The Found Arcana – Chapter 5 [IC]
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The Found Arcana – Chapter 5 [IC]
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Lysander seems to wave off Bobby’s concern.
“I’m not worried about you using the information yourselves. I can’t rightly ask you to forget something that you already know, could I?” Actually, elves do this all the time with Laés, but either Lysander’s not like that or he figures that the information is older than the effective timeframe of Laés.
“Just don’t go spreading it around. That’s my job and how I make my cred, which is why and how I have creds to pay you. So if you want to keep your creds – and make more in the future – keep the information to yourselves.”
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Thursday Morning, November 24, 2078, Touristville, Redmond
You show up at the Redmond Civil Center, which looks more lively than it did yesterday morning. Yesterday it was mostly deserted but today there’s a scrum of people crazy enough to work here mixed with people crazy enough to live in Redmond and are doubly-crazy for coming here to try to complain about something, or get something changed. But every mighty oak was once a little nut who stood its ground… so who knows, maybe some good will come of this after all.
There’s a good deal of crowd control at the entrance, as Knight-Errant officers (whose Redmond district headquarters is next door) try to separate the truly insane from those who are merely unwashed. Maybe they know to expect you or maybe you look less disgusting than the squatters and less antagonistic than the local grass-roots organizers. They let you pass through the front doors, then through a second security door and then to a security station where you’re sternly invited to temporarily surrender any weapons before continuing up a wide staircase leading to the upper floor. It’s only mid-morning but the polished concrete floor is already looking dirtier and more stained than when you passed through yesterday. Compared to then, there’s much more security present.
Same as yesterday, you walk down a long hallway that’s almost classy. The walls are a pleasant cream color and look freshly painted. Most of the trim along the floors and around door is dark-colored wood (or something that looks convincingly like wood) with few dings or chips. The lighting is warm. Everything seems functional. Compared to the rest of Redmond – even compared to the first floor – this place is an oasis.
You arrive at a large, handsome desk at the end of the hallway. The same smartly-dressed female assistant from yesterday (elven, pretty, looks young but who can really tell with elves) recognizes you. “Welcome,” the assistant says in a professional tone. “The Mayor is expecting you. She’s with a constituent right now but I’ll let her know that you’ve arrived.” She invites you to sit in some chairs that aren’t exactly comfortable but which have all four feet on the ground and feel sturdy enough to support a troll.
After 15 or 20 minutes, you’re invited to enter. No ‘constituent’ leaves, so either there wasn’t one in the first place, or they didn’t leave at all, or they left by a different exit. (Or, this being the Sixth World, they snuck out while invisible, or in mist form, or it was a VR meeting, or an astral visitor, or _____.) The assistant opens up a wide set of double-doors that leads into a large office.
The office is much like the hallway outside, in terms of “nicer than expected.” The mayor sits behind a large, ornate desk that looks like real wood, and maybe even carved out of a single tree. It’s heavy and imposing, somewhat unlike the woman who sits behind it, who is slender and graceful. She’s human, maybe of Germanic or Nordic heritage. Her age is indeterminate – young enough to still be idealistic, but old enough to have been mayor for a while. She’s dressed modestly but neatly, maybe like what a middle-class professional would wear to church.
The same man sits in the back corner of the room as yesterday, wearing a ten-thousand-nuyen suit and shoes that probably cost that much again. His legs are crossed and his hand is on his chin as he fixes you with a hard stare.
The Mayor is not as warm or as welcoming as she was yesterday. She does manage a tired smile, but she stays seated and skips the pleasantries. There’s no offer of tea, soykaf, juice, or anything to eat like yesterday. Either she’s had a rough morning so far or she’s unhappy with what happened last night.
“Well?” she asks simply. It’s not an accusation (you don’t think) but nor is she letting on what she does or doesn’t know. For now it’s an open-ended invitation to tell your side of the story.
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Jawsey was glad they’d taken time on the drive over to discuss their time at the Funhouse. Both because they needed to put all the pieces together to give the whole story, and simply so that they were reasonably aligned.
“[Color red]I think it went fairly well, but obviously the proof will be in the punching. Or shooting. Or arson. You know– business as usual for the gangs. Our one concern is that we couldn’t be present at the final meeting, and if Urubia heavily exerted her will then I don’t know how that might have gone.[/color]“
“[Color red]We concluded that the weak link is the Crimson Crush. The Halloween are too cowed by Nightmare at the moment, and the others are too small to make things fall apart on their own. We did other things that we can get to in a minute, but the Crush was our primary focus, as we felt that was where we had the best chance to have an impact.[/color]“
“[Color red]We chose a couple of the more competent Crush members: one we feel is the power behind the throne, and one other that seems to have some sway. We identified the former, Bonita, to various gangs not part of the alliance as the person behind the Ruth’s recent rise, while working to convince the latter that this alliance is misguided and Bonita is taking them to their doom. The goal is to cause a leadership breakdown in the Crush, which should see them break out of the Alliance.[/color]“
He turns to Bobby and AM. “[Color red]There was so much going on that I’m sure I’m missing some points. Anything else about the Crimson Crush that we should mention?[/color]“
Although he felt some sweat on the back of his neck, he thought he’d managed to stay pretty composed so far.
[Spoiler]Composure: 13d6t5 5 [/spoiler]
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“Well, I talked to Bonita and told her that Nightmare is really not a human but a deranged otherworldly entity that would get rid of her sooner or later to absorb the CC into the Weeners. And she seemed to believe that when we later overheard a call she made.
I tried also to rile up the Weeners by appealing to their Anarchist roots against getting stuck in Urubia’s machinations.
But I fear all I got for my efforts is a kill order on my person from Nightmare’s SiC.
After the CC left we staged an attempted molotoving of her and her crew. We don’t know yet if that one worked out.
But whatever else, we did our best to full fill our side of the bargain – at considerable risk for us. So there is that.”
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AM adds “We got the Spyders to leave the alliance since they would not cooperate with the Halloweeners. That part is important because the Spyders are the only force in this alliance whose influence extends beyond Redmond due to their anti-bug goal. So to the very least, we limited Urubia’s ability to exert influence beyond Redmond for the time being.
We used subliminal messages to the Rusty Stellato leader, which saws distrust between him and the Haloweener leader. In that particular case, I connected one of his enemies from the BTL dream with Nightmare. Ideally, I’d use magic for that, but casting spells in the Funhouse is risky due to the Crimson Guard. So I had to improvise. There is science behind these methods, as similar methods worked a century ago before people had magic. If they worked on anybody today, BTL addicts would be the most susceptible.
We also brought the Ancients and plotted the rumor that they are looking to join the alliance. It made a large effect on the Crush because their lieutenants are too smart to ignore the Ancients being there. It also impacted the Death hands, which are natural rivals of the Ancients, and strangely very little influence on the Haloweeners that were nearly wiped out by the Ancients.
I am not sure it was enough to get them to break the deal, the party was very tempting. However, it does causes friction and doubts and makes everyone more suspicious of Urubia’s end game. The Ancients are far bigger than Redmond, so it has to make everyone less trusting.”
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“In summary, four efforts gained some traction: making the Crimson Crush worried about being in an alliance with the Halloweeners, some real attempts to disrupt the Crimson Crush in the longer term by putting a target on their strategist, splitting the Spyders out of the alliance, and an effort to get the Rusty Stiletto leader thrown out for violence, hopefully pulling the Stilettos out of the alliance. Those were not the only efforts we made, but those were the more successful ones.“
“In short, I think we performed as you requested, despite the challenges in breeding mistrust and violence among people who are having their every pleasure fulfilled.“
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“Hm,” the Mayor tuts at the end of the story, her posture slumping a bit in her chair.. “Interesting.” Her expression doesn’t change meaningfully.
She sits up a bit straighter once it’s her turn to talk again.
“An agreement was signed last night. We’re not sure of all the particulars yet, and we’re sorting through the ramifications.
“The Rusted Stilettos are out, it sounds like from your efforts. I’m not sure anyone was sorry to see them go.
“The Spyders are out too. A medium-sized gang. Not one of the major players, but it’s better that they’re out.
“The Crimson Crush have fractured. A small cell has split off, size uncertain, while the rest of the gang is a signatory to the agreement under the leadership of ‘Big Stank’. I’m not familiar with this ‘Bonita’ but her description matches that of someone we refer to as ‘Straight Edge’. Word had reached us of a firebomb attack on the splinter cell, but the speculation had been that it was Halloweeners signalling that it was open season on the non-signatories.” The Mayor gives a thin smile. “I now know that was you instead, but the streets may not know.”
Her mood seems to be improving a bit. Her tone strengthens.
“Our intelligence estimates that faction might be in the range of 6 to 12 gangers, perhaps with additional sympathizers. Not a giant piece of a gang that numbers 100 or more, but a piece nonetheless. We’ll see if their lifespan is measured in hours or days. If they survive, they could be a valuable wedge in dividing the Crush against themselves, or challenging Big Stank’s leadership, and thus fracturing the alliance.” This last thought seems to distract her for a moment. She taps a pen – an anachronism in itself – on her desk, drumming out a little beat as she thinks with a far-away look in her eyes.
The Mayor then returns to the present. She raises her hand to her elven assistant, who is at the door behind you. The assistant enters with three credsticks on a small tray. She brings one to each of you in turn.
“I’m a woman of my word,” the Mayor says. “Here’s the remainder of your fee, minus the advances paid yesterday.”
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Bobby took the his stick and slipped it in his pocket. Finally he was going to get rid of his debt – after paying his taxes, he thought sourly.
“Much obliged.
If you have some more work – just give us a call.”
Bobby tried to say that as friendly as he could, but there was still just a hint of sarcasm in there.
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“I am Good” is AM’s first thought when she hears Sonja’s report. The second thought is “Iktomi was very good to me” when she realizes that Iktomi influenced the Spyders, not her and that the trick on the Stillatos was her paying a tribute to the Trickster thanking him for his help with the Spyders. Heck, the fraction that broke off the Crush is probably Chaz and Bonita – well StraightEagle. She prays silently when she realizes just how much the Trickster has helped her. “Iktomi, you have been so good to me. Thank you.” she thinks, and then a fear crosses her mind to the inevitable future when she experiences Iktom’s trickery from the other side of the ruse.
When she realized that this job paid for rent, and for debt, and then some. AM’s eyes lighten, and she feels this strange sense of happiness that other people feel after they get laid. It has been such a long time for her. One more step out of economic slavery to the Mafia. She smiles at the Mayor and says “Indeed, we thank you for this opportunity.”. She places her business card on the table and says “Feel free to text us next time you need unofficial assets.” there is no cynicism in her voice, AM is genuinely grateful for the opportunity to make that kind of money within a single evening. She does place some emphasis on the texting bit – because she does not want to see cops at her doorstep ever again.
She stands up, shakes the Mayor’s hand, and leaves. Only then she remembers that they have another, less pleasant meeting to attend to. The meeting with Andrew and AM is again worried that it would be a disaster. The good vibes she felt lasted as much as a snowball would last in hell. That made her appreciate Iktomi even more, “he is amused by my misery”. She realizes – and appreciates the irony that the happier the mayor is, the worse it would be for Andrew. On the way out she asks Jawsey “So what is she like? Is she pretty or scary? or what?” clearly meaning Urubia.
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“Thank you for your business, Your Honor — and for playing us straight. After leaving this room, of course none of us will mention this business again, nor have any opinion about you other than ‘fragging politicians.’ But perhaps some time we’ll get to meet again and come away singing your praises.“
As they left Jawsey resisted the urge to asense the mayor or the other presence in the room. Best to be done with dragons, and to simply enjoy the prospect of paying for a hotel room tonight.
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Once they were on their way, AM asked the inevitable question, but Jawsey still had to think for a minute. “Amazing. Thoughtful. Read me like a book, I think — or at least offered me things that I’d dreamed of all my life. If I hadn’t made commitments to the agency, to all of you, I think I’d have accepted her offer. But in saying ‘no’ I realized that there were things I wanted more than the things I’d consciously dreamed of. And she seemed to accept that, so maybe a good judge of human nature? In a lot of ways I feel bad for working against her. As well as terrified, of course.“
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“Sounds like a real temptress. Cudos for staying strong. Another reason for us to look over our shoulders.
Speaking of which, what’s our strategy with Andrew?
I guess we could say that there were no major disturbances at the party and that we did our best with talking to any potential sources of conflict.”Bobby answered while they left for their car.
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“Absolutely — everyone was having a good time. We tell him that we poked around to see if anyone seemed discontented — which we did. We say that we found that the Spyders had expectations and demands that threatened to sink the whole thing, and we found a way to encourage them to leave before they caused trouble. That there were tensions between the Crush and Weeners, of course, but everyone was partying together without incident. All the gang leaders seemed pretty positive when they were heading into the meeting. Well, as positive as gangers are apt to be, and with the asterisk beside the Rusty Stilettos because how do you tell with someone who is on beetles?“
Turning to AM he adds “I guess we should come up with a few words about how the Spyders were going to disrupt things. What demands can we say they were going to make? Everyone had to go bug stomping?“
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AM grins when Jawsey describes Urubia, “Well that is impressive, I envy you, and yet I am glad I never laid eye on her. She feels kind of like a cult leader, I am not sure she gave up. She just knows that the time is not right to recruit you right now. Your social network is still strong, I am not sure how she get the Crimson Guards so loyal but I suspect that she follows the way cults are built, isolating people from outside influence until you can convert them.”
Outside, they enter the car, and only within the safety of the car AM feels free to talk about their approach to Andrew.
AM responds “We’ll focus on the positive and interpret the events for him. The alliance is on. Ancients showed up to stir troubles, but we were there to keep things going. The Rusty Stillatos are bad luck as their leader was tripping on a bad BTL, little we could do about that.
Spyders are paranoid and decided that Nightmare may be a bug spirit. Little we could do about it, they kidnapped me and questioned me about it, and it was quite intimidating. Perhaps it is good that they leave as they made everyone nervous anyhow.
We identified the problematic CC lieutenant and tried to isolate him from the rest, we bought him a drink, talked to him about the history, and helped him speculate. We kept him busy while the rest of his gang was partying. It kept his disruption to a minimum. Without us, he had more time to bring more of his gang to his side. “
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Friday Noon, November 25, 2078, Touristville, Redmond
With your plan in place, you drive to meet Andrew. Or, more accurately, you drive back to HQ and park, because Lotus Rising Restaurant is just a block from where you live.
The weather is damp. Not exactly raining, but there’s an omnipresent mist that helps the cold sink into your bones. Your home isn’t much different from the temperature outdoors, making it hard to warm up even when you’re inside.
The lights of the restaurant (and the surrounding blocks) are still off but Andrew is sitting at a table that’s right by the front window, same as he was yesterday. Whether that’s so everyone can see him (and who he is dining with) or just a practical measure to leverage what little daylight is coming in through the windows is an open question.
Andrew is wearing a suit, although brighter and less conservative than what he was wearing yesterday. His suit is a light grey with almost a silvery sheen to it. His dress shirt is a pale blue and he has a cornflower blue tie on. This may be the first time you’ve seen him wear colors other than white, black, and grey. His posture is upright but relaxed.
Like yesterday, there’s a black cast iron tea pot with a intricate design that make it look like a dragon curling around the kettle, with the spout coming out of the dragon’s mouth. It sits on top of a small stand with a candle underneath it to keep the pot and the tea warm. He sips tea as he waits.
Andrew stands when you enter. On the astral, he looks content, maybe even happy. Or perhaps relieved would be the most accurate description.
“Green-san! Let us toast our success!” he says, pouring tea for you and raising his cup as you reach the table. He sits and smiles.
“An agreement is signed. I have taken the liberty of ordering lunch to help commemorate the occasion.” He sits and crosses his legs, smiling. He invites you to do the same, and then waits for your report.
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“Most obliged,” Bobby mumbled while eyeing the food – it was usually good, for Barrens standards anyway. The hunger wasn’t that bad today, but Bobby was still underweight and wasn’t about to let a free lunch go to waste.
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Jawsey is happy to warm his hands on the tea cup and dream of the hotel he is about to check into, letting AM provide the report — Andrew seems to have a soft spot for her. Maybe her particular features look more japanese than do most native people, or perhaps it is a gender thing, or who knows what else. Whatever it is, Jawsey is happy to let AM do the talking while he listens for any undertones from Andrew.
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AM respectfully bow and answers “Musai-San!” AM answers with warmth in her voice. She knows what Andrew is capable of, and he scares her, but she likes the man and is happy to see him. AM seats, and since Andrew is the senior one she waits for his queue, and would not speak business before he hints to do so. Since the man did not initiate a Smalltalk, AM begins with her report. Trying her best to be polite.
“We attended the party at the Funhouse and kept our eyes and ears open for possible problems. Urubia was a very generous hostess and kept everyone entertained. The first surprise was seeing the Ancients were there, and they were not supposed to attend. Just by being there, they stirred plenty of rumors and got people suspicious. So we used our influence to minimize the damage.
Shortly after we arrived, we split to cover more ground. Bobby went to speak to the Haloweeners, and Jawsey to the Rusted Stillatos. I wanted to feel the death hands as they are enemies of the Ancients and there was a potential for problems there. However, I was kidnapped by the Spyders that liked my spiderweb earings too much. I knew they kidnap people, but I did not think they would dare to do these tricks during the party at the Funhouse. I kept my mouth shut and walked without incident.
They brought me to Widow, and she said many things that I did not understand about bug spirits, and of always being vigilant and strong. It wasn’t simple to talk to her, and I misunderstood her intentions on multiple occasions, and she had to explain things to me. It made conversation awkward, and I felt that she assumes that I share her obsession with bug spirits just because I follow Iktomi the spider spirit.
She heard rumors that Nightmare is a spirit, and when these guys hear such rumors, they assume the worst. She asked me what kind of spirit I think that Nightmare is, and I said fire. Then she replied with obscure and very simplistic saying about how “Spider hates fire” and how “bugs hate fire too”, she took these sayings so seriously that I would not be surprised if she was actually considering her policy according to these abstract sentences. I was relieved that she allowed me to leave unharmed, I was not sure that she would let me leave given their reputation.
She pauses and looks at Andrew, deviating to share a personal expirience with the man, her face shows the fear of the moment. “Andrew, if I meet the Spyders alone under different circumstances, I will need a rescue.”
Yet, AM does not dream of making smalltalk, and keeps the deviation of protocol brief and continues her story. Next, I identified that one of the Crimson Crush lieutenants obsesses about the Ancients’ hidden agendas, and on how they being in the Funhouse changes everything.
I felt that the man was dangerous to the agreement, and I isolated him from the rest of his gang. I invited him for a drink, and he accepted, thinking that I was a prostitute. A lesser woman would have slapped him, but I just laughed and continued to entertain him nevertheless. I kept him talking about history and elves, agreed with everything he said, and told some very racist things about elves. We speculated together about the Ancients, as he believed that all elves are connected so I became an authority just for being an elf. I told him what he wanted to hear, and it kept him busy, preventing him from stirring troubles almost until the leaders went to sign the treaty.
Jawsey and Bobby can probably be more detailed, but to complete the story. Bobby went to the Haloweeners and distracted them from the Ancients in his crude ways. He annoyed them, careful not to trigger violence but enough so that they would not be free to worry about the Ancients. We think it worked, but fear that he may have pissed them off enough to get some unwanted attention from them. Part of the risk of dealing with dangerous people, we’ll need to figure that out.
Jawsey went to see what is up with the Rusted Stillatos that we identified beforehand as the weakest link because they are chaotic, and challenging to deal with. The Stillatos leader was immersed in the BTL dream was barely aware of his surroundings, and did not fully sober up until the signing event. I doubt he even remembers talking to Jawsey.
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Andrew listens politely and attentively throughout AM’s recap, occasionally offering a silent nod, or a quiet “yes,” or – at as she recounts her conversation with Chaz – he even offers a low “very clever,” and the description of Bobby’s “crude ways” elicits a belly laugh.
An astute observer – or one supplemented by astral perception – would notice that he stiffens a bit and his face falls during the discussion of the Spyders. But when AM finishes her telling of the tale, he raises his tea cup in tribute.
“An agreement is signed, and so I trust the days of gang violence will soon be behind us. There may be some … tidying up to do first.” He waves his hand airily. “The Spyders are an unfortunate omission to the alliance. While their interests and passions do not necessarily conflict with our vision, they are …” – he searches for phrasing – “more potent than many realize. It is simply that their energies are directed in such a way that their competence is not often obvious.”
He sighs. This part seems to be weighing on him. But then he puts on a brave face.
“But the Rusted Stilettos will not be missed. And, in truth, they are likely incapable of honoring an agreement, or even understanding an agreement, such are the depths of their disease.” He shakes his head sadly, but his aura suggests that he is not actually sad.
“There is a splinter faction within the Crimson Crush, but evidence suggests that it should be small. In fact, rumor has it that the Halloweeners have already moved to contain and eliminate it. Perhaps they will succeed shortly! But, if not, tell me… what are your thoughts and feelings on liquidation? Well-compensated, of course.”
His eyes flicker toward Bobby. You understand that he’s trying to tactfully broach the subject of potentially hiring you for wetwork.
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Jawsey’s sympathies are solidly with the splinter faction. The agency had used their own good sense against them, a tactic that never would have worked on the rest of the Crush. Plus the more of a fight the faction puts up, the more the Crush will be weakened, both in resources and in morale and faith in their leaders. He even allows himself a passing dream of that faction making common cause with the surviving Brain Eaters (he know that is unrealistic, but it would be nice).
But all he says is “perhaps the others are feeling more ambitious, but after two nights without electricity and without much sleep, I think I am due to go check into somewhere with lights, and hot water, and a warm bed. Arguably I am spoiled by the pleasures of civilization, but I can tell that even after so little time of roughing it I am not doing so well.”
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AM smiles when Andrew mentions gang violence ceasing. “That would be good for us. Yes.” When Andrew mentions liquidation, AM realizes that she is okay with that. First, most of these gangers would kill her in a pinch, and second, it felt good to get back at the people that filled her house with bullet holes and burned her roof. If the gangs wanted to wipe each other – AM was fine with that – as long as she was not part of their nonsense.
Then again, there were practical problems with that. The mayor knew too much about their activities and she had the police on her lap. Going so bluntly against her interests may get the SIS unwanted police attention as retribution. There was also the moral issue, while nobody had objections to killing a murderer – that act was more street justice than an assassination. Crossing that line required some heart to heart conversations among the SIS, and perhaps not everyone was comfortable with that. AM realizes that it is not something they could agree to do on the spot.
“We’ll have to think about it Musai-San.” she says, not wanting to appear negative but also indicating that they are not ready to make the decision quite yet.
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Bobby grunted. True, he had killed – and not necessarily in self defense. Getting paid to do so… Well that wasn’t really the challenge was it? Having the Yakuza know you killed for them was much more of a problem. That’s how they got you for good.
“To be honest, I’m not a fan of that kind of work. Wetwork is for professionals that leave the country afterwards – or for chipheads with nothing left to lose. Revenge is a bitch in the Barrens. Not to mention we could lose our license. Better to leave it to the psychos.”
Bobby explained in unusual somber tone.
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