I push back from the table, "That's an ally of Marcus Wellby. Come on, we're going down there. No time to change, but you're putting on that armor I bought you, and taking the knife and gun." I'm heading to grab my vest and Area Predator. "The gun will be for show only. You're with me the whole time, I'll keep you safe. But I am rather sure I'll need your expertise on this." Then, I'm getting down there as fast as we can.
Malin slips into the armor and a pair of shoes, add the gun and knife to the belt you purchased, and puts that on, pulling her top down to cover it. She's ready in just a few minutes and waits for you to lead the way.
I'm heading straight down to the shop. I ask Malin to see if she can Variska on the line. I want to make sure she's okay. Then, I'll see about Samhain.
"There is an older troll woman, she's got a cut, but she's moving around, sweeping. Running the feeds back. 27 minutes, 43 seconds ago, two elves walked in, had a conversation that got heated, then left. 87 seconds later, they came back and busted the windows. One went in and hit Variska? Yes? Variska three times, but she did something and he took off. His friend took two more hits on the window, then they left. They were wearing masks like... I'll try to describe them later, but they sort of pixellated the faces. Lone Star responded, there's one officer still there."
You're about half a block from the shop when she finishes. You can see the broken windows, Variska's silhouette, one Lone Star cop with a motorcycle parked out front.
"If Variska's alright, Malin, can you track back those elf thugs?" I ask as I slow down a little. No reason for a run-in with Lone Star if I could better solve this hunting Samhain.
Malin tugs you toward a taqueria a few doors down from the shop. You know from experience not to eat there, but it's summer and the man that runs the place makes his aguas frescas from fresh fruit off the community gardens when they're in season. "Sorry, but I need to sit still for a minute if I'm going to track back and forward to find them."
"I mean literally a minute, or less. Get me something to drink... no booze." She sits down at a two-top table and goes spacey, but you can see she's still tracking the world around her, as well. When you get back with a lime-and-canteloupe agua fresca from Javier at the counter, Malin looks up. "Can I open a channel, send you a map? There are gaps, but I've got a good guess."
Malin nods. "They entered the neighborhood from the river side, and left the same way, but by a different route. Here's the map."
She opens a channel, bypassing the usual call-and-response permission and security sequence, and you have a map that leads to the end of Rademacher Street, a pier that's currently used to cross the Detroit River to what used to be the Canada side, a few decades ago. The trail is nearly thirty minutes old now. What do you do?
Malin also shoots you a decent picture of the two elves on their bikes. She was right, there's something obscuring their faces. The Samhain Boys "logo" that British Dave found is emblazoned on their jackets.
You make it to the pier, kicking in your wired reflexes and speed to move through foot and vehicle traffic at the speed of a motorcycle yourself. There's no one here on the Detroit side of the river, but there are a few cameras, which Malin can access once you give her the location. She quickly locates the right time stamp and shows you a feed of the two elves loading their bikes onto a flat river boat and hopping in, taking off toward Windsor on the other side. You made up some time, they left twenty-two minutes ago.
There are a few boats tied up and a couple old men fishing to pass the time. Certainly not fishing to eat—you've seen the crazy shit that's swimming in that river.
I come up to the old men, "I need a fast ride across the river. You guy see those fraggin' elf thugs earlier? They hurt one of my friends. I'll pay two hundred nuyen for a ride." I hold up a credstick.
One of the guys gives you a gap-toothed grin. Everybody calls him Tio Gordo (Uncle Fatty), because he's thin as a rail. In his creaky, high voice he says, "I'll getchoo across ese, and you don't need no NuYen for me to do it. Looked like bad news, those daisy-eaters."
He thumbs the starter button and the engine on his little runabout purrs to life. The boat, you realize, is in much better shape than it looks to be, and you're soon moving at quite a clip, wind in your face. Out on the water, the Zug Hum seems to take on a personality all of its own, and you definitely wouldn't want to take a tumble off the boat into the water.
A few minutes later, you're on the Windsor side of the river.
Why don't you give me an Investigate roll with a free +2 bonus from Malin's assistance, to pick up the trail. From the video, they clearly weren't too worried about covering their tracks, so you're just dealing with a static difficulty of Mediocre (0).
I hop out of the boat, look back at the old man, "If you wait around for maybe half an hour, I'd appreciate it. But if something looks odd, go ahead and take off. Thanks again, Tio Gordo."
I'll start creeping up, quick and quiet on their trail.
Malin guides you, hopping from closed-circuit camera to warehouse security feed, until you reach the spot where she says the two gangers stopped. It's a low warehouse in a mostly disused area of similar buildings. The next lot over is basically rubble. Lots of cover all around here, you could probably stage half an army if the Samhain Boys don't have a hacker better than Malin to keep control of the surveillance.
No bikes outside, they must store them in the warehouse. What do you do?
I'm looking to get close enough to mark the place for Malin. No sense picking a fight I can't finish. I'll let Malin surveil the place for a couple days and gather intel. "Malin, this is the place. Drop a sprite here, watch them for a few days so we can get an idea on their numbers, any leader, where they're going, that kind of drek."
I'll double back to Uncle Fatty, then come back for Malin.
Tio Gordo is still there, grinning and chatting with an equally old man hanging out on this side of the river. He hops back into the boat when you arrive and starts the motor. "You find those putos,ese?"
When you head back to Variska's block, the Lone Star bike is gone, and Malin is no longer in the little restaurant. You see her through the open door of the talisman shop, talking with Variska herself. The holes in the window-glass have been covered with cardboard, for the moment.
Variska and Malin break off their conversation and turn to you. The troll has a bandage on her forehead, but otherwise seems mostly okay. When you ask, she laughs. "Should have seen it, Jubilex! I scared that mudak good. Just a glamour, but he wasn't ready for Baba Yaga, that's sure." She murmurs a few words and her visage changes. A long, sharp, hooked nose, pointy teeth, sunken eyes with a red glow, hair matted in dirt-caked dreadlocks. She laughs as she returns to her normal self.
I grin. "Baba fraggin' Yaga? Poor cutter." I give her another look, just to make sure she's alright. "Was it a shakedown? Were they after something in particular?"
Variska answers, almost spitting. "Protection, they said, but they didn't really seem that interested in getting the money. More looking for an excuse to bust stuff up, if you ask me."
Variska seems okay, physically. If you care to figure out more about her mental state, why don't you give me an Empathy roll (this is optional). She's a cagey old dame, so the difficulty is +2.
"Alright." I say cautiously, not having anything else to go on. "If they come around here again, let them know you're friends with Marcus Wellby, alright? This drek won't stand." I look around. "Let me get your windows fixed, alright? I'll have a few guys come over. It's no trouble."
"Oh," I say, surprised, but not offended. "I'll step out. Need to let the team know there was trouble. I know Lindo will be pissed."
I step outside, send this all-message: Marcus Wellby,
A couple Samhain gangers roughed up Variska. I'm here with her,
bumps and bruises and some broken glass, nothing more, really.
Got their location though. We're watching them.
Also, new hacker on board. You'll like here. Even you will like
her Niz.
-Jubilex
I get a pingback from Circe's old line. I forgot to take it off the all-message macro.
I put a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry about meeting them, they're good people, like a family, really. A family that shoots bad guys and makes a bunch of nuyen doing it, but still." I walk with her for a bit. "You can help cook, sure."
Malin gives a shy grin and looks up at you from under her bangs. "Wiz. I make a mean omelette. Let's get groceries." She waits for you to lead the way, starts ticking off ingredients under her breath. "peppers, potatoes, onions, eggs of course, bacon..." She tails off into silence, clearly still making her list.
It's hard not to like Malin. I hope she's able to keep up. Losing her will hurt. That's why I'm going to push her. Hard. I don't want to lose anyone else. Plus, Mat would kill me if it happened. So, it won't.
We'll head to Mac's, of course. I want to check in with him, see if Samhain's given him any trouble. I worry about those assholes.
At Mac's, Diego gives you 'the nod,' as you walk in, his filed-off horns gleaming in the fluorescent lights of the market. "Yo, wiz-man. Who's Thumbelina, here?" The dwarf-slur is casual, not malice behind it.
"Malin," I say. "This is Diego. He run's Mac's. He doesn't want you to know this, but he's a pretty nice guy." Then to Diego, "Diego, my friend, this is Malin. She's a drek-hot hacker, so you should be really nice to her." I give him a I'm serious, even though we're joking grin.
Diego's face contorts into something probably intended to be a grin. "Ain't I nice to everyone, Jube?" He shakes his head as if dismayed at the implication.
Malin grabs a basket and quickly sets to work on the shopping list in her head, giving you time to chat with Diego, if you want.
Diego drops the gruff pretense for just a moment, showing worry as he asks, "Is she hurt?" Concern is replaced by anger in a split second, though. "I've seen some new gang types loitering around, but no trouble here, yet. I'll keep an eye out. You let me know if a couple fists are needed anywhere." He holds up the rather impressive fists as he says that.
"She got a few bumps and bruises, but she gave them a helluva fright." I assure him. As to his offer of help, "I'll keep it in mind, the help, I mean. I've got a line on where they might be holed up. Watching them for a bit, see if they're just punks or a legit gang. If you need any help, you let me know, alright?"
The troll gives you a look. "You know you don't have to handle this on your own, Jubilex. The whole fraggin' barrio will stand with you, if it comes to it. Los Lobos, too, I'm sure. We'd rather fight with you than mourn you because you felt like you had to be a hero."
I hold a breath, a bit of emotion washing over me. Nod. "Alright, Diego. You're right. I'm no hero, man. Not cutting you out. Just want to know how big a bite we're taking out before we do. If they escalate, I'll call in the big guns, which is you and Los Lobos." I shake that odd feeling in my gut for a moment, "Thanks."
Diego nods, satisfied with what he's already said. When you turn to check on Malin, she's holding up two red peppers, comparing them intensely. Finally, she chooses one and puts it in the basket.
Malin
When she notices you noticing, she grins again. "I should ask what you already have, as far as staples. How are you on eggs? Do you have any self-rising flour? I could make biscuits."
I pull up my fridge contents on my pocket secretary and share it with her, "There you go. All my dirty secrets. And if you give me trouble about the peeps I have in the freezer, I will be very upset with that violation of trust."
She's clearly still not sure what a "peep" is, but she reads your smile correctly and gives a slightly embarrassed shrug and tilt of the head before returning it. She scans your fridge list and picks up a few more things before presenting the basket for your inspection. Aside from having not nearly enough bacon in it, everything looks just about right, if a little more complicated than you'd have picked out on your own.
If she wants to impress, I'll give her a shot. I grab more bacon, then check out. We'll chat on the walk back to the flat. "What kind of music are you into? Ever go clubbing?"
"Not much in the way of clubs in the Cypress Hills, but of course I could listen to all the music I wanted. I'm kind of all over the place. I like bits and pieces of everything." She pauses, then continues as if she's letting you in on a secret. "My friend Sierra and I used to dance around to NuSka in our PJs, when we had sleepovers."
I chuckle. That's an amusing image. "Circe and I used to run around to dive bars chasing garage bands and NuSka. Ever listened to Treen Stefani before she went big?" That's my one and only rising star story, I hope she's heard of the girl. Great-granddaughter of a ska star from the turn of the century.
That gets an incredulous look. "No. She worked dive bars in the PRD for a couple years. Circe said she was just paying dues until the recording corp decided to push her music. And yeah, she was young when she was here. Couldn't even drink in the bars she was playing. Oh hey, how old are you?"
Malin blinks. "I'm twenty-four." Dwarves do age slower, but she still acts young for her age. "It's cool that you saw her when she was still cool." A quick glance away, then, "What kind of music do you like? Now."
"Do you think maybe we... you, me, Jessi, maybe Uncle Mat if we can convince him... maybe we could go dancing sometime? I'd like to learn how to salsa." You're back to the door to your stairwell now. The theater's playing porn again tonight, apparently. The Pizza Troll, He Delivers, to be precise.
As you walk up the stairs, you can't help but notice that Malin's diminuitive backside is nevertheless quite finely formed. The casual pants she's wearing flare out loose in the legs, but fit rather tightly at the top.
Malin
Without turning around, Malin says, "That would be wiz!" She does her best to stifle it, but you can clearly hear a muffled yawn just as you get up to the landing.
"Not tonight, though." I remark idly as I head to the door, letting the iris sensor pick me up. "Early night. Lack of sleep causes mistakes." I head in, taking groceries to the fridge, putting things away. "Plus, we have to get up early to cook. I look forward to your biscuits, Malin." I grin when I say it.
From there, it's a fairly straight path to bedtime. When your alarm goes off, you roll out of bed to work out and hear that Malin's already moving around. You poke your head out to see that she's cleared a small area in the living room and is in a loose white silk tunic and pants going through the flowing motions of qi gong forms. Not one of the martial practices, but the Eight Silken Movements, meant to improve and promote physical and mental well-being. She is focused and facing away from you, and you assume she's got some sort of meditative music playing in her head, since her movements are precisely if fluidly timed.
I'll watch for a bit, to see how smooth she is, what our starting point will be. It's interesting. Peaceful. Like a dance. She's stocky, being a dwarf, but pretty. I bet she'll break some tiny hearts.
After a few minutes, I'll head back to my room and throw on some workout clothes and get to my morning routine. Glad I didn't stay up last night. Think I'll head out for a jog, at the ass-crack of the morning. At least I might see the sun rise, which is cool.
Malin is still going through her forms as you leave for your jog. She gives you a wave, but doesn't break her exercise. She clearly has developed flexibility, but little power. She is leaner than most dwarves and her movements have the certainty of long practice and muscle memory, but the basics are there. She moves around her center of gravity with confidence and awareness. You won't be starting from square zero.
Once outside and moving, the air is still blessedly almost-cool this early. Although the neigborhood never completely sleeps (no settled place in the Wireless World really does), the few people you see at this hour are mostly drunks, addicts, and late-night partiers staggering home. As you pass Mac's (open), Diego is already opening boxes of fresh produce. You have to wonder if he's got one of those implants that reduces the need to sleep, which makes you wonder where and how he got it.
The Hum is light today, almost plaintive, like the distant midnight howl of a very, very large wolf baying at the moon.
Where are you when you catch the rising sun, Jubilex?
I'm jogging down Jefferson, which is how I timed it, hoping the empty lots would give me a good view of the rising sun. It's a wonderful experience, seeing it rise above the horizon. Special and beautiful. I'm no shaman, but I can see the magic in the sun bringing dawn to the world.
One of those rare moments when it was just you and Lindo, staking out what was supposed to be a blood-magic kidnapping ring, he waxed a little poetical about the power of what he called "liminal times," threshold moments like sunrise and sunset, and on a larger scale equinoxes and solstices. "At sunrise, the day is new, not yet ruined, and the power of a spell cast then will grow along with the sun, if you do it right."
This is one of those days when you feel it, too, apparently. At this angle, the rays seem to illuminate the beautiful touches, the occasional tree or windowsill flowerbox, rather than yesterday's trash. You know there's pollution in the air, but some magic seems to filter it out before it reaches your lungs.
When was the last time you felt this good? In the real world, I mean, not in some programmed BTL VR dream.
I was on vacay in Qatar. It was autumn there, if a place that hot has a real Autumn, but that's what the smoking hot attendant told me. I had a penthouse room at one of the tallest hotels in the world. I blew thousands of nuyen every night, casinos, big shows, the best food. I mean really, the best food I've ever had. It was amazing.
There was a moment, watching the sun set from my balcony, a bottle of merlot sitting on the rail, it was the most relaxed I've ever been. Just me. No responsibilities, nothing to escape from. Circe was alive, and happy. I wasn't mixed up with Jessi. My job was aces. It was perfect.
This morning, this jog, bring back that moment. A little winded from the jog so far, you stand for a moment to admire the rising sun, filling your lungs with oxygen, then turn back towards the apartment.
A few blocks from home, you see the familiar sight of Circe turning the corner away from you, toward that little coffee-shop/dry cleaners with no sign that everyone just calls "Vaso's". Just the back of his head, of course, but the gait, the clothes, the haircut—all unmistakable.
Once your brain catches up with your eyes, you kick in your wired speed and backtrack around the Post St. corner within a few seconds. No one in sight except Vaso herself, half a block up, sweeping off the sidewalk in front of her place.
I buried Circe. I'm not going to make a fool out of myself asking Vaso if she's seen him. I close my eyes, stop walking, try to center myself. Exhale.
I miss you, Circe.
One more loud breath, then I pick back up into a jog, head for home. Sure, I'm looking for him, but I'm not going to look like an idiot chasing ghosts.
No more flashes, no sightings, but there's a corner of your brain that is simply convinced that you saw what you think you saw, and it continues to haunt you for a bit.
Malin
When you return to the apartment, Malin is showered, dressed, and already working on setting up her mise en place for breakfast. She's left bacon to you, but eggs are already cracked, ingredients chopped into equal-sized bits, and she's got flour, heavy cream, and a touch of salty queso fresco from the bodega laid out for her biscuits, ready to mix up and drop onto a baking sheet that has a spray can of nonstick spray next to it.
She takes you in, widens her eyes at something she sees, but makes no comment other than, "Good run?"
I take in the spread she's laid out. "Nice work, Malin. I think I'm keeping you here for a bit, yeah?" I smirk. Then, I answer, "The run was good, very good. Best time of the day, before it gets too hot, you know? I'll be in the shower."
I'll head for the shower, then dress in a loose cotton shirt and a comfy pair of chinos, no shoes.
You pad back in to the kitchen and start frying up bacon (always a favorite). Malin's clearly done with her prep, waiting to mix up her quick biscuit dough and drop it once people start arriving.
Malin
"So, is this a Bloody Mary kind of breakfast? Just asking." She looks as if she wants to take the question back as soon as she asks it.
Malin shrugs. "Of course, but that wasn't why I asked. Sometimes people have a Bloody Mary or mimosa or whatever when they get together for breakfast, is all. Just didn't know if I should whip up some mix or squeeze orange juice or whatever." She seems worried that you might think she's a lush or something.
"It's alright, Malin." I assure her, a hand up. "I know Mat would enjoy it. I wouldn't mind it, either. Whip and squeeze away, please. I have bacon to master." I head over to the little pantry and get my apron, because it makes me grin when I wear the apron. Maybe I'm showing off.
I'll tackle he pieces of the meal she hasn't already tackled with her fervor. I think a skillet of bacon is simple, but some pepper and a dash of chilies to give it some kick will be nice. Not too much, just enough for flavor.
Mat is the first to arrive, at a few minutes before 8. He gives Malin a hug and they chat about your day yesterday as he makes himself a bloody mary. Taking a sip, he raises an eyebrow. "Malin, is that Dirty Jerzy's mix recipe? Tastes just like it..."
Malin
Malin gives him a smirk. "Yes. I obsessed over reverse engineering it for two years after I hit drinking age. That bloody mary was the first alcoholic drink I purchased legally." She mixes her biscuit dough and drops it on a greased baking sheet a spoonful at a time, then slips the sheet into the oven.
I'm at the skillet, turning the bacon when Mat comes in. I'm on my second batch, "Grab some bacon, Mat. I bought an obscene amount of it." I look over at Malin, "What's special about this bloody mary mix?"
Malin pours a bit of vodka over ice cubes and adds her mix from the pitcher. She squeezes a lime into the glass, adds a stick of celery, and hands the glass to you. "Try it and see." Mat looks at you as you take the glass, then grabs a piece of bacon and starts munching.
It's mostly what you'd expect. Tomato juice, bite from horseradish, spice from black pepper and hot sauce, a little Worcestershire sauce. There's something unusual going on, though. Two somethings, actually. One of them is a bright tanginess that really brings everything into focus, and the other is some sort of savory deep note that acts like the bass line under a dance song, tying the whole drink together. All in all, it's a damned good bloody mary, but you have no idea what the secret is.
After letting it sit and drinking it down, I smack my lips a couple times. "That was... pretty amazing. I can see why you're want to figure it out, Malin." I take another drink, then head back to the bacon. "Wow. That's really interesting. Good interesting."
I spice this skillet of bacon, then ask, "Malin, how long have you been doing qi gong ?" I grin over at Mat, "Did you teach her, Mat?"
"The secret's pickle juice and fish sauce, by the way... I've been doing qi gong since I was young. I used to be pretty hyperactive when I was younger, and mother put me into some classes because one of her friends suggested it." She shrugs one shoulder. "It helped, and I kept going."
Mat
Mat returns your grin. "Qi gong, me? I'm more a direct-application-of-force kind of person. That stuff's a little too pretty for me."
With a bit of flourish, I spatula under a few strips of bacon and flip them up, then catch them again in the skillet. "Aw, c'mon, Mat. Nothing is too pretty for you." I grin over at him, teasing a bit. I take a third drink of the bloody mary. Not getting drunk, but a hint of a buzz seems like a good idea after the Circe not-sighting.
Nizoni walks into the kitchen. "You should really lock the window by the fire escape. Okay, it was locked. You should really have better locks on your windows. Not that it would matter to me, but still." She grabs a piece of bacon, eyes the pitcher of bloody mary mix, and says, "Ooh, bloodies! Who are you?" That last bit addressed to Malin, of course.
"Our new hacker in training." I answer as Nizoni munches on the bacon. I turn to Malin, "Malin, this is Nizoni, our infiltration expert. Niz, this is Malin. She's one of Mat's kin, and a wiz hacker. This is her first foray into running the shadows, but, she has a world of potential. And... she made the biscuits. As well as the bloodies."
I reach over for my pocket secretary and add a reminder to buy new window locks.
Nizoni, still chewing, nods to Malin and accepts a bloody mary. "Jubilex told me I had to like you." She sips on the bloody mary, raises an eyebrow. "Okay, decent start." Nizoni perches on a chair, legs drawn up under her.
Just about the time the first batch of biscuits come out of the oven, Lindo rings the bell.
Lindo nods to you and says, in that rich basso, "Good morning to you." He seems unusually chipper today. He takes off his tophat and sets it aside with his cane (Yes, even at eight in the A-fragging-M, he has them.), then makes his way to the kitchen, spying the setup. He doesn't ask for a bloody mary. "You must be Malin. Jubilex didn't say you were such a lovely young lady."
Malin gives a shy smile, showing a single dimple. (Left side.)
Lindo gives you a very atypical grin. "I'm going to be a great-grandfather soon, Jubilex. Talked to my grand-daughter last night. And..." He pauses for effect. "Her husband got a job. Finally."
I raise a bloody mary to that, "That's great, old man! Great-grandfather and still running the shadows? That's wiz. To Lindo the Eternal badass shaman."
Lindo quirks a smile and sweeps a bow. "Oui. My seed is strong, even unto the third generation." He swipes a piece of bacon off the platter. (Does no one in your crew have manners?) and takes a bite. "Nice! A little extra oomph, there." Lindo sits in one of the kitchen chairs, back erect, legs slightly apart, and plants his hands on his knees. "So, while someone is making me a ham and cheese omelette with a little bell pepper and a lot of mushrooms, why don't you tell me why meeting our new hacker candidate was worth breakfast, Jubilex? Aside from being family." As cheerful as he is, his look to you is like a hawk eyeing a pigeon.
Is it bad manners to eat the food I offered? Nah, this is how a tight crew works.
I move over to the eggs, ham and cheese and start working on the omelette. "Malin's got a drekload of potential. And she's family. She's never run the shadows. So, I'm bringing her on, while training her. I'll need your help." I look to Nizaoni, "All of you. Malin can hack like nobody we've worked with, so I'm confident this will make the team more competitive."
Lindo gives Mat a searching look. "Thought you and your family didn't get along, Mat. How did Malin come to be here in this fine corner of the world?"
Mat
Mat is caught by that. He glances at Malin, then you, clearly not wanting to expose her secret without permission from both of you, but also not wanting to lie outright. "She's had some trouble with the family, too."
Malin turns to the oven with an unreadable expression, and pulls out a tray of fresh, fragrant biscuits.
"Malin's shared with me her past, and I vouch for her." I say, covering for Mat. "If she was a threat to the team, family or not, I wouldn't bring her on board."
Lindo makes the visible choice not to push further, and Nizoni is more interested in bacon than questioning your choices.
Malin
Lindo's omelette comes out to your satisfaction, and Malin drops two biscuits on the plate before grabbing it and bringing the food to Lindo herself. "Ham and cheese with a little bell pepper and a lot of mushrooms, courtesy of Jubilex." She actually winks at him. "Enjoy!" She scoops the rest of the biscuits onto a plate and looks around. "Who is Chef Jubilex cooking for next?"
When she turns to you, though, her eyes are wide, worried. "Am I doing okay, coach?" kinda worried.
I give Malin a curt nod. Nothing too much. I can't show her too much favor, she needs to seem strong. "Nizoni." I answer her question about who's next. "Niz would like a bacon and scrambled egg bagel, right?" I ask her this, knowing she'll say no. She's as capricious as can be, always trying something new, something different.
Nizoni shrugs. "Well, if that's all you've got... but if you want to make Nizzie happy, then you'll give me capers, cream-cheese, bacon and..." She pauses, clearly pondering the challenge. "...and... pickled herring." Even she doesn't look convinced.
Malin
Malin frowns, but says, "No herring. We've got smoked salmon." She gets to work without waiting for Niz's response.
Comments
I put down my fork. "Owned by a female troll?" I'm leaning forward, itching to know.
"Variska Alexsandrova, yes."
I push back from the table, "That's an ally of Marcus Wellby. Come on, we're going down there. No time to change, but you're putting on that armor I bought you, and taking the knife and gun." I'm heading to grab my vest and Area Predator. "The gun will be for show only. You're with me the whole time, I'll keep you safe. But I am rather sure I'll need your expertise on this." Then, I'm getting down there as fast as we can.
Malin slips into the armor and a pair of shoes, add the gun and knife to the belt you purchased, and puts that on, pulling her top down to cover it. She's ready in just a few minutes and waits for you to lead the way.
I'm heading straight down to the shop. I ask Malin to see if she can Variska on the line. I want to make sure she's okay. Then, I'll see about Samhain.
"There is an older troll woman, she's got a cut, but she's moving around, sweeping. Running the feeds back. 27 minutes, 43 seconds ago, two elves walked in, had a conversation that got heated, then left. 87 seconds later, they came back and busted the windows. One went in and hit Variska? Yes? Variska three times, but she did something and he took off. His friend took two more hits on the window, then they left. They were wearing masks like... I'll try to describe them later, but they sort of pixellated the faces. Lone Star responded, there's one officer still there."
You're about half a block from the shop when she finishes. You can see the broken windows, Variska's silhouette, one Lone Star cop with a motorcycle parked out front.
"If Variska's alright, Malin, can you track back those elf thugs?" I ask as I slow down a little. No reason for a run-in with Lone Star if I could better solve this hunting Samhain.
Malin tugs you toward a taqueria a few doors down from the shop. You know from experience not to eat there, but it's summer and the man that runs the place makes his aguas frescas from fresh fruit off the community gardens when they're in season. "Sorry, but I need to sit still for a minute if I'm going to track back and forward to find them."
I follow her, "Anything you can offload to me?" I realize the question is useless when I ask. "I can do some legwork." I'm itching to get out there.
"I mean literally a minute, or less. Get me something to drink... no booze." She sits down at a two-top table and goes spacey, but you can see she's still tracking the world around her, as well. When you get back with a lime-and-canteloupe agua fresca from Javier at the counter, Malin looks up. "Can I open a channel, send you a map? There are gaps, but I've got a good guess."
I nod, handing her the aqua fresca, "Do it. You can stay here, be my eyes and ears. Luis won't bother you."
Malin nods. "They entered the neighborhood from the river side, and left the same way, but by a different route. Here's the map."
She opens a channel, bypassing the usual call-and-response permission and security sequence, and you have a map that leads to the end of Rademacher Street, a pier that's currently used to cross the Detroit River to what used to be the Canada side, a few decades ago. The trail is nearly thirty minutes old now. What do you do?
She hacked through those protocols quickly, that's useful.
I pat her shoulder, then head off at a quick jog for Rademacher Street. I'm hoping to look for the trail, not ready to give up yet.
Malin also shoots you a decent picture of the two elves on their bikes. She was right, there's something obscuring their faces. The Samhain Boys "logo" that British Dave found is emblazoned on their jackets.
You make it to the pier, kicking in your wired reflexes and speed to move through foot and vehicle traffic at the speed of a motorcycle yourself. There's no one here on the Detroit side of the river, but there are a few cameras, which Malin can access once you give her the location. She quickly locates the right time stamp and shows you a feed of the two elves loading their bikes onto a flat river boat and hopping in, taking off toward Windsor on the other side. You made up some time, they left twenty-two minutes ago.
There are a few boats tied up and a couple old men fishing to pass the time. Certainly not fishing to eat—you've seen the crazy shit that's swimming in that river.
I come up to the old men, "I need a fast ride across the river. You guy see those fraggin' elf thugs earlier? They hurt one of my friends. I'll pay two hundred nuyen for a ride." I hold up a credstick.
One of the guys gives you a gap-toothed grin. Everybody calls him Tio Gordo (Uncle Fatty), because he's thin as a rail. In his creaky, high voice he says, "I'll getchoo across ese, and you don't need no NuYen for me to do it. Looked like bad news, those daisy-eaters."
I give him a thankful nod and move to hop aboard. No time to waste. "Gracias, Uncle."
He thumbs the starter button and the engine on his little runabout purrs to life. The boat, you realize, is in much better shape than it looks to be, and you're soon moving at quite a clip, wind in your face. Out on the water, the Zug Hum seems to take on a personality all of its own, and you definitely wouldn't want to take a tumble off the boat into the water.
A few minutes later, you're on the Windsor side of the river.
Why don't you give me an Investigate roll with a free +2 bonus from Malin's assistance, to pick up the trail. From the video, they clearly weren't too worried about covering their tracks, so you're just dealing with a static difficulty of Mediocre (0).
Investigating:
(Rolled: 4df+2. Total: 3. Rolls: +, 0, -, +)
I hop out of the boat, look back at the old man, "If you wait around for maybe half an hour, I'd appreciate it. But if something looks odd, go ahead and take off. Thanks again, Tio Gordo."
I'll start creeping up, quick and quiet on their trail.
Malin guides you, hopping from closed-circuit camera to warehouse security feed, until you reach the spot where she says the two gangers stopped. It's a low warehouse in a mostly disused area of similar buildings. The next lot over is basically rubble. Lots of cover all around here, you could probably stage half an army if the Samhain Boys don't have a hacker better than Malin to keep control of the surveillance.
No bikes outside, they must store them in the warehouse. What do you do?
I'm looking to get close enough to mark the place for Malin. No sense picking a fight I can't finish. I'll let Malin surveil the place for a couple days and gather intel. "Malin, this is the place. Drop a sprite here, watch them for a few days so we can get an idea on their numbers, any leader, where they're going, that kind of drek."
I'll double back to Uncle Fatty, then come back for Malin.
Tio Gordo is still there, grinning and chatting with an equally old man hanging out on this side of the river. He hops back into the boat when you arrive and starts the motor. "You find those putos, ese?"
When you head back to Variska's block, the Lone Star bike is gone, and Malin is no longer in the little restaurant. You see her through the open door of the talisman shop, talking with Variska herself. The holes in the window-glass have been covered with cardboard, for the moment.
I answer him solid, not a boastful, "Yes. And I know where they live now. That's not so good for them."
I head into the shop, looking around. "Variska, I'm so sorry this happened. Are you alright?"
Variska and Malin break off their conversation and turn to you. The troll has a bandage on her forehead, but otherwise seems mostly okay. When you ask, she laughs. "Should have seen it, Jubilex! I scared that mudak good. Just a glamour, but he wasn't ready for Baba Yaga, that's sure." She murmurs a few words and her visage changes. A long, sharp, hooked nose, pointy teeth, sunken eyes with a red glow, hair matted in dirt-caked dreadlocks. She laughs as she returns to her normal self.
I grin. "Baba fraggin' Yaga? Poor cutter." I give her another look, just to make sure she's alright. "Was it a shakedown? Were they after something in particular?"
Variska answers, almost spitting. "Protection, they said, but they didn't really seem that interested in getting the money. More looking for an excuse to bust stuff up, if you ask me."
Variska seems okay, physically. If you care to figure out more about her mental state, why don't you give me an Empathy roll (this is optional). She's a cagey old dame, so the difficulty is +2.
I am curious, but Empathy isn't my strong suit.
(Rolled: 4df. Total: -3. Rolls: 0, -, -, -)
"Alright." I say cautiously, not having anything else to go on. "If they come around here again, let them know you're friends with Marcus Wellby, alright? This drek won't stand." I look around. "Let me get your windows fixed, alright? I'll have a few guys come over. It's no trouble."
Variska nods. "You send the guys around, I'll pay them. I'm a businesswoman, not a charity case." She swallows. "And thank you."
Malin, looking uncomfortable to ask, nevertheless asks, "Jubilex, can you give us a minute? Variska was... helping me with something."
"Oh," I say, surprised, but not offended. "I'll step out. Need to let the team know there was trouble. I know Lindo will be pissed."
I step outside, send this all-message:
Marcus Wellby, A couple Samhain gangers roughed up Variska. I'm here with her, bumps and bruises and some broken glass, nothing more, really. Got their location though. We're watching them. Also, new hacker on board. You'll like here. Even you will like her Niz. -JubilexI get a pingback from Circe's old line. I forgot to take it off the all-message macro.
Only a few seconds for Lindo to respond on the all-message.
Not long after, Nizoni responds directly to you.
Shortly after that, Mat hits you up directly, too.
Shortly after that, Malin emerges from the store with a package wrapped in a furoshiki. She doesn't say anything other than, "Ready to go?"
Circe is silent, of course.
Return message:
Marcus Wellby, You'll like her, Lindo. Yes, we had a small adventure. Breakfast at my place, 8ish. All the bacon you can eat. -JubilexTo Malin, "Yes. We need to pick up some groceries for breakfast. I'm going to let you meet the rest of our crew."
"Meet the crew? That's great." She seems nervous, but keeps a brave face. "Do you want me to cook? I owe you for so much already."
I put a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry about meeting them, they're good people, like a family, really. A family that shoots bad guys and makes a bunch of nuyen doing it, but still." I walk with her for a bit. "You can help cook, sure."
Malin gives a shy grin and looks up at you from under her bangs. "Wiz. I make a mean omelette. Let's get groceries." She waits for you to lead the way, starts ticking off ingredients under her breath. "peppers, potatoes, onions, eggs of course, bacon..." She tails off into silence, clearly still making her list.
It's hard not to like Malin. I hope she's able to keep up. Losing her will hurt. That's why I'm going to push her. Hard. I don't want to lose anyone else. Plus, Mat would kill me if it happened. So, it won't.
We'll head to Mac's, of course. I want to check in with him, see if Samhain's given him any trouble. I worry about those assholes.
At Mac's, Diego gives you 'the nod,' as you walk in, his filed-off horns gleaming in the fluorescent lights of the market. "Yo, wiz-man. Who's Thumbelina, here?" The dwarf-slur is casual, not malice behind it.
"Malin," I say. "This is Diego. He run's Mac's. He doesn't want you to know this, but he's a pretty nice guy." Then to Diego, "Diego, my friend, this is Malin. She's a drek-hot hacker, so you should be really nice to her." I give him a I'm serious, even though we're joking grin.
Diego's face contorts into something probably intended to be a grin. "Ain't I nice to everyone, Jube?" He shakes his head as if dismayed at the implication.
Malin grabs a basket and quickly sets to work on the shopping list in her head, giving you time to chat with Diego, if you want.
I let Malin move down an aisle, then sidle up to the counter. "Diego... hey, any thugs been around lately? Variska had some trouble tonight."
Diego drops the gruff pretense for just a moment, showing worry as he asks, "Is she hurt?" Concern is replaced by anger in a split second, though. "I've seen some new gang types loitering around, but no trouble here, yet. I'll keep an eye out. You let me know if a couple fists are needed anywhere." He holds up the rather impressive fists as he says that.
"She got a few bumps and bruises, but she gave them a helluva fright." I assure him. As to his offer of help, "I'll keep it in mind, the help, I mean. I've got a line on where they might be holed up. Watching them for a bit, see if they're just punks or a legit gang. If you need any help, you let me know, alright?"
The troll gives you a look. "You know you don't have to handle this on your own, Jubilex. The whole fraggin' barrio will stand with you, if it comes to it. Los Lobos, too, I'm sure. We'd rather fight with you than mourn you because you felt like you had to be a hero."
Mourn me? Like I mourn Circe. That feels weird.
I hold a breath, a bit of emotion washing over me. Nod. "Alright, Diego. You're right. I'm no hero, man. Not cutting you out. Just want to know how big a bite we're taking out before we do. If they escalate, I'll call in the big guns, which is you and Los Lobos." I shake that odd feeling in my gut for a moment, "Thanks."
Diego nods, satisfied with what he's already said. When you turn to check on Malin, she's holding up two red peppers, comparing them intensely. Finally, she chooses one and puts it in the basket.
When she notices you noticing, she grins again. "I should ask what you already have, as far as staples. How are you on eggs? Do you have any self-rising flour? I could make biscuits."
I pull up my fridge contents on my pocket secretary and share it with her, "There you go. All my dirty secrets. And if you give me trouble about the peeps I have in the freezer, I will be very upset with that violation of trust."
Malin gives you a startled look. "You have people in the freezer?" She's absolutely sincere.
Wow. She's serious. She is a true innocent, ignorant of the temptation of the peep.
"Yes," I try to answer without breaking character. "Otherwise, they would smell." Then, I crack a smile.
She's clearly still not sure what a "peep" is, but she reads your smile correctly and gives a slightly embarrassed shrug and tilt of the head before returning it. She scans your fridge list and picks up a few more things before presenting the basket for your inspection. Aside from having not nearly enough bacon in it, everything looks just about right, if a little more complicated than you'd have picked out on your own.
If she wants to impress, I'll give her a shot. I grab more bacon, then check out. We'll chat on the walk back to the flat. "What kind of music are you into? Ever go clubbing?"
"Not much in the way of clubs in the Cypress Hills, but of course I could listen to all the music I wanted. I'm kind of all over the place. I like bits and pieces of everything." She pauses, then continues as if she's letting you in on a secret. "My friend Sierra and I used to dance around to NuSka in our PJs, when we had sleepovers."
I chuckle. That's an amusing image. "Circe and I used to run around to dive bars chasing garage bands and NuSka. Ever listened to Treen Stefani before she went big?" That's my one and only rising star story, I hope she's heard of the girl. Great-granddaughter of a ska star from the turn of the century.
"Wasn't she always big?" She makes a face. "Kinda poppy and obvious, now at least."
That gets an incredulous look. "No. She worked dive bars in the PRD for a couple years. Circe said she was just paying dues until the recording corp decided to push her music. And yeah, she was young when she was here. Couldn't even drink in the bars she was playing. Oh hey, how old are you?"
Malin blinks. "I'm twenty-four." Dwarves do age slower, but she still acts young for her age. "It's cool that you saw her when she was still cool." A quick glance away, then, "What kind of music do you like? Now."
Still cool? She's not cool now? Drek.
"I like electro, classic salsa, underground hip hop, a mix. If I can dance to it, that's a real plus." I answer as honestly as I can.
"Do you think maybe we... you, me, Jessi, maybe Uncle Mat if we can convince him... maybe we could go dancing sometime? I'd like to learn how to salsa." You're back to the door to your stairwell now. The theater's playing porn again tonight, apparently. The Pizza Troll, He Delivers, to be precise.
"Sounds wiz, Malin." I look up at the marquis, shake my head, then head to the door to the stairs, hold it open for her. Habit.
As we're tromping up the stairs, I say to her back, "Going to a club would be great. I can teach you to salsa here, if you want."
As you walk up the stairs, you can't help but notice that Malin's diminuitive backside is nevertheless quite finely formed. The casual pants she's wearing flare out loose in the legs, but fit rather tightly at the top.
Without turning around, Malin says, "That would be wiz!" She does her best to stifle it, but you can clearly hear a muffled yawn just as you get up to the landing.
"Not tonight, though." I remark idly as I head to the door, letting the iris sensor pick me up. "Early night. Lack of sleep causes mistakes." I head in, taking groceries to the fridge, putting things away. "Plus, we have to get up early to cook. I look forward to your biscuits, Malin." I grin when I say it.
From there, it's a fairly straight path to bedtime. When your alarm goes off, you roll out of bed to work out and hear that Malin's already moving around. You poke your head out to see that she's cleared a small area in the living room and is in a loose white silk tunic and pants going through the flowing motions of qi gong forms. Not one of the martial practices, but the Eight Silken Movements, meant to improve and promote physical and mental well-being. She is focused and facing away from you, and you assume she's got some sort of meditative music playing in her head, since her movements are precisely if fluidly timed.
I'll watch for a bit, to see how smooth she is, what our starting point will be. It's interesting. Peaceful. Like a dance. She's stocky, being a dwarf, but pretty. I bet she'll break some tiny hearts.
After a few minutes, I'll head back to my room and throw on some workout clothes and get to my morning routine. Glad I didn't stay up last night. Think I'll head out for a jog, at the ass-crack of the morning. At least I might see the sun rise, which is cool.
Malin is still going through her forms as you leave for your jog. She gives you a wave, but doesn't break her exercise. She clearly has developed flexibility, but little power. She is leaner than most dwarves and her movements have the certainty of long practice and muscle memory, but the basics are there. She moves around her center of gravity with confidence and awareness. You won't be starting from square zero.
Once outside and moving, the air is still blessedly almost-cool this early. Although the neigborhood never completely sleeps (no settled place in the Wireless World really does), the few people you see at this hour are mostly drunks, addicts, and late-night partiers staggering home. As you pass Mac's (open), Diego is already opening boxes of fresh produce. You have to wonder if he's got one of those implants that reduces the need to sleep, which makes you wonder where and how he got it.
The Hum is light today, almost plaintive, like the distant midnight howl of a very, very large wolf baying at the moon.
Where are you when you catch the rising sun, Jubilex?
I'm jogging down Jefferson, which is how I timed it, hoping the empty lots would give me a good view of the rising sun. It's a wonderful experience, seeing it rise above the horizon. Special and beautiful. I'm no shaman, but I can see the magic in the sun bringing dawn to the world.
One of those rare moments when it was just you and Lindo, staking out what was supposed to be a blood-magic kidnapping ring, he waxed a little poetical about the power of what he called "liminal times," threshold moments like sunrise and sunset, and on a larger scale equinoxes and solstices. "At sunrise, the day is new, not yet ruined, and the power of a spell cast then will grow along with the sun, if you do it right."
This is one of those days when you feel it, too, apparently. At this angle, the rays seem to illuminate the beautiful touches, the occasional tree or windowsill flowerbox, rather than yesterday's trash. You know there's pollution in the air, but some magic seems to filter it out before it reaches your lungs.
When was the last time you felt this good? In the real world, I mean, not in some programmed BTL VR dream.
I was on vacay in Qatar. It was autumn there, if a place that hot has a real Autumn, but that's what the smoking hot attendant told me. I had a penthouse room at one of the tallest hotels in the world. I blew thousands of nuyen every night, casinos, big shows, the best food. I mean really, the best food I've ever had. It was amazing.
There was a moment, watching the sun set from my balcony, a bottle of merlot sitting on the rail, it was the most relaxed I've ever been. Just me. No responsibilities, nothing to escape from. Circe was alive, and happy. I wasn't mixed up with Jessi. My job was aces. It was perfect.
This morning, this jog, bring back that moment. A little winded from the jog so far, you stand for a moment to admire the rising sun, filling your lungs with oxygen, then turn back towards the apartment.
A few blocks from home, you see the familiar sight of Circe turning the corner away from you, toward that little coffee-shop/dry cleaners with no sign that everyone just calls "Vaso's". Just the back of his head, of course, but the gait, the clothes, the haircut—all unmistakable.
Wait, what?
I pull short for a second, shocked. No, no I can't let this slip through my fingers. "Circe!" I'll chase after him.
Once your brain catches up with your eyes, you kick in your wired speed and backtrack around the Post St. corner within a few seconds. No one in sight except Vaso herself, half a block up, sweeping off the sidewalk in front of her place.
What do you do?
I buried Circe. I'm not going to make a fool out of myself asking Vaso if she's seen him. I close my eyes, stop walking, try to center myself. Exhale.
I miss you, Circe.
One more loud breath, then I pick back up into a jog, head for home. Sure, I'm looking for him, but I'm not going to look like an idiot chasing ghosts.
No more flashes, no sightings, but there's a corner of your brain that is simply convinced that you saw what you think you saw, and it continues to haunt you for a bit.
When you return to the apartment, Malin is showered, dressed, and already working on setting up her mise en place for breakfast. She's left bacon to you, but eggs are already cracked, ingredients chopped into equal-sized bits, and she's got flour, heavy cream, and a touch of salty queso fresco from the bodega laid out for her biscuits, ready to mix up and drop onto a baking sheet that has a spray can of nonstick spray next to it.
She takes you in, widens her eyes at something she sees, but makes no comment other than, "Good run?"
I take in the spread she's laid out. "Nice work, Malin. I think I'm keeping you here for a bit, yeah?" I smirk. Then, I answer, "The run was good, very good. Best time of the day, before it gets too hot, you know? I'll be in the shower."
I'll head for the shower, then dress in a loose cotton shirt and a comfy pair of chinos, no shoes.
You pad back in to the kitchen and start frying up bacon (always a favorite). Malin's clearly done with her prep, waiting to mix up her quick biscuit dough and drop it once people start arriving.
"So, is this a Bloody Mary kind of breakfast? Just asking." She looks as if she wants to take the question back as soon as she asks it.
That gets raised eyebrows, "Feeling nervous meeting the team, chica?"
Malin shrugs. "Of course, but that wasn't why I asked. Sometimes people have a Bloody Mary or mimosa or whatever when they get together for breakfast, is all. Just didn't know if I should whip up some mix or squeeze orange juice or whatever." She seems worried that you might think she's a lush or something.
"It's alright, Malin." I assure her, a hand up. "I know Mat would enjoy it. I wouldn't mind it, either. Whip and squeeze away, please. I have bacon to master." I head over to the little pantry and get my apron, because it makes me grin when I wear the apron. Maybe I'm showing off.
I'll tackle he pieces of the meal she hasn't already tackled with her fervor. I think a skillet of bacon is simple, but some pepper and a dash of chilies to give it some kick will be nice. Not too much, just enough for flavor.
Mat is the first to arrive, at a few minutes before 8. He gives Malin a hug and they chat about your day yesterday as he makes himself a bloody mary. Taking a sip, he raises an eyebrow. "Malin, is that Dirty Jerzy's mix recipe? Tastes just like it..."
Malin gives him a smirk. "Yes. I obsessed over reverse engineering it for two years after I hit drinking age. That bloody mary was the first alcoholic drink I purchased legally." She mixes her biscuit dough and drops it on a greased baking sheet a spoonful at a time, then slips the sheet into the oven.
I'm at the skillet, turning the bacon when Mat comes in. I'm on my second batch, "Grab some bacon, Mat. I bought an obscene amount of it." I look over at Malin, "What's special about this bloody mary mix?"
Malin pours a bit of vodka over ice cubes and adds her mix from the pitcher. She squeezes a lime into the glass, adds a stick of celery, and hands the glass to you. "Try it and see." Mat looks at you as you take the glass, then grabs a piece of bacon and starts munching.
I take the glass and have a sip. It isn't a wine tasting, so I don't swish it in my mouth, but I do let myself taste it.
It's mostly what you'd expect. Tomato juice, bite from horseradish, spice from black pepper and hot sauce, a little Worcestershire sauce. There's something unusual going on, though. Two somethings, actually. One of them is a bright tanginess that really brings everything into focus, and the other is some sort of savory deep note that acts like the bass line under a dance song, tying the whole drink together. All in all, it's a damned good bloody mary, but you have no idea what the secret is.
After letting it sit and drinking it down, I smack my lips a couple times. "That was... pretty amazing. I can see why you're want to figure it out, Malin." I take another drink, then head back to the bacon. "Wow. That's really interesting. Good interesting."
I spice this skillet of bacon, then ask, "Malin, how long have you been doing qi gong ?" I grin over at Mat, "Did you teach her, Mat?"
"The secret's pickle juice and fish sauce, by the way... I've been doing qi gong since I was young. I used to be pretty hyperactive when I was younger, and mother put me into some classes because one of her friends suggested it." She shrugs one shoulder. "It helped, and I kept going."
Mat returns your grin. "Qi gong, me? I'm more a direct-application-of-force kind of person. That stuff's a little too pretty for me."
With a bit of flourish, I spatula under a few strips of bacon and flip them up, then catch them again in the skillet. "Aw, c'mon, Mat. Nothing is too pretty for you." I grin over at him, teasing a bit. I take a third drink of the bloody mary. Not getting drunk, but a hint of a buzz seems like a good idea after the Circe not-sighting.
Nizoni walks into the kitchen. "You should really lock the window by the fire escape. Okay, it was locked. You should really have better locks on your windows. Not that it would matter to me, but still." She grabs a piece of bacon, eyes the pitcher of bloody mary mix, and says, "Ooh, bloodies! Who are you?" That last bit addressed to Malin, of course.
"Our new hacker in training." I answer as Nizoni munches on the bacon. I turn to Malin, "Malin, this is Nizoni, our infiltration expert. Niz, this is Malin. She's one of Mat's kin, and a wiz hacker. This is her first foray into running the shadows, but, she has a world of potential. And... she made the biscuits. As well as the bloodies."
I reach over for my pocket secretary and add a reminder to buy new window locks.
Nizoni, still chewing, nods to Malin and accepts a bloody mary. "Jubilex told me I had to like you." She sips on the bloody mary, raises an eyebrow. "Okay, decent start." Nizoni perches on a chair, legs drawn up under her.
Just about the time the first batch of biscuits come out of the oven, Lindo rings the bell.
I head over to the door to answer it. I physically open the door, even though I don't need to do that. "Welcome, welcome, Lindo. Come in."
Lindo nods to you and says, in that rich basso, "Good morning to you." He seems unusually chipper today. He takes off his tophat and sets it aside with his cane (Yes, even at eight in the A-fragging-M, he has them.), then makes his way to the kitchen, spying the setup. He doesn't ask for a bloody mary. "You must be Malin. Jubilex didn't say you were such a lovely young lady."
Malin gives a shy smile, showing a single dimple. (Left side.)
I'll let Malin speak for herself on that one. Once they've greeted each other, I ask, "Lindo, you seem especially up-beat this morning. How's tricks?"
Lindo gives you a very atypical grin. "I'm going to be a great-grandfather soon, Jubilex. Talked to my grand-daughter last night. And..." He pauses for effect. "Her husband got a job. Finally."
I raise a bloody mary to that, "That's great, old man! Great-grandfather and still running the shadows? That's wiz. To Lindo the Eternal badass shaman."
Lindo quirks a smile and sweeps a bow. "Oui. My seed is strong, even unto the third generation." He swipes a piece of bacon off the platter. (Does no one in your crew have manners?) and takes a bite. "Nice! A little extra oomph, there." Lindo sits in one of the kitchen chairs, back erect, legs slightly apart, and plants his hands on his knees. "So, while someone is making me a ham and cheese omelette with a little bell pepper and a lot of mushrooms, why don't you tell me why meeting our new hacker candidate was worth breakfast, Jubilex? Aside from being family." As cheerful as he is, his look to you is like a hawk eyeing a pigeon.
Is it bad manners to eat the food I offered? Nah, this is how a tight crew works.
I move over to the eggs, ham and cheese and start working on the omelette. "Malin's got a drekload of potential. And she's family. She's never run the shadows. So, I'm bringing her on, while training her. I'll need your help." I look to Nizaoni, "All of you. Malin can hack like nobody we've worked with, so I'm confident this will make the team more competitive."
Lindo gives Mat a searching look. "Thought you and your family didn't get along, Mat. How did Malin come to be here in this fine corner of the world?"
Mat is caught by that. He glances at Malin, then you, clearly not wanting to expose her secret without permission from both of you, but also not wanting to lie outright. "She's had some trouble with the family, too."
Malin turns to the oven with an unreadable expression, and pulls out a tray of fresh, fragrant biscuits.
"Malin's shared with me her past, and I vouch for her." I say, covering for Mat. "If she was a threat to the team, family or not, I wouldn't bring her on board."
Lindo makes the visible choice not to push further, and Nizoni is more interested in bacon than questioning your choices.
Lindo's omelette comes out to your satisfaction, and Malin drops two biscuits on the plate before grabbing it and bringing the food to Lindo herself. "Ham and cheese with a little bell pepper and a lot of mushrooms, courtesy of Jubilex." She actually winks at him. "Enjoy!" She scoops the rest of the biscuits onto a plate and looks around. "Who is Chef Jubilex cooking for next?"
When she turns to you, though, her eyes are wide, worried. "Am I doing okay, coach?" kinda worried.
I give Malin a curt nod. Nothing too much. I can't show her too much favor, she needs to seem strong. "Nizoni." I answer her question about who's next. "Niz would like a bacon and scrambled egg bagel, right?" I ask her this, knowing she'll say no. She's as capricious as can be, always trying something new, something different.
Nizoni shrugs. "Well, if that's all you've got... but if you want to make Nizzie happy, then you'll give me capers, cream-cheese, bacon and..." She pauses, clearly pondering the challenge. "...and... pickled herring." Even she doesn't look convinced.
Malin frowns, but says, "No herring. We've got smoked salmon." She gets to work without waiting for Niz's response.