When Buzz and Flash showed up in the conference room at Danger Patrol's Mercury HQ, they were slightly surprised to find Johnny and Doctor Cagliostro absent.

"No, this briefing is just for you two," said Inskipp, the bureau chief (well, the bureau chief local to Mercury, anyway). "Cagliostro and Gonsalvez have been reassigned on something else. But we would like you two to work together on something else again... something related to the Flame Witch-- who hasn't woken up yet, by the way. It-- Well, first, shall I presume you're willing to work as partners...?" Inskipp smiles tight little smile-- he expects them both to say yes, so he feels he's simply being cute, acting as if they have much choice in the matter-- he's asking permission post-ironically.

"As long as he's not trying to pilot, I'm perfectly happy to let him handle the apprehensions."

Flash shot Buzz a mischievous smirk, "Of course I'll be letting you do the piloting, Corey", he said with an overly dramatic eye roll, "You obviously need as much practise as you can get.

Did you see the mess she made of that SPORT out in the open surface terrain, sir?" he commented to Inskipp.
"And sure, I can take the cadet under my wing for a a while longer.  She's still a bit green", he said, smirking at his pun, "but she'll learn with some experience, and expert advice".

Slumping into a chair, and swinging his feet up onto the table, Flash threw Corey a wink, "Take a seat, rookie"

Inskipp rolls his eyes heavenward briefly. "Glad to hear you're willing to do your jobs as assigned," he says. "I want you to fly to Neptune. You two don't have clearance to hear all the reasons why we think this, but we not only very extremely certain that the Flame Witch was being funded by some outside source, we have reason to believe that the source of that funding might be... the Stygian Adepts.

Wow, that's not good. As every Danger Patrol agent knows, the Stygian Adepts are an evil cult from the 5th Dimension who worship entropy. They’re the hooded dudes (made out of living shadow?) with wicked curved daggers—- they practice dreadful sacrifices and creepy dark magic and it's widely believed their base is somewhere on Pluto, though no one knows for sure.

"Reports from a Danger Patrol operative on Neptune suggest that the Stygian Adepts are up to something there. We want you to go check it out-- find out what's going on, foil and/or thwart whatever it is that you find out is going on, and then report back to us. In particular, try to find out if the Stygian Adepts had a connection to what the Flame Witch was doing, and what it was, and why, and... you get the idea. Some of the Danger Patrol top brass on Mars suspect that there's some much bigger, much worse plot going on that the Flame Witch was just the tiniest hint of." He sighs. "Of course, certain other members of the top brass suspect that it's not the Stygian Adepts at all, but that it's all some kind of conspiracy of the Crimson Republic... but you know those kind of people-- they see Grand Commander Zukov behind every pillar and post."

Inskipp had been pacing around, but now he stops. "Any questions? Have I lost you? Need anything explained?"

"Can I requisition my own vehicles this time?  I need more flexibility.  At least one drop shuttle.  At least one surface roller.  I appreciate an adaptable ship, but only as part of a larger fleet.  Maybe something the SPORT can dock inside?  That'd be a good start."

"Mmm... I'm not sure that's unreasonable... Send me a private requisition form, and I'll see what I can do," says Inskipp. "Other questions, Agent Corey? Agent Bang?"

"I could do with a one of those spanky new rocket packs, sir.
I'll send a request through for it, along with some ham and salad sandwiches", Flash replied, "on rye, please, with honey mustard.  But not to thick, you know, just a smooth slide of the stuff ... on the top slice of bread too, cos otherwise it dough's up the bottom of the sandwich".

Buzz leans forward, grabs two pieces of paper off Inskipp's desk, leans back, leans in again to grab two pens, hands a pen and paper to Flash, and starts scribbling her own list.  She pauses to give a brief thumbs up to Inskipp.

Writing again, she mutters, "Sandwiches.  Good catch."

Inskipp frowns slightly. "...Of course you want a replacement rocketpack... It might take a little time, though... since you're being reassigned so far out in the system... Well, maybe they'll have a rocketpack there that no one's using..."

He does a little shrug. "Well, anything else, agents...?"

Flash was inclined to dance on his superior's last nerve a little longer with some other inane comment ... but his player thought better of it, so:

"Not for me, sir.
Ready to Rock and Roll whenever Buzz is ready to buzz"

Buzz scribbled out the last of her wish list, dried Venusian mango strips to go with the sandwiches, dropped her list on the desk and stood up. "Thanks, boss.  Ping me when it's in the hanger.  I'm going to head down to the target range for some practice."

A Danger Patrol ship is soon made ready for the two agents, and they take off for Neptune.

(For +1 forward, tell how each of you spend your time on the trip.)

While the ship is in auto-pilot on the long stretches between the orbits, Buzz busies herself with maintenance checks.  She goes through all the ship's system and combs through the diagnostic reports.  She inspects the interior and exterior of the SPORT in the shuttle bay.  She reads the manual on the Planetary Utility Transport Zipper (PUTZ), a speedy little contraption that could only seat two.  If Buzz and Flash made any arrests, they'd have to radio for the Danger Patrol prisoner transports.

In moments of downtime, she slurps up protein paste while screaming at her favorite Titanian wrestlers beating the snot out of each other.  "C'mon ref!  That wasn't a foul!  Why'd you break up the fight?!  It was just getting good!"

Flash didn’t get so productive.
He was also watching the Titanian Wrestling, as he casually pruned the slow-growing scales from his elbows and armpits with a small pair of trezzers he lifted from Doc C’s infirmary when nobody was watching.
He knew, was even friends with, several of the wrestlers ... though none fighting in this broadcast.

As he aimlessly flicked peeled scales into the trash compactor, he chortled at the way Buzz got so personally involved.

When he got bored with that, he took a nap

Following orders, Buzz and Flash arrive at Triton, the largest moon of Neptune, where they are met by a mustachioed fellow representing the Danger Patrol's interests there named Tarrant.

"Glad to see you, what?" says Tarrant. "Shall we get right down to business? Agent Corey, I'm eager to show you some of the craft you requested..."

Buzz nods and is eager to see the devices.  She also keeps her eyes peeled for base details, layout, personnel, etc.

... and while they walked, “So what can you tell us about the Stigian Problem you’ve identified, Sir?” Flash asked the man.

"Shhhh!" shushes Tarrant. "Hush-hush, don't you know. I'll feel much better if you talk to the local man down below about that sort of rot." He unlocked a door, and it turned out to be... another hangar bay. "At least for now, I can show you this! Let's go on board..."

"This" turned out to be a large spacecraft-- bigger than the one they'd arrived in, anyway-- sleek and silver and up-to-date.

"This is the Flying Fish," said Tarrant, showing them around. "But let me show you to Storage Bay 1..."

In the Flying Fish's Storage Bay 1 were two more craft-- a sort of fighter craft, and a very armored vehicle.

"The one on the left is the Moray, built for speed. The one on the right is the Lionfish, more of a tank of a thing... Like 'em? Inskipp from Mercury certainly thought you would... The Lionfish, especially, is very well-armed, for its size... Not quite on the level of the Flying Fish itself, but there's more room for big weapons in the bigger craft, after all..."

(The Flying Fish is about the same volume as four or five Millennium Falcons stacked on top of each other-- although it's much longer than that makes it sound, because it's built like a seal, not like a... discus.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:16, Mon 15 June 2020.

Buzz smiles with pure glee.  She claps Tarrant on the back.  "Ya done good, boss.  Ya done real good."  She's nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Excellent. The Flying Fish is of course equipped with plenty of diving suits, too, although you won't need them to get to your next destination. Then if you have no further needs nor questions, I'll show you to the bridge, and then I'll disembark, and you can get underway to Cousteau City-- the coordinates of which are pre-loaded into the Flying Fish's computer-- where you'll meet with the Danger Patrol's local representative. I've only been here on Triton for a couple of years, m'self. The local administrator can fill you in much better than I on the rum goings-on. So... will there be anything else...?"

Buzz is too enchanted to reply, slowing circling the ship, ogling it.

"Ok, then", Flash replied to the man.

And climbing aboard the ship, he made his way towards the cockpit, and the pilot's seat.

"Farewell, then!" says Tarrant, and he leaves the Flying Fish.

The hangar bay is cleared, the roof opens (causing unpleasant memories of the last time Buzz and Flash were in such a situation), and the Flying Fish takes off into space again... This time, headed straight for Neptune.

The atmosphere is entered, and there's a sparkling view of the ocean below.

In fact, there's nothing but ocean.

No alarms are going off, but the Flying Fish is--

--Oh. Okay. Underwater now. Well that figures.

The Flying Fish lives up to its name and proceeds through the water like a seal or I guess a flying fish or anything else that would fit the "swims really good" simile, soon approaching a really huge globe-- dark and opaque in the bottom half, clear on top, showing a modern city.

The Flying Fish heads straight for that boundary line of light and dark, and docks.

You're free to disembark... You've apparently arrived at Cousteau City...

"The autopilot mechanism on that ship is really pushy," mutters Buzz as she disembarks and makes sure to lock up the ship behind her after Flash is off.

"Now what's the name of the guy we're supposed to be meeting"

She looks around for helpful signs or greeters or anything else that might be useful.

Buzz and Flash notice that most of the people in the crowd are of two types of people:
1. Local humans who live on (under?) Neptune, and
2. Actual local Neptunians who were here before the humans ever got here.

(For 1 xp:
--one of you tell me what's the one unusual (and noticeable) difference between local humans and regular humans.
--one of you describe what the native Neptunians are like.)

Buzz takes in the passersby.  No stranger to various spaceports, she's worked hard to pick out subtle differences that seem to delineate origins or long exposure to various environments.

The Neptunian humans, for instance, seem to have far paler and more translucent skin than Earth humans.  Even in those of African decent, she can spot the tell-tale branching of veins beneath the dermis.  They also seem to have a vivid yellow cast to their scleras, the whites of the eyes.  Buzz is guessing it's a function of the local water, but she wouldn't put credits on it.

She shares her observations quietly with Flash.

"Yarrislav," Flash answered Corey almost casually, as they disembarked and began to take in the surrounding city.  "At least, that is what the data base says is the name of the local Administrator.
Tarrant suggested that is who we should find ... the local Administrator".


As the two agents took in their initial views of the Neptunian station, Flash heard Corey commenting on the variance in the human subculture here.

Rather, Flash's attention was drawn to the Native Nepturians: and there was no confusing them with humans ... or even humanoids.
Evolved from native octopodian origins, their hydrostatic forms mobile via a multitude of strong, suckered arms that reached out in many directions at once.

Each was a neon-explosive experience for the visual senses:  native Neptunian speech being a solely visual language created by the oscillating colours, patterns and shapes across their epidermal surfaces.
And just as they couldn't speak the audial human languages, humans couldn't speak/display native Neptunian (although a thriving scientific community was working on neurally linked chameleon suits that might, one day, allow for the effect).
Each race could see/hear the other, and had the ability to, though the perseverance of studying any language, learn to understand the other.

And because Cousteau City had been designed to accomodate both races, it was a world of mezzanines, platforms and catwalk structures ... a true three dimensional space.    In which humans travelled the structures as best they could, while the pliable, slithering forms of the octopod Neptunian moved freely and easily throughout the city using the walls, infrastructure and frameworks.


Using out his Danger Patrol Communicator, he synched its Global Positioner with the cities ubiquitous municipal guidance mechanisms, and called up a map that would lead he and Corey to the Danger Patrol Administrators office.

(I'm perfectly satisfied, give yourselves each 1 xp)

The local Danger Patrol headquarters turns out to be built like a medieval castle in structure, albeit one with a lot of towers and catwalks connecting the towers.

It's hard (if one is a newcomer) not to look up as one moves through the city. The top half of the air-filled globe that is Cousteau City is somewhat clear, and one can vaguely make out somewhat-larger-than-whale-sized creatures swimming, silhouetted as they come between the top of the globe and the oh-so-distant sun. Their shadows pass over the crowd (who mostly ignore them) like the shadows of clouds.

Yarrislav turns out to be one of those pale-to-the-point-of-almost-translucent-skinned humans who've lived on (under?) Neptune for some time. He's got long auburn hair and his voice is a beautiful high tenor, but the jaw and shoulders and general build suggest maybe Tennant wasn't wrong to call him "our local man."

Yarrislav is quiet and serious and very formal, but not to the point of being cold. Indeed, he seems quite concerned about the duo's well-being. "It would be understandable if your trip had made you feel impatience. I do not know how much Officer Inskipp of Mercury told you. Do you have any questions? Is there anyplace in particular you would like me to start?"

"Anything you can provide on the connection between the Flame Witch and here would be handy.  Also, the particulars of the concerns on Neptune would be useful, too."  Buzz finds a seat and puts her feet up, boots and all, on the seat next to it.  "I'm a big picture kind of person."

"She really is, sir", Flash said, helping himself to another seat.
"My main concern, sir, is where I can get a good Ultaran Curry nearby?"

Yarrislav grows surprisingly intense. "For an Ultaran Curry, the Solar Guide will send you to that farce Morolo's. 'Three out of three stars--' it's a lie! The Solar Guide is edited by butchers and thieves! They'll print anything for a free lunch and a kickback! No, you go and take Granba Street off to the right. When you get to the globe wall, you make a left. Look for a little brasserie on Staging Street called Nadia's." He nods sagely as if he has just explained the secret of life to you.

Yarrislav grows more calm. "As for the concerns on Neptune as far as the Danger Patrol is concerned, right now, there are four things.

1. The agent who was reporting to me about the Stygian Adepts is very deeply undercover. He's working down in the undercity in the physical plant. He's stopped sending reports. I've sent people to check on him, and he's still alive and working undercover, so I think they're just watching him too closely for him to send any more messages. Please, don't try to contact him unless you're prepared to do so without blowing his cover.

2. An agent whom I thought had nothing to do with the current troubles has disappeared. She was investigating a feud between two groups of native Neptunians...

3. The ambassador from the Crimson Republic is behaving perfectly normally... except that he's also spending money like he just won several huge bets, and I have no explanation for why he's so flush with cash for his personal use. It's suspicious, and it bothers me. It doesn't bother me nearly as much as it bothers certain Danger Patrol higher-ups on Mars, though. They're frantic about anything to do with the CR.

4. Finally, someone's been killing pickpockets in the city. The third one showed up dead yesterday. They're all killed on the street... I'm not sure what to make of it, but I don't like it.

Which would you most like me to focus on telling you more about right now?"

"I think the pickpockets first.  I want to know how that ties in.  Maybe after, we'll get to your undercover mechanic.  At least he's not dead yet."  She nods to Flash.  "But that's just me.  Flash has been on this case longer than me, so maybe something else seems more relavent."

Flash watched on with bemused surprise, as the little man’s moustache literally bristled with indignation over his curry concerns.
It took him a few moments longer to respond, once the ‘lesson had been given’, before he said, “Right you are, sir.
And thank you”.  After all, the man obviously knew his curry.

When Corey spoke, Flash glanced her way, and simply nodded in acknowledgement.

"Well that's just it, I'm not sure how it ties in. I have no proof that it ties in, at all... About the closest thing to a connection that I've got is that the second death happened barely half a block from the building containing the Crimson Republic ambassador's office. But that's right in the middle of downtown, so one could say that it could be connected to all kinds of other things..."

Buzz just blinks at him.  "And the undercover agent?"

"Ah. Yes. Well. ...It seems that the Stygian Adepts were-- how much they are still pushing for it at the present time, I can't say, since my reports have stopped-- recruiting for new members in the maintenance workers' union. These workers have the not-particularly-glamorous but very important jobs of keeping the air and water filtration systems working properly, and they also help maintain the forcefields that strengthen the globe around the city, although of course a lot of that is also under the aegis of the Security officers. Apparently they were silently recruiting people, presumably with the goal of taking over the union entirely, and holding secret meetings now and then where they would, you know, do whatever entry-level Stygian Adept members do. Involved a lot of chanting, as I understand it. No actual blood sacrifices, at least not while I was still getting reports regularly. Hardly any black magic or whatever their senior members might get up to..."

Flash sat quietly, taking it all in.

Buzz turned to Flash.  "So the next step is Nadia's, right?  Where we hash out a plan over the good curry?"

Flash perked up at that suggestion.
"Sir, can we know the identity of your undercover agent?" he asked.

Yarrislav sighs. "I... would rather not tell you unless you plan to intervene. If you do plan to intervene, then of course I will tell you... but I'd prefer to know your plan first..."

"Like I said, curry.  That and some decent tea will allow us to formulate a plan.  Perfectly happy to run it by you before we start."  She stands up to leave.

Yarrislav relaxes. "All right, that's fine. I look forward to your next visit."
This message was last updated by the player at 14:39, Mon 29 June 2020.

“Ok,” Flash said, thinking ‘Not my fault then, if the borgoisse hits the proverbial and s/he gets shot in the head’.
He stood to leave with Corey, saying “See you then, sir”.

With that, he followed Buzz out of the facility.

Granba Street is right outside the front entrance of the city's Danger Patrol headquarters. It isn't long before the agents are walking down Staging Street.

It's a noticeably dirtier and less-well-lit street than was Granba Street, packed with tattoo parlors, arcades, and seedy-looking gymnasiums...
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:24, Tue 30 June 2020.

Buzz keeps an eye out for Nadia's and the other eye on the tattoo parlors.  Maybe their work could be a clue to cult associations or other ne'er-do-wells.

Flash was more interested in the dodgy gym's that littered the grotto.
But soon enough they spied Nadia's, and by that time, Flash was starvulating.

Once inside, and (at least) a (very large) order placed, he turned to Corey.
"Well, Yarrislav proved pretty damned unhelpful, eh.
The only lead we have here is" cue very unrealistic impression of Yarrislav, "The agent who was reporting to me about the Stygian Adepts is very deeply undercover, and I... would rather not tell you their identity.
HOW mossbertingly unhelpful is that?!?

Other than that, all we know is that the Stygian's were apparently recruiting from the union down there"
It was almost like the two were in some kind of story or roleplaying game, and the author wanted them to join the union and try to get recruited.
"I can't see any option but join the union, and try to get recruited.

Or, maybe, just start grabbing random union members, and hoping that hitting them reveals something interesting".
Flash was, as Corey could tell, a little peeved, and suspicious, of their recent interaction with Yarrislav.

"Then maybe we should keep our voices down and deal with the pickpocket killer?"  Buzz was downing iced chai like it was going out of style.  "Let's assume that his gut sense is right, that it's connected somehow.  We track that down, figure it out.  Worse case?  We've wasted a bit of time and found a murderer.  And if that's true, then the people keeping an eye on us think we've got nothing to do with maintenance."

Inside, Nadia's decor is cheap and old.

It's certainly not the cleanest restaurant either of the two agents has ever been in.

The waitress seems bored and uninterested in them and their order, though she takes it.

When the food arrives, however, the plating is pretty decent, and the smell is wonderful.

It turns out to be some of the best and tastiest food either of them has ever eaten, especially the curry. It is, easily, everything that Yarrislav suggested it would be.

"Let's hope he knows the rest of his job this well."  She slurps up more of her dinner.  Her uniform will definitely need a wash after this.  One it won't likely get on any kind of timely basis.  "So.  Pickpockets.  Or you want to focus on something else?"

Flash considered a moment, then shrugged.
“Sure, pickpocket murderer.   Any ideas how?”

"Try and hire some pickpockets?  Maybe start working with pickpockets to get information?  I'm less concerned about petty theft than I am with murder.  The indigenous population doesn't even have pockets!  If we can establish some kind of deeper link between the victims, that would be a start."

Flash nodded, "I can't say I've ever tried, or studied the art of, pickpocketing", he shared, obviously thinking on the idea of 'infiltrating' the occupation, and making himself a target.
"Why would we hire such folk?" he asked, unsure where that would begin.

"Why not just try talking to them, pay them for their information?
Then, a thought came to him, "Why don't we put a tracker in something worth pickpocketing ... then start either working another angle, or another case, until it goes walkabout?
Perhaps there is some kind of PickPocket guild, or organisation, that we can follow it to.  Either we might sneak in there, and speak directly to the bosses ... or just jump the lone, hapless picker-pocket later, when they are less likely to be on guard?"

Buzz looks around to make sure they aren't being listened to.  "A tracking chip inserted into a data cartridge, perhaps?  If we can get the best encryption Danger Patrol has to offer and put it on a recipe book, that should give us enough time."  She finishes the last of her curry and flags the tired waitress to order dessert.  "Running down another lead, I'm not so sure of.  Depends on how fast the chip travels, I think."

The bored waitress takes the dessert order(s?) and leaves. She would appear to not care what her two customers have been quietly talking about, nor whether they live or die, nor whether she lives nor dies, nor whether the universe continues to exist for the next 20 minutes.

The dessert(s?) she brings back are excellent, though. Subtle flavors that complement the meal(s).

"I see no reason we cannot start making contact with the Union and its members, until the theft leads us down that frustria hole".
And travelling the city locating union members would likely make them available to the pickpocket community along the way.

"Deal.  Let's head back to headquarters, get the materials we need, and start snooping."

Flash nodded.  He quickly wolfed down the last of his dessert, and followed Corey out; and back to headquarters.

Buzz left a standard tip.  The service was subpar, but the food more than made up for it.  "My compliments to the chef," she said as she left.

"Shur, shur," says the waitress.

Back at Danger Patrol Headquarters, Yarrislav, involved in stamping papers with various Venusian-rubber stamps, raises an eyebrow at the agents' return. For him, this is a sign of eagerness.

"Boss!  We need a tracking fob we can integrate into data block or something.  We want it to get pickpocketed and then we'll track that down.  Put useful info on the block, but nothing secret.  But encode it, absolutely.  Recipes, maybe?"  Buzz is just machine-gunning words at this point.  "Nadia's was excellent by the way.  And then we need some details on the maintenance union.  We're gonna snoop around there while we're waiting for the pickpocket payoff."

"Makes sense to me..." says Yarrislav. He pushes a button on his desk and gives orders, and in five minutes a gold-plated data stick is brought to Yarrislav's office. He hands it over to Buzz.



Yarrislav nods, a nod of deeply-shared understanding. You three are in a special fellowship now (as far as Yarrislav is concerned).



"Er.... What sort of details...?"

"Who's in charge?  Where do they congregate?  Who should we not interrogate too harshly, given a strong impulse to do so?  That kind of thing." says Buzz as she connects the data stick to her wrist communicator to lock in the signal.

Flash loved watching Buzz take command.
She had a certain style to her, an enthusiasm, that he admired.

"The current head of the union is Francis Marmorstein. A very stubborn individual... which makes it hard for us to deal with him, and which also makes it hard for the Stygian Adepts to deal with him, so it somewhat balances out.

The most important name I can give you amongst the Stygian Adepts here is Knell Sedwick, an older fellow. Probably not the head man, but that's the highest-ranking Adept here I've got a name for.

They congregate down in the lower levels, at a worker's mess hall, Joe's Eatery #14.

I'd be careful about interrogating anyone beyond 'moderate' --the union workers because Marmorstein is so touchy, and the Stygian Adepts because they're unpredictable when pushed, and I feel that that makes them dangerous."

Flash wasn't impressed.   But he was becoming suspicious.
Basically, the Head of Danger Patrol on Neptune didn't want to provide them with Patrol sensitive materials ... either because he didn't trust them, or he was hiding something.  And he didn't want them investigating too hard the case at hand, for apparent fear of upsetting 'someone'.

But he kept his mouth shut, and let Buzz do the bizz.
When the tracking device was set, he planned on heading out into the mean streets of this underwater metropolis and getting something achieved.

"My suggestion," he said to Corey, "is that you take the bait.
As a human, you blend in here a lot better than I.  And possibly I have the better chance of using the tracking device to follow the bug".  He was referring to his innate athletic abilities ... if the thief were to take a running escape once the deed was done.

And, of course, they were both going to have to be 'undercover' in civ-wear.

Buzz nodded.  "Fair enough.  I'll go shopping, on my expense report of course, and get something appropriate for the civilians around here.  Once we get that planted, it'll probably be time to eat again, right?  14, you said?" she asked of Yarrislav.

Buzz was already thinking of what outfit she might be able to wear to make a tempting and plausible pick-pocketing target.

As she stood up, she asked Flash, "You think I could pass for a data jockey?"

"Yes, that's right," Yarrislav confirmed. "Anything else you need from me right now...?"

Buzz shrugged.  "I think we're good for now, boss," as she headed out of the room.

Flash left alongside Buzz Corey.

Once they were fitted up, with the bugged device and the tracking equipment respectively, Flash made sure that their Danger Link Communicators were working properly ... then prepared to  head out into the city.

"Good luck," Buzz offered to Flash, as they parted.

After checking her map, Buzz began wandering the corridors of the undersea base, dressed now as a mid-level data processing technician.  As much as possible, she tried to walk with purpose on a route she'd memorized.  No sense looking lost.  (Over)Confident people made for easier marks, she thought.  She would occasionally stop to check out fresh bulletins and news headlines from the public feed stations along the way.

The plan was to walk between various data centers all over the base, check in, use the facilities (to see if the data stick had been picked or not) and keep going until the bait had been taken.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:23, Tue 21 July 2020.

Sorry, why do we part?
I thought the plan was that Buzz would hit the streets, with the bugged data cache.
That Flash would be close by as she drifted through town (going shopping), and they were waiting for a pickpocket to lift the cache, so that Flash could track/follow it.

I don't mind if Buzz is instead headed for the undercity instead, but why are we splitting up?

Buzz and Flash headed for the busiest parts of downtown.

(Buzz, roll Charming, please.)

16:59, Today: Buzz Corey rolled 3 using 2d6-1 ((3,1)).

OOC: Come to me, my lovely experience points!

Buzz gets out there and walks around downtown and tries to act like a typical (wealthy) rubbernecking tourist.

She fails miserably. For the next few hours, she just seems to (figuratively) scream "cop."

For quite some time, no one takes the bait.

(Buzz gets 1 new xp, but takes -1 on her next roll...

Flash, roll Insightful, please...)

It was like the proverbial Train Wreck:  Flash couldn't take his eyes off the sheer, unbelievably bad performance.
He also wasn't going to try notifying Buzz via their communicators, for fear that would make it even worse ... and also, he simply wondered if this was (for some reason) a deliberate attempt by Buzz, because he couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly give such a 'wrong' presentation, even by mistake.

But he keep his eyes peeled around her, non-the-less.
- rolled 8 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,5.  Insightful.

When it finally happened, Flash didn't notice it. Never saw it happen.

What he DID notice was the pickpocket looking back over its... limbs... AFTER the crime (is it still a crime if you're trying to make it happen? After the "entrapment," maybe?) had taken place. And that was only because he'd been watching the locals... Getting a feel for their body language...

And THERE. THAT guy, or gal, or other. THAT native Neptunian. Looking back at Buzz, and then looking past Buzz and catching Flash's eye. Flash had seen that look in an eye before, and knew what it meant. It meant "Are you following me? Don't notice me don't notice me good, you're not following me."

And then it changed to "Oh crap I'm noticed--"

That Neptunian had just picked Buzz's pocket, he was sure of it.

The guy/gal/other was about 35 yards away...
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:06, Thu 30 July 2020.

Buzz continued trying to peruse the latest issue of Fluid Dynamics quarterly at the local newstand.

"Just play it cool.  Just play it cool," she muttered under her breath, completely oblivious to pretty much anything else.

Flash's initial plan was to simply let the bugged data package get lifted, then follow the tracking bug to where-ever it went.
But as the pick-pocket's eyes locked with his own, and ...
          -  rolled 6 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,2.  Charming: to pretend not to have noticed
... Flash realised he couldn't simply look away and pretend he hadn't noticed, he sensed the next dramatic moment.

Because that moment always led to a very specific next moment: and Flash's athletic, adventurous reflexes kicked in even before he thought on the matter.
Leaping forward ... the chase was on.

Sure, this was the Nept-klepto's home ground, and it could move in ways that Flash couldn't ....
But was it ready for the pure, awesome athletic abilities that the Titan brought?
Time would tell.
          - rolled 13 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 6,4.  Agility: to give chase.

Also, if it was too busy running and trying to escape, it wouldn't have the ability to investigate the data package and find the hidden bug.

(Flash gets 1 new xp, and gets a -1 to his next roll that isn't the one below...)




Flash catches up with the pickpocket in a... trice.

Now what? Grab 'im/'er/it? (If so, it will not require a new roll.)

Or pretend to trip or something and let 'im/'er/it get away...?

Buzz tries to *very* nonchalantly look over her shoulder to see if Flash has any signal for her.

Flash isn't there.

A quick, frantic scan of the pedestrians allows Buzz to spot Flash's green head and antennae bolting down one of the nearby passageways.  Buzz starts running that direction, muttering to herself, at herself.  "You played it a little too cool, there, you ring-wrecking tug jockey!"

Flash had the sqwid cornered, it seemed.
Pulling himself to a halt, he tried to raise himself to full height and puff out his chest ... to look all impressive and such.
“Right, don’t move, you ... thief.
Time for you to answer some questions”

rolled 6 using 2d6 with rolls of 1,5.  Confidence, -1 for recent bad roll.

The Neptunian runs for it again, moving low to the ground and zipping past Flash like a... slippery thing... taking off down the street once more in the same direction...

(Flash does get 1 new XP for trying it, though...

(Also, for future reference, I'd say that should have been a Charming roll (persuading others with words), not that that would have helped if it was.))
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:38, Sat 08 Aug 2020.

Flash wasn't sure what the hell to do; and so he impulsively gave in to his immediate impulse.
He chased ... with the intent to tackle.

- rolled 7 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 1,4.  Run it down.

(Flash slams his shoulder into a lamppost, and takes 1 damage.)

Flash slammed his left shoulder into a lamppost, but he got the... sentient.

The pickpocket babbles in its native language, but there are words and phrases here and there in your language, words like "pigs" and "minding my business" and "got nothin'" and "citizen" and "mouthpiece" and "was nowhere near."

So... yeah, it's a good bet this Neptunian is bilingual (but just anxious).

Also, when speaking your language, it sounds male, though maybe Neptunians just have naturally deep voices when they want to.

Buzz does what she can to catch up to Flash (and his quarry?)

Buzz soon catches up to Flash and his quarry...

When Corey catches up, Flash has hold of the Neptunian by ... I dunno, something resembling an ear, maybe a fin.
“We’re not cops, alright”, he was trying to explain, speaking into the fin(?) for more apparent clarity, “We’re not here to catch pickpockets, alright.
But we need to talk to you, and other petty criminal types.

Someone is killing pickpockets, alright.   Do you understand?
We’re here to catch the killer ... not you”, he was saying, trying to get this idea through the man squid’s thick soft, proverbial skull.
- rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 5,4.  Charm.

Buzz pats Flash on the back and then surveys their surroundings, trying to make sure trouble isn't creeping up behind them (or beside them or from above them ...).

The pickpocket grows still, stops wiggling (okay, switches to wiggling hardly at all. All wiggling that happens by choice seems to have stopped. Only automatic-wiggling is occurring).

"...I'm listening..." says Flash's captive.

"Good", Flash said.  And with a stern look of 'run and I'll kick your ass', he let go of the Neptunian's .. flap?
"Now, I am going to assume that you know about the recent spat of deaths to people in your occupation.  If you don't, say so.

My companion and I are not interested in curtailing petty crime.  We're here to put a stop to greater sins than that.
I'd like you to share what you know", he concluded, "Please".

"And if we don't think you know quite enough, you're gonna direct us to someone who does."  Buzz tried to look as menacing as her geeky disguise would allow.

Flash nodded at his companion's assertion.
It was true, the Neptunian miscreant was indeed going to be so helpful ... whether it wanted to be or not.

The Neptunian thinks. "I know of what you speak," it says with a male voice. "I am surprised that you both state that you are not coppers, and yet you also maintain your aforementioned interest in these matters. Are you working for The Family?"

It/he doesn't wait for an answer to that one. "In any event... I doubt I know anything that you yourselves do not already know. The events happen. Those who pursue my particular hobby and lifestyle fear that they will continue. We do not know the perpetrator nor perpetrators. We presume that a single madperson is responsible." A bubbly noise that might have been a sigh originates from the Neptunian. "I wish the events to cease, naturally. You may ask me additional questions, and if you do so, I may attempt to answer."

Flash considered a moment: "Well, you folk know this city much better than we do.
You have eyes and ears everywhere.  But we can provide a certain ... unforeseen ... backup that the murderer won't be expecting.

How many of 'those who pursue your particular hobby and lifestyle' could you bring together, if we were to work together.
We could, depending, cast something of a net over this city.  With the signalling devices we could arrange, we could ensure each of you has something of a Duress Alarm, which could be activated when in danger of the sort we seek to discover" he suggested.

He looked sideways to Buzz Corey and up.

The submarinal city here really didn't have a sky, per say.  The structure of the city built upward, as well as outward, to reach the limits of the dome.  No space was wasted.

But in some small form of air jet or flyer, he and she could respond rapidly to most any points of the city ... he guessed.

That was, if the pickpocketing community were willing to work as a 'bait' network.

Buzz would keep eyeing the pickpocket until Flash was done examining the scenery.  They'd already proven a wriggly customer.  She made menacing or persuasive facial expressions as needed.

Taking Flash's suggestion and once his eyes were back on their quarry, Buzz assessed the accessibility of the domed city herself.

"...Some, I feel certain, will not trust me sufficiently to participate. But... give me five hours, and I will gather what colleagues as I can to... Hmmmmm, where...? Someplace open, but quiet... Ah... One or both of you should be at the entrance of Triple-A City Tours. I will be there with whatever associates I can muster."

The city is fairly vertical, it's true, but there's room for airborne craft. Indeed, at any moment, a handful of these can be seen moving around above the city.

"What is your name, wriggly?"

"No, Wriggly is not my name... You may call me 'Wistful Blarborm,' for that is my Nom du Art here on the mean streets."

Flash nodded, "So be it, Wistful Blarborm", he said, offer one of his left hand towards the nearest tentacle, "And you may call me ...

   ....

            ...

Jumping Jack Flash.   We'll see at the appointed time and place".

And then, as an afterthought, "Oh, and the data package was a decoy.  There is nothing of value in that for you, but I'd like it back, please".

With body language that presumably connotes a sort of sheepishness, Wistful Blarborm returns that which was stolen.

(Any plans while the time passes between now and the meeting...?)

"Shall we grab a bite to eat for the expense report?  That was a lot of running.  We should refeul."

"Sure", said Flash, contemplatively, as they retreated.

Soon enough, they were eating somewhere, and Flash said, "I'd like to check out this Triple-A before the meetings ... and work out how aerially mobile we can get us, of at least you, for this upcoming excitement", as he munched on his caramelised coral snaps.

But he was worried about something else: how much this 'tangent' was going to interfere with their true mission here.
He still wanted to be getting back to the greater goal of investigating the Flame Queen - Void Cultist links.

Between bites (actually, during bites), Buzz described the Durablast^TM A110-X speeders she'd seen in the hangar at Danger Patrol HQ on Neptune.  Room for two, plus some space for gear, if they needed it.  She was unconcerned about the transportation element.

She was equally unconcerned about her appearance, as Venusian mustard and Asteroid Belt Sausage grease dripped onto her "disguise".

“Great”, Flash responded to Buzz.
“Let’s head back there and procure its use ... and as many duress trackers that we can.  I’d like each of our bait to be carrying one, so they can signal if they are being attacked
Do you have any ideas to add?”

Once the snack was had, Flash was ready to stop back via the HQ.

"If we can key the trackers to a 3D map of the city, it'd be good.  Maybe link a holographic display into the speeder.  Would help with navigation."  Buzz wiped the last of the sandwich grease on her lab coat.  The dregs of her drink were noisily sucked up through the straw.  "We also need to make sure that the trackers don't record or send signals before they're activated.  We're after the big fish.  No sense spooking the little fish.  They should be able to take the duress trackers apart and examine them and discover they are exactly what we say.  And only what we say."

Triple-A City Tours is a modest little shopfront, with brochures and maps of different tours: Historical, Architectural, Culinary, Shopping, and so on.

Inside are a few employees, and various motorized wheelchairs and other transports for visitors used to different gravities...

Flash entered, and began to casually look around.   He was, foremost, curious about what brochures and information they held for places other than this city ... this world.

But as he 'staked the place out', he subtly took note of those present ... and kept his eye on the time (ready to be out the front at the appointed time).

Buzz, still wearing her "disguise", rifled through the brochures and asked for a price schedule.  She also checked out all the exits, entrances, surrounding buildings, and vantage points that snipers might use to inflict a bad day.

It turns out that Triple-A City Tours is a local operation only.




The prices seem just barely on the affordable side of reasonable.

It looks like there's one other exit, to an alley, out the back.

The surrounding buildings are nondescript. There are windows, but it's an interesting thing-- they're all bulletproof. All exterior windows around here are. Buzz realizes that it's not because of a fear of bullets-- it's just that at least half the buildings in the city can be pressurized, in case of city dome breach, so that human citizens stand a better chance of being rescued before drowning in the event of a catastrophe.

A Neptunian comes up to Buzz. "May I help you, friend?" that sounds like it means May I help you spend some credits, or are you just working up the courage to ask if we have a restroom?

"Yeah. I want a menu.  Not of things to eat.  Although do you have one?  But what I want is a list of the tours.  Please."  Buzz smiles in an attempt at pleasantry.

"Yes ma'am..." The shopNeptunian gives Buzz a list of the tours.

"Thanks."

Buzz takes the list and sits where she can see the front and back entrances (if this is possible).  She scans the tours but also keeps an eye on the foot traffic (and vehicle traffic) by the entrances.

One trip to HQ and back later, and a freshened-up Buzz and Flash find a motley crew standing around in front of the city tour establishment. A few men, a couple of women, a few Neptunians...

One of them walked (slithered? tentacled?) up to Buzz and Flash. "As you can-- Pardon: I am Wistful Blarborm," he (?) explained, aware that the two humans might not be able to tell him (?) apart from others of his (?) kind. "As you can see, I have gathered those willing to listen, as promised."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:48, Sat 05 Sept 2020.

Buzz looked to Flash, trusting his charisma more than her own to win over the thieves.

... a mistake they'd both regret soon enough.

"Right then," Flash stepped forward, looking at the strange mass of suckers and squishy bodies before him, "you guys represent some demographic of the ... squishy ... underbelly of this town.  So we'll be monitoring you all closely from here on in.  Any problems, and we'll be all over you like chilli mayonnaise on calamari, you hear.
You'll all be fitted with these tracking devices ... and now don't try to mess with them, we'll be watching and we'll know when they activate.   Oh don't think we won't.
But other than that, you'll be just going about your regular lives.

Any questions?"

- rolled 3 using 2d6 with rolls of 2,1.  Charming.

(Buzz gets 1 new xp.)

About one third of the assembly immediately turn and start walking away.

One third (roughly) of them start yelling back at Flash (and, to a slightly lesser extent, Buzz).

The remaining third (mostly the Neptunians) start yelling at Wistful Blarborm.

OOC: Rolled a 6, not much better.

Buzz steps forward, trying to salvage the situation.  "What he means is, we wanna keep track of all you so we can find you if you wind up dead.  We think the the killers might be connected to some bigger stuff.  You all are expendable, of course, but if you press the button, we can at least stop more of you from dying.  Maybe."

She dumps the bag of emergency locators onto the walkway, in a loud clattering racket.  "See?  Check 'em out for yourselves."

(Buzz gets 1 new xp.)

More of the assembly leave.

Those remaining switch from yelling at the Danger Patrol agents to yelling at Wistful Blarborm (save for those who were doing so already), who starts turning a deep purple color, presumably a sign of his emotional mortification....
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:00, Thu 10 Sept 2020.

"WE ARE TRYING TO SAVE YOUR LIVES?", Flash said, getting agitated now.
What was wrong with these people?
'We are simply trying to find and stop the murderer that is killing you all", with a sigh.
Maybe they didn't think there was a threat?  Maybe they didn't like someone else coming in to help them

- rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,4.  charm.

This approach was not completely successful, but at least it got the remaining pickpockets listening again (and one or two of the people who were walking off paused to see what would happen next).

"You haven't acted like you want to save our lives," one woman said to Flash. "You've sounded more like 'We think that more of you are going to die, so help us avenge your deaths.' Are you really surprised that we're angry that Wistful Blarborm tried to make us think there was a plan that might actually save us?"

That doesn't seem to Flash and Buzz as being QUITE accurate, but it does emphasize that they've been explaining this wrong so far...

"Look, I'm not so good at ... talking to people.  I fly ships.  But we know that at least three members of your ... profession have been killed lately.  Maybe more.  We just got here."  Persuasion didn't seem to be working.  So maybe just laying her cards on the table, so to speak.  "Murder isn't acceptable where we come from, and it's a far worse crime than lifting a wallet here or there.  We want to find the killer or killers and bring them to justice.  Those," she says as she points to the pile of transponders, "are emergency beacons.  You get in bodily-harm-trouble, you press the button, we come running.  You can check them out if you want to.  And this is voluntary.  We're not here to force anyone into anything.  That does us no good."

Buzz survey what remained of the group.  Maybe she was getting through to some of them.  "And for now, this offer isn't expiring.  If a few of you want to take more beacons to hand out later, that's fine.  But this is for finding the person who's been hitting you.  This isn't a rescue if you pick a fight in a bar, ok?  Use your heads, please."

The woman, and a few others, come forward and take the beacons, examining them.

The other pickpockets mutter amongst themselves, but at least it's not angry muttering (anymore). It's more I dunno, what d'you think muttering.

Slowly, mostly one by one, more of them step forward to take the beacons...

Flash couldn't grasp* why these people were being such jerks, and not cooperating with something that was evidently to their benefit.  But for now, Buzz seemed to be getting through to them, so Flash just stood there ... looking as pretty as always.




* because he can't break the proverbial fourth wall and see his own crappy dice rolls

"If you got questions, ask 'em.  We're not gonna sittin' around at a kiosk waiting.  After this meeting, you'll need to get a message to DPHQ to flag us down for a non-emergency.  I'm Buzz.  That's Flash.  So you know who to ask for."

"So you'll be up above waiting for a signal that one of us are in danger?" someone asks. "For how long? Just daytime hours? You have to sleep sometime... or will you two work in shifts?"

"When have the attacks occurred?" Flash asked in return.  He hadn't, evidently, studied the reports too well.
"And have there been attempts on your lives that Danger Patrol may not have heard about?"

"We heard about 3 murders so far, by the way.  Boss didn't mention any attempts."

The pickpockets look at each other, then one man's face clears of confusion. "Oh, I see what you mean-- you mean, like... a pattern... Well, they're usually at the end of the day, give or take an hour. When everyone heads home from work."

"We have some peak times," said a Neptunian. "Morning rush, lunch rush, after-work rush. That last is when the attacks happen, more or less."

"Sometimes right before, sometimes at the end of the rush," said another.

One woman raised her hand. "I haven't been attacked... But recently I've felt I was being followed, or watched..."

"Can you give us details?  Where were you when you felt like you were being watched?  Were you following a mark then?  If so, what can you tell us about them?"

After listening to any available nuggets the woman can offer, she asks the others if they've had similar circumstances.

"I'd just finished a job, and then I felt watched. The feeling lasted for half an hour. Finally, I merged with crowds a few times, and finally the feeling went away." She shudders. "It didn't feel like the fuzz. It felt creepier."




A Neptunian raises a tentacle. "I had a similar feeling yesterday near the end of the after-work rush," they say. "It lasted for several blocks. Finally I checked into a quality hotel, asked for the house detective, and said I thought someone was following me. He said he'd keep an eye on my door. This morning, the feeling was gone."

Buzz turns to Flash.  "Should they signal us if that happens?"

Flash considered a moment, then, "So Buzz and I will ensure that we are both on board for the lunch and afterwork rush hours.  That seems to be when the greatest threat comes.
We'll both need sleep, of course, but we can have one of us at least monitoring the system from dawn through into the night.

If you get attacked, hit the button, and let it run hot.
If you feel you are being watched, activate it, then deactivate.   Then, do it a second time.  We'll not make contact with you, but we'll jump on your tail, and see if we can see who else is there.

Does that sound fine to everyone?"

Those still present agree that it seems reasonable.

(Meeting over...?)

The meeting breaks up, and the cross-section of the city's society of pickpockets casually scatter in all directions (and these are people who are experts at seeming like they're walking in no hurry and with no ulterior motives).

Now it's time for Buzz and Flash to wait... And to get prepared for tomorrow's lunchtime and after-work rush hours...

(Give me a little post about how y'all spend the time...)

Flash intended to get a good night sleep.   But for Flash, that meant going to bed late, and getting up even later.

Tonight, he spent some time on the computer back at Danger Patrol Headquarters.  He wanted to learn as much as he could about the Unions that Yarislav had talked about, and their possible connection to the Stygian Adepts.  After all, that was the job they were here to do.

Eventually, though, he slunk off to bed.

Buzz spent some time at the target range, ate more than her fair share of dinner, and then spent another couple hours sparing in hand-to-hand combat, both with humanoids and some of the Neptunians if she could convince one or two.  She had no idea who the murderer might be, so she was doing her best to be prepared to subdue anyone.  After a late night snack, she drifted off to sleep with the speeder manual open on her belly, getting all the specs as memorized as the night would allow.

(Flash, take an extra +1 on your next Insightful roll on anything to do with the city's unions OR about the Stygian Adepts.

Buzz, take an extra +1 on your next roll involving combat OR involving piloting one of the speeders.)

The next day's lunch rush comes and goes. No one activates their personal beacon.

Then the after-work rush begins...

(Someone give me a brief scene-setting post. Are you both on speeders, flying around, trying to look casual? Or are you taking turns?)

The city throbbed in its usual ways, as the denizens of the city sauntered through their mornings business, looking forward to that next change of pace:  the Lunch run.

Some of the cities pollution evacuation fans were playing up today, and so the atmosphere itself could almost be cut with the proverbial knife, and many people were wearing the respirators and mempos that were only ever dusted off for days like this.
It made the air feel thick, and sticky.

But nothing stopped the 'lower decks' from operating.  The cities intestinal belly was crammed full of the industrial machinery that kept the city alive, of course ... and these brutish, desielpunk factories and facilities had to run day and night.

It was something that the populous had got used to; it was part of living in a manufactured submarine city.


The 'upper decks', the city itself, was a three dimensional miasma of catwalks, buildings, pipes and such ... filled with people, offices, stores, pavilions, street vendors (some hovering to the higher building floors via their inbuilt mag-levs).


And somewhere in that chaotic maelstrom of humanoid and cepheloid bodies were the numerous pickpockets that Buzz and Flash were ready to respond to ... as well as their unknown perp.

The after-work rush is about two-thirds through, which means it's about one-third away from being over.

And then... someone activates their beacon.

It's about five blocks north of downtown.

It's been activated in the way that doesn't mean "I'm in danger now" but "I think someone's watching me..."

Buzz jumps to her speeder and takes off, assuming Flash will be following.

As much as possible, she stays below the tops of the buildings and tries to figure the best approach to get eyes on the pickpocket and their pursuer.  If at all possible, she'd make a first pass over the pickpocket in a way that the thief could see them coming and know that Buzz and Flash were there.  She'd continue nonchalantly until it was safe to turn and corner and the switchback and pursue.

Flash athletically and cinematically leapt across the bonnet of his speeder, spinning at the last moment to drop feet first into he piloting seat ... and then, moments after Buzz took off, punched his launch button.

He'd follow Buzz's flight path, though ... trust the pilot in these matters.

But when they were close to the beacon, he would skim his speeder along the rooftop of a nearby building ... and hitting the autopilot to follow Buzz's speeder, he leapt out onto the rooftop.

From there, he legged it quickly; using the transponder reader to get close to the target.

The target... is... there. Yes. That Neptunian down there. You THINK you recognize them from yesterday. A bit bigger than Wistful Blarborm (maybe this one is a different gender than Wistful Blarborm?). And while it's really hard to tell, yes, you might even recognize them from the meeting yesterday.

(Each of you roll Insightful...)

- rolled 8 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,5.  Insight.

I rolled a 9.

Buzz is the first to notice-- there's a man with a dark, wide-brimmed hat and a long, dark coat who's sort of pushing the boundary between lingering and loitering about a block from the Neptunian in question.

There are other people on the street, but none of them seem suspicious.

Could this be the cause of trouble? (Or will it be a false lead, and investigating the wrong person will reveal to the right person that there's danger? What to do?)

Buzz does a nonchalant pass over the narrow street.  She'll relay her observations to Flash and hope that his dexterity will allow for a cleaner unseen pursuit.

"At this point, maybe try to tail him and stay out of sight if possible?  I'm going to make some passes along some parallel and intersecting streets to see if I can pick up anything else while still being close enough to help.  Keep me updated via text."

Buzz also tries to notice what storefronts and other buildings are along this route, in case she needs an excuse for a quick drop-in.

Flash was on it.
His Agility came together with his Alien Training as his feet hit the streets.
His own instincts, along with Buzz’s Insight, allowed him to identify the potential threat quickly, and Flash moved into the shadows with the intent to shadow the darkly cloaked figure ... hopefully without being seen himself.

- rolled 12 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 5,4.  Agility + Alien Training for Shadowing.

The Neptunian pickpocket, having seen the sky sleds, gains some confidence, and leads his, her, or zir stalker farther north, away from downtown.

The man in the dark clothing... follows the same route, although if one didn't know better, one would say it was a coincidence.

Flash is able to get closer without-- in his opinion-- being spotted by the man.

Buzz will begin a circling pattern on the streets parallel to their route, although it's more of a U-shaped pattern.  Ahead on the east and then double back a few blocks behind the "chase".  Cut across, and then up and back on the west side.  She's never in view, but never more than a few blocks away from Flash and his prey.  She continues to look out for any other suspicious activity, trusting the tracking device and Flash's reports to keep her alert to that situation.

Flash watched, and continued to tail the the tail.
His inclination was to just jump the man, but he wanted to be ... more ... sure that this shadowing figure was the shadowy figure they were here for.

And so he compromised; continuing to tail the shadow (or shadow the tail?), but moving carefully to get closer to his mark ... ready to give chase if the man noticed him and bolted.
- rolled 8 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 1,5.  Agility to Stealth.

Flash has a moment of deja vu as the man does in fact notice him, and bolts-- just before Flash can get a good look at him, but close enough that Flash doesn't have far to go to catch up to the man.

He's heading toward an alley, but it's a pretty wide one...

"He's running", Flash informed Buzz as he took off after the trench coat in a heartbeat.

In a sense, Flash was glad:  he preferred this sort of confrontation to all the skulking and sneaking around.
Now, the chase was on.
- rolled 9 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 4,3.

Buzz maneuvered to patrol over the chase.  She moved a little lower and cycled down a little slower.  Ideally, she'd be close enough to jump in if necessary, but not so close she'd be in Flash's way.

The guy's kind of fast, but he also tosses piles of boxes and trash bags in Flash's way, thus managing to stay ahead while he moves farther down the alley.

He doesn't actually manage to increase the distance between Flash and himself, but he keeps Flash from catching up-- so far...

Flash had no intention of letting this little man escape.
As he leapt over, and zagged through, the spilled detritus of the alleyway, he drew his Magna-Grapple line ... and fired it high onto a building ahead of his pray.

Then, leaping into the air, he hit the Wind-in button, and allowed the line to pull him bodily through the air at a much faster rate than he'd have been able to navigate the rubbish strewn alley floor on foot.

Swinging in over the mess below, he hoped to catch up with his target swiftly ... using his air-swing to catch the man right in the back.

- rolled 11 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 4,4.  Agility + MagnaGrapple line.

The man goes down hard, and lies for a moment collapsed on the ground... Chase over...

Buzz zips up and parks her speeder just ahead of the route the suspect was heading.  The speeders form a partial barrier between them and at least one escape route.  Buzz has a hand by her blaster, but hasn't drawn it ... yet.

"Nice work."  Buzz keeps an eye on the crowd, particularly looking for the pickpocket who summoned them.

(There's no sign right now of the pickpocket who summoned Buzz and Flash, because they're probably back on the street, and Buzz and Flash and the running man

The stalker rises slowly up, like he's got no bones, into a standing position again.

"Fools," says the stalker. If thunder tried to do a stage whisper, this is what it would sound like. "You DARE to interfere with the will of the Stygian Adepts?!?!"

Black energies start to swirl around the stalker's hands...

(Each of you may roll AGILE or INSIGHTFUL (your choice) to help your odds of reducing/avoiding what's coming.

You may NOT roll to attack yet. The stalker is going to unleash heck first... This is more about either seeing it coming, or being so fast you didn't need to see it coming...)

Flash wasn't expecting this ... but even as the scene unravelled before him, his instincts were already kicking in ...
- rolled 7 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 2,3.  Agile.

Blasts of ebon energy (anti-energy? un-plasma? Who knows that the heck this stuff is. But it hurts, like if "toxic acid" was an elemental force of nature) surge forth. Buzz gets a barely-glancing hit on the back of one leg. Flash gets a slightly-worse hit. At least the wounds seem to more-or-less cauterize themselves...

(Buzz takes 1 damage. Flash takes 2 damage.

Annnnd NOW it's y'all's turns to act, and therefore roll, as you will...)

Buzz does not take kindly to being attacked and makes her response perfectly clear ... with her Ray Gun.

17:13, Today: Buzz Corey rolled 11 using 2d6+2 ((3,6)).

Flash realised the danger of the situation, and knew this had to end as swiftly as possible.
As Corey's shot smashed into the Stygian Adept, Flash followed up with a punch to the face.
- rolled 8 using 2d6+4 with rolls of 2,2.  Forceful; with Alien training.
- rolled 4 using 1d6 with rolls of 4.  damage.

The fact that this WAS a Stygian Adept spoke volumes; this was far to coincidental to be a coincidence.
And Flash felt himself back on the trail of those he'd come here to find.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:43, Fri 13 Nov 2020.

The Stygian Adept is hurt, all right... but not so hurt that he can't try a counter-attack against Flash.

TZWOSHHHHHHHHH... The stream of ultraviolet shadows whisper-roars from one of the adept's hands once more...

(15:05, Today: The GM rolled 10 using 2d6+1 ((5,4)).

15:05, Today: The GM rolled 5 using 1d6 ((5)).

Flash takes 5 new damage.

GM rolls MORE dice...

15:07, Today: The GM rolled 4 using 2d6+1 ((2,1)).)

The Stygian Adept has a split-second of calculation, like he's thinking okay, now what do I do, but he doesn't lose much time thinking about it-- he apparently decides that now that he's revealed, it's time for him to try to get away.

He blasts at Flash again, to better allow for his escape.

...However...

...He misses, partly due to Flash's Titanic reflexes, and perhaps partly due to the damage the man (or whatever he is) has already taken...

...Leaving the two Danger Patrol agents ready to once again attempt to dish out some justice...

(Y'all's turns now...)

Does Buzz's Ray Gun shot ...... do anything to the 'man'?

If its just a damage roll from Buzz that you need, I've taken the liberty on her behalf:
- rolled 4 using 1d6 with rolls of 4.

(Buzz rolled a 3, actually. She told me/us so in the OOC thread (and it was in the dice roller, if I missed that, but I didn't).

Buzz and Flash's attacks damaged the Adept, but didn't knock him down nor out.

So... hence my last post of about 17 mins ago)

Buzz, hoping that the wounds will be enough to slow down their opponent, grabs her cuffs to make an apprehension.  This would prove to be an interesting interrogation.

OOC: Rolled an 11 for Agile

Flash saw Corey going for her cuffs, and realised that she wanted to take this guy into custody immediately.

Flash also knew that the easiest way to cuff a perp was when the perp was out cold; and so he swung a huge fist into this guy.
- rolled 13 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 4,6.  Forcefully attack
- rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,4. damage with 'do an extra 1d6 damage but risk exposing yourself to enemy attack'.
Thats two very mystical numbers rolled!

The added advantage, Flash hoped, was that with his blatant and aggressive approach, the Stygian Adept might be more inclined to pay Flash all his attention, and overlook what else was happening.

Buzz, in an uncanny display of speed and agility, manages to slap cuffs around whatever the Stygian Adept's using where wrists would go.

It turns out that the inky blackness at the ends of his coatsleeves is indeed both solid enough for cuffs, and that the inky blacknesses where he has hand-shaped things are too big to wriggle out of them.

It probably helps that Flash walloped the guy, hard.

Apparently Stygian Adepts are built tough, because this guy's fighting to stay conscious, still, but he's also definitely dazed, just sort of standing there reeling for a second, not-- for the moment-- trying to get away, nor fighting back.

Buzz uses a spare pair of cuffs to shackle the Adept's ankles.  They have already proven speedy on their feet.

"You have any of the Doze-all^TM to use on them?  Cut down on the struggling while we get them back to HQ?", she asks Flash.

Flash checked his belt array for Doze-all^tm.  He was much more inclined to just put the perp to sleep the old-school way, but was (as was becoming often the case these days) willing to follow Corey's lead on the matter.

Nope, no Doze-all^tm.

"Nope, so why don't I just ..." and he swung a haymaker to cold cock the guy ...
                         - rolled 6 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 2,1.  Hit that sucker.

Buzz hoped Flash's swing had connected enough (maybe he was holding back a little too much?) and she slammed the suspect over the back of her speeder, belly first.  She connected the handcuffs to the step bar for the back passenger and immediately took off in a vertical rise.  It wasn't fast traveling, but it made trying to jump off much less attractive.  "Let's head to HQ."  She began to radio a coded status update to the boss.

(Flash gets 1 new xp (any sign of leveling up soon...?), and bad things attempt to happen.

The GM rolls dice...

Hmm, okay... This'll wait until a bit later... proceed, y'all...)
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:11, Wed 25 Nov 2020.

Not yet.   ;-P

Flash jumped into his 'tag along' speeder, and allowed Corey's steed to lead the way.

Buzz flew high and took as direct a path as possible to get to HQ.  She did her best to avoid sudden turns, accelerations, or stops, so as not to endanger the information source on the back of her speeder.

(Nothing interferes with the trip back to Danger Patrol headquarters.)

Buzz had radioed in during the trip that they were bringing a suspect in for questioning related to the pickpocketing in the city.  The message was coded, of course.  She was expecting at least four armed officers to help bring the Adept to the interrogation chamber.

Once they landed deep in the hanger, Buzz pulled on the prisoner, trying to get them to their feet.  If nothing else, it would show how lively the suspect was.

Flash, his air-scooter on 'tail' to Corey's, watched the suspect like the proverbial hawk then entire ride back in to HQ.
When they arrived, he leapt from his vehicle, and joined Corey as she pulled the Adept from his seat.

(The prisoner's handcuffs are currently attached to the step bar on the back of the speeder.)

The blacker-than-vantablack-skinned prisoner doesn't quite seem unconscious, but badly dazed, stunned, maybe concussed.

Buzz nods her head to Flash in a "keep an eye out" kind of way and begins unlocking the handcuffs from the speeder so the prisoner can get to interrogation.

OOC: Are the officers I requested here in the hanger yet?

(09:42, Today: The GM rolled 12 using 2d6 ((6,6)).)

The INSTANT the handcuffs are unlocked, the prisoner blasts Buzz, knocking her back about twenty yards. The dazed-ness was a feint!

It does no damage to her, like before, because it wasn't designed to-- it was designed to create distance, not to hurt.

The adept runs for the wide entrance/exit of the speeder bay that will lead to the outside.

The officers nearby fire-- but miss.

In about two seconds, the adept'll be out of the building, and anything could happen.

(Buzz, you may attempt to fire (from a prone/seated position), with a -2 penalty.

Flash, you may attempt to fire, or to leap, with no penalty.

You may each try other things I haven't thought of, but Buzz has a penalty and Flash doesn't.)

Buzz, knocked into a stack of empty fuel cells, whips out her raygun.  She has a clean shot for the briefest moment as the adept's path to freedom aligns with a gap between a larger patrol ship and the work benches.  "Oh, no you don't!" grunts Buzz as she pulls the trigger.

OOC: I rolled a 9, used one ability

Buzz hits the adept in the leg, and he goes down, snarling. He points vindictively at Buzz and blasts her with energy, meaning to hurt 'er, this time...

(Buzz takes 2 new damage.)

The other officers run toward the exit, covering it. The adept still might get away, but he's a lot more likely to get shot first, this time.

The officers shout things at the adept about not even freaking moving and asking him if he's feeling lucky and stuff like that.

The adept ignores them, watching Flash and Buzz (especially Flash). It's clear that if Flash and Buzz weren't present, the adept would definitely try his chances with the shouting officers. He seems to be trying to gauge just how badly Flash and Buzz want him alive or not...

(Same as before: Flash, you may proceed... Buzz, you may act again, but still with a (new) -2 penalty...)

Flash didn't react fast enough to the Stygian Adept's attack at Corey, but as the man turned his back on Flash in his attempt to flee out the hanger doors, Flash leapt.

Like the great leaping spiders of the Garvourish Caverns, Flash sprang high in the air, his four arms spreading wide.
As he landed on the escaping perp four powerful arms (honed from his after years of wrestling meets),  and two power legs closed around the perp like a spider ... and Flash's head (again, from years of combat training) slammed into the back of the Adept's head in a 'Liverpool Kiss' that Flash had practised many times.

- rolled 14 using 2d6+4 with rolls of 4,6.  Forceful tackle, using Alien Physiology.
- rolled 4 using 1d6 with rolls of 4.

"We need them alive!" shouts Buzz as she lurches to her feet with a too-loud grunt, gritting her teeth from the pain.

Success! Flash pounces, and knocks the adept out.

He must really be out this time, because the blackness covering his skin disappears. Now he just looks like some unknown human guy, with normal eyes with pupils when one opens an eyelid.

Flash re-secures the cuffs that still dangle from one of the adept's wrists, and takes him into headquarters for holding (and maybe very very carefully administered medical attention) and, later, surely, interrogation.

Flash, after apprehending and securing the prisoner, slung the body over his shoulder and carried the man to where they needed him to be.

But along the way, Flash seemed ... thoughtful.   Something was playing over his mind, and it showed in his face.

As he and Corey stood by watching medical attention being very, very carefully administered, he said,
"I have a sinking feeling that we'll discover that we no longer have a Stygian Adept".
Then, to clarify, "We don't know enough about them; and maybe this guy we have here now was simply possessed by one".

"Maybe that matte black camouflage is an effect they can only get when they're awake?  That could be useful knowledge."  Buzz shrugged and kept an eye on the hallway and broader perimeter.  "If the Adepts can possess people and use them like puppets, that makes things far more complicated.  And I still don't know why one was tracking that pickpocket.  We'll need to find her and see if she'll tell us what she's lifted lately or who she's seen."

Flash shrugged: unsure and concerned.

Checking in with the pickpocket was a good idea ... but right now, Flash had no intention of letting the the apparent Adept out of his sight.


Happy to move on to interrogations, or whatever comes next

Deeper within the headquarters, the man is placed in a top-security cell with a very, very strongly reinforced door, walls, floor and ceiling.

A medico examines the man. "He's out. He should come around in a couple of hours... unless you want me to try to bring him around immediately? I think I can..."

Flash seemed happy to let the miscreant awake in their own time ... while he waited patiently nearby to observe.
As he did so, he'd pull over data screen, and search for details of their identity (for surely the medical folk can take enough sample DNA and prints to figure out who this is?!?)


- rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,4.  Insight.

Buzz, too, was content to be patient.  She filled her belly in the downtime, and poked through the items lifted from the prisoner, trying to find clues.

There's not a lot to find. He's apparently Bob Telemachus (sounds Martian), been in the city for a couple of years now on business. That's about all the computer has-- no prior records of criminal behavior.

(Buzz, roll Insightful.)

Buzz finds absolutely nothing of interest in the possessions from the man's pockets. It makes her bored and fidgety just looking, really. (Buzz gets 1 xp and takes -1 forward.)

Well, other than wait for their perp to waken, so they could interrogate him, there seemed little else to do.
Without leaving sight of the guy, Flash had some food brought ... and waited, patiently(?).

Buzz walks over to the corner of the room and begins burning the man's possessions.  "It's a card for 'Vinny's Laser Disk Rental Palace.'  That chain went out of business ten years ago.  He won't miss it."  She glares at the unconscious adept.  "It's like they're trying to piss us off.  Ouch!"  Buzz drops the black, flaky remains of the card that had burned to close to her fingertips.

After some time, the man in the cell starts to awaken.

When he does, his skin doesn't darken-up again... He seems... half perplexed, half worried.

Buzz, gritting her teeth in frustration, remains silent and waits for the man to speak.

Flash was less patient.
Standing in front of the perp, he demanded that the man, “Spill it.
Personally, I’m hoping that you will pretend to be all innocent and ignorant”.

"Uhhhhh..." He does in fact look like he wants to act innocent and ignorant at first, but then he wakes up enough to recognize Flash's uniform. "Oh. The Danger Patrol. Oh, no..."

This fellow seems to be aware that:

1. He's guilty of something.
2. It's something he wouldn't want to talk to the Danger Patrol about.
3. It's too late for the previous item on this list.

Now to find out what he thinks he's guilty of...

Buzz cracks a hint of a smile.  "Cooperation generally reduces sentences.  The right information might even convince people you've turned over a new leaf and might be worth letting go entirely."

The man is interested in the implied offer. "...In...information...? What is it you want to know...?"

"Let's start out with why you were chasing that woman through the city."

The man frowns. "Ah... what woman?"

On one hand, he seems to actually not know what woman you're talking about, but he also clearly knows something that he's holding back...

"NO," Flash stepped forward, "Lets start out with ... why she's now dead?
Lets start out with ... why on Saturns thirty-fourth ring we shouldn't hand you to that lynch mob outside, and let them put you on trial by public media?
Because guarantee'd, it won't matter to them what you might have to say.

Right now, I'm willing to listen.  But if this little performance at acting innocent continues, I'll tire of it real quick", he said.

"Fine, start with the easy questions," Buzz grumbles.

(UGH, turns out it was my turn for days, sorry (Nudge me when that happens!))

"I-I don't know what woman you're talking about," says the man, but he's really starting to sweat (figuratively. Mostly figuratively. Maybe a little non-figuratively. Mostly he looks a little cold and clammy (for a human), like he wishes he could just pass out. It's mostly a result of having a Titan Danger Patrol agent yelling at him.)

Again: he really doesn't seem to know what you're talking about.

But again: he does, in your opinion, seem to maybe know why he doesn't know what you're talking about, even though he has yet to admit to this.

"Perhaps a different approach.  Why were you on the street you were on when we apprehended you?"

Buzz is also starting to worry about his physical condition and looks over the available notes for any medical monitoring he's undergone since he was apprehended.

"Ummmm... I don't... remember. The last thing I remember, I'd just left work, downtown..."

Flash suddenly exploded in a rage, and slammed his fists onto the table ... "SPILL IT"

"Um-- Well-- Is this... Does this have anything to do with the Stygian Adepts...?"

“Yyeeeessssss”, Flash said ... well, it was more like a hiss ... as he leaned in very close to the man’s face.
“Spill.  It”.

"Well-- I mean-- like... I'm... technically...? A member of the Stygian Adepts...? I've been to some of the meetings, they registered me, took some blood, I signed some stuff... Um... It's... I... I thought it was mostly like, um... a sort of business fraternity...? To make business contacts and stuff...? Those all have their little rituals and ceremonies, right...? But then I started having um a couple of blackouts where I didn't remember things afterward..."

"Well, I think some locations of activities and identities of known associates are in order then, huh?"

The man gives you two names of other businesspeople he knows who also go to the meetings. He only knows one name of someone higher in the organization than himself, though: Jahn Rococco. "I think she's an antiques dealer...? I'm pretty sure she works downtown... Definitely an office, but I think she's actually got a showroom, too..."

As for locations, the meetings all started down in the lower levels, at some union workers' mess hall, Joe's Eatery #14.

"Then they'd blindfold us and walk us to some other location... Not too far away, though. Like, three minutes' walk..."

"... started having blackouts.   eh
And now people are dead.   And you are going to try for the 'but I didn't know what I was doing' defence?

I suggest you start cooperating VERY fast, if you hope to convince anyone of your innocence in their deaths".

But Flash was starting to see his previous predictions coming true before his eyes.  The Adepts were hijacking folk ... probably through Adept'ly magics, and the 'blood samples' that dickweed and his fellows had offered up.


At least, they were finding a connection between the Pickpocket Attacks, and the Stygian-Union aspects.

"Uh... maybe?"




"Um, okay...? I'm cooperating...?"

"Maybe we give him a little more time in a hold cell to jog his memory while we follow up on some of these leads?"

She tugged on Flash and pulled him over to a corner, whispering "And maybe have someone we trust in Danger Patrol start running background checks on the guards here, cross referencing for anything that pings off this guy's statements.  If a schlub like that can let his ambition get manipulated into this kind of thing, no telling if there's a mole in the department."

Flash looks back at the Perp, then nodded.
"That works as well as any other plan".

And with Corey's intimation of 'someone we trust', he asks, "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"That's the hitch.  I haven't seen any familiar faces since we landed.  Maybe they're here, but I haven't seen them.  You?"

Flash shook his head, "Other than Yarrislav, I don't know anyone here".

"Perhaps its best if we simply work the case, and not involve anyone else here".
They had a new lead (or two) that they could follow.

"It would still be better to get some lists of possible suspicious activity.  Maybe request rosters of everyone assigned patrols in the lower decks?  Get someone else to compile a list of anyone who expensed stuff at the places he mentioned.  Then cross reference?  If people don't know they're in as deep as they are, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Ok", Flash nodded.   He could see the validity in her thoughts, but it sounded like a lot of extra work and he wasn't convinced that the payoff was worth the work.

But he trusted Corey, and was willing to help.

Buzz continues to speak in hushed tones so their captive can't alert any of his higher-ups.  "Right.  I'll put in the requisition for the expense records."  She hastily copies a list of the establishments their kind informant had provided.  "You get the patrol records.  If we can't get those, maybe arrest records geotagged to that area will have the officers names we're looking for."

"Right.  I am on it", Flash said, as he headed off in an attempt to get those patrol and arrest records.

- rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 2,2.  Insightful/Charming.
I figure if he's not Accessing Records himself, he's attempting to schmooze info from others at the station.

Flash is unable to get anything useful out of anyone-- they're all too busy to help him. Reports on what happened in the alley, and especially reports on what happened in the hangar, have sent everyone into a frenzy of bureaucratic filing and collating.

(Flash gets 1 new xp, and takes -1 on his next roll.

Is it time to level up yet (for anyone...?))

Buzz waits in the hanger, sat astride her speeder, scowling as she scrolls through the information she's collected from the department accountants.  "I read all these numbers and they didn't even show anything criminal?  How can the prosecutors do this all the time?  I'd bore myself to sleep 10 times a day."  She's loud enough for Flash to hear, although she doesn't even seem aware that he may be around at all.

Nothing seems helpful, although the list of agents and city police officers assigned to the lower levels is comprehensive.

The person who spends the most time down there is apparently an officer named Joe Seamus...

According to his schedule, he should apparently be at police headquarters right now, if anyone wants to talk to him.

"Let's schedule a meeting with this guy for after we do our rounds," Buzz suggests, pointing out Seamus's badge number.  "Maybe he'll be sweating until we get back, and hopefully we'll have a better idea of what questions to ask.  Sound like a plan?"

Buzz revs her speeder.  It's not entirely clear if this is due to impatience, an attempt to intimidate, or just because she likes to listen to the engine roar.  Her smile is inscrutable.

"Yeah, sure", Flash said, sounding skeptical, "but aint we gunna follow up on this Jahn Rococco person?"

"Of course.  That's who we're goin' a few rounds with."  Buzz winked and threw a few punches in the air.

It's a simple enquiry to find the workplace of Jahn Rococco. It turns out to be a showroom on the west side of downtown, the Tenebre Gallery.

It's very fancy for an antiques shop... It really is more like a gallery.

A large (for a human) man walks up to the two Danger Patrol agents. "May I help you...?"

Buzz, in her very conspicuous manner, tries to size up the man in front of her, as well as the value of the items displayed.  She'll try to judge, by the prices and her previous experience in busting fences, if the items are genuine, etc.

(Roll Insightful...)

Buzz really can't tell if the items displayed are any good or not. They certainly might be. They look authentic. But they could just be good fakes.

The guy in front of her, he's another story. He's packing a gun, she can tell by the way his clothes fit 'im. He also has a vibe like he's done... much rougher work than this in the past.

Buzz smiles and waves at the wares."Nice stuff."

She turns to face him, calm.  "We'd like to speak to Jahn, please."

The man frowns. "Are you... friends of Ms. Rococco...?" As if the Danger Patrol uniforms aren't obviously right there.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:32, Sun 21 Feb 2021.

"We aim to give her that opportunity, yes", Flash said, from just behind Corey, easily looking over her shoulder with his height advantage.

He was already sizing the thug up, wondering if all these valuables broke easy when a thug got thrown through them.

"Well... what is this about, exactly?" he asks.

Yes, most of the items on sale do in fact look insufficiently-reinforced to support the weight and momentum of a Titan-thrown mook.

Buzz smiled, which generally had the effect of putting people's back up.  "Unless you are Ms. Rococco, I don't think we need to tell you that."  She leaned toward one of the display cases, more closely inspecting the contents.  "It is a bit time sensitive, though.  So if you would be so kind as to inform her of the importance?"

The man gives both Danger Patrol agents a Clearly, We Can Never Be Friends look, but he seems to acknowledge that it's time to give the agents their way... for now. "Please wait here. I expect that I'll be back shortly. Feel free to look around in my abse-- to peruse the merchandise, while I'm gone."

He gives them one last Memorizing Your Faces For My Enemies List... Check look, and then goes into a door in the back marked Private: Do Not Enter.

Buzz moves on to the next case to continue perusing.  To Flash, she says "You want to cover the back door outside or should I?"

Buzz became aware that Flash was already headed out the door ...
directly outside, he shot a grapple up to the structural webbing above the building, so he could 'fly on up' to the roof, and quickly moved to where he could look down upon the back door.

The mook comes back out of the PRIVATE door with an icy brunette. "I am Jahn Rococco," she says to Buzz. She gives Buzz a look up and down, sizing her up, and decides to go with a simple: "What is this concerning?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Mon 12 Apr 2021.

Buzz smiles, which is a bit unnerving to the casual observer.  "Thank you for speaking to me.  It seems we have a mutual acquaintance."  Buzz will drop the name of the man in the holding cell.  "He mentioned a 'business association' you both are a part of.  Seemed quite enthusiastic.  He referred me, of course.  I'm wondering if you could provide a little more in the way of details.  He was a little foggy on the particulars."  She mimed the imbibing of excessive amounts of alcohol and shrugged.

OOC: I don't think our perp had a name yet, or maybe I just missed it.

(Yeah, you guys never specifically asked, exactly, so I never got around to making one up.)

"Yes, he and I do both belong to the Stygian Association, a casual business affiliation, for networking purposes," she says. "What sort of trouble has he gotten himself into, exactly...?"

"Why assume he's gotten in trouble?  Is that something he's prone to?"

Rococco almost smiles. "Because there's a Danger Patrol agent in my showroom," she says, arching one eyebrow (even higher than it had already been arched).

"Patrol agents aren't allowed in your business association?  That sounds a bit discriminatory to me.  I'll have to check Neptunian local regulations to see if that might warrant an investigation."  Buzz flashes her own cocky grin.  Arched eyebrows don't scare her (although it's entirely possible they should).  "Or do you think you could tell me more about how you and my new friend help each other out?  I'm up for mutual aid.  It's nice when you know someone's got your back, right?"

"I wouldn't say it goes that far... it's more of... a network of introductions. I introduce someone to my accountant... they introduce me to someone who's already got an opening toward distribution and advertising on Jupiter, say. That sort of thing, merely recommending contacts... with personal endorsements."

"And who do think you'd introduce me to?  Or maybe who might benefit from getting to know me?"  Buzz gestures at the expensive pieces around her.  "You've got an eye for value.  I have skills to offer.
 I have elbows I've already rubbed."

Flash waited patiently upon the roof, watching the backdoor and alleyway it emptied on to.


ooc, no need to rush the interaction downstairs.  I really am happy to wait

For the first time, Rococco really seems surprised (although also nonplussed). "Such introductions are for members. Are you saying you'd be interested in becoming a member...? Do you have some business interests or investments on the side...? Or...?"

"Let's just say that the rumors about the pension fund are starting to get a little louder, even given the life expectancy DP agents can have.  I'm certainly looking to make some of my own investments.  And the ... less public, the better, I guess."

OOC: I have no idea if this was the plan, but I've made my choice and I'm stickin' with it!  Apologies in advance if I get us killed, Flash!

Rococco thinks fast (though it still takes several seconds), looking a little like she's gritting her teeth doing it. Finally, she makes her decision: "...What if I invited you to a meeting tonight, then...?"

"I think I can clear my schedule."  Buzz produces a battered business card from some small pocket in her uniform.  "You can send the details here, if you would be so kind.  Unless you want to give me the particulars now?"

"...Can you be at a place in the underlevels this evening? 'Joe's Eatery #14' is the name of the place... at 11 pm?"

Buzz makes a show of writing down the address in her note pad, and then uses said pad to tap Jahn congenially on the shoulder.  "I'll be there with bells on!"  She turns her crooked smile back and forth between Jahn and her hulking "salesman".  "You coming too, bub?  It'll be nice to have another friendly face there," she asks of a face that is decidedly not friendly.

She clearly does not like the familiarity, but she manages to restrain herself from saying or doing anything hostile regarding it.




"That depends on what Miz Rococco says," says the mook.

"Low ranking in the Stygians, huh?  Good to know.  Now I know who my competition is."  Buzz winks at the looming henchman.  She turns and walks toward the exit.  "See you tonight!"

The mook just glowers at Buzz. He'll probably come up with a clever rejoinder about five minutes after Buzz is gone.

After exiting, as she walks toward the speeders, Buzz sends a message to Flash's wrist unit letting him know she'll be by the vehicles and maybe grabbing a snack, but it may be useful to watch the back exit a few minutes longer, just in case.  She's content to keep herself busy until Flash is ready to bail and compare notes.

... and that is what Flash will do.

After waiting long enough to buy from two different street vendors and consume her prizes (and gather another stain on her uniform) Buzz will message Flash.  I think it's safe to leave now.

Flash met Corey back at the sky-sleds.
"How did your chat go?"

"She's gonna take me to a meeting of the 'Stygian Association' tonight.  I'll see if I can ID anyone, figure locations.  Safe bet they're gonna scan me for bugs and trackers, so if you're gonna follow to get intel, we'll need something sneaky.  I should probably have a common comms device with a recorder with me, though.  Everyone does.  That way they can feel better when they take it away."

Flash nodded, "We could have secreted about your person a small homing device that requires activation ... perhaps even assembling prior.   That way, if it is not on, an scans will not detect it.
And so long as we are clevererer than they, they won't find it ... or its components.

But I'll be close in the area, regardless".
If that seemed a good plan to both, Flash was happy to head back and get that arranged ... and some rest so that the two were prepared for the evening.

"Do we have anything, like, smelly?  Pheromones or something?  I take some pill and sweat out some kind of traceable enzyme you can detect with the right equipment.  Or maybe a dog?  Maybe something that smells like perfume or cologne?  They can't detect that with signal scanners and they can't remove it from me.  Worse case scenario, they decide I stink and just decide not to take me somewhere.  Does that work?"

Buzz continues the conversation on the closed channel just between the two speeders as they fly a leisurely pace back to HQ.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Sat 05 June 2021.

"That's an ... interesting ... spin on the matter.
Yeah, I reckon we could find some kind of chemical that would cause you to sweat some subtle but distinguishable odour", Flash said on route.

After a moment, he asked "How much do you understand Titanic biology?" in a way that showed a greater than normal interest in the subject at hand.

"Not enough to be useful.  Roughly the same I know of human biology: shoot in these places when they're shooting at you.  Speeder anatomy, on the other hand ..."  A broad smile broke across Buzz's face.  "How much time you got?"

Ok, So GM can we concoct (or otherwise requisition/acquire) a smell/pheromone based scent that would, to a particularly good nose (and even an olfactory tracking device), leave a distinctive enough scent to be followed?

(To concoct it yourself, roll Insightful. To requisition it, roll Charming.)

- what do you say, Corey?  Do you wanna try your hand at this?
Otherwise, we requisition

OOC: Corey is smarter than she is charming, but this is way out of her wheelhouse, so she'd be inclined to requisition.  If you are more charming than she, feel free to take the lead on that.

With that decision made, Flash said, "I'm on it.   You get some rest; you need to give a good performance tonight"

Then he headed off to Requisition what they had discussed.
- rolled 11 using 2d6 with rolls of 5,6.  Charm, for requisition.

"A smell- or pheromone- based scent that'll let you track with a particularly good nose (or even an olfactory tracking device)? Sure!" says the quartermaster back at headquarters. "Let's see... how about a nice lavender scent? And here's a little Sniffmaster 9000 if your tracker's got a cold!" The quartermaster hands over a small glass vial full of a light violet liquid, and a small handheld device marked SNIFFMASTER 9000.

"Awesome, thanks", and took the items ... back to Corey.

"Ok, so now we get some rest, and be ready for tonight's excitement.
Do you have a little black dress for the occasion?"

Buzz just blinks in confusion.  She hadn't thought this part through.

She stammers out, "Maybe a nice pantsuit?"  She starts heading for the lost and found.  After asking several perplexed passersby if the garments she's holding might be good for a business meeting, she trudges to the undercover supply office.

"I need to look nice for a business meeting tonight."  She looks devastated at the prospect.

(Buzz gets 1 new xp.)

"Ooh, sorry, don't really have anything like that... We've got enough problems keeping humans-- and Neptunians-- fitted in proper Danger Patrol uniforms... Now, if you could give me a week or two..."

(Buzz will take -1 forward on her next Charming roll...)

Buzz's hand snaps across the counter and grabs the Neptunian by one of their tentacles.  She pulls the cephalopod's head close to hers and growls through gritted teeth, "You have two ways you can be useful.  Tell me where I can find something suitable and affordable, or I'll be wearing a squid skin gown this evening."

OOC: Charming she is not.

"Erm... ah... I would say that one's best bet would be Textiles And Tactiles, on Euclid Street...?" says the supply officer...

"Thank you," she says with a genuine smile, which may be more intimidating than her scowl.  She releases the officer and begins to march out of HQ.  "C'mon, Flash.  Let's make a lady out of me."  More quietly, she mutters, "God, I hate this.  Next time you wear the dress."

Textiles And Tactiles does indeed, as promised, turn out to be a clothing shop on Euclid Street... They tend toward vintage clothing, but at least the prices are pretty good... More ladies' stuff than men's, too, which suits the needs of the moment...

Not a lot of stuff that would fit a fellow of Titan heritage, but then that wasn't what the supply officer was asked about...

Buzz rifles through the racks (roughly) trying to find a pantsuit that might fit her.  If she can't find it in yellow, maybe a bright purple.  She will accept help from a salesperson, although not graciously.  "No.  No.  No.  Fusion puke!  This is gonna take all day!  No.  No.  No."  She turns to Flash, oblivious to how attuned he is to human business fashion.  "I'm gonna have to wear nice shoes, aren't I?  Like heels or something?"  She turns her attention back to the racks, an almost understandable grumble escaping her lips ... something very akin to profanity in half a dozen languages.

"Umm, yeah, I guess", Flash replied.   Currently, he was preoccupied with the Bridal Gowns magazine in his hands.
"... that you can run and fight in".

Buzz just nods.  "Fancy sneakers.  Smart."  She continues to flip through the racks, occasionally looking around for the shoe section with no small amount of dread.

Eventually, she picks a few things to try on that are likely ill-fitting, out of style by several years, or both.  And nearly everything she chooses is a garish color.  She will occasionally tromp out of the dressing room in her bare, calloused feet and spin around for inspection.  "Classy enough?  Does this say, 'I want money and I'm willing to be brainwashed for it'?"

Eventually, Buzz seems to settle on a bruise-purple pantsuit with gold piping along the seams.  The shoulder pads are huge and the lapels seem quadruple-breasted, like someone was trying for haute couture and missed by a few parsecs.  Her rubber-soled flats are covered in silver sequins.  "It's classy," she insists.

She will, of course, listen to Flash's input if he offers any suggestions, especially for things like jewelry.

Taking Flash's silence for approval, and whipping out the Danger Patrol credit card, Buzz buys the suit, adding and EXTREMELY gaudy (to anyone else) broach in the image of a Neptunian mime to add to the ensemble.  "If I don't look like I'm trying to hide a bug, they're gonna be disappointed!" she explained as they made their way back to the speeders.