IDENTITY THEFT

SUMMER nights.

Public's always better when they're around. 'Course, most of the rich and famous are outta town, boozing up lakeside, living large on country clubs - the works. Doesn't matter. Those two - chromed Amy M and 'tiny' Silverback - always did it for the passion. And those who stay around... They always stay for the passion.

That hot summer night was inviting. Full house, liquored-up crowd. Little Tim Quaid was filling in for Tony. And Little Quaid was shivering, all five-feet of black skin sweating crazy, his suit wrinkled all over like yesterday's sheets. By the time they sat for a drink, Quaid couldn't even hold his glass up - he even turned down his usual gin tonic for a cup of black coffee.

"Sorry, guys. My game's all over the place tonight." - he says. "I wish I had it like Ames, here. She's always right there... Always... always that right note, you know, Silver? Man, man, how do you do it..."

It might be the full house, it might be the crowd, it might be the line of men and women trying to make conversation with Amy and Silverback... But something has Quaid tense tonight. Little Quaid's usually joking around, let-it-be kinda guy. But not tonight, and it gets worse as the time to go back on stage comes near.

[Welcome to Platinum Stories, your own magazine! Before we continue, please, roll perception for me against DC 15, if you don't mind. All bonuses (advantages, skills) applicable, as well as routine checks.]

Amy decided to skip her customary champagne and go with club soda tonight. Something was clearly up with Little Quaid, and she had an ominous feeing something was about to go down. Something on the edge of her perception...

She did a quick check of the club. She knew the Silver and Steel like the back of her hand. She scanned all the little nooks and shady spots where she knew made good hiding spots. She also made quick eye contact with Nine-Finger Clyde, their Neanderthal bouncer.

15:01, Today: Amy M rolled 27 using 1d20+11.  perception vs. dc15.


Then she leans in and lowers her voice so only those at the table would be able to hear. "Are you in some kind of trouble LQ? You look strung out."

"Practice, lots of practice, Little Quaid.....it's just got to be so automatic you can just enjoy your groove and relax.", the big man patted the dark skinned man on the back,"It's got to be fun, buddy and you ain't having it, what's going on in that little head of yours?"

Adjusting his weight he looked around the club before looking back at little Quaid, he was busy tuning the large base he was going to be using for the next set, his four arms working in time with each other as he worked on getting the strings just the right note.

OOC: 17:03, Today: Silverback rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Perception DC 15.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Wed 25 Sept 2019.

"I... It's nothing, guys. Nothing, really." - Little Quaid shivers, roughing up his sleeves and twisting his hands. The man glances to the side. Amy and Silver follow: Little Q's eys always betrayed him, just like when he fell for Sylvia, his wife. Couldn't take his eyes off of her...

Tonight it's a table of four. His eyes glide there, just for a second, but the musicians get the message - the unwilling deliverance of Q's secrets. At the back, for everyone to see, a table, spending large - booze, pasta, cigars. Three guys, a gal. She's big: large shoulders, short hair, red dress, killer blue eyes, savage and fearless. A blonde man, like her, smokes slowly, whispering to his short, bearded colleague. The last one's pale like moonlight, eating quietly. The four stare at Little Q with no reservations or subtlety.

Clyde limps closer to the table, subtly, aligning his cuffs.

He leans forward, scanning around.

"Trouble?" - he asks bluntly. "I can call Dan" - his cop contact - "... Or..."