notyourrookie | Cyberpunk AU for Belle

Club Errera is not the usual sort of place he'd go to make contact with someone, but it sure as hell beats a dingy back alleyway or abandoned apartment. It's close to the core, skirting the edge of the central district; the sort of place where rich people go when they want to feel like they're slumming it, but without the risk of getting shivved out the back.

Even the drugs here are higher class. Can't have some executive's dear son or daughter dying because someone cut their stims or holos with rat poison.

Wash could probably pass for one of them at the moment. A little makeup, a carefully applied visual to hide some of the scars and the exhaustion, and he looks like he fits in. The clothes are fancy, but not too fancy, from one of the cheaper stores on the outskirts of the core, black pants that cling and a shirt that hugs his frame and it had taken some work to hide a knife under that.

He crosses the floor, squeezing between people dancing, and trying to avoid being felt up. The lights flash neon, pink and blue and green, and he's glad for the implants that help control his vision or he'd be feeling dizzy right now.

He just has to find this guy now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

New contract meant new clients meant a new connection. Having to actually meet in person was both the safest and most dangerous option available to him for so many reasons. Can't get traced or backhacked- but he could get shot. Or made. Neither of these things are really acceptable, so. He sidles up to the least scuzzy dive bar with good music, reasonably priced drinks, and easily jammable security cameras. Neither he nor his clients need to get recorded doing business. Getting in early was a requirement- he set up in a booth, drinks coming along, jammer and looper up against the underside of the table as he lounged.

His one flag to the client would be that he was wearing gold- not in season or style right now but not so gauche he couldn't carry it, glimmering in his cybernetic eye, his lapel the glowing lines along his suit. Wearing an old fashioned tux made him feel a little more gangster.

Also it's easier to hide a holster if you've got a jacket.

He keeps his eyes open for his contact. Mr Gold. That was the name he'd been given, and told he'd recognise him when he saw him. Not the best set of instructions he'd ever been given, but who was he to balk at that? He'd gone into bigger missions with worse intel.

He heads towards the back, the quieter area near the big bar. Booths line the walls, giving a modicum of privacy. He heads up to the bar itself, and leans against it like he's waiting for a drink while he scans the area. Mostly people who look pretty occupied already. And there, near the back, a flash of gold. Wash takes his time. The guy is wearing a suit, but there's the lapel pin. Subtle enough that he doesn't stand out too much to the wrong people.

Wash heads over and slides into the booth, giving the guy a cursory glance.

"You look like you're planning to go to the opera, not clubbing."

Edited 2018-10-02 23:11 (UTC)

"It makes me easy to find." He shrugs, tapping the jammer as soon as Wash slides in across from him. Privacy is kind of vital for this sort of business and most groups like Wash's? Pay well to never, ever be found out. He's always been good for it but this? Seems like a new play.

A new angle for the game and he can't say he isn't a little curious about what they're asking over. Vague and ominous works pretty well over text but in person? You have to pony up.

Or at least send someone with a solid poker face. "Now- What exactly is this gig that none of you could tell me about?"

The jammer settles him a little. At least the guy's prepared. He's heard only good things about him but he can't help but be paranoid. it's what's kept him alive up until now.

"I didn't think 'easy to find' would be something you would be in favour of."

He keeps watching the guy for a few moments, trying to gauge anything about him, but he's painfully hard to read. "I need a keycard and access codes. For Charon Industries HQ."

Edited 2018-10-06 22:33 (UTC)

"...You want someone minding the cameras while you break in?" Because that? That's an oversight on his part if he thinks getting in with the card and codes will be enough to keep Charon from A) Finding out about whatever he's planning and B) keep it from coming back down on his head. And from that point- connecting where he got his way in back to York.

"Because I can include that in the 'infiltration without detection' package for the low low price of I enjoy having repeat customers and don't want to see you get arrested. Or vanished. Charon mostly vanishes people." Poof, puff of smoke, never to be seen or heard from again.

Wash raises an eyebrow at him for that sudden offer, and gives him a wary look. That was a bit too sudden. Sure, the guy has been pretty trustworthy until now, but everyone has a price. It's not like they haven't been screwed over before.

"I know what Charon is like," he says shortly. "Didn't think you'd be interested in getting more involved."

He seemed like more of a behind the scenes guy, someone who contracted the intel and tech, but wasn't really affiliated.

"I like repeat customers." He shrugs. "Getting regulars is rare in this business, not everyone's smart enough to get what they need without getting themselves caught. Your group? Pretty smart. But-"

They hadn't gone for Charon specifically yet. Anyone he's sent in there before? Hasn't made it back out.

"This is a higher stakes gig than the rest of what you've had me do."

"We're a bunch of paranoid prickly assholes with no friends but I guess that's the same thing." None of them are exactly the most well adjusted people in the world. Well adjusted people don't put themselves through this shit. They just keep their heads down and hope someone else will do something.

"There's some data we need. Right now is the best chance we've got before their security upgrade goes into force."

"So you want shit that works, that works well, a cover on the system so you aren't caught- and you want it in a hurry." He drums his nails against the table, considering his usual rates. This would be his third or fourth time working for a part of this group, if not this group directly. Either they lost their old arm or they're mixing up who handles the contacts.

Smart, honestly. He has a reputation and he holds to it, but most people? Don't really last in this line of work. "I charge extra for rush jobs."

Of course he did. And really Wash would be more worried if he'd accepted it without considering properly. Taking on this sort of job without at least a bit of thought - that would be a pretty huge red flag, either for incompetence or treachery. Both were as likely to get you killed or 'disappeared'.

"I'm good for it. If you think you can get the job done."

"Have I ever let you or your clandestine little state named group down? Ever? I'm hurt, seriously." He presses a hand to his chest, grimacing. "I'm a professional. I'll get it done, I'll get it done right, and I'll get it done quickly. That's your golden guarantee."

"You haven't done anything this big for us yet," Wash points out. They haven't tried to get into Charon before. Not like this. "There's no shame is calling out if you know it's more than you can do."

He'd rather people be honest with them, than arrogant and get them all killed.

"But if you think you can, then I'm grateful."

Cyberpunk AU for Belle

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