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[Ruski]

the snow is falling lightly to the ground where it picks up a dingey slushey quality that only the residents of Seattle can apriceate.
the streets are salted, although only the hover-taxi service, the public bus system, and a few crazies are driveing on it. all and all it's a standard saturday night.
the snow has topped all of the skyscrapers without heating elements installed in the rooftops, makeing the world seem like a giant christmass tree farm... if you squint, hold your head sideways and have abused simchips as a kid.
almost no one is walking outside. where the sidewalks aren't shoveled the snow is about two feet deep. you can only guess how many homeless/sinless they are going to find stuck in some horrific pose, perhaps with some chew marks from the local undead come first thaw.

***

moving closer to downtown the indoor malls are packed with last-minute shoppers checking the shelves to see if the last shipment of NERPS has arrived, after haveing been sold out for the previous two weeks.  the heated walkways and holovid projections of weekend getaways to tropical paradice hide any hint that the world outside is a frozen one. Added to the normal hussle and bussle of christmas shopping is the sound of bells ringing, and every so often a musical carol will find it's way through the doorway of smaller shops and out into the mainstay to ither delite or enrage the shopping masses.

****

[mercy]

Sam Hanes is helping out his street doc friend at his clinic taking care of paiaints

*GM*
you have the usual increase in buisness arround the cold season, with frost bite, hypothermia, and general influenza.

you take one point of stun damage from drain in takeing the edge off of half a dozen of the cases that were a little worse for ware.

your doctor comments on how nice of it was for you to volenteer some of your time and tallents for the christmas season.

*GM*

[kv]

Miles sits in the dark of the jazz club, smelling the sweet stink of synth-weed as the record plays softly over the conversations around him.

He taps his fingers on the table in time with the record, enjoying the dark and satsfaction of a run well-done.

Freddy, the club owner walks up to you.

Hey, Miles my man! have you seen the latest jive from Sweetwater GA? they just got some new tunes in, i got them in the back for ya' if you can help me out with somethin'

[mercy]

not a prob doc *grabs a soy caf

[mercy]

hey doc going to grab a bite to eat you want anything while I am out

Yea, go ahead and pick up some burn creme for me. i've had a lot of unusual burns this evening, and i'm running low. give this perscription to the Pharm+ guy and tell him that i sent ya'.

*the good doctor hands you a wrinkled perscription for some high end burn creme, and a credstick with 200Y printed on the side*

[kv]

*sits up from his slouch*

Sure, man. Whatca got? I haven't heard anything good out of Sweetwater, GA since CAS took over!

*laughs* Seriously, what you got?

  -Jazzman

Well, i wouldn't be tellin' this to ja', sept youre a 'good ol' boy', and i know that you have a special place in your heart for bluegrass,... expecially for bluegrass from the 'blues brothers', not many people liked the mix of comedy and jazz, but you sure ate it up. there's a new band callen themselves the Blues Brothers reborn, and they can really cut a jam. ... oh yea, and i have a copy of their demo tape. hot off the presses, more vaulable than it's weight in beetle chips. so, anyways if you notice that the 'smoke' in my bar is a little greyer, and thinner than usual today, it's because my regular supply of synthweed has up and vanished... in a perverbial puff of smoke. so, i know that you are into the dark side of things, and i was wonderin' if you could take a look-see, and find out where he's gone off to. he's a good chummer by the name of Briggs. whaddya say? for the blues brothers?

[mercy]

heads out to the pharmacy

The pharmacy is about three blocks away, and seeing as how it's snowing, you wish that you had some warmer clothes, or a car to get you there faster. As you travel you hear disturbing sounds comeing from the alleyways that you pass by.

[kv]

Sure, give me the contact info and I'll look him up.

 -Jazzman

that's just the ting amigo' you see that normally i just call this number when i'm out, and he shows up and delivers, but recently, the phone just rings and rings...
i do have the number though (he hands you a telcom number) see if you can hurry, being clear-headed is bad for buisness

[kv]

I can believe that. Let me see if I can find this guy.

*walks outside into the cold, dialing his PDA/Cellphone*

"Hey, MFI?"

  -Jazzman

If you keep calling me like this my wife will get jellous! haha! then again, i'm not married. soka, Anyways what do ya' want, and what are you willing to pay for it?

[kv]

Can you give me a decker contact to look something up, or what's the standard fee for looking up the physical address of a telecom number?

 -Jazzman

Well, for a new contact my standard price is $5K, to track a telcom number you are looking at closer to $1K. depends, but rember, your new contact will be chargeing for a lookup as well, so it could be more after the 5 if you go that route.

[kv]

Yeah, but I think I'll opt for a decker contact. that way I don't have to use you as a middle-man ALL the time. I mean, I'd hate to make the missus even more jealous.

*slots credstick*

Here you go- who am I gonna be talking to?

  -Jazzman

Let me check your credit ballance... and... hmm... good. okay, you are getting some highclass. he's expencive, but he's trustworthy. well... if crazy is trustworthy. yea. anyways. enjoy. Goes by the name 'RuskiFace the Pirate' here is is LTG number. drop an e-mail any way you can into that account and tell him i sent you. he'll contact you.

[kv]

Okay, thanks, MFI. I'll catch up with you later.

*quickly dials the telecom number and punches in a short text message*

I need some information... specifically, the pysical location of a telecom number. MFI says you're the man to ask, so I'm asking. How much to track down the place? LTG:687-4115-317

 -Jazzman


a few minutes later a message appears on your screen


Cost is $500 for new contacts. location is a payphone owned by Seattle Phone Service. on the corner of wilson, and weathersbee. (just north of seatac on the border of the redmond barrens.) be carefull up there. it's frequented by a go-gang called the buzz-heads. (something about cyber-skulls and table-saw-blades, pretty freakey if you ask me.)
paydata good? (Y/N)

[kv]

Jazzman sends the message:

Yeah, the data is fine. Here's payment. Can you tell me anything about the area? I'm actually looking for someone.

*slots credstick, attaching payment*

 -Jazzman

Normally i charge $5k to track someone down. but that includes deliver by a GPS location to wherever they are, and is garenteed for 20 minutes... however, I can do a genaric search for less. General information will cost you $1K who is it, and how much is it worth to you?

[kv]

I'll take a look at the 1KY Pricetag. His name is Briggs, and he's a synth-weed dealer who usually uses the telecom number I gave you.

See what you can find. I'm going to check out the physical address.

*walks over to his beat-up Ford Americar and heads toward the address*

 -Jazzman

you get halfway to the address when your phone lights up with another message.
'Briggs' actually Martin Briggs. age: 31 race: Orc height 200 cm, hair: red. distinguishing marks: tatto of a cross over right eye. SIN: CRIM567.08.07834 (if you didn't notice, it's a criminal SIN) last date of arrest, two years ago. currently on probation. parole officer Danny Perkin (Telcom Link) current credit line with new city seattle national bank: 15Y last used three days ago for the amount of 150Y at the stuffer shack one block away (south) of said phone. current residence, apartment complex next to said phone, #15. landlord: Guinne Lavindos, age 45.
as you pull up you see perhaps one of the most delapadated apartment complexes you have ever witnessed. dirrectly outside of appartment 15 is a payphone. seeing as how this isn't the best part of town, the snow here has been less than atiquitaly shoveled.

[Ingo Monk]

"7PM...everyone's finally leaving..." Takashi thought to himself.  He prided himself on being the first one there and the last one to leave.  He pondered to himself what other people did on a Saturday night.  Probably go out and do something or just sit at home and watch the trid.  "I'm diffrent...I'm a professional...I'm on the fast track after all."  It was true, in another year or two he'd be Senior Engineer.  Couple of years after that he'd make upper management, possibly even Director of Software Development.  He knew it was going to happen, he could code circles around these other clowns that call themselves 'Software Engineers.'  

Takashi jacked in one final time to download his project to his headware memory.  "Gotta be on the safe side," he said to himself quietly.  "One of these jokers might get smart and try to steal my code."  He thought.  "In this business you gotta keep your back to the wall and a knife in the hand...'stab them before they stab you.'"  That's what his uncle told him.  The nefarious uncle that no one in his family trusted...but he was wealthy for a reason.  Reason enough for Takashi to listen to him.  

Takashi finished the download and went over it once more on his display link while packing up his belongings.  He threw his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the cubicle maze.  When he got to the entry hallway Hitomi was still there at her desk.  Takashi walked up to the desk with a smile "Hey Hitomi, how about dinner?"  She smiles at him..."she has the cutest smile" he thought.  

"Thanks for asking Tak, but I can't leave yet."  She glances at the set of double doors behind her.  "Maybe next week? she asks him expectantly.  "Sure thing, see ya on Monday!" Takashi says.  He smiles at her once more while dropping an origami flower he had made earlier on her desk as he turns and heads for the elevators.  "Have a great day tomorrow!" he shouts down the hall as he enters the elevator and sends it down to the parking garage.  "Poor Hitomi," he thought to himself.  "Everyone else is mean to her, they all think they're better than her or something.  All that 'status'.  I wish more people were nice to her.  I'll bring her something special on Monday."

Just then the elevetor *dings* and the doors open.  Takashi walks over to his Honda and places his thumb on pad on the door.  He gets in and fires it up...350 horses come to life.  He revs it a couple of times and listens to the roar echoing off of the garage walls.  He grins as he hits it, the screeching of tires echo throughout the garage as he is lurched back into his seat and the car flys forward.  He powerslides onto the street and takes off into the dark night headed for home.