He gives a small smile at the young woman's approval.  Since the others had apparently gone their own ways to seek information through their contacts, he closes and locks the door behind them.
He moves towards the kitchen, his denim jacket coming off and being draped over the back of the recliner closest to the kitchen.
The sofa and recliners are along the wall next to the kitchen, while the small dining table and three chairs is on the opposite wall between the door and the hallway.  I want to alter the location of the kitchen escape hatch to the other side of the island from the front door, concealed by a throw rug.  The TV is mounted on the wall, above the table.
Moving into the kitchen area, he goes tonthe refrigerator.  It seems I have a six-pack of cheap beer, and a few bottles of water.  I have a bit more to offer than I thought.  The food, however, is basic kibble.
Despite the neighborhood, and the outward appearance of the house, Phoenix does not seem the type who is used to cheap beer and kibble.  Be advised that I do not have net access here.  But, the neighbors have reliable connections.  They just are not that fast.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:40, Tue 18 May 2021.

Dossier on Wells:

http://wiki.rpol.net/?id=72735/Fargo%20Wells

Some Potential Rolls:

• Stock Market
• Education & General Knowledge
• Expert: Business
• Streetwise
• Forgery

My mistake.  he has not paid for net access.  Part of his paranoia about being found.

Gomen nasai, Phoenix says to Salaryman, then turns to Prodigy, I am sorry.  I must make some discreet inquiries on our target.
He looks at both of the younger women.  Feel free to make yourselves at home.  My home is yours.  I do have water and a few cheap beers in the refrigerator.  Help yourselves if you wish.

He is basically using a neighbors net access to look up Fargo Wells using his phone implant.  when that yields little or nothing, he decides to make some call to actual people:  Lady Koi, Killroy, the nomads, and a police contact.

16:35, Today: Phoenix rolled 28 using 1d10+11, rerolling max with rolls of (10+7)17.  Streetwise.

16:34, Today: Phoenix rolled 19 using 1d10+11, rerolling max with rolls of 8.  Stockmarket.

16:34, Today: Phoenix rolled 14 using 1d10+11, rerolling max with rolls of 3.  General Education.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:45, Mon 03 May 2021.

After Prodigy is done looking through the house, she will go to the refrigerator and grab a drink. While doing this she will go online and see if she can find any general information on their query.

[OOC: She doesn't have much in the skills like that department, but she can do general searches. :)

23:42, Today: Prodigy rolled 16 using 1d10+14, rerolling max with rolls of 2.  Education and General Knowledge.]

The Salaryman waved her hands and then gave Phoenix a few quick shallow bows.

She then got down to doing a bit of work herself using her built in communication lines.

After socketing in a cable she began looking for information.


The SalaryMan rolled 20,16,11.  Stock Market, Education & General Knowledge, Streetwise

As you each pick up on the brown envelope containing the dossier you begin to to look up details.

In his bedroom, Phoenix makes three calls using his cellphone implant.  Hae speaks quietly, leaving messages on each voicemail.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Wed 12 May 2021.

Less than an hour had passed between Phoenix making his call and the arrival of the bike. The observant could easily hear it pass the building once before returning a few minutes later, idling for a few moments and then dying all together.

The kick stand came down as the young nomad eased off the tan dirt bike to the sound of the creaking motocross armor that covered him head to foot. Even the eye protection was tinted against the glad of the sun, and hooked to the helmet by a "flip up" mount.

He approached the door slowly, taking in the surroundings, then knocked lightly with one hard knuckle before settling back with his thumbs hooked in his belt.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 13:36, Wed 12 May 2021.

Cal sat on his second hand couch and listened to the message for the third time.

There was no question it was a voice from beyond the grave.

Not exactly a friend but someone who had played straight with him in a business where that wasn't exactly the standard.

He scanned his account and the flashing "11" in his Times Square Marquee motivated him to investigate the mystery at hand.

He blinked a couple of times and sent back a simple text,

He phoned a friend for a ride and the time for the meet found him lurking nearby as the single Jodes rider arrived. If the dead man had a problem with the Nomad clan it was probably a deal breaker. Some of them were like family to Cal.

Instead of crossing the street immediately he took a minute to see if anyone else was coming, or just observing the area.

After leaving his messages, the young-looking older man leaves the bedroom and returns to the livingroom.  He sits in the right-most recliner, next to the kitchen, turning it on its swivel to regard Salaryman.
I have made some calls to some old friends.  Hopefully one or more of them will have some information on our target, he says flatly.  He seems to be subconsciously using his thumb and pinky to rotate the plain gold band upon his left ring finger.  They will most assuredly be surprised to receive my call.  He gives a wan smile, then turns to turn on the TV on a news station, providing a bit of background noise.
At the knock, he practically springs to his feet and draws his Militech Avenger from its holster at the back of his pants in one smooth motion, belying his augmented reflexes.
For a moment, he seems to listen at the door, then slowly opens it.  The young man at the door matches the description given him by the nomad tribe elder, and he reholsters the handgun.  Rip.  It is not a question, but an acknowledgment if the name given to him.  It might be better to hide your bike at the back of the house.
Even as he speaks, his eyes are scanning the street, catching sight of an old friend.  He makes a small hand gesture, indication for Killroy to come on over.
Though Phoenix looks younger, there is no denying his resemblance to a Special Projects division head once known as Scorpio with whom the solo had once worked.

Rip glanced back at the bike, and the distant figure, at the suggestion. He considered it for half a moment and then nodded as he backtracked. "On it, be right back."

It only took a minute or so, and soon the young Nomad was making his way back into the structure, moving with a little reservation through the unfamiliar home filled with strangers.

"So I won't pretend to know what kind of pull you've got..." he began, still looking around as he slowly navigated the interior. "But I really did not expect to hear from you know who...at all, if you follow." he reached up and gingerly lifted off the full faced helmet before he let it hang in his left hand by the mouth piece. His dirty blond hair was matted down from the ride, and he hadn't shaved in a week. What's more the pressure from the helmet had left red marks on his forehead that were slowly fading.

He met Phoenix's eyes with a nod and a knowing look. "But I'm here to honor that arrangement he mentioned." he added more seriously. "So consider me at your service." at this he glanced around at the others, obviously curious, but saying nothing.

Phoenix gives a small smile that lacks warmth as he steps back inside when Rip returns and closes the door.  Those in the know would see that as a potential sign that he is highly cybered and may not be too far removed from cyber-psychosis.  He knows Killroy will let himself in, as he has done on a number of occassions.
I have done a number of favors for the Tribe and its packs over the years, and numerous favors have been done for me.  It has been a mutually beneficial friendship.  He extends a hand.  I am known as Phoenix, though I was once known by another name to the Tribe.

"Well, here's hopin' we can keep it up" he took a few more meandering steps as he continued to take in the interior. "Not a lot of old friends left, or so I'm told. This cities a..." He seemed to search for a word. "Meat grinder. Reason we try to steer clear."

He turned to face Phoenix. "But tonight it's just me" he returned the smile, not seeming to notice the oddity in man speaking to him. Probably limited experience with Chrome in general, the young man looked au naturale.

"So what were you thinkin'?" He asked, starting to get down to business.

Understandable.  It certainly is a... meatgrinder, Phoenix responds.  My companions and I have been offered a bounty on the finding and collecting of one Fargo Wells, a heavily cybered corporate problem solver.  I was wondering if anyone in the Tribe, anyone, had had any dealing with the man.  Professional or otherwise.
Suddenly, he cocks his head, as if something had occurred to him.  Pardon me a moment, he says suddenly and steps into the hallway by the kitchen.  Though he is facing away, it seems he may be speaking.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:31, Thu 13 May 2021.

Killroy crossed the street very quickly and very quietly and entered Pheonix' home without a knock or signal.

He closed the door behind himself and, since it sounded like there was about to be some explaining done, simply waited behind the young Jodes rider he had seen for "Pheonix" to return.

Killroy was only normal guy big, over six feet but less than six and a half, despite that he seemed to cast a long shadow and darkness gathered around his eyes regardless of the light sources nearby.

Once the plain brown envelope is handed to you, still slightly damp from this evenings rain you'd wager, within you find a folder with the name WELLS,FARGO stamped across the label portion of the folder. Within is a series of documents:

As Phoenix was pulled away with his call and the envelope was passed around, Rip pulled out the contents, nodded to Killroy, and then held the contents in a way that was easy for them both to read.

With his free hand he rubbed at his face, and the somewhat itchy stubble as he read.

When he returns from his messaging, he steps up to Rip.  I have a request, but it is strictly voluntary, he says.  One of my contacts is a lovely young woman currently residing in the combat zone.  She does not have a vehicle of her own, and could use a ride.Would you be willing to go pick her up for me?  I have a cheap but cold beer in the fridge as a down-payment.  If he agrees, Phoenix gets him the beer and writes the address down on a sticky-note from a pack in finds in the drawer of the island.
Phoenix gives a slightly warmer seeming smile to Killroy.  It has been awhile, he says as he extends his hand for a shake, his arm steady as a rock and his grip strong for a man in his fifties.  Apparently he has had a bit of work done, his face looking closer to what it had in his early thirties.
As you can see, "reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

"Mind your OpSec Kid.", Killroy actually tipped the page up so that he could not see it but Rip still could.

"I don't work against the Jodes but we don't know if I'm involved in the job yet."



"Wasn't sure it was real."

The statement was flat. Could've even been meant as a thought rather than a comment.

"Good to see you Scorp, or Phoenix if you prefer. Real shortage of Straight Shooters out here."

That bit was accompanied by a smile but like too many Solos it didn't reach his rather expensive eyes.

"Is this just a reunion or is there something you need me for?"

There was a brief glance to Killroy, a shrug and Rip continued reading, pacing a few steps away as he turned a page.

About as he finished looking over the contents, he looked up to Phoenix. "I'd be glad to" he assured him, referring to his request. "But my bike won't carry two, it's been stripped for cargo." he admitted.

"Would you prefer I go and escort her by foot?" He asked next with a helpful tone.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Thu 13 May 2021.