Chapter 1: Attending the Meet (Baby Blue, PacMan, and Revs)

[Charybdis Richelle]

[GM]

Baby Blue, Pacman, and Revs enter the Space Needle and slot the cred to take the elevator to the Eye of the Needle. The view of the city on the ride up is magnificent. When the elevator stops and they step into the foyer, they can see that the view from the restaurant outshines that from the elevator by far. It is positively breath-taking. All of the outer walls are glass, and the restaurant itself slowly rotates. The patrons of the restaurant wear their corporate finest at the very least; some ensembles rival those worn on the trideo recordings of Parisian fashion shows.

Six large men wearing matching high-end tuxedos that must cost well over 1000¥ line the walls, standing as stiff and formal as the honor guard at London's famed Buckingham Palace. A troll, an ork, and a dwarf comprise half of this detail. Three humans make up the other half. The team’s trained eyes note the well-concealed bulges where each of the six carry guns. The guards all stand with their arms folded behind them, in nearly a military at-ease stance, but their eyes never stop moving.

A beautiful elven Asian woman in a short, hip hugging red satin evening gown with a plunging neckline greets Revs, Pacman, and Baby Blue. "I am Asami, your hostess for the evening. May I help you, sirs and madam? Do you have a reservation?"

[shaidar]

{Revs}

Revs tries his best to act like he belongs there, to exude confidence as the group enters the restaurant.

He smiles at their hostess "Good evening Asami, we're here for the Dashiell party."

[Charybdis Richelle]

{GM}

“Just a moment, sir,” Anasi says as she taps at the datapad embedded in her kiosk. “Yes, sir. Mr. Dashiell has already arrived.”

The hostess lets her eyes sweep all three of the group. "Please remove any weapons you may happen to be carrying for personal protection, gentlemen and lady, and hand them to Jacque." She gestures to one of the restaurant's honor guard. "He will give you a check-ticket, so that you can pick them up after your meal, and then I will escort you to Mr. Dashiell’s table.”

Jacque, a tall but oddly lanky ork, steps forward from his position against the wall and waits for the three of them to comply.

[shaidar]

{Revs}

Revs steps towards Jacque and smoothly removes his pistol and hands it, carefully, to the ork.

If he holds out a tray or something similar, then Revs will remove the mag and the chambered bullet and put them all on the tray, otherwise he'll just be careful handing it over.

[archolewa]

Baby Blue

Baby Blue studies the view outside, both in the elevator and up in the restaurant. She carefully notes any major landmarks, and keeps a careful eye on the rotating cityscape, doing her best to ensure the rotation doesn't throw off her orientation.

She smiles faintly and nods in acknowledgment of Asami's words, though she does not make any move towards the tray, seeing as she is unarmed.

Her eyes are as active as the guards' though. She makes sure to get a solid look at each one, and then spends some time sifting through her memory of each, hunting for telltale signs of any other weapons they may be carrying.

[Charybdis Richelle]

{GM}

“Thank you, sir,” Jacque says, quickly checking that the safety is on before reaching out his gloved hand to take the weapon. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out an elastic cord with a plastic fob at one end. He snaps the plastic piece in half, slips the elastic into a loop around the grip of the pistol, and pulls it tight all the while keeping the barrel pointed at the ground. “Here you go, sir. Just present this when you are ready to leave, and we will return your weapon to you.”

Jacque gives the barest nod of his head and one of the human guards standing on the opposite wall from where Jacque stepped forward comes up and takes the weapon, walks to a slot in the wall, and slides the gun inside before returning to his place against the wall.

Meanwhile, Jacque looks at Pacman and Baby Blue expectantly.

[archolewa]

Baby Blue

"I am not armed," says Baby Blue in a soft voice, briefly meeting Jaccque's eyes before returning to her study of the environment, and buildings outside the window.

[CoyotesLuck]

{GM}
The hostess lets her eyes sweep all three of the group. "Please remove any weapons you may happen to be carrying for personal protection, gentlemen and lady, and hand them to Jacque." She gestures to one of the restaurant's honor guard. "He will give you a check-ticket, so that you can pick them up after your meal, and then I will escort you to Mr. Dashiell’s table.”

Jacque, a tall but oddly lanky ork, steps forward from his position against the wall and waits for the three of them to comply.

Pacman pulls his pistol from the under arm holster beneath his jacket and hands it to Jacque then pulls a folding knife from his pocket and offers it as well. "That's everything"

Once the formalities are done, Pacman follows politely behind the rest of his teammates as they are led to the dining area.

[Charybdis Richelle]

{GM}

Jacque nods to Baby Blue’s assertion that she is unarmed. He takes Pacman’s weapons with the same caution and procedures as he had taken Revs’s. Then he takes a metal wand and runs it up and down each of the team one by one, both front and back. Once Jacque has finished scanning Baby Blue, Pacman, and Revs and declared them clean, Anasi flashes them a million nuyen smile.

"Gentlemen and lady," the hostess says, "If you'll come with me, I will escort you to Mr. Dashiell’s private dining room."

The hostess leads the three of them to one of the deflection glass private dining areas near the center of the dining room. The nature of the glass and the camera system allows the illusion of seeing all the way across to the opposite side of the dining room without the view being blocked by the private dining rooms. Anasi knocks once on the door, softly, then slowly pulls it open. "Mr. Dashiell," she says, "Your guests have arrived."

As they enter the private dining room, the first thing Baby Blue, Pacman, and Revs notice is the woman. If it weren't for the low cut, black sequined evening gown, they would swear she was the lead heavy for the Seattle Screamers, the local Urban Brawl team. Though human, the woman stands nearly 6’ 7” tall and must weigh at least 220 lbs – all of it muscle. And she is sporting enough obvious cyber to make a robot jealous. She stands at the back of the room, behind another man seated in a chair. He stands as you enter.

"Good evening, gentlemen and lady, I am Dashiell, and my… associates… are Spiff," he gestures to a lanky Chinese teenager who had gone hitherto unnoticed, his very existence overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the woman. "And Desdemona Arness," Dashiell says, gesturing to the woman behind him.

At Mr. Dashiell's words, you finally tear your eyes away from this Amazon woman and take a better look at your Johnson himself. Dashiell is slim and, frankly rather nondescript, with straight brown hair falling to touch his collar. He has a data-jack on his left temple. Dashiell is wearing dark trousers – threadbare and shapeless from obvious long wear – and a long sleeved shirt of grey material without pattern or print. There is an anonymous grey long coat draped over the back of his chair. Dashiell also has a two-day growth of stubble on his chin, and he is smoking a cigarette. He seems utterly unconcerned about the ramifications of smoking in so public a place.

"Won't you please have a seat?” Dashiell gestures to the long table before him. 5 padded wooden dining chairs with arms set on either side and one at the opposite end from Dashiell which would leave anyone sitting there with their back to the door. He glances at his watch. “And, if you will, when can we expect the rest of your team to arrive?”

[CoyotesLuck]

{GM}

"Won't you please have a seat?” Dashiell gestures to the long table before him. 5 padded wooden dining chairs with arms set on either side and one at the opposite end from Dashiell which would leave anyone sitting there with their back to the door. He glances at his watch. “And, if you will, when can we expect the rest of your team to arrive?”

Pacman steps forward to the seat opposite Dashiell. "Our sincerest apologies, sir. Between the brevity of advanced notice and a certain level of professional paranoia, some of our group members are otherwise occupied. They do send their warmest regards and regrets that they are unable to join you this evening." Pacman gives a slight bow to our host and sits down with his back to the door. "I do expect that your colleagues will be able to address any threat that enters behind me this evening, yes?"

[Charybdis Richelle]

{GM}

“And every threat inside it,” Spiff mutters under his breath. The Amazon woman cuts her eyes at him hard, and the Chinese teen shrugs, making no apology but not saying anything more, either.

Ignoring the minor exchange between his bodyguards, Dashiell nods. “But, of course,” he says, perhaps an answer to Pacman’s question, perhaps an introduction to his next words. “The quintessential paranoia that lies at the heart of every shadowrunner,” Dashiell says with a single soft laugh, “I had almost forgotten.”

The teen behind him rolls his eyes, snickering until Desdemona shakes her head. Then Spiff immediately falls silent, standing straight and tall, painting on a sober expression,

Dashiell continues to ignore the reactions of his bodyguards. “Very well, are the three of you are empowered to make decisions for the whole team, Miss Li, Mr, Packard, Mr. Revutsky?” he says, looking at each of them in turn, “I don’t want you having to dash out and make phone calls or have private conferences with your fellow team members – outside of these private, soundproof walls – before we have come to some arrangement. As long as that is the case, then I am willing to proceed without the rest of them. It saves my principal a tidy sum, after all, and that will do wonders for my reputation.”

[CoyotesLuck]

{GM}

Dashiell continues to ignore the reactions of his bodyguards. “Very well, are the three of you are empowered to make decisions for the whole team, Miss Li, Mr, Packard, Mr. Revutsky?” he says, looking at each of them in turn, “I don’t want you having to dash out and make phone calls or have private conferences with your fellow team members – outside of these private, soundproof walls – before we have come to some arrangement. As long as that is the case, then I am willing to proceed without the rest of them. It saves my principal a tidy sum, after all, and that will do wonders for my reputation.”

{Pacman}
"Yes sir, we are the envoys and negotiators for the team and are empowered to make decisions, barring a handful of unlikely scenarios."

[archolewa]

Baby Blue

Baby Blue sits down at one of the seats, and futzes with the drink ordering software for a moment, as if indecisive about whether or what to order, and then orders nothing. While doing so, she scans the room through her eyelashes, getting a close look at each of the three in front of her. She studies them for any signs of hidden weapons, as well as trying to gauge their body language.

One thing of special interest to her is whether the teen's immature nonsense is exactly that: immature nonsense, or whether it's an act to trick the three of them into dismissing him as a non-concern.

"Speak your job and offer."

[Charybdis Richelle]

{Pacman}

"Yes sir, we are the envoys and negotiators for the team and are empowered to make decisions, barring a handful of unlikely scenarios."

{GM}

Dashiell nods. “Good, good…”

Baby Blue

Baby Blue sits down at one of the seats, and futzes with the drink ordering software for a moment, as if indecisive about whether or what to order, and then orders nothing. While doing so, she scans the room through her eyelashes, getting a close look at each of the three in front of her. She studies them for any signs of hidden weapons, as well as trying to gauge their body language.

One thing of special interest to her is whether the teen's immature nonsense is exactly that: immature nonsense, or whether it's an act to trick the three of them into dismissing him as a non-concern.

{GM}

Dashiell ignores Baby Blue as she fidgets with the ordering tablet. popping it up from where it sits in the table to angle itself to face her.

Looking over the trio, none of them seem armed, though from the looks of her, Desdemona most likely doesn’t need a weapon to be deadly. As she appraises the two bodyguards, she notes the Amazon woman doing exactly the same with the three of you. The teen, on the other hand, stands with his eyes closed.

"Speak your job and offer."

{GM}

“All in good time, Miss Li,” Dashiell says. “Or would you prefer Baby Blue? I know runners sometimes get touchy about such things.” He glances at Pacman and Revs. “The same goes for you. In the formal surroundings, I tend to use people’s given names, but far be it from me to offend.”

Your host retakes his seat and taps at the table in front of him, and his own ordering tablet swivels up with the screen facing him. “Take a look at the menu and order whatever you like. I heartily recommend the shrimp scampi; they actually use real shrimp, not from the Sound, of course, hermetically grown, and the chef makes an excellent sauce. We will discuss business after the meal. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I rarely get to eat this well outside of business negotiations, and I hate to have such a fine meal ruined by such weighty matters."

“Let’s order drinks first, shall we, so we can enjoy them while deciding on the rest.” Dashiell looks over the drink menu. “I'll take a dry martini,” he says, thinking aloud as he presses the screen to make his selection, “while I peruse the menu to see if they have added anything new since last I was here that might tempt me away from the shrimp scampi." He looks back over his shoulder, "Dez?"

"No, thank you, Si...sir..." The ‘i’ on her first try is short, rather than the schwa sound in ‘sir.’ She pauses and gives Dashiell a sheepish half smile, "I'm on duty, sir." Her blue eyes sparkle as she says the word 'sir'; it seems as though she and Dashiell are sharing some private joke.

Dashiell shakes his head, "As you wish, Dez. Spiff?"

"Sure thing, boss," Spiff says, opening his eyes. "Scotch on the rocks..." But Dez cuts her eyes at him, and he virtually withers under her gaze. "Umm. On second thought, scratch that. I'm on duty too, boss," he hastily amends.

"Gentlemen and lady? Would you care for a drink while you study the menu?" Dashiell asks.

[shaidar]

{Revs}

Revs takes a seat next to Pacman, on the other side from Baby Blue.

“All in good time, Miss Li,” Dashiell says. “Or would you prefer Baby Blue? I know runners sometimes get touchy about such things.” He glances at Pacman and Revs. “The same goes for you. In the formal surroundings, I tend to use people’s given names, but far be it from me to offend.”
[/dialog]

"I really don't mind, Mr Dashiell, whichever you prefer."

Your host retakes his seat and taps at the table in front of him, and his own ordering tablet swivels up with the screen facing him. “Take a look at the menu and order whatever you like. I heartily recommend the shrimp scampi; they actually use real shrimp, not from the Sound, of course, hermetically grown, and the chef makes an excellent sauce. We will discuss business after the meal. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I rarely get to eat this well outside of business negotiations, and I hate to have such a fine meal ruined by such weighty matters."

“Let’s order drinks first, shall we, so we can enjoy them while deciding on the rest.” Dashiell looks over the drink menu. “I'll take a dry martini,” he says, thinking aloud as he presses the screen to make his selection, “while I peruse the menu to see if they have added anything new since last I was here that might tempt me away from the shrimp scampi." He looks back over his shoulder, "Dez?"

"No, thank you, Si...sir..." The ‘i’ on her first try is short, rather than the schwa sound in ‘sir.’ She pauses and gives Dashiell a sheepish half smile, "I'm on duty, sir." Her blue eyes sparkle as she says the word 'sir'; it seems as though she and Dashiell are sharing some private joke.

Dashiell shakes his head, "As you wish, Dez. Spiff?"

"Sure thing, boss," Spiff says, opening his eyes. "Scotch on the rocks..." But Dez cuts her eyes at him, and he virtually withers under her gaze. "Umm. On second thought, scratch that. I'm on duty too, boss," he hastily amends.

"Gentlemen and lady? Would you care for a drink while you study the menu?" Dashiell asks.

"I'll have an iced coffee, double-shot, thank you."

Revs starts to peruse the menu, spending a unusually large amount of time looking through the vegetarian appetizer's before looking at the steak options.

[CoyotesLuck]

{Revs}

Revs takes a seat next to Pacman, on the other side from Baby Blue.

Revs starts to peruse the menu, spending a unusually large amount of time looking through the vegetarian appetizer's before looking at the steak options.

{Pacman}
Pacman browses the menu briefly picking out his options and quickly tapping in something that promises to be their top-top tier food: The Pacific Rim Surf and Turf Sampler, a tour of the Pacific rim: Toro nigiri, fried cubes of Chilean sea bass, wagyu tartare, black rice congee, and local wild berry compote. Flipping to the beverage selections, Pacman eagerly snags a glass of *real* fresh orange juice and a carafe of the house warmed sweet sake. Looking over to Dashiell "This should be an excellent meal, thank you."

[Charybdis Richelle]

"Gentlemen and lady? Would you care for a drink while you study the menu?" Dashiell asks.

"I'll have an iced coffee, double-shot, thank you."

{GM}

“Done,” Dashiell says, placing the order, leaving Revs free to study the menu.

{Revs}
Revs starts to peruse the menu, spending an unusually large amount of time looking through the vegetarian appetizers before looking at the steak options.

{GM}

The vegetarian offerings are extensive ranging from goat cheese stuffed mushrooms and fried green beans to an astounding array of salads – both vegetable and fruit. Several varieties of vegetable soups are available. The soup of the day is roasted red pepper bisque. Many of the vegetarian and vegan options are elven.

They have just about any kind of steak from filet mignon to sirloin to ribeye to T-bone to porterhouse; plus many surf and turf options. They even have bison and buffalo steak.

{Pacman}
Pacman browses the menu briefly picking out his options and quickly tapping in something that promises to be their top-top tier food: The Pacific Rim Surf and Turf Sampler, a tour of the Pacific rim: Toro nigiri, fried cubes of Chilean sea bass, wagyu tartare, black rice congee, and local wild berry compote. Flipping to the beverage selections, Pacman eagerly snags a glass of *real* fresh orange juice and a carafe of the house warmed sweet sake. Looking over to Dashiell "This should be an excellent meal, thank you."

{GM}

Dashiell smiles. “I certainly intend to enjoy it. I think this is what I enjoy most about this business – enjoying the best food the area can offer, on someone else’s credstick. But don’t thank me; you can thank my principal yourself, assuming you accept the job and successfully complete it, that is.”

A soft knock sounds and a human woman wearing the waitstaff uniform steps in. “I’m Danielle, and I’ll be your server this evening, Mr. Dashiell, and guests.” She serves the drinks for those who have already ordered and then steps out, as unobtrusive as a mouse.

Dashiell settles back, patiently waiting while his guests order.

[archolewa]

“All in good time, Miss Li,” Dashiell says. “Or would you prefer Baby Blue? I know runners sometimes get touchy about such things.” He glances at Pacman and Revs. “The same goes for you. In the formal surroundings, I tend to use people’s given names, but far be it from me to offend.”

Baby Blue shrugs.

“Let’s order drinks first, shall we, so we can enjoy them while deciding on the rest.” Dashiell looks over the drink menu. “I'll take a dry martini,” he says, thinking aloud as he presses the screen to make his selection, “while I peruse the menu to see if they have added anything new since last I was here that might tempt me away from the shrimp scampi." He looks back over his shoulder, "Dez?"

"I already ate." Baby Blue gives a tight little smile as she orders a glass of water. In fact, she doesn't eat food prepared by anyone but herself or someone she trusts implicitly. Certainly not at a place like this, where everyone has enough money to buy the chefs ten times over. "Rich food and I don't always agree."

[Charybdis Richelle]

"I already ate." Baby Blue gives a tight little smile as she orders a glass of water. In fact, she doesn't eat food prepared by anyone but herself or someone she trusts implicitly. Certainly not at a place like this, where everyone has enough money to buy the chefs ten times over. "Rich food and I don't always agree."

{GM}

Dashiell’s eyes widen, and his left eyebrow arches upwards for just an instant. The reaction disappears, schooled to polite disinterest so quickly that those watching almost doubt they saw it at all.

“As you prefer,” he says in precisely the same tone he used when Desdemona turned down a drink because she is on duty.

Dashiell makes his selection, the shrimp scampi he mentioned earlier. A short while later, a waitress brings you your drinks and then later your meal. You eat. The food is as exquisite as promised.

During the meal, Dashiell makes light discussion, talking about the weather, the latest Urban Brawl game, local politics, and the odd changes in lifestyle since the death of President Dunklezahn. He flatly refuses to discuss business of any sort until after the meal. "Bad for the digestion," he explains if anyone asks why they have to wait.

Throughout the meal, Dez and Spiff stand silently behind Dashiell. Since the last time Desdemona stared him down, Spiff has remained as solid as any pro. Watching them, whether openly or surreptitiously, the group notes little new about Dez. She seems a pretty straightforward bodyguard – maybe a former corporate soldier, mercenary, or street samurai. Despite searching for any subtle hints, the team is sure the Amazon, Dez, carries no weapons – other than her body, that is. But then with the thoroughness that Jacque showed at the door, it is hardly a surprise.

Spiff, on the other hand, remains more of a mystery. He is a Chinese teen, perhaps 16 or 17 years old. He is rather short, even given his Asian descent, and on the slender side of average. His tux doesn't fit him quite right, making the team suspect that it's a rental rather than one of his own. Also, from the way it lies, almost certainly that Spiff wears body armor beneath the tux. Even after a more thorough, intensive examination he also still appears unarmed. Spiff sports no obvious cyberware. Though seemingly young to be a bodyguard, the teen carries himself with a confident air,

and he holds a hard edge in his eyes –

when they remain open, that is. For a large part of the meal, Spiff keeps his eyes closed. Despite this, he doesn’t seem to be sleeping. His stance never wavers as though he has started to nod off.

After dinner and dessert, the waitress comes in and clears the table and brings any requested after dinner drinks. Dashiell has peach brandy. "That will be all, Danielle. I will be locking the door. From here on, we will summon you if we need you." When the waitress leaves, Dashiell looks back at Desdemona and nods. She reaches into the pocket of the overcoat on Dashiell's chair and pulls out a small electronic device. She switches it on and then sets it on the floor in the left rear corner of the room.

“I know the Eye has its own white noise generator and jammers,” Dashiell says, “But I suppose I must confess to a certain edge of paranoia myself. In matters such as these, I prefer to use my own. If you do as well, feel free to set them up, and then we can come to the reason I invited you to be my guests this evening."

[shaidar]

{Revs}

Revs settles on ordering a small selection of Mexican vegetarian appetizers, then follows that with a main course of surf and turf: scallops and shrimp with a filet mignon (cooked medium), a medley of brocolli, green beans and asparagus, and waffle fries. For dessert he goes looking for some Ukrainian (or Russian) options, choosing a fruity Syrniki if available. He finishes up with an extra strong cup of black coffee with plenty of sugar.

During the meal he watches the bodyguards with interest, but is careful not to stare, and does his best to engage in the conversation on topics he knows about.