Noruas joins in on the comms, I say we stash him somewhere until we get what we are looking for.  There's no need to rush in letting him go.  He might be our connection to Junior if we ever do need to find him.

Caduceus has been keeping an eye on him in astral space and would definitely let the group know if he could tell the guy was holding back information.

Caduceus spoke into the comms as well, even as he kept his close watch on their captive."If you want to keep an eye on him, go ahead and stash him.  I personally doubt he would be worth the time or effort.  He seems to be a dirt-level grunt with one weak connection to a guy our employer felt was unconnected to our job.  A job we have a very short time frame to complete."  He didn't mean to sound antagonistic, but every second they spent on this guy was another second they weren't spending following more promising leads.  Still, maybe this guy did have a few more secrets to spill.

"Well-dressed, you say? Yeesh, omae, I believe you, but I *must* question your tastes in fashion." He reaches over and suddenly yanks off one of the man's shoes with the skill of a trained martial artist.

"But you haven't told me anything I don't already know, so the next thing outta yer mouth should be something I don't already know, or if you wanna insist on yanking my chain a little more, you can tell me which little piggy you'd like to go to market."

Drek, what? No, that's it! The ork gave me a phone, told me to follow the lady, and call whenever she does something! You can look at the call log, I swear it! Look, it's what I do, okay? I just follow people and make phone calls! And remember stuff, if the price is good. I'm just tryin' ta make a living here, okay? I didn't sign up for any drek!"

"Mebe findout if dis guy works for da ork regular.  Cuz if e was jus standin outside da bar, how'd da ork know 'is biz?  He wearin' a sign wit 'rat fer hire'?"

She skittered back down the man's abdomen, this time moving between his legs.  She positioned her own rear legs carefully over those areas most likely to attract the snitch's attention - near enough that the sharp tips of her climbing claws could be felt - but not yet gripping.  The promise was clear though.

Duck smirks at Copperhead.

"I like you. Great insight." he gives the cam on the scorpion droid a thumbs-up, then turns back to the captive.

"No, not you, shitface. Tell me, how did you meet your employer?"

"DrreeeEEEEEKKKK!!! Drek drek listennn... I got street rep, okay? People know me. Okay? Okay?!? I KILLED A MAN FOR THEM. I KILLED TWO MEN! JUST BACK OFF!"

Crane cracks up with laughter, not really able to hold it in, not trying to restrain it once it builds. After a good laugh, a deep breath, and a tear wiped from a pink-hued eye, he leans in.

"Okay, now I want to keep him. Can we keep him? That was really cute. Street cred, bahahaha!" he continues with another short bout of laughter, but is able to contain himself more quickly.

"We got street rep too, kid. What's your handle? If you know any of our connects we'll even let you off right here. Otherwise, you wanna cut out the bullshit and answer my question?" He reaches in and yanks off the perp's sock in a swift motion.

Ok....I thought I stripped him naked and hog-tied him?

The scorpion waves a claw at the White Duck.

"'E jus dished 'ow 'e knows da orc.  E's on da orc's payroll.  Contract-like.  So det's fine out who 'e axed an when.  Mebe rel'vent.  An it means we keeps da dude - mebe kin use 'im.  An mebe too much loylty ta da tusky dude.  Mebe da ticket ta make drek fer Jun'r too.  We stracts da right dirt from dis rat, s' mebe 'nough for da Star ta hold da orc -least til daddy bails 'im and greases da palms.  If we's lucky, mebe 'e shares a bunk wit a troll dat likes capes.  An sure e knows da orc 'nuff ta know 'is daddy an mebe what's up tween Jun'r an da J."

Caduceus watched White Duck work with disturbed ammusement.  He certainly had his own style, he would give him that.  And it was effective!  "If he really is a professional like he says, he better improve his skills or find another line of work..."

"Ferret! My name is Ferret. Everyone calls me that. I do a lotta jobs, you see? Like... tailing people. Knowing stuff on the street. I'm a knowin' man, you know? Okay? Geez man just... let me go and we can talk over coffee or something, okay?"

"Alright, listen uhhh... I know you guys... you're thinking, right? Like... what kinda a deal you can get. I'm great at deals. I'll make you a deal. Listen, I can... I can call the phone and tell them, I guess... tell him she came back. And you all, you can set up and ambush, right? Shake 'im down for whatever he's got. Then we split it, fifty fifty. I mean... there's three of ya, so just a quarter share would be fair. Alright? Deal? You won't get one like this again."

The drones claws encompassed a tender bit of flesh and applied moderate pressure.  Some people just couldn't seem to learn.

"Les finout oo 'e offed an when.  Den get da dirt on Jun'r an is pop.  Den 'e can report da J took a chopper an see what da Orc says.  Shakin down da son o some fat cat's gonna bring bad mojo."

EDIT: fixed formatting
This message was last edited by the player at 16:23, Wed 16 Dec 2015.

Caduceus stifled a sigh and shook his head.  "Is this guy for real?" he muttered into his mic.  "I'm finding it hard to trust whatever we get out of this guy.  I mean, he may be telling us the truth, or at least partial truths, but his song changes pitch at the drop of a hat if you know what I mean.  So let's take any info this guy gives us with a huge grain of salt."

Is there any hint on the astral of how truthful this guy is trying to be?

His astral signature is roiling; sharp colors, flashes, static. He's obviously responding to the drone--and not well. When the drone stops, his astral gradually settles. He's grubby, marred with little traumas and scuffs. He's signature has little signs of other people he's brushed against in his normal interactions. There's streaks from some sort of chemical poison. When talking about his murder, his spirit momentarily lights with color--a color that doesn't turn up when he's talking about his other dealings with Junior.

"I am picking up some interesting readings from his aura though," Caduceus adds to his previous mutterings.  "He definitely doesn't care for Copperhead's drone.  And there are blemishes reminiscent of a chemical poison.  An addiction perhaps?  And the murder he mentioned brought out something interesting too.  Something unique.  I'm not positive what it was though."

Duck leans in, sighing.

"I'm getting really tired of looking at your grubby ass, mate. Maybe you could cut the extraneous chatter and tell me all about Junior."

"I don't know anything else about him. He gave me a phone, told me to follow the girl, and said he'd pay cash. I swear it. You can check the phone logs, okay?"

His astral is constant. There's no signs of conscious defenses or the flashes of color.

"Ask 'bout oo 'e kilt.  I'm thinkin' mebbe 'e was bluffin."

"Probably," Caduceus muttered.  "I think he's telling the truth about not knowing more about Junior though."

"Hmm, I see. Don't know what company he works for then? Also, don't know anything about who you supposedly killed for him? You can see why I'm having trouble taking your word for it when you're leaving out these details, right?" he asks in an almost patronizing tone as he cracks the window and lights a cigarette.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:55, Mon 28 Dec 2015.

White Duck looked around for a bit for a way to open the window, but finds no obvious controls.

"Da windas is seelt.  It'd break da Farday box"

A couple of seconds later he felt a slight breeze as the cabin's fans turn on, sucking out the smoky air.  She was willing to tolerate the cigarette for the purposes of the interrogation, but no one was going to be smelling up her ride.

"Uhh... Well he dresses real nice so... JC Penny? I don't get paid to ask questions. I mean... to ask the person paying me questions. You know? That's not good for business. But you can look at the phone if you want. Probly has some uh... chips or something you can deck."

Sharp colors rise at the mention of the killing; oranges and purples. Not hate or anger. Maybe fear? Anxiety? But they drop away again as Duck keeps talking.

"His aura is flaring again..." Caduceus muttered into his mic, trying to keep his nose from inhaling any of White Duck's cigarette smoke.  He relayed what he noticed about the aura colors to the others.