Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Faction Happy Life Day, Ya Filthy Animals [Darkwire]

ChBB5ey.png


"Corpo Claus keepin' all the goodies for his rich kids, we street kids and shadowrunners deserve the nice things, too! If the only way to get them is to steal, then that's what we're gonna do!"
Life day was almost here and the Corporate Authorities of Denon were ready to celebrate. Right now, they were sequestered with cocktails -- but soon, they would be reveling in festivities. The best food. The best gifts. The best Life Day decor. Little did they know... that the Shadowrunners wanted to celebrate Life Day, too. And they wanted to celebrate in style.

Join in and raid the Corpo party before it gets started! The venue is under moderate guard, but the Corpos have yet to arrive. Take whatever you can -- Corpo gifts are rumored to be swanky this year. Don't forget to take some of the food, drinks, and whatever else you can to light up the holiday for your fellow Shadowrunners! Then, rendezvous back at 'the warehouse' for a Life Day party! If you're not joining the raid, you can get an early start on the party and decorate -- and maybe build us a nice fire.

4S5ImD3.png

Ruby trudged down the sidewalk, boots slipping every now and then on the dirty city slush that had accumulated. On her head was a ratty stocking cap, something she'd found next to a dumpster (but hey, it was better than nothing). Her blue eyes were set and narrow as she lugged a bag of coal in one gloved hand and a bag of dirty socks in the other. Never in her life had she had a Merry Life Day, never. There'd never been warm greetings or gifts of any kind or good food to be shared.

This year, things were going to be different.

Darkwire was the closest thing she had to a family. The Shadowrunners needed to stick together. And what better way to build up the camaraderie than... a Life Day Party? Well, it was easier said than done, considering the Corpos kept all the nice things for themselves. Instead of shivering in the streets, they were warm with toasty fires and rich with presents. It was their turn to wake up with coal in their stockings -- Ruby was going to make sure of that.

Pausing, she wiped the back of her hand across her face, smearing coal across her fair complexion in the process. She sniffed, then kept on walking towards the party venue -- the lovely ball room of a local hotel. Of course, there'd be guards -- but there would also be a lot of staff (caterers, interior decorators, and assistants putting out gift bags). Besides, the lobby of the hotel was open enough to slip in without a ton of attention. Well, maybe for someone that wasn't cover in coal.

As for Ruby, she'd skip the main entrance and head for the back.

And she'd keep a sharp eye out for any friends... or foes.
 
The man known only as Doc Painless was well into the op now. He slid silently around the walls of the darkened building, his leatheris jacket hiding the gleam of his cybernetic arms from view. His ocular augmentations calculated exact distances to the millimeter, the data running through his enhanced nervous system to aim his hands with inhuman precision. No one could have been as swift in completing his task, nor as precise. And that was good, for his task was vital to the success of the Shadowrunners' mission that fateful night.

Again and again he moved through the shadows, a thin silver trail the only sign of his passage. He canvassed every level of the building, moving past every railing, around every support column, leaving no inch of the place unscathed. He was an artist as a surgeon, and he brought that same skill and technical flair to this, his designated role in the operation. His reinforced legs and bolstered cardiovascular system kept weariness at bay until, at last, he stepped back, secure in the knowledge that he had fully completed his assignment.

Yes, he had hung the tinsel to perfection.

Looking around at the Life Day decorations now dangling from every rusted wall of the old warehouse, the Doc favored the room with a smile. As much as he loved seeing Corpos get taken down a peg, he knew his limits. He was no fighter, hacker, or thief; he would just get in the way. Better for him to man the home front, getting everything ready for the tremendous party they'd have to celebrate their silly but symbolic run to steal the corporate banquet. And if some of the runners came back blasted or bleeding, well, he'd be on hand to help.

In the original Wookiee tradition, Life Day was about the Tree of Life. The trunk always had new buds growing on it, so it was a time to celebrate newborns and new friends. It also still carried old, dead branches, holding them up even though they no longer grew. That meant it was a time to remember friends and family who were gone, and to celebrate the lasting impacts of their lives. It wasn't a time to grieve, but a time to think back fondly, and to toast to those who hadn't made it this far - but would've been glad that you did.

The Doc had a lot of dead branches in his personal Tree of Life; after all, he hung around with shadowrunners, and they weren't exactly known for living to a ripe old age. So he poured himself a glass of varactyl eggnog, smuggled in at great expense and spiked with just a drop of Corellian whiskey, and raised it to each of them in turn, whispering their names to keep their memory alive. He sipped from the cup as he moved around the warehouse once more, twisting strings of red and green lights around the silver tinsel he'd already hung.

"Be safe, shadowrunners," he whispered, smiling. "We'll have a hell of a party for you when you get home."
 
Ever since he had left Balmorra, almost 2 decades ago, Gray had not celebrated Life Day. It didn't feel right to do it after his mother, and beloved servants, had died. And with only a depressed dad as company in the years after, it was hard finding joy in anything. But even though there had been a long time since he had celebrated it, the fond memories from the Life Days of his youth were still present.

Gray had heard something about some Shadowrunners who were planning on stealing Life Day from the corpo-leaders. At first, he hadn't been interested. Why get involved in something he didn't care about? But after some time to think, he had changed his mind. Why? He didn't know. Maybe it was because he felt he belonged in Darkwire. Or because he finally again had people he cared about. Or it could just be because he wanted to spread chaos to the corpos, and get some cookies and treats as a bonus.

For this occasion, Gray had dressed up in the most formal suit he could find. His plan was to sneak stuff right from under their noses, from the inside. Finding out where the party would be was easy. And getting inside the hotel was also easy. The problems came with the receptionist. Trying to act as important as he could, he looked down at his datapad, and tried to walk right past her. "Yes, yes, I'm the decorations overseer," he mumbled as he tried to make his way towards the elevator. "Decorations overseer? I've heard of no such thing, especially not schedueled for today." The receptionist moved in front of Gray. "Who sent you?"

Gray was thinking as fast as he could about excuses that could work. After a couple of seconds, he slowly turned around, putting on the most insulted and astonished face he could. "What? I couldn't quite hear you there," he said in a very stern way. "Did you just question my arrival here?" He could see that this had taken to woman by surprise. "Do you have any idea who I am? My uncle is one of Luminous Sun's most trusted venue managers, and my brother serves in Marlene Starlight's personnal guard. I have been personally asked to make sure the party that is to be held in this sorry excuse for a hotel, is perfect. Now, will you let me do my job, or will I have to call my uncle, and have him explain to Luminous Sun how you are interfering with her business?" If there was one trick Gray knew, it was to sound as important as possible, and name drop someone even more important.

The receptionist looked completly baffled after this, and very insecure.
"N-no, there is no need to call anyone. I...I'll just check one more time, if this has indeed been schedueled. It was probably just overlooked."
 

Jennifer Blanchard

Guest
J
Bouncing around the galaxy was only so good if you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty. For Jenn, well, since she was freed of her time with the Techno Union, it wasn’t exactly her favorite thing, getting her hands dirty. The girl always preferred to work as part of a team, and well, she always seemed to find herself working with a team. But she was still up and coming in the stage after a few years away. The Corporate Authority was here, and she was not really keen on what the locals were calling corpos. Sure, she’d been one once upon a time, but wel, no longer.

Her hacking had found the message for the Shadowrunners. “C’est bon.” She whispered to no one in particular. Maybe it could help her network. The bottle-redhead smirked as she closed her terminal, and let it run its own cache deleting program.

A red leather jacket, black denims, and anckle boots and she was good to get out. She had credits from a previous gig, and a few accounts she skimped off the top of. But making it to the party? That was not something she was going to miss. Stepping out from her back-alley loft, she went down to the lower levels and pulled her swoop, a pearlescent purple, fit for a bounty hunter, but used more for spy games and hacking anything.

She was a face to her teams normally, but also the hacker. A tricky life. Still, she knew her way around corpo functions well enough. Pulling through the traffic ways, Jenn made it to the hotel, tapping on her wrist top datapad, her jacket took a moment to shift its color, blending in with the hired help.

It’d give her a few minutes, and let her get inside. Grabbing a box, she followed suit.
 
While most of the Shadowrunners rightfully made themselves as inconspicuous as possible, Yula made it a point to stand out. Clad in a dress that could barely be called a subtle nod to Life Day and pair of obnoxious, over-the-top glittery boots, the Zeltron had no problem leaning into her heritage for cover.

And boy, did she lean into it hard.

Darkwire had enough help when it came to infiltration via the backdoor, which was why she and Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn had made the decision to waltz in from the front. Quite literally.

“What do you mean we’re not on the guest list?” Yula’s face twisted into a mock pout as she glanced at Ripley, the two arm in arm, subtly raising her brow to the other woman before turning back to the security guard who’d denied them entry into the main venue.

“Sorry ladies, but neither of you are on the list. I can’t let you in.”


Of course they hadn’t been on the list. They’d given him aliases.

“Oh…but it’s Life Day!” Yula feigned disappointment. A waiter floated by with a tray of champagne flutes, and Yula snatched one before he could protest. “At least let me have one little drink, in the spirit of the holidays—oops!” In taking a large gulp of the liquid, some of it had ‘accidentally’ spilled onto the front of her dress.

“Oh, silly me!” She giggled.

---

“What a fething idiot.” Yula snickered to Ripley as the pair entered the main event. Her tone had dropped a few octaves, losing the saccharine touch she’d used on the guard. “Swanky place. Who needs this much of anything, really?”

She was eyeing the plump Life Day hams resting on the far end of the banquet table.
 
Corporate shills were his least favorite kind of people.

Alkor worked extensively with Illyns Phaygus of Balmorran Arms for years, but the man was never more than arms length away from him as a mentor or associate. He would be hard pressed to call him a 'friend.' When he became inconvenient to the company, the Executive and his friends conspired to undermine the exile's majority shares through a forced buyout. The meager sum he got, when compared with the net worth of the company and their stock prices was nothing short of a slap in the face.

Not that he needed the company anymore. It was just another sore subject after he'd decided to ghost the Confederacy. His morals certainly weren't upstanding or holier than anyone's, but the machinations of creatures who sold their soul for control and power didn't interest him. Continuing the farcical family charade of the Verd house only disconnected him further from what it really meant to have one. He'd blown through every chance he had to be close to anyone.

Credits made everything hurt a little less.

Alkor had never been an affectionate man. He knew duty, and he knew results. Everything short of that always seemed insignificant. Until it didn't anymore.

Now, he kept better contact with his cousin where he could; but the people he wanted to talk to, he'd burned every bridge with. That culmination of reasons gave him more than enough impetus to kick the proverbial door down.

"Sir, please," the woman protested as he hugged closer to the door frame and offered her the scoundrel classic- a winning Corellian grin. "I'm on duty; as much as I'd love to go for a ride with you, I can't let you in. The list is very exclusiv-"

"Shhh," he pressed a finger to her lips. "You hear that? That's the sound of possibility, lady," he drawled in that trademark Corellian drawl that made her shiver. "You let me in, I'll make a few rounds, we'll hop in my freighter and I'll take you away from this place."

"...that's a tempting offer," she admitted.

"It's not an offer, it's a promise," he winked. "Pad six delta, down the west wing." Alkor learned young to lie, and the sparkle in the younger woman's eyes told him she was buying it. "Meet me there after the party, I'll get you to Coruscant, Naboo, you name it."

"Alright, alright, but if anyone asks, you got in while I wasn't looking." He nodded. Easy enough. One lie, two lies- as soon as he flew out, the web broke down anyway. She might be out of a job, but he had his own livelihood to consider. "I'll see you later, gorgeous," she threw him her own conspiratorial wink.

He forced a smile.

Once he slipped past, he sighed. "I'll never understand why that works," he muttered. "But thanks all the same, Ev."
 
He arrived on Denon in a shuttle provisioned by Prefsvelt Command. The possibility of an agreement with the Corporate Authorities meant more money for the Imperium, and that wasn't something he would pass up; if the opportunity arose, at least. If it didn't, well, Enlil had not been to a party in a very long time. It was a nice reprieve from his duties, if only a short one.

For the occasion he wore his favorite Ra'Kathan garb, a flowing garment that covered his torso while still allowing his torso to breathe. "Enlil of Ketaris," he gave his name to a woman as he reached the entryway. It was odd; for some reason, she seemed flustered.

Her attention snapped back from the room beyond as he spoke. "Oh, uh, yes! Right this way, sir!"

When the woman gestured that he could pass, he nodded his thanks and moved immediately for the wine table. They had sweet whites, bubbly, and... ah, yes. A hearty red. He took one of the glasses in hand, neck between ring and middle fingers, and turned to the crowd.

Oddly, many of them seemed... strangely dressed. He blinked. "Modern society will always baffle me," he muttered as he lifted the drink to his lips. It had that lightly balsamic flavor he enjoyed so much.

And he almost spat it when he saw her.

"...Yula?" he questioned, incredulous. "What are you wearing?"

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
Tags: Yula Perl Yula Perl | Enlil Enlil

Ripley couldn't seem to stop pulling on the edges of the dress she wore, hoping maybe one of the tugs would make it somehow cover much more than it did. She had outright denied the ridiculous elf costume Yula had originally suggested, yet somehow the other zeltron had talked her into this. Her head pivoted as the woman chatted up the security card, taking note of everything. A maintenance closet to her left, cameras on the right. The knight felt wholly exposed, and not just because of the clothing. It seemed bizarre to just walk in the door and pretend that they were supposed to be here, yet that is exactly what they had done.

Her gaze was pulled back to Yula at her squeak, and when Ripley spotted the stain that coated her chest, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. A nervous smile flickered across her face as she attempted some semblance of normalcy.

"Oh gosh, you're so clumsy!!"

slQCnMc.png

“What a fething idiot.” Yula snickered to Ripley as the pair entered the main event. Her tone had dropped a few octaves, losing the saccharine touch she’d used on the guard. “Swanky place. Who needs this much of anything, really?”

Ripley chuckled at the comment, highly amused at how that had went down.

"I can't believe that worked! Kind of genius, though."

Cobalt eyes scanned the area once more at her second comment. It was a pretty luxurious place; marble floors, silk table clothes, everything done to the nines.

"You'd think they pay for more competent employees, with all that was spent of this." The knight stated, gesturing towards the grand room.

"...Yula?" he questioned, incredulous. "What are you wearing?"

Ripley's eyes went wide at the remark, turning to find the man who spoke of her friend. Chit. Hopefully, it wasn't anyone who'd rat them out, but the man looked much too elegant to run with their crowd.
 
Ruby went in the back and found a conveniently placed janitor's cart. Slipping her bags onto the hover-cart, she whistled as she pushed it through the back corridors. This was probably fine, she supposed she looked the part of a janitor. It was dirty work, for sure – but it was more honest than any Corpo.

As she passed by a door, she placed her ear up against the cold metal surface. Feet were hurrying about inside. “Guests! Guests are already arriving and not an appetizer in sight! Get these out the door, now!”

She froze.

Guests coming in already? Wait, what... this was way ahead of schedule. Maybe those Corpos had already had their fill of booze? Ruby's gloved hands gripped the cart tight as she pushed it with renewed frenzy towards the service door of the ball room. Bursting in with a clatter, she was not super surprised to see people. But when her eyes, smudged liner and all, squinted... she made out a couple of familiar faces.

“Yula?” She cringed at the Zeltron's outfit. There were some others there, too. She vaguely recognized the other Zeltron woman, but couldn't remember if they'd ever met. Probably not. And the two men in the room, she had no idea... She didn't want to interrupt the conversations already in progress, so Ruby grabbed her bags and started stuffing coal into the dirty socks.


Those already inside: Yula Perl Yula Perl , Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn , Enlil Enlil , Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris
 
While the young ran the shadows, pulling off holiday mischief and embarrassing the corpos, the old readied the roost for their return.

Well, older, anyway. Nobody was sure exactly how old the Doc was, and he seldom talked about himself, but he certainly wasn't ancient. It was hard to get a read on his age. A lot of it was due to the cybernetic enhancements all over him; synthskin didn't wrinkle the way the real thing did, and that artificial smoothness made him seem younger. But there was a world-wise, world-weary way about him that only came from experience, and where his real, original body showed through, it was a lot more careworn. But maybe that was more hard living than age.

If you could get a straight answer out of him, though, you'd learn he was just about the only member of Darkwire who'd seen the far side of thirty. Among shadowrunners, who tended to live fast and die young, that did make him the old man of the group. But the Doc embraced the role of Team Dad. He was much, much better at watching out for and taking care of runners than running with them, and that suited him just fine. He patched his people up when they needed it, and gave them advice, and worried about them when they were out on the job.

It was just who he was. Might as well lean into it.

Sipping down the rest of his spiked eggnog, the Doc bustled around the warehouse, making sure that everything was ready. The next important task: getting the hot chocolate just right. Getting the cocoa pods hadn't been easy; the stuff had been rare throughout the galaxy since the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, when seven out of eight planets producing the beans had been vongformed, their ecosystems lost. In the wake of scarcity, demand had dropped off, and agribusiness had seen little reason to quickly reseed it to new worlds after the war.

But it'd been a vital part of Life Day festivities back when the Doc was a kid, and the warehouse had a draft, so it was doubly essential.

The Doc firmly believed that, if something was worth doing, it was worth putting in the effort to do it well. Sure, you could get premade cocoa out of a pre-packaged nozzle, but where was the art in that? No, to do it right, you had to start from scratch. The back alley medic carefully fed the pods into the multiprocessor, rapidly drying and powdering the cocoa. Milk slowly warmed on the inbuilt kettle, and the Doc added the powder by hand - along with a sprinkle of tang bark and orchid bean extract, to contrast and bring out the flavor of the chocolate.

Some would top the mugs with a dollop of mallow paste. Not the Doc. He'd tracked down actual marshmallows, three to each cup.

As they finished brewing, each mug was carefully placed on a warming plate, to keep the liquid toasty for whenever the holiday heisters got back. The Doc set a mug for each of the runners he knew about, plus a few extra; you never knew when a runner might pull in a stranger they'd picked up out there on their mad adventures, and he wanted to make sure there was enough for everyone. Generosity was an important part of Life Day, as was openness to new friends. He made sure there were enough beans left to brew seconds, too, just in case.

The Doc nodded at the multiprocessor, satisfied. The heisters would bring the food, if all went well. Time to see about that tree.
 
“You’d be surprised how often that works.” Yula was absolutely not above using her Zeltron attributes to sway a situation, and it helped that she had a ridiculous amount of confidence and zero shame. “I still maintain that the elf outfit would have been better, but you look really cute.” She grinned, recalling the earlier conversation where Yula had tried to force the striped stockings and pointy-eared hat unto the Jedi.

She followed Ripley’s gaze from the chiseled floors to the fancy curtains. “There’s always some expense spared at these things. Hopefully not the food.” At the mention of employees, Yula locked onto the kohl-lined eyes of Ruby for a split second, noting the questioning look. She winked in response.

The stylishly dressed Zeltron and her festive harlot friend were garnering looks, some positive and some no-so-positive.

What threw Yula off was the appearance of an old friend. “Enlil?!” She exclaimed in equal parts surprise and joy. She hadn’t seen His Royal Blondness since their OPA Judge days. “What are you doing here?” His outfit may have given her a clue, seeing as how his chest was partially covered. A rarity for the King.

“This,” She swept both hands along the outline of her torso for emphasis. “Is a traditional Zeltros Life Day outfit.” It may as well have been. “You look woefully underdressed for the occasion, En.” To make a point, she removed the flashing felt antlers from her head, and placed them on his. “There.”

As her shock faded and she procured another glass of wine—for drinking, she gestured towards Enlil. “Ripley, this is Enlil. He’s an old friend of mine. Enlil, this is Ripley.”

She spoke as casually as if they were discussing the suns of Tatooine. “We’re here to steal things.”

Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn | Enlil Enlil | Ruby Jaxx Ruby Jaxx
 
"...I have not been briefed on any such traditions," he admitted. It was possible that his advisors had not anticipated Zeltron association with the Corporate Authorities, and eschewed the thought entirely. He had to believe Yula at her word, and she was a good friend.

When she placed the comical headdress on him, he blinked. "You are sure this is traditional?" he asked, suddenly feeling skeptical. "This seems inane and frivolous. And I for one feel overdressed."

At least she had discovered the fine culture of wine, he noticed as she indulged in a glass. "I was invited," he explained. "A diplomatic guest. From Ketaris."

When she introduced Ripley, he offered his hand to her palm up. "I am pleased to meet you, Ripley. I see you feel overdressed for the occasion as well, given your outfit."

The King paused when she spoke and considered her words. Yula knew him well enough to know how he felt about the importance of law, order, and structure. For her to brazenly admit to such behavior meant that she understood the consequences of them; and yet, he could not help but to feel conflicted. He frowned.

"Yula."

 
He perused the tables with some disinterest. Honestly, Alkor never indulged in food quite so extravagant or rich; so he had no idea what was "good" and what wasn't. The gig said to pilfer as much as possible, but he had to be pragmatic. Prioritize based on taste.

Okay, so I'll try...

"Sir, that outfit..." Alkor whirled round, a slab of meat hanging over his lip. He slurped the rest of it into his mouth and gulped it down, then realized his mistake. Hacking loudly, he doubled over as he tried to clear the food from his airway, gagging loudly as he did. The man who approached him looked on in horror.

After the beef came back up, he looked around, made eye contact with the other man and promptly spat. The food hit the floor with a wet smack. "Sorry, I have an aversion to anything that tries to kill me," he explained with a laugh.

The garçon, however, remained unamused. "Clearly," the man replied. "As I was saying, this event is white collar and your dress is quite apparently... not."

Alkor gave a shrug. "Look bud, I'm allergic to anything that costs me more than a few hundred creds, I'm doing you a favor. You don't want to have to treat a guy when he's asphyxiating, I'll bet."

"You have a great deal of health problems," the other man jeered mirthlessly. "And I have my own problems as well, which will include unemployment if I fail to remove you from this event in short order. If you would please cooperate-"

"I'll level with you bud," Alkor replied. The hand on his hip had shifted slightly, and his greatly oversized blaster was now apparent on his hip. When the waiter's eyes fell on it, he went pale. "You forget that you saw me and I'll leave on my own, when I'm ready. I got a job to do myself, and I'll be out of it if I don't deliver."

He dropped his cloak, which fell back into place and obscured his weapon enough that he could walk around unopposed- unless someone really tried to look for it. The waiter turned and hurried toward away, but Alkor was a realist.

It wouldn't be long until security got involved after he'd brandished his weapon. The man was going to report it, little schutta that he was. Alkor pulled a sack from under his cloak and started sweeping food and bottles of alcohol into it rapidly. If they broke, well, whiskey soaked ham and beef would be good, probably... right?

"Hey!" a voice called toward him. Alkor turned and saw the guard rushing toward him.

"Time for me to get out of here," he murmured as he twisted the sack and slung it over one shoulder. "Happy Life day, big guy!" he yelled as he broke into a run.
 
Last edited:

Jennifer Blanchard

Guest
J
Even in her Techno Union days she couldn’t stand the corporates. Maybe she should have done something then, or something now. But well, she was. Sort of. She wasn’t exactly pleased that it was stealing from the rich to… give to the poor? Maybe? It felt like some folk hero poodoo, but it would be a good start. At least as far as her career with Darkwire was concerned, right? It would be better if she could get her start in with a bang, but well, most of her wares were taken when she left the Techno Union space in a hurry. She left with her implants, datapads, and a few datacards about what she could do.

And her Force training, mustn’t forget that. Still… The bottle redhead grinned as she nodded to another one of the hired help, bringing the box inside. “I think I just need to hit the ‘fresher. Be right out.” She then mouthed look at this place. And as the other woman said something off handed about how nice it must be, Jenn nodded and slipped away.

She saw a few others hustling around, muttering something about people coming in as she opened one of the hallway doors. A quick gesture on her cybernetic hand and her jacket was now black. She looked enough like a corporate slack now, she figured. From her side bag, she pulled out her datapad and a broken headset as she backed herself into one of the offices.

Now… which terminal… eeny meenie, miney, mo, catch a bantha by the… horn… Winner.
She sat down and got to work.
 
Shortly after Gray the receptionist had gone to check the scheduel again, more people began coming in behind Gray. Guests, arriving much earlier than expected. It could make the whole plan fall apart. Or give Gray an excellent chance to get in. He looked over at the receptionist, and as he had hoped, her focus had changed towards the growing crowd. And without making a sound, Gray slipped away towards the ball room.

Waiters, decoraters, planners and all manners of other workers were inside, hurrying to make the room ready for the party. A few of them seemed to notice Gray, but no one stopped to question why he was there. Probably the clothes making him look important enough. Making sure to not seem out of place, he walked over to the buffét table, where the chefs and waiters were putting down what food they could. Before coming there, he had fastened small bags inside his jacket. And, making sure no one were looking, he snatched a platter of cookies, and placed them in the bags. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And unfortunately, it was all he managed to take before the guests came through the doors.

It didn't take long before the room was swarming with guests. Alone, Gray didn't stand a big chance in stealing this party from the corpos. So instead, he tried to look as important as possible, while scanning the room for any familiar faces.

Some of the most notorious of hiw fellow Shadowrunners would obviosuly not be able to attend this feast, as they would be discovered at once. So, unfortunately, it took some time before Gray saw someone he knew. But in the most unlikely place, and disguise, did Gray see someone he knew. Posing as a janitor, away from the main area, was Ruby Jaxx Ruby Jaxx .

"Ahem, excuse me, janitor," said Gray in the most stuck-up tone he could. "I believe one of the guests here wishes to take a swim in the pool, in the other room. Sadly, she is lacking a bathing suit. Is there anything you can do about it?" He spoke loudly, so the nearest guests would know why he was speaking to the "janitor". But at the same time, he was reffering to the way he had met the dark haired woman. Moving closer and lowering his voice, he continued talking. "It is good to see you again. Up to no good, I see?"

People inside: Yula Perl Yula Perl | Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn | Enlil Enlil | Alkor Centaris Alkor Centaris | Jennifer Blanchard
Soon to get supplies for party: Doc Painless Doc Painless
 
Ruby's eyes widened slightly as a rather rude voice called for her – the janitor. Spinning around, open-mouthed, she turned to face Gray. Her mouth shut immediately, lips pressing into a thin line as he spoke loudly about bathing suits. Ruby may have visibly flinched, still embarrassed about that whole thing where Gray had purchased a swimsuit for her. It had gone unused, but Ruby had it stashed safely away – still wrapped gently in the tissue and shopping bag. She wouldn't tell anyone, but sometimes she took it out just to look at. Not that she'd ever wear it.

“Mmhmm,” she answered in a flat tone. But her expression softened slightly. After all, Gray was one of the few people she could call a friend. “Gotta give the Corpos their gifts.”

She held up a dirty sock that was now stuffed with black coal. The smudges on her face would now make much more sense. Ruby hung a few of the ratty socks up on the fire place mantle and tossed the fancy stockings onto her janitor cart. The plush velvet stockings were full – chocolates, gift vouchers (10 authority dollars to Spacebucks, included), and other little stuff.

“Ham,” Ruby uttered next, shuffling past Gray and to the table of food that had just been put out. She lifted one of them and placed it on the cart, too. And her movements became more frantic.

“Someone's gotta notice we're here,” she said, eyes flickering back to Gray. “Better hurry.”

Gray Venasir Gray Venasir , Yula Perl Yula Perl , Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn , Enlil Enlil
 
Finding an actual tree on a planet long since paved over hadn't been easy... but the Doc didn't half-ass anything.

Sure, you could go out and buy a pre-decorated Life Day tree. There were a dizzying array of them for sale on the mall levels of Sakedo Tower: trees with inlaid lighting circuitry that flashed red and green along the branches, trees with integrated hologram projectors that appeared to swirl with snowflakes, trees that slowly rotated on their stands to show off their glitzy ornaments, and a thousand other fancy options. But all of them had been slapped together in underlevel sweatshops, and giving the Corpos money for them seemed against the spirit of the holiday.

No, the Doc had been determined from the get-go to get a real, live tree to stack all of the stolen gifts under, whatever it took. It'd been quite a search. There were no forests left on Denon, and there was little demand for tree farms - who built anything out of wood anymore, when durasteel and permacrete were cheaper and stronger and longer-lasting? Only the people who valued form over function, and for whom money was no barrier to desire; y'know, the same group of people that Darkwire's shadowrunners were currently busy robbing.

But the Doc's tree "heist" had been a little different. Despite his augmentations, he was no runner - and trying to sneak around while carrying the twenty-foot tree he'd selected, if you even could carry it, would be pretty much impossible for the best of them. So the Doc did what he did best (well, second-best; he was a fething good medic): he worked his connections, reaching out through the wide network of people he'd met in the course of his work, calling in favors. And one of them had been his in to District Nine, and the old Corrigan Nature Reserve.

Back when the old Galactic Republic had controlled Denon, the Corrigan Nature Reserve had been a public park, open so that all citizens of District Nine could enjoy a little green in their lives. Naturally, that kind of magnanimity had not survived the rise of the Corporate Authority. Admission into the Reserve was now so prohibitively expensive that none of the locals could afford to visit - but a shuttleport had been added at the top of the facility, so that CEOs and their families could fly past the squalor of the city and enjoy the now-exclusive park undisturbed.

The Doc looked up at the tall, broad Brylark tree his contacts had liberated and smiled. It'd been one of twenty such trees en route to be planted in the Reserve... but a few holocalls had changed all that. A bribed dockworker here, a hacked cargo shuttle there, and suddenly one of the twenty had just dropped off the cargo manifests... and into this warehouse. It only seemed fair to get a tree from Kashyyyk for a Wookiee holiday, and a 400-meter Worshyr would be just a tad too big. No, this one was perfect, both in size and in what it represented.

The Brylark Tree was famously strong, standing proud and unbowed. That was the way Doc saw Darkwire's runners. His people.

It took an hour, a tall stepladder, and a lot of cursing to hang the tree with lights, tinsel, and ornaments, but when the Doc stepped back to admire his handiwork, he found himself satisfied. The tree, twice as tall as the one he'd decorated with his family too many years earlier, was the perfect centerpiece to the cavernous warehouse, filling the middle of the space without making it feel crowded. It still needed a tree-topper, though, something to crown the ensemble - preferably a feth you gesture to the Corpos. Maybe a runner would find something.

A cold breeze blew through the warehouse, reminding the Doc of his next step: setting up the bonfire.
 
Ripley chuckled at the remarks thrown between Yula and Enlil. Obviously, she had misjudged the man.

"Come on now, no chiding. We just want a little trouble for life day."

As if she had reminded herself where they were, the zeltron's eyes flickered around once more.

"It's very nice to meet you, but I'll leave you two be. I'd like to, uh, procure our supplies, then get out of here quickly. These snobs may not know how to party, but we do. You should join us, Enlil." She gave the pair a wink before strutting off towards the tables of food.

A quick glance to make sure none of the corpos or guards were watching, and she began filling her handbag with various treats.

Enlil Enlil Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
Yula smiled politely at Ripley, hoping that the woman’s words were able to penetrate on some level to Enlil. There was no mistaking the tone in his voice, and Yula reflexively braced for a scolding.

“She’s right, you know.” Her genuine smile turned a little cheeky while registering the image of the regal King wearing a pair of obnoxious flashing antlers. Her eyes softened, just a tad. “It would do you good to cut loose every once in a while, En.”

They’d parted ways after the Judges’ power had waned in the Outer Rim, but Yula still counted Enlil among her close friends. “These people have so much, they won’t miss a few hams. We’re not putting anyone out of business or starving a family.” She spread her arms wide, gesturing to the obscene opulence as whole. Enlil had always been a firm believer in law and order, and he didn’t bend easily.

She looped her arm around his own. “Why don’t you head to the afterparty with us—I’d like to hear about what you’ve been up to. It’s been a while, Enlil.”

Enlil Enlil Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn
 
"Yula, it's the principle," he said as he gestured toward the table. "They may not need it, but taking things without permission is wrong." The King was a firm believer in Noblesse Oblige, the duty of those with power to serve those without it; but he was also a believer in upholding the pillars of law. More than that, though, he cared about Yula- and he didn't want to see her go down a bad road.

Though, she was already here, and defending her actions. He had to stand firm in his convictions, even if he hated seeing her opposed to him. "I'd gladly offer to pay for your friends' party through sound, lawful means," he told her, "I'm not above giving what I have to ensure others have full bellies, regardless of what the others invited to this party might feel; but I don't..."

He stopped. There was raw emotion in his voice, and he recognized it. Precious few people could evoke that response from him, and he felt his chest tightening with every word. It hurt to see her like this.

But not letting her go free hurt him just as badly, because he knew she would never be happy with a lavish lifestyle. He exhaled audibly.

When she looped his arm, he felt like he couldn't breathe. His mind barely registered anything, and he looked down at her arm, then up at her. She knew he came from a life where no one touched him on pain of death. She knew, and she wasn't afraid.

He closed his eyes.

"...I've missed you, Yula Perl," he admitted at last. "But I made a commitment to the Sovereign Imperator to represent his interests at this party, and that supercedes any personal whims I might harbor."

Yula Perl Yula Perl Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom