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$81.68 donated / $385 needed
for site upkeep Jun 2017-2018!

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In the Mix
The music can be heard down the street as one walks down the trash-strewn walkway towards Big Daddy Kaine's.  It's loud, fast, and ferocious.  And the lead guitar seems to be having trouble keeping up.  At least the goons keep most of the homeless away from the joint to give it an extra iota of class.  The cheap neon alligators and crawfish put the level of class back into the negative.  The sign on the window claims to have the best 'shrimp jumbolaya' in Night City.  The guitarist misses another chord as the door goon takes guns and locks them away for safety's sake.  

The inside of the club has a garish mix of neon and holo-neon shellfish and musical instruments.  The music doesn't match the motif...or really any motif to be honest.  The rhythm and base thunder along with the drums well enough, but again the lead guitar is just bad.  The shrimp etouffee is the special, but at those prices it has to be soy-shrimp.  The real stuff is too hard to come by these days.  The diners don't seem to care what they eat.  Most of them are poor laborers from the nearby neighborhoods.  A few hard-bitten solos can be picked out here and there trying to look like they belong.  

A passcode whispered in the bartender's ear gains admittance to a small back room where a meet has been set up for a job.  The offered pay is absurdly low, but the good jobs go the edgerunners who are known.  Nobody knows or even gives a shit about anyone here.  As the unknowns show up, they are told to take a seat and wait.
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Having finished her shift at Fujiwara and not really wanting to be recognized She has little choice about the particulars of what jobs she takes, she is down to her last few Euros. She makes sure her trench-coat is zipped and buttoned so she does not flash whats underneath, having left her corporate uniform back in her corporate provided apartment. She skates up to the bar seeing all the neon shrimp she knows this is the dive. Considering going to a hospital and getting a series of antibiotics from just looking at the place she she pats her cheeks and then looks around for her Sister who said she would meet her here for a bit of under the table work. Not seeing her immediately she rolls over to the bouncer and smiles. "No guns on me I don't like them." She does a slow spin showing their is non immediately visible and then of course gets patted down. The guy finds nothing for firearms and looks at her wondering just how nuts this chick is coming here with only a couple of brass knuckles. He missed the spike holding her hair in place that is actually a weapon as well.

Having slipped past the bouncer she rolls around the place giving it a once over marking the entrances, exits both obvious and ones that could be used if needed like windows and vents. Her eyes also troll over the assembled noting weapons here and their some that are manufactured like knives and some improvised such as metal cups and bottles ready to be broken or used as clubs. It was not that she was particularly suspicious she was simply raised this way. Her eyes also scanned the wiring and any sources of possible flame that could be used to say ignite a bunch of broken high proof alcohol bottles such as were displayed behind the bar in typical fashion. She rolls over to the bar and leans over it without actually touching it thinking it might try and keep what ever part of her made contact with the bar top. When the bartender comes close she whispers the code into his ear and and makes like she nibbled hi ear lobe before ordering a dead-mans float. Then with her drink and the spoon that went with she rolls over to a place with a few empty seats and settles in to eat the iced-soy-cream and drink the baileys while she waits for her sister and the Johnson to get here and get their butts in gear.
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Jack looks over the the neon light's flashing between bright fluorescent colors of the garish exterior of Big Daddy Kaine's establishment through his sedan's dirty window. On a good week he'd only come here looking for some info on a mark or if he was really desperate someone to keep him company for the night. This is not a good week, after a job with less pay than offered, Jack was down to a handful of euros and more bills than he cared to think about. Hopefully this tip for a job might be enough to tide him over until a better contract came around. Stepping out of his vehicle and doing a quick look around the area, he pulls up the collar of his all weather coat and crosses the street to Kaine's.

The guard gives him a familiar glance and they go through the usual routine of disarmament, Jack lifts opens his all weather coat and his armored suit jacket allowing the door man to relinquish him of side arms from their holsters. After a brief frisk and a verbal grunt, the door man nods him inside. The music is a grind on his ear enhancements and he mentally adjusts the volume to a tolerable level. He drapes his all weather coat over his left arm while fixing his suit jacket with the right arm. The missing weight of his sidearms is freeing, but leaves him almost unnerved at the security they provide. He scans the patrons of the club, hoping not to find anyone that may hold a grudge or worse some marker with his name on it.

After a cursory glance at possible escape routes he decides to find a comfortable spot away from what the rocker boys on stage call music. He spots an open seat near the end of the bar and waves the bartender over. Leaning in close he mutters the code word for the job and orders black coffee or what passes for it in Kaine's. The bartender brings him a dingy mug full of hot dark liquid and he waits for the go ahead. Sipping the "coffee" he holds back the urge to wretch, and watches the club. The sight of a petite young lady in a coat buttoned up trench coat and nursing a dessert drink seems out of place in this dive. A smirk crosses his lips as he sips the bitter black liquid, but looks can be deceiving.
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Big Daddy Kaine's sounded like the perfect place for Akiko and her sister to 'stretch out' a bit.  Even though Hikaru worked for a big corporation it was good to get down in the dumps and see how the low-lifes lived.  It was a long walk from the one room motel she stayed in to this dump, it didn't matter though, Akiko never stayed in the same place for long and she wasn't going back.  Surprisingly, no one gave her any trouble as the tiny asian girl, with her hands in her pockets and smart goggles on her head, strolled down the dark garbage strewn streets.  

The garish neon alligators of Big Daddy Kaine's glowing on the wet pavement let Akiko know she finally arrived.  Her legs weren't tired, they were cybernetic just like her left arm, but that was a story on it's own.  The bouncers patted her down for guns, finding only a knife and a flashlight while her two pistols, Mil Tech Arms Avengers, were safely hidden inside her mechanical thighs.  When the two goons asked about her cybers she responded flatly, "Yeah, they cost me an arm and a leg." Without her guns Akiko would feel naked and hidden holsters were a sacred blessing for her.  ~Thank you cyber gods.~

The music was even worse inside than out, she thought. Akiko really liked music and this guitarist needed to be put out to pasture so her ears thought as they cried in pain.  Luckily, Akiko's favorite person was sitting at a table.  The restaurant was a dump but such a perfect place to get the type of job that promised some fun.  She glanced left and right as she walked over to the bar.  Nothing changed from the last time she was here except the people.  When the bartender came over she leaned in and said the code words and asked for a beer.  Before the bartender could even give her the beer, Akiko was already on her way to the table where her sister sat.
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The trio is left to wait for what seems an eternity until a screen opens up on the wall and the dark features of Kaine appears. "I apologize for not being able to see you in person, but I'm a man with many irons in the fire. The job is simple. Some wanna-be fixer is treading on my territory. There is a 300 Euro award for the crew that roughs him up a bit. Nothing too extreme. No mention of my name is necessary or even wanted. He knows what he did. Make sure it's public. He deserves the hit to his rep. Once the job is done, a Drop will tell you where to pick up your payment. Look for Racer at the Steel Wheel. Good luck." The click of electronic locks alerts the group that the door is open and the meet is over.
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"300 Euros...almost not worth it..." Jack whispered to himself. Rarely did he ever have to take a job for such low pay, but beggars can't be choosers in Night City. "Well ladies what do you think? That enough to wet your pallet?" Jack turned to face the ladies that had joined him to watch Kaine lay out the job details. Both seemed to share similar features, but the dim lights of the back room made it hard to get a good look at either of them. Their postures seemed relaxed, but held an underlying tension. "Unless you ladies have any objections, I think we should probably start this job by introducing ourselves. I'm Jack, i'm a freelance investigator of sorts. Now have either of you heard of Racer? " Jack moves closer, dingy coffee mug in hand and hopes to get a better look at the two new mysterious teammates. 

OOC: So what part of Night City is the Steel Wheel located, and where is Kaine's Club located? How should I do a Streetwise Skill Check to see if Jack has heard of or knows Racer?
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The dive bar is easy to find, but you'll need a streetwise roll to see if you heard of Racer.
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(04-12-2017, 05:11 AM)Man in Black Wrote: The dive bar is easy to find, but you'll need a streetwise roll to see if you heard of Racer.
Are we using the honor system or a website in mind?
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(04-12-2017, 05:45 AM)Gonzo917 Wrote:
(04-12-2017, 05:11 AM)Man in Black Wrote: The dive bar is easy to find, but you'll need a streetwise roll to see if you heard of Racer.
Are we using the honor system or a website in mind?

[I use The Unseen Servant]

Her face mask makes an electronic click as she chuckles and replies, "This job is definitely not about the money." In a heavy Japanese accent Akiko introduces herself.  "Hi Jack, call me Betsy.  I shoot people for euros... This is my sister." She nods her head in Hikaru's direction.  "I've heard your name before, people say you're like a hound finding what wants to be hidden." 

Streetwise = 18 to have heard of Jack
Streetwise = 10 to have heard of Racer
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"It's always about money, it's just not money that'll end up in our pockets." Jack extends his hand to the similar looking sisters. "Hello Betsy. I've seen a lot of shooters in this city, but few have been as attractive as you two. Almost makes me thing this may be more trouble than it's worth." Jack sips his crude excuse for coffee trying not to break eye contact with Betsy, and remember if she or the other sister sets off a red flag in his memory.  " In my experience trouble has a way of following pretty girls."

Streetwise = [1d10+10] = 3+10 = 13 for knowledge of Racer

Streetwise = [1d10+10] = 8+10 = 18 for knowledge of Betsy
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A gaming group started in late 2005 when several members (from all over the world) came together on a long-running forum website called Plothook.net (formally known as Highmoon.net). Several games transformed from a by-the-book format to highly modified versions that became new hybrid systems with completely custom rules and abilities. Ten years later, these faithful players wanted to secure their work and their stories, becoming the basis of these forums.