Screech is an older human street rat who is in the pocket of the Triads...or the Yakuza...or who knows this week. His BTL habit keeps him desperate for cash and his morals kinda loose.

Brannigan gets a message on his commlink directly.

"Hoi chummer. Dis is Screech. You might not know me. I need...um...a place for a party in Puyallup that can be fixed up a little. I keep lookin' but I ain't found a place that won't fall over. Hit me up if you find anything...there's nuyen in it and I heard you got a need."

Reyna’s commlink buzzes as a message from Bianca flashes onto her goggles, “+Someone’s been spamming everyone they can reach about looking for a place to party. You mentioned that you needed a job, so here’s their contact. Good luck and tell me how it goes later!+” Reyna flops into a worn bed as she starts composing a message for Screech, “+Chummer, Reyna here. I heard that you needed a line on a place to party. I don’t have one now, but I think I can help you out with a little bit of matrix digging or old-fashioned footwork. I need money for next month’s rent, so get back to me about employment terms?+”

Once her message has been sent, she closes her eyes and lets her mind detach itself from her body and enter hot-sim. She keeps one digital eye on the icon for her commlink as she begins to spin up a search engine.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:12, Sun 11 Dec 2022.

Brannigan frowned in surprise as his comlink went off right as he was leaving the bar after being told by Caitlin that she had no work for him. He wasn't desperate...not yet, at least...but he did need to make some nuyen for the month. He almost missed a step as he quickly brought the message up on his image link.

The message came up in the field of vision of his cybereye. He read it, pausing during the read-through to ask himself, "Screech? Who the frag is...oh wait!" He snapped his fingers as he remembered. Then he immediately frowned in confusion, shaking his head. "Wait, that tweaker...has a job?? The world's officially upside down." There was a light lilt to his accent denoting his Irish descent.

He shot a quick message back, +Need more info, chummer. How big? What kinda party? How long til it's needed? How much nuyen?+

He got in to his car and started driving slowly as he racked his brain for places that meet be usable.

The flophouse that Greer had carved out was a pile of dirty clothes and trash; as such his beat up Meta Link buzzed for quite some time before the Ork opened an eye and grunted, throwing his hand out to dive into the pockets of his sweatshirt to fish it out.  He grunted as the tweaked out voice of Screech rang out of the speaker.

Chop didn't mind Screech that bad; the guy had some bad taste but they often traded BTLs together.  But hearing that the tweak had a job for him.  Well, that was new.  "Vutma must be lost in a BTL schiz..."  But there was nothing better to do but warmup today; the next bout was too long away.  If there was a job, it would put gas in the tank.

He poked at the Link.  +This better not be a goose chase, Screech.+
This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Fri 09 Dec 2022.

Winter only knew Screech as a vaguely rat-like junkie, always trying to pawn some junk for a handful of nuyen. So when Wen told her he was hiring someone to find him a building in Puyallup of all places, she was quite taken aback. That has to be a scheme of some kind, she thought, and one that is going to end badly for all involved. But curiosity (and a need to make her next payment to a certain loan shark) won over and she quickly send out a message to the unlikely employer:

+Heard you were looking for a place for something and were willing to pay for it. Got 3 questions for you:
1. How much?
2. What exactly are you looking for?
3. And, most importantly, HOW MUCH?+

Getting Screech to reply to the link is strange. For 20 minutes at a time he's not really there. Other times you get back message like "Grumpunh lug"

Eventually, you get a somewhat coherent reply. His transcription algorithm must be the most dirt cheap one on the market because no human would say "Regan" for the word "right". With some effort for translation, the answer you get back is mildly coherent frequently profane with the same basic responses.

"What, you got something?"
"No, why you wasting my time?"

"How much? You got nothing so I ain't payin' you drek."
"It's a finder's fee.
"If you find somethin' then we can discuss  the fee."
"Until then.... frag off..."

Brannigan frowned at the random, incomprehensible messages. Was he for real? Was he tweaked out? He let out a sigh. If he wasn't so desperate to make sure he had enough nuyen before the first of the month...

He drew in a deep breath and sent a similar message to the first, +Sure, I know a couple places but how big you need and what kind of party? How long until it's needed?+

He kept driving, scoping out places that might work, but really he kind of needed the info to make a good choice.

Winter deciphers the meaning of Screech's messages... she thinks.

+So, you are looking for some place and we are going to discuss the fee when it is found. A-ha. Details, Screech. How big a place? Do you need a whole building or would a part of one do? Does it matter where in the Puyallup it is? When do you need it? What do you need it for? And yes, if you are paying after you get what you need, then we should agree on the fee before that. Lest you later decide that half a soy-burger is a fair finder's fee.+

OOC: Going with the assumption that the guy send this to all of us. I'm trying Area Knowledge to see if Winter knows of a suitable place for whatever this guy is up to. Pretty good roll, though Winter doesn't have the knowledge skill on Puyallup specifically.

21:29, Today: Winter rolled 6 successes using 7d6 with the Shadowrun 4th ed system with a target of 5.  Area Knowledge (Seattle).

Reyna frowned as her commlink's icon notified her of the stream of barely comprehensible message. ‘So, he wants me to find something before he'll talk about money. I guess I didn’t have anything pressing that I needed to get done today.’ She retreats back into her flesh as she blinks her eyes open and leans on her arm as she sits up, ‘I guess my best option is to find someone I can ask questions since I didn't find anything on the matrix.’

She reaches over to a small table and grabs her commlink before swiping through the number on it until she settles on one and starts tapping away at the screen as she composes her message, ”+Hey Chop Chop, have you already seen Screech’s messages? I’m planning on wandering around the barrens to ask about places, and I wanted to know if you’d be willing to help keep trouble away from me while I do so?+”

Chop rolled is eyes at the message.  That was the kind of reply he expected.  He was about to ignore the message altogether when a second one popped up.  It was from Reyna, one of those technokids that had moved into the Barrens lately.  She was certainly a good sort and it seemed like it would be good for some fun to head out around.    He typed out a quick message as he got dressed, his usual workout gear that would be good for a small boost of intimidation to shoo away the rats while they snooped around.

"+Sure thing Rey- want to meet me at the Black Junk Yards and we can span out from there?  I have half a mind to tell the idiot to check the lava flows..."

As he started to get ready to go, he started to think about places in the Barrens and beyond in the general district that would be a good place to check out.

Going to use his Puyallup Barrens AK to bolster their walk.

14:57, Today: Chop Chop rolled 4 successes using 8d6 with the Shadowrun 4th ed system with a target of 5.

Reyna heard her commlink buzz as a message flashed across her goggles. With a smile, she started tapping into the air with her gloves, “+Sounds good! I’ll grab a bus and be there soon.+” She dressed herself in a set of clothes she had picked up from a barrens vending machine to try and blend in. Overtop it, she threw on her armored jacket and tucked her shock gloves into the inside pocket as she tossed a handful of chips into a small tin.

With her preparations complete, she pulled her hood up and her shoes on as she began jogging to the bus stop, and, from there, to the Black Junk Yards.

Upon her uneventful arrival, Reyna hunts for a relatively safe car husk to sit and wait inside for Chop Chop. Her eyes swing back and forth as she silently runs her living persona to alternate scans of her surroundings in AR for icons running silent and longer range scans for icons in case she needs to find someplace else to duck down and wait for him.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:15, Tue 13 Dec 2022.

The day is currently mild with a light mist coming in from the ocean. Rain will come later in the evening.

Following up on a few ideas, our team makes their way variously into the Barrens. It's environs live up to the hype. Stripped husks of car litter the streets no longer containing enough metal to be worth salvaging. More building have collapsed into rubble since the last time you were here. Only a couple of new streets are blocked off.

There are a number of inhabitants loitering on street corners or lurking in doorways. Rough dirty clothes are a standard here with the occasional cart of detritus being pushed around.

Brannigan pulled over and parked, leaving the car running as he closed his eyes in frustration for a long moment, picturing a nice fun image of throttling Screech. His fingers twitched a bit but then he calmed down once more and shook his head. "what to do, what to do."

Then he sent out a message to a couple people together, Reyna and Winter. +Hoi, ladies. Got a possible quick job. Not sure of cash. Crazed addict unhelpfully offering scratch for a place to party with zero details. I know a couple possibilities but can't check 'em all myself. Interested?+

Reyna reclines the seat of the car she's sitting in as she puts her shoes onto the dashboard. When her commlink buzzes, she flips it out and reads Brannigan's message. She lets out a contemplative 'hmmm' as she thinks it over before typing out her message. "+Brannigan, it sounds like you're looking into Screech's thing as well. Me and Chop Chop are meeting at the Black Junk Yards, so if you'd like to meet us there, then I'm sure at the very least we'll all get to spend a day exploring the barrens. You're welcome as well Winter. I don't think that Chop Chop will be too upset if more people tag along. Especially, since there's a distinct possibility that Screech may not actually have any money.+" With a flourish, she snaps her commlink closed and tucks it into her jacket before returning to watching for threats and her companions.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:28, Thu 15 Dec 2022.

Chop muttered to himself as he put his jacket and shades on.  He could be sleeping right now... Or slotting a chip... or doing anything right now if it wasn't for that idiot and his wild goose chase.  But right now, it was at least something.  If they walked around a bit, it would give him some cardio at least.  The sound of his Morgan rumbled as he climbed into it, then took off for the Yards.  The place as as much swap meet as junk repository, so at least that would be fun hunting...

Tearing through the broken roads out from his squat, the Morgan did its usual jittery bump and jump over the Barrens roads until suddenly it was visible coming up at the Yard, his tusks and shades gleaming in the light and plastic tarp over the frame flapping behind him like some sort of cape.  With a screech he stopped just by where Reyna was and got out, locking the car up against a lightpole.

"Skraa Reyna!" he said waving to her, his tusked grin always looking like a million nuyen.  "Think we're actually gonna see some yerz outta this?"

Reyna's attention is ripped away from the matrix by the screech of a car coming to a stop near her. In her surprise, she makes an abortive attempt to hastily get out of the car and find cover, but merely stumbles out and onto the ground with a thump. Upon hearing Chop Chop calling out rather than some danger, she rolls over, dusts herself off, and gets up as she answers, "I don't think so, but I think we'll at least find something interesting." She pauses for a moment before continuing, her words filled with more uncertainty about his response, "Brannigan sent me and Winter a message about Screech's search while I was waiting. I invited them to wander the barrens with us, but if that's not ok with you, then I can apologize and tell them that I'll meet them some other time." With the most difficult part over, she adds, "So where did you think we should go first?"

Winter replies to Brannigan's message. +Yeah, I heard that quote-unquote job offer, as has probably half the city. If Screech was hoping to keep this event he has planed discreet, he is in for a surprise. But that's his problem, right? Anyway, I got nothing better to do, so might as well give this a try.+

As she's packing her gear (better take a gun for this one, she thinks) she hears from Reyna as well. +Sounds good. I'm on my way.+

With that she gets on her bike and takes off in the direction of the Black Junk Yards.

Brannigan replied to Reyna. +Yes. Same 'job'. He reached out to me specifically, but I guess spammed others as well.+ Small pause. +Yeah, okay. I can show up there.+

He nodded slightly and rolled his eyes, agreeing with Winter's words about Screech and the 'job'. He was going to be pissed if this was all for nothing, or if Screech didn't pay. Or tried to frag them over. And Screech wouldn't like if that was the case.

To Winter he replied, +Well, he's being a hoopfragger about details and answering questions, which isn't making me happy, but I'll see you at the junkyard.+

He made a turn and changed his driving direction to head to the junkyard.

Chop shrugged with a grin. "No prob, big enough Barrens for alla us," he replies before hookig his shades onto his shirt.  "Maybe together he can figure what Screech is up to."