Backsmasher overhears Vargall's conversation, and decides to follow, as does the rest of you. Why? MOVING ON WITH THE PLOT THAT'S WHY.

*ahem*




Allie stuffs her recently-acquired chemicals in her backpack. Better not get searched by the police carrying these!





Bright remembers a few things about the mafia while driving to the cantina. Loosely-affiliated group of three main families, connected with smuggling, gambling, anything profitable, really. Prefer not to get their hands dirty, hire shadowrunners to deliver most of their violence. Not known for doublecrossing, but not always fully honest with their proposals either.


Oh look, you've arrived at the Cantina, now-

...THOSE GUYS are here too? Why can't you spend ONE DAY without bumping into them? Well, time to see what the four psychos are up to.




You stuff everyone into your car and drive away.

The Cantina seems a very above-board establishment, at least on the outside. Several patrons discuss trivial matters over their spaghetti, and the cyber racoon shapeshifter vampire owner darts between the tables, serving and cleaning with her six arms.

Now to find Don Fra- oh, there he is. His pencil suit, mustache and gangster hat pretty much SCREAM "mafia", as he smokes a cigar and flips through today's newspaper.


What will you do?

Vargall spends 5 nuyen on a reasonably tasty beer and sits opposite to the Don. The mobster is a rather stocky dwarf, and ogles you with shrewd, unblinking eyes. He lets out a low groan, almost like an infrasonic hum, as if to question your motive for bothering him.




Faust notices MLC, who's having lunch on the next table over. He nudges the old, bald man with spectacles forwards, to talk with the mobster.




Bright, on the other hand, notices HKU-chan, who was having lunch with MLC. He stops Faust from nudging MLC, and begins to nudge the short, blond-haired girl in a military uniform.

She looks at you with the expression of a person who's just been recently nudged by a complete stranger.



What will you do?

Backsmasher looks around. The pastel-colored restaurant is bustling with customers, both civilians and mobsters. The atmosphere is casual, and even the dangerous-looking fellows are just eating pasta and talking about... Something. The background noise of a few dozen simultaneous conversations makes it impossible to overhear anyone you're not sitting right next to.

Probably why the Don chose it as a meeting place.




Realisation dawns on the dwarf's face, and he puts down his cigar.

"Straight to the point, huh? Well yes, I need a job done. Call me- Well I'd say Mr. Johnson, but everyone and their mother knows who I am.

He chuckles for a moment, then looks at you more seriously.

Now this? This is serious work, you see? The risky sort, and the sort that you REALLY can't screw up. So tell me, why should I hire you, instead of the other half dozen two-bit teams who wanted to work for me?


What will you do?