus to hold while he locks the door back up with his tools.

Once everyone's back in the van, Copperhead's voice comes over the internal speakers.  "We's gonna wanna chat wif dem two 'gain I spect.  Ya wanna grab a burner from da store down da block an give  it ta dem so we kin reach 'em?  An mebe ask what da drek is on da chips 'n why 'e took da job wit Cooperman 'an Junior 'stead a reportin' da trouble ta Manns?

Any udder questions we wanna ask 'fore dis pair flies da coop?"

She didsn't mention the obvious - that White Duck could be getting a lot less exercise if he'd left his comm on and the team had been able to remotely participate in the initial discussion.  If Hendrix had half a brain, he'd find his own safe house and they'd never see him or Tee Hee again.  If he didn't, he'd do something stupid and end up dead.  Either way, Copperhead put the odds of the two being reachable for further discussions at less than 50 percent.

This message was deleted by the player at 22:32, Sat 02 Apr 2016.

Deleted response
This message was last edited by the player at 22:03, Sat 02 Apr 2016.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure those two are going to not survive very long. Don't wanna screw the guy over for profit, but maybe Manes would pay us to get him back. You're right, CH, if I wouldn't have been preoccupied with being a smartass I could have just asked them back then. That said, we definitely need to keep tabs on them. I was hoping that keeping my word would keep them with us and thereby give me a chance to squeeze them for more info. Eh, maybe I should go back in and try to convince them to come along? What do you guys think?" he asks, scratching the back of his head, starting to grow a little embarrassed about his prior behavior.

"S'up ta you.  If ya push'em, it'll get der hackles up I 'spect.  Just give'em a burner as a 'scuse ta go back up.  Fine out what's on da chips an what da deal is wit Junior an da J.  'Less anybody gots any udder info ta probe?

Noruas you said ya gots some dirt on da capey ork?  Mebbe lets get dat before Ducky pokes da deckers agin."

Please don't.  I doubt I can hold my own against two professional deckers with homecourt advantage.

Anyways, here's what I got:

Martelli Senior is human.  Formerly the owner of Martelli Entertainment prior to it's acquistion by Global Technologies.  Their family wealth was probably based on the buyout of their company.  Unfortunately, Senior has passed away now for many years now after having spoiled and doted on his goblinized kid.  So we can't go pay him a visit.  Fortunately, I had found out that prior to his death he was in the talks with a Mr. Pengrave of the Hollywood Simsense Technologies.  So there's a possibility the chips have to do with them too.

Junior is as you could tell a goblinized person.  Well educated, and graduated from University of Seattle.  But from what I was told, despite his high intelligence, he has a short temper that tends to end problems with violence.  This could be something we could exploit should we have to deal with him.  Oh, and word around is that he's not very trustworthy.  But I think most of you here has already garnered that.

As for Cooperman, well you could say he's quite the social butterfly with very expensive tastes.  He's a European Medieval history buff, so whatever he spends his money on, it's very likely that it is related to European Medieval History.  Word around is that he's working with the biker gang called the Blood Rumblers based in Redmond, as well as with a number of other Shadowrunners including one by the name of 'Griffin', a street samurai.  Lately, there has been news of him working on some big project, but no one I know has any knowledge as to what it is besides the fact that he's spending a lot of money on it.  I speculate it might have to do with his hobby on European Medieval history.  But probably something with great power.  But that's just my opinion.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:01, Mon 04 Apr 2016.

"Better not be a fraggin' dragon . . ."

If it is, I'm fairly certain we would be the 'Suicide Squad', said Noruas jokingly.

"Suicide Squad, eh? I have a few first-prints of that series in my shop if your paycheck from this run is just eating a hole into your pocket." he remarks, with a definite hint of fondness for old comics. He looks to Nouras like someone finally got a point he was trying to make, and seems relieved even. However, further conversations about his area of nerdy expertise would have to wait, as they had a job to finish.

"So, yay or nay on the burner? I'm fine going back up to drop it off before we move onto our next adventure."