OOC:
19:08, Today: Gargoyle rolled 9 using 1d10+7, rerolling max with rolls of 2.  Raw Tech at GM suggestion.
19:08, Today: Gargoyle rolled 16 using 1d10+8, rerolling max with rolls of 8.  Raw Emp at GM suggestion.

54 News:

In reply to Syren (msg # 47):

The various denizens of the bar seem to not have noticed Syren or at least no one seems to recognize him.

Setting his amp at his feet and resting an elbow on the bar,  Syren is careful to keep his hair away from everyone's drinks, watching the bartender work, trying to get a read on him, hoping the man will let him set up and play, feeling the need to share his music, even as he keeps his ears open to anything..and to anyone, that might serve him as another way to make some scratch, the down time between assignments always leaving him with a bit of an itch..
This message was last edited by the player at 21:06, Mon 02 Dec 2019.

In reply to Syren (msg # 52):

Barrage looks up from his position in the bar, his eyes study Syren a moment as he gathers up a glass and walks towards him "What ye want chum?"

He smiles at the man, the simple greeting more than he's gotten some places before.."a warm place to play..to share my music with others..is there a spot like that here? with the house getting a share of whatever I make, of course"

He's much prefer to be on the payroll, but he's found that offering to play for tips, and to give the head guy a cut, works better for getting hs foot in the door..

Barrage shrugs his big chromed out shoulders and points towards the corner "Ye get shot I ain't paying for it and you'll be cleaning it up. So ye better be good chum"

He can't help but smile at that, holding out his hand to the man "Challenge accepted"

Barrage reaches out, his large chromed hand enveloping Syren's hand. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea as he gives it a squeeze, Syren can feel a large amount of pressure as the cold steel slowly crushes his hand. Barrage relaxes though before any damage is actually done and turns back to what he was doing.

Careful as he can not to let his expression change, to let on any worry or discomfort, seeing the shoe of dominance, of what could have happened as what it was, accepting it as it's not the first time, and wasn't even that much of a surprise.

His hand freed, Syren heads over to the corner indicated and sets up, setting his stuff behind him and uncasing his guitar with a practiced ease that show reverance as well, plugging it into the amp after plugging the amp in and firing it up, tuning his instrument as well as showing off a bit, the piece one well practiced tho seeming freeform, melodious in it's way, a chance as well to check out the acoustics of the room.

While waiting for Gargoyle to finish his meal and let them in on whatever else the voice on the other end of the phone might have told him, the Salaryman looked over to the musician setting up for a performance.

She wasn't sure if live music was typical at this bar, but there didn't seem to be a stage or the like, so it seemed unlikely.

Still, it could be useful.  While whatever that needed to discuss likely wasn't sensitive in nature, the background noise the guitarist could bring might be useful in letting even the mundane details potentially go unheard.

Assuming the music wasn't so loud as to prevent conversation altogether of course.

A couple of the boosters in the back of the room stop their game of pool long enough to give Syren a listen.

Syren smiles at the way his music sounds, his fingers dancing over the strings, playing a variation of an old, old..well at this point ancient blues riff that his parents had turned him onto, the music darkish but rich, definitely not typical of someone that looks like him, but bucking the typical is a big part of him..

OOC: 15:05, Today: Syren rolled 23 using 1d10+13 with rolls of 10.  play instrument.

In reply to Syren (msg # 61):

As Syren begins to strum the strings, few turned to look at him. But as he turned into full playing, the whole bar went silent and turned to look at him playing. Even if it was not their flavor of music, this chum could play, the notes sprung off the guitar with surprising ability.


16:28, Today: Mister Green, on behalf of Syren, rolled 10 using 1d10 with rolls of 10.  10's Reroll.

Total of 33....

Prodigy would finish her sandwhich and fries off with a licking of her fingers after the food was gone. Then she would look around the table a moment, then back towards Gargoyle. When he was finished eating she'd finally write him a note but left it on the table for the other to see. --When's this meeting?--

Gargoyle finally finished his burger, and started in on his fries.  "The John wants to meet us, whatever 'us' consists of."  He gave both Quick and Chilli a nod suggesting they would be welcome.  "the meet is in the warehouse district at 2 AM and the work is supposed to be dangerous but rewarding."

He then gave a terse chuckle, "but aren't they all?  Edgework is edgework.  The John sounds all business and no humor, prolly been doing his job for a while.  But we got a while to chillax and get our shit together."

Gargoyle didn't pay the rocker much mind until he started playing his music.  Blues wasn't his usual go to for music, but it was the great granddaddy of everything he did like.  It didn't take long for him to start toe tapping under the table along with the rocker's jam.


It took him a bit to realize Overrider came into the bar a little while after they did.  If the late late night show was going to be dangerous, a dedicated shooter might not be bad to have.  Assuming he had any interest.

The Salaryman turned an ear towards the musician as he settled into his craft.  She wasn't knowledgeable about such things, but she did have enough sense to recognize that the guitarist probably could be doing better than playing in a Zone dive like the Barrage if he knew a proper A&R man.


With Gargoyle finished, she took note of what he revealed about the phone call.  "Do we have a specific location?"  She asked.

Quick had an appreciative look on his face. "Music's good. Reminds of a time in Bolivia. Not the country, Bolivia. A bar named Bolivia. Or maybe it was B. Olivia's. It was a great bar."

Quick let the music put that warm feeling into his bones, and finished off his food and drink. Feeling good, he ordered a pitcher of Sangria for himself and all the other edgers that had copped a squat together. "I'd be happy to join in on this run. Sounds like a decent job."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:10, Sat 21 Dec 2019.

Getting no real response from any of the others seated at the table, Chilli nodded to himself ever so slightly, and simply leaned back in his chair to take in the surroundings.  He ignored the one staring at him intently, and made as if he was casually glancing around the place.  His eyes took in everything and, of course, the scruff who walked through the door.  He paid that one no more mind until he heard the man start to play.  Impressive.  Even got Chilli to tap his foot to the beat.

It was only when the one on the phone deigned to speak when he was done eating, that Chilli refocused.  'John'?  'Meet'?  'Warehouse District'?  Dangerous but rewarding'?  What was all this?  Was he talking about the warehouse they escaped from?  Was this 'John' someone who could tell them more about what happened?  Chilli's face was a mask of neutrality, but inside, he was frowning.  He took note of who spoke next and what was said, but he had a question of his own.  "This enythin' to do wiv events of earlier?  Seemed to me tha'was the point'a bein' 'ere," he asked and said, that slight trace of an accent just peeking thorough.

At least Quick sat at a table near them, but this Chi guy sat at her table without even asking. Then he just, acted like she didn't exist. A small noise of discontent at that escaped her. Finally she wrote Gargoyle a simple note. --I'm game.--

Syren smiles as his fingers dance, seeing and hearing the reactions he's getting, deciding to take a chance, beginning to sing as well, the words those of a song again learned from his parents, one he used to sing to his sister on nights she'd had nightmares, activating the tech in his throat as well, adding a special richness to what he sings, accompanying himself in a way, a tale of a warrior and his travels..

(OOC: 21:41, Today: Syren rolled 17 using 1d10+12 with rolls of 5.  singing.)

Most of the bar slowly went back to their business as Syren continued his work. The "cats" at the table next to Gargoyle and crew did drop some cred chips at the feet of Syren for his work. While is voice was so-so, the fingers on the strings were absolutely magical.

"Thanks..and I take requests"

Stopping performing for the moment yet not casing up his guitar, Syren leans it carefully against his amp once it's turned off, heading back over to the bar, ready for a drink, not just because he's thirsty, but something he's learned a long time ago, spending a little where he plays ios a good way to get asked back, his eyes once again taking in those around him, just observing with practiced eyes as he waits his time to order.

Prodigy watched Syren for a moment, but then turned her attention back to Gargoyle. Her writing was getting a bit sloppy, probally the drinking but that's beside the point. She still managed though. --Want me to see if Barrage has some spare communicator things you can barrow?--

"What sort of communicator things?"  The Salaryman asked.