Jul 09 07:19:18 109 PA - Talking Shop

From Chronicles

Jul 09 07:19:18 109 PA.

OFFICE OF STRATEGIC SERVICES - MAIN FLOOR

It's still a few decadal minutes away from opening at the Office of Strategic Services, and Gracie hasn't even arrived. Gabriel however, is on the scene, dressed smartly. Any legitimate full-time employee who works here has a key, though every turn records who and when it happened. The owner is just outside, key in hand and reaching for the knob. Yeah, he uses a key lock rather than a keypad. Old habits die hard. Plus, you can't just transmit a code into a physical lock. His hair has obviously been recently trimmed, and he has a very quiet tune on his lips, whistling along because dear God he cannot actually carrying a singing tune.

Erebos arrives at the office to start the day, arriving early at least as far as he knew, he runs into his boss at the door. "Morning Gabriel," He says as he waits for the other man to open the door "I figured I would be the first here and wait for a bit before the door was opened."

• CLICK* goes the lock, or at least, the final one, and Gabriel nudges it open with his toe, peeking in to cover a safe zone before opening it fully. He turns to Erebos with a smile. "Good morning! We've got some talking to do. Tolkeen, a job and some final details about working here. I think you'll be interested," he tacks on. After stepping aside to hold the door, he sweeps a hand gently. "After you."

Erebos nods to acknowledge the other man's words then enters the office. Once inside he heads straight to Gracie's desk then unstraps his Sword to leave upon it. Only after the mandatory removal of weapons does he turn back toward the door and then his gaze follows Gabriel on his path after entering. "A job will be good after the Tolkeen Ambassador changed things I am more then ready to do some real work."

Gabriel allows the door to swing gently closed, its own much smaller *click* indicating that it latched. He moves on and removes most of his own weaponry. Not all of it, but most. If he has any reason beyond being the boss and thus his prerogative, he leaves it unstated. As he slides over to one of the desks, checking for any notes left for him, he sighs and shakes his head. "Yeah, the bastards. I didn't leave because the contract was busted. I left because you do *NOT* use prisoners in war." He's very emphatic. "They've done their duty for God and country, and you sure as hell don't use them as weapons. It's all very clearly spelled out in the Geneva Conventions, just for those who didn't have the moral fortitude to figure it out for themselves."

Erebos shrugs. "I do not know these Geneva conventions but it only makes sense. In war if you use the people in that way the rest of the populace will find out and turn against you." He makes no comments on weapons being held by Gabriel "I left because in my mind the contract had been invalidated due to the major undisclosed change, and because you left therefore the job had been turned down."

The older man reaches out to pat his friend and employee on the shoulder. "I appreciate it, it speaks well of you. But I think I already said that," Gabriel offers, starting with a chuckle and allowing it to fade. "It's rather sad, really. I arrived knowing nothing about mages except that they seemed unbelievable. Then I got to know one, and she's a great person. But the rest? All the rest that I've met? Bad people." He points a finger out the window, as if that's indicating something specific. "So, let me see. I never really went over the rest of the gear with you. Just some finer points of working here, and then moving on to a new job. Here are your 'cuffs. And over there at your desk, neatly folded, is your uniform. To be worn during business hours only, or when on an appropriate job."

Erebos accepts the cuffs and attaches them to his belt then looks over to the folded fabric on his desk, "I will have to change into that after this conversation is done." He nods once or twice as the other man talks about mages. "I have known mages that are stand up people and can be trusted with your credits if you go missing for a few days, others however would kill you on the rumor that you may have a five credit chit in your pocket."

Gabriel nods. "Sounds about right, I think that's common to everyone, not just mages. It's just that they're more deadly to people like me," he allows blandly. "But to hurry along, Gracie set you up with seven-hundred every other week, in case I hadn't gotten that to you yet. Ah, I know that funds are tight right now - for me, as well - but if you can afford it, a couple of other items. A small transmitter that fits in your ear, great for covert operations on a civilian or lower-military level. Your weapons, if you can have the noise-generators removed, that's a plus, although outside of Kingsdale, that's generally illegal." He shrugs. "Your call." A smile then splits his face, as he adds the information, "All of us here go by the names of archangels when doing normal jobs around the city and local environs. I'm Gabriel... that's pretty obvious by default. The others have their own names that I'll bring you up on, but your handle is Zadkiel - the Angel of Mercy. When transmitting on a job, we use the angel codes."

Erebos nods again then smiles "I will work on getting the taser as soon as possible, as for the noise-generators on my weapons, the only one that would generate noise is my rifle that is being left at the gate again since I have found an apartment out of the dregs." He pauses for a moment "The transmitter I will also have to look for as soon as possible." He smiles then "And Zadkiel is fine it will take a bit to get used too as the Angel of Mercy is not really something that would normally be associated with me."

"Perfect then," Gabriel grins. "It's a new persona for you to embrace. You might find that you like it?" He chuckles off again, and then seems to have come to the end of his information about work. Rather, new work. "Okay, new business. Tek gave me a job before you signed on that was simply impossible. Go out and find new technology not published by any of the major weapon manufacturers, and I only pay you for what you find. Yeah, that was bullshit and I told him so. I guess he thought that it was out of my league, but I defy him to find someone who founds something better. Aaaanyway." The man waves it off with a hand. "A new job, and again, basically pro bono, more marketing, really. Sithik wants us to find a lead on the people who sell slaves in the 'Dregs."

Erebos considers the words as they are spoken then acquires a thoughtful expression for a few minutes before he responds "As for Tek's job it really does not include enough information to be able to successfully completed, so it is good that the job has not been taken and therefore it is not to be given to me." He considers his next words for another few moments "To find people selling slaves in the Dregs one of the first people we should approach would be Fizzlesnoot. With him running a club in the Dregs there is a good chance he may have heard enough to at least give us a direction to start upon."

"I thought as much. But I wouldn't be surprised if Sithik had gone to him. Oh, and by the way - I did dig around for Tek. Found a brand new weapon just being fielded by the Coalition, but it wasn't good enough." Again, Gabriel's statement falls away as a chuckle. "I'm not up on the 'Dregs, honestly, but I think that slaving is even beneath Fizzlesnoot and his clientele. Not that we shouldn't try. I think we'll need to go slumming on this one, maybe pose as interested buyers, or someone looking for an interested buyer. All Sithik wants is a name or a place to start. Here's your half of the take on a pro bono job." His wallet is opened, a genuine old leather wallet, and he hands across some larger-denomination credits.

Erebos nods again "Slaving is most likely well beneath Fizzlesnoot but with him trying to run a strip club and casino that is above par for the dregs it is likely that a slaver may frequent there or may have contacted him with the option to buy girls to work there." He accepts the credits that have been handed to him and shoves them into a pocket in his cargo styled pants. "It is but a start and perhaps we will be able to find more then just a name or place."

"Hmm. Sounds pretty shady. But we can start there, sure. I don't think that even Fizzlesnoot would take that, or maybe not even the Family. They're 'classy' crime, if such a thing exists - which it doesn't." Gabriel looks off at his map area for a while. "Maybe before we hit up a titty bar, we should make a pass through the 'Dregs alone, see if anyone knows anything that might tickle Fizzlesnoot's memory?" He lays it out as a fair question to be debated.

"Traveling through the dregs to see what we can find first is fine with me, I was just giving an option based on what little I know of the area." Eregos replies, then continues "Would this be a job where the uniform is not a must and armor can be worn?"

Gabriel smiles. "Yeah, this is an undercover job. Although I always prefer to eschew the obviousness of armor, it's probably necessary. I might need to do a little tweaking of my face, though for a surface pass, it might not be too bad. Then on to Fizzlesnoot's." He wags to the other man with his chin. "I don't suppose you have any leads with the staff, the girls anything like that?"

Erebos shakes his head "I was not hired to help with the rebuilding and talking with the girls would not only keep them from making money but would cause a lessening of my ability to watch for dangers directed at them. My face may be known to some there but I did not really take the time to make friends and the few enemies I may have made would have been through my actions at Lady Luck."

"That's fine. It was just a possibility." Gabriel shrugs it off and moves over to his map wall, pulling down an orthographic map of the 'Dregs. He taps one open area with his index finger. "The Bazaar, or the 'Dregtown Market, depending on who you ask. I *think* that the action will end up being here. But I obviously can't know for sure. I also don't want to go that deep in without at least trying for something better." After a few moments of thought, he adds, "When I'm in armor, I've tried to make it as bland as possible, and unless I know I'm going into a real war zone, I carry nondescript weapons. Like my L-20." He points to the cage, where a simple but admittedly modified wilderness rifle sits. "You're on your own of course as to what you think's best. You've done this kind of investigatory wet work before?"

"Not anything as large as a ring of Slavers, but I have been asked to find a person or two in the past and was able to do that." Erebos shrugs "I cannot see where finding multiple people will be much harder, granted the more people involved in the group we are searching for means the more shots that can be fired at us if they do not want to be found. My L-20 is back at the gate and it is not worth the effort and the bribes to get it into the city, but I have my sword if needed."

"Plenty of bad guys the more important they get, too," Gabriel observes. His own illegal L-20 gleams for a moment as if a reminder that some things are better left to the general public than the police. "I'm not a fan of swords. Too archaic. Knives? That's a different matter entirely." He winks at the other man, then starts jotting down some details on a pad that is soon delivered to Gracie's desk, likely the first thing she'll see. "So, we'll start off of Steel Street and make our way to the strip club. Not bad. I'm afraid that I'm also not very familiar with slavers. We didn't really have that kind of problem in my time."

Erebos nods again "Swords are an acquired taste I am sure but it was one of the first weapons I learned to use, partly because it is cheaper to get a vibro-sword then it was to get a good pistol. As for slavers I have never had the pleasure of dealing with one so I cannot say I am all that familiar with them either. Though whenever someone would go missing in the Warrens one of the rumors that would spread was that they were taken by slavers."

As the immediacy of the job is slowly sliding back to a bit of personal history, Gabriel eases himself into a position to lean his rear comfortably against one of the nearby desks. One whose name plaque identifies the owner as, "Lisa." He continues, "The first killing weapon I ever used was a .22 Henry Repeating Rifle that was older than my father. We'd go hunting, because it was necessary - no one had money for a store, but it worked. I was ten when I first had to use it. And a knife." It's obviously not a very pleasant memory, but may explain at least a little bit about who he is.

The conversation continues until the work day eventually beings.