Characters Only: Sweet Tooth

Pacific Place, a small multi-floor plaza with high-end retailers. The older building takes up the entire city block. It is positioned in the downtown area, about half a mile from the Seattle Waterfront. Across Sixth Street, from its Western Entrance is a high security facility for Nordstoms of Seattle. They are known for their precious gems. ShooBakery is two locations inside, on the Northern side of the hall. Even at this later hour, there is a lot of traffic on the city streets and sidewalks. Downtown has a lot of Lonestar patrols, while Knight Errant holds the contacts with the ritzier commercial stores. The intended crowds of clientele are of the high class and luxury persuasion. They would know their own kind, and the sort of people hired to work in the stores they frequently visit. Tourists, as few as they are, can be seen. GM: It is early in the timeline. Game-wise, and Player-wise. The Court Tavern and the warehouse are miles away from Downtown. The chartered cab, keeps a professional and safe pace. Just a little faster than Metrolink system, but not by much.

The density and cacophony of activity sparking throughout the downtown area was a vivid reminder that Seattle was a metroplex. No longer did New York claim sole ownership of "The City that Never Sleeps." It might have been a unique, fitting moniker nearly a century ago, but now that description better characterized the contemporary Sixth World. It was always awake. While it might have been easier to hide the impurities that the metroplex at large would prefer remained invisible, it was all there. Everything from the shimmering, clean and suit-like aesthetic architecture of the corporate edifices, to dingy, dark alleys filled with litter and hooligans. It would have been somewhat familiar to children of the 21st century, except every extreme was cranked up to one-thousand and moderation had been forgotten. Blanket that imagery in neon, weave in automation, the commonality of cybernetics, and sprinkle it with an extra large dusting of eccentric and that was Seattle's appearance under the barely visible sparkling stars hovering in the skies above. Slowly but steadily making notable progress was a woman with an extended neon white stick, carefully rolling its tip atop the pavement of the sidewalk along Fifth Avenue. She had brushed ebony skin barely visible under her attire. The refined, though dated, and rarely used business casual dress was gone. It was replaced by an obviously well worn Anorak of a dark beige color. Underneath was a simple, thick long sleeved T-shirt with a chrome cyber-bunny logo plastered on the front with rows upon rows of binary illustrated along the majority of the shirt. She was wearing slightly baggy cargo pants with faded urban camouflage as the aesthetic design. Her feet were covered by incredibly well worn brown boots that, in all honesty, should have long since served their years. They were cut, chiped and decrepit, but apparently fit perfectly and were quite comfy. Hooked behind her ears was a plain pair of dark shades--a common and obvious indicator of the visually impaired. Her backpack, a familiar companion, was strapped to her shoulders, the zippers gently jingling as she walked. She had organized the rendezvous for the corner of Fifth Avenue by the Fireworks Gallery. She hoped she wasn't late. The metro had been fairly rapid and practiced repetition enabled her ease and haste in changing her clothing. Walking along she had to carefully avoid the rapid pace of the other pedestrians and apologize more than once for bumping into someone. However, eventually she was there. "I made it. Hopefully I'm on time."

After a short time, Round drives into the Seattle Downtown Area., and then navigates through the local traffic towards Fireworks Gallery. "Busy." the dwarven cabbie noted out loud. "So boss, where do you want me to pick you up?" he asked indirectly at the trio of passengers.

"I'm thinking you stay a block or two away, close by.  And we call you when we are ready for pick up with the where then.." Striker gives a look to the others, "You two agree?" Striker begins to look out the window, a bit bored and confused with the lack of job details. 

Castien shrugs, "Not sure how long this will take, could be ten minutes, could be an hour. Like Striker said, we'll give you a call when we're getting close to wrapping things up." Castien takes the rest of the trip to explain the job and their plan to Striker.

Round pulls up to a reasonable location. It is not right in front of any entrances, but still close enough. A casual observer might dismiss a yellow cab, regardless of the vehicle's vintage. Even in this part of town, traffic is a mix of new and used, wheeled and hovercraft. The visual noise of people, and commercial advertisement also serves as a level of urban camouflage that anyone can take advantage of, whether they knew what they were doing or not. Then the driver unlocks the cab's doors. "Enjoy your party folks. Your chartered service will be near by." the dwarf said while he casually sat in the driver's position.

"Your number?" Striker waits a moment to make sure he has the number for the Dwarf before he leaves. Once outside the cab he stretches a bit before making a motion that appears to be dusting himself off but really is just checking to see if all his things are still there.  To the others, "You see the person we are meeting for our party?" Walks a few steps away from the cab looking for the specialist Castien had mentioned. 

Stepping out of the cab, Gibs looks through the crowd.  He notices Geomi tapping along the sidewalk where she'd previously agreed to meet the group. "There's our girl." Gibs walks with urgency towards her, his ill-fitting button-down shirt flapping in the cool breeze of the Pacific Northwest. His grin is evident in his voice. "Hoi, miss. You need some help finding your way?  I hear the pies around the corner are the best in the city."

Round had his attention directed into the cab's augmented reality screen. He was monitoring some key details. He heard the new passenger. "Yeah... the fixer man hosting your bachelor party, took care of the tab. I believe the receipt is already logged into your commlink. Be sure to not lose it. The ride is paid for. Don't want some chuckle head claiming to be you, right?" The dwarf responded, then he looked to all three passengers while they shuffled out.

Despite being shackled with her visual impairment from birth, she always experienced the vivid oppressive assault of noise and clamor that defined the modern Seattle Megaplex. The blaring noise of vehicle horns, the roar of tires, the beeping of car alarms and the storm of conversations of variable volume enclosed her in a swirling cloud of sensory information. Though in fact a subconscious adaptation developed over years of practice, filtering each individual sound to its approximate source was still a strenuous task. Pressed up against the cold, reinforced steel of the renovated Fireworks Gallery, Geomi strained her senses to ascertain whether or not her associates were nearby. While a viable option, she hesitated to loudly call out. She chose, instead, to rely on her own conspicuousness. In a society supplemented by magic and cybernetics, individuals that still suffered from blindness stood out. Sure enough her assumptions were justified.  "Oh. Thank you. I'm looking for a particular bakery in Pacific Place. Do you know of it?" Geomi's response arrived with a hint of hesitation. She had limited experience with acting, but Gibs initial introduction reminded her that subtly was paramount. Thus her cognition spun into overdrive, ruthlessly erasing all possible expressions that would expose her lisp. Simultaneously she began to casually, though tentatively walk with Gibs. The presentation of a disoriented, blind woman, unfamiliar with the area and was a bit too trusting of strangers was what she aimed for. Her aim was to become invisible in plain sight. Who'd suspect someone like her of being anything more than just a simple civilian at best?  

Striker took a quick look at this strange group he found him and the surrounding area, attempting to evaluate who stood out the least.   He knew the gist of the job.   Texts group, "Striker(in case you haven't changed contacts or don't know me) - Going to scout." Striker puts his hands in his pocket and tries to blend in with the other pedestrians and general environment of the area, heading towards the back of their target while scouting the general area for anything interesting or out of place. 

Castien nods his head to Striker as he leaves. Looking at Geomi he casually says, "Of course we know that one, best pies in the city. Come on, we'll show you." While they walk Castien does his best to look for details, anything that might cause a problem with their plan, pedestrians that look like they're staring, security guards, etc.

Nearly as described, Pike Place is a small mall with high end retailers. Geomi did her homework, as she had explained things back at the Court Tavern. The building has open public access on all sides. There is underground access for city and commercial vehicles. Security tends to be focused there. It sees a lot of traffic for delivery of retail goods and food ingredients. While also providing a way for waste to be picked up. At street level, even at this time of the later evening, the crowd is more readily present. All entrances have pedestrians coming and going. Individuals, couples, and families pass through the doors. There doesn't appear to be any special events happening, or advertised. From the outside, businesses on all floors appear to be open, and in full swing with a shopping public.

Inside the west entrance, on the north side of the hall is the target location, Shoo Bakery. The baking kitchen is closed for the day, however, it does remain open. It is still serving coffee, tea, and pastries that was made earlier that day. Only two clerks remain on duty. Maybe a manager too, but they are not visible. The burnt fragrance of old coffee hits anybody in the face as they enter the mall.

Striker takes a look around the area near Shoo Bakery, looking for any place like a store or company he could stay in and not look suspicious.  After his quick search he returns to the others, and notices they are all taking up an act.  He grins and nods, putting up his hood he stays way from them and texts Castien and Gibs, "I'll stay in the background and try to keep an eye on you lot from a distance.  I recommend Castien take a lead if anyone gives you trouble, and Gibs acts like a body guard for the specialist.  A bit tired and would prefer to handle this under the radar, if you guys need me to go loud or sneak in somewhere let me know. Just some quick notes, try not to use real names or names you have a reputation with.  I'd recommend establishing some fake names right now.  Also, can I get some way to contact the woman?"

As the cacophony of sound and scents drastically changed upon their entry into Pacific Place, Geomi shivered slightly. The dramatic alteration in noises and the lingering sweet and charred smells reminded her of previous experiences. She exhaled deeply before murmuring to herself. "Haaa. Calm down. I'm thtill in reality." She caught herself, tightening a fist so that her shaking fingers could be calmed. She made sure to travel close to Gibs so as not to get carried away by the dense crowd of customers and patrons. Once properly situated nearby Shoo Bakery, something she determined due to the conversations of nearby pedestrians, she began to whisper to Gibs. "Pardon me. Can you explain to me how the local area appear?" She paused near the end of her question. Once again in an effort to hide her oratory defect, she dropped the plural of her inquiry. Perhaps that would create an impression that she was a foreigner. It could be beneficial. She was multi-lingual. She made sure to stop when they had created some space from the crowd. "I want to know if there are people nearby who are jacked into the local matrix." She quietly clarified her earlier statement to Gibs. If there were other individuals utilizing augmented reality and decks to casually communicate or even order food in other eateries or the lobbies then her task would become significantly simpler. She could just blend in.

"It's beautiful, my dear. Color and artifice designed to entice the mind and empty heavy pockets!" Reminds me of Concord Mills back home. Gibs glances around looking for other deckers. "I suppose I can cheat on my diet, just this once!"

The area has regular people traffic, and the customers seem thinned out in the stores, hallway cafes, and other expensive eateries. As Gibs can openly tell, nobody is blatantly using hardwired connection to anything. Matrix or personal devices. While having to check his commlink for the incoming texts, Gibs would have noticed a couple other alerts. Several services, adverts, and wireless connection from the mall, are asking for access permission to his commlink. All of the runners would be getting similar levels of spamming to their devices. Even Geomi, would be getting some equivalent of an electronic assault. Her devices would have been tailored to match her personal needs and preferences. 

Geomi revealed a subtle smile in response to Gibs boisterous humor. Very experienced with the severe problem of extensive spamming in densely trafficked areas such as this, Geomi had preemptively disabled the wireless connection of her internal, cranial datajack. Presently she was safe from weathering the unrelenting storm of pings and advertisements that circulated around Pacific Place like a wild, raging torrent. After listening to the recollection afforded from Gibs, she nodded in confirmation. While she didn't believe there were laws prohibiting the use of simple decks in public locations like this, she understood the wariness. The risk of spam was constant and prevalent. Additionally she understood that it was grounds for immediate arrest to possess decks of a certain quality and not have a corporate citizenship to explain the hardware.  She heard rumors that some offenders were simply shot on sight, but that seemed far too extreme in her opinion. "Might want to hold back a little. Alway a good idea to watch your figure. Why don't we begin healthy?" Geomi casually responded in tune with Gibs portrayal. She then knelt down and whispered so that both Gibs and hopefully Castien would be able to hear here. "We thhould look for a thmoothie thtore. There I can attempt to covertly operate my deck. It ith hidden inthide of my backpack." She paused for a moment before finishing her sentence. "I...don't need to thee it to uthe it. Before we can enter the bakery and get within range of their PAN, I'll need to get control over the thurrounding camerath. If you could provide some kind of cover for me I'd appreciate it." She finished and left the selection of a nearby beverage eatery up to them.

Finding a reasonable spot to work in, seemed easy enough. There is no place readily available to jack-in with a datajack's integral direct neural interface cord. Uplinking in the mall to the mall, will be strictly wireless. The SPAM will be a problem. Maybe near negligible under Geomi's scrutiny and skill level, but still at a level that will keep it noticeable, and annoyingly distracting. It is SPAM in a very commercial location. After a few short minutes, she easily convinced the mall's core system that she worked there in official capacity. She dominated nearly every corner of Pike Place hosting server and peripheral components. It will be some time, before her access will get scrubbed from the service history. Her marks will be nearly invisible, since they make her look more like an employee than a unwanted visitor. The final thing she will be able to confirm with Shoo Bakery is that their private system is a closed device. It is not connected to the internet, nor does it maintain any access to social media accounts. There won't be a way to establish a back door. She will need to physically access their device. It will need to be a very intimate ordeal face to face with the computerized management device.

Striker a few meters away from the other's surveys the bakery, making note of the security.  Trying to identify the type of the security, points of interest, and how to infiltrate secure areas. Trying to make use of the time Geomi gets to work.  Through his commlink he asks the group, "How's it going?" To mask his concentration and focus on the bakery under his breath he mutters in a whisper "vanilla or chocolate soynut?....." repeatedly.  Occasionally drifting his gaze to the menu.  

[Allowing herself to be led by the hand, she ventured with the group into a nearby smoothie-bar: 'Delicious and Nutritious.' At least that's the name she overheard upon entering. Inside, an empty table was easily procured. Though she was unaware in what manner the group had chosen, she trusted that they had provided a distraction for her. Awkwardly grasping at dead air, she finally gripped the spine of her chair and sat. Casually her backpack was slung from her shoulders and placed atop the table. Her index finger extended, counting the compartments of the pack before settling on the fourth. Her nail ran along the incision, finding the zipper and then undoing its seal. Exhaling, Geomi reached her middle finger up to six, tiny bulbous protrusions behind a shaven portion of her skull. She pressed them in a familiar pattern, subtle clicks audible only to those within inches of her. A monotone, robotic voice resounded silently in her mind. 'Wireless Fidelity online.' Geomi immediately felt her integrated datajack get slammed by an innumerable amount of requests, advertisements and pings for connectivity. She grit her teeth and slid her hand into the darkness of her backpack. A finger reached across modified plastic and depressed a switch. The hum of a fan quietly reverberated as a staccato of clicks danced to a mechanical rhythm from within. 'Boot process complete. Uplink established. Please connect fiber optic neural line...' Geomi's right hand stops its hail-like stabs at mechanical keys and unhooks something inside her backpack. She leans forward as if resting her head against the backpack like a pillow. From the interior she extracts a fiber optic cable terminating in a contemporary telecommunications jack. She inserts it into the port at the back of her head. Her shoulders immediately slump and her head slightly lulls to one side, gently resting atop the synthetic fabric of the backpack. Her right digits rattle off the mechanical keys at a lightning pace as her mind is launched into the Pike Place Matrix. ] [ A vibrant rush of adrenaline accents the vibrant pulsing neon of the Matrix. Freed from her ponderous and heavy human shell, Geomi's neural connection to the vast simsense of the Matrix enabled her to move at the speed of thought. A slimy puddle sizzling like acidic tar congealed at the entrance to the Pike Place Network. Hovering before the undulating, amniotic pool was a framework of architecture buzzing with code.  'Welcome user. Please establish a guest connection to interact with the Pike Place Network.' The structure glowed and flickered as it replayed its coded directive. The tar-like bubbling muck extended tendrils upwards, twitching and sloppily taking shape from its original amorphous mass. A thick, voluptuous feminine silhouette stood there in its place. Hundreds of thousands of slits appeared and simultaneously opened across every inch of the silhouette. They were eyes of myriad shapes, sizes and contortions; each and every single one unique from each other. They stared at the data structure in unison. 'Welcome use-. Wel-. Wel- Welcom-' The structure glitched and stuttered for a while. 'Welcome Administrator.' And thus the gateway to the Pike Place Network opened for Geomi. The feminine frame melted back into the amorphous sludge and vanished like coiled lightning into the sprawling system. Geomi's goal was simple. She desired information pertaining to the location of Shoo Bakery's private system. In addition she wanted to make herself, Gibs, Castien and Striker invisible to the cameras. Once she had begun the processes she jacked out of the matrix in time to hear Striker over the commlink. ] [She rubbed leaking drool from the side of her lips and composed herself before responded in a hushed tone. 'There ith an offline therver in Thhoo Bakery. I'll need to directly interface with it to get what we need. I've implanted a protocol into the local camera nodeth. We thhouldn't appear on their thurvelliance footage. Sitting up she hailed a server and placed a order for a soy-milk smoothie to go. Once in hand she'd accompany Gibs and Castien to Shoo Bakery. ]

Striker sends a group text, "I don't see a place to interface, unless you do, I advise that myself, Castien or Gibs cause a distraction while the others try to sneak Geomi around and cover her while she's working."