[AN: Just my obligatory (infrequent) [Pat reon.com/dryskies_btb] plug, don't mind me unless you want to]
— Sean —
"-As I said, Seattle was the big time for Shadowrunners," I continued. "It was the perfect blend of corpo and criminal, tech and magic. Those gray areas, along with the fact that it was the last bastion of UCAS on the West Coast, meant the Shadows of Seattle were extensive and deep. The megacorps ruled the Seattle Metroplex more than UCAS did, though, and it was cut off from the rest of the country. There was always work to be found, even mostly legal work sometimes. But the real rep and money were found in the corpo runs, the real shadowruns…"
Falco nodded, "That's just how it is, choom. No gig pays better than a corpo one. And no gig is more dangerous."
I gave him a nod, "Exactly. Every AAA megacorp — the Big 10, each of which could rival entire countries and sent representatives to the Corporate Court that governed the business world — had a stake in Seattle. And, of course, that brought their profit games and power struggles to the city. They did their business through deniable assets so often that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson became the blanket names for anyone offering to pay for a shadowrun. With the best Johnsons, you would never know who you were working for. Just that there was a job to be done and you were being paid handsomely to do it."
"I can only respect the hustle," Deathstroke said honestly. "With that kind of professionalism as the working culture, there's just more profit to go around. For everyone. Even the targets, more often than not."
"Wait, huh? How does that work?" Jason asked.
"Imagine you're a corp engaging in war by deniable assets," Deathstroke elaborated. "You get hit by a merc team, and they make off with some loot or another. Who are you going to hire to get that loot back?"
"Another merc team…?" Jason guessed.
Deathstroke nodded, "And the profit spreads. Additionally, the first targeted corp now has an unattached casus belli they can use on whoever they can justify it against. The cycle will just continue from there. Honestly, it's more economic stimulation at that point than illegal work for hire."
Diana frowned, "I dislike that I don't know enough about the topic to rebuke you. Regardless, that all sounds like a horrendous breach of law and order. I would've done something about it."
"Ah, but what if the mercs and their gigs are already the established law and order?" Riddler suggested. "Then, wouldn't disrupting the usual trends harm more than it helped?"
"If all of the Edgerunners and solos suddenly disappeared from Night City, there'd be open warfare in the streets before the week was out," Lucy deadpanned.
"It's not ideal, Diana, but some situations are just complex like that," Barbara argued soothingly. "Economies are often almost exactly like ecosystems. Delicate balances of predator and prey. Or the economic sense, supply and demand. 'Shadowrunning' might not be legal work, but it is still work."
Ivy nodded along with Barbara's arguments, "Completely eliminating Seattle's shadowrunners would be like taking a mid-level predator out of an ecosystem. The effects couldn't be predicted until it was already done, and once it was, it'd be nearly impossible to reverse. But something would rise to take their niche."
"You're right." Frowning even more fiercely, Diana still nodded and backed down. She was mature like that, willing to admit when she was wrong, "I can dislike it all I wish, but everything has its place. I shall… have to think on this more. It has rather startling implications for our line of work. From both sides…"
"Shadowrunners were an inextricable aspect of Seattle," I continued. "The Shadows were just as prominent as the megacorps, just as prominent as the city's Matrix. Seattle was a city of the highest highs, the lowest lows, and not much middle ground to speak of at all. Life was lived fast there. Despite the seeming chaos, there were a surprising amount of rules. Usually, corpo rules. But there also tended to be just as many tools that could be used to do any job you wanted done. It wasn't a city of dreams. It was a city of opportunity. And that was even more tempting and deadly than mere dreams."
"Sounds like our kinda city, choom~!" Becca grinned.
"I'm sure we would've done quite well for ourselves," Ciri confidently claimed.
"You have all the ingredients of a good shadowrunning team," I chuckled, pointing at them with a label each.
Ciri: "Mage."
Lucy: "Decker."
Falco: "Driver, and if you can link to your vehicles, you'd make a good Rigger, too."
Becca and David: "Street Sammies. Samurai."
I capped the labels off with a bit of a caveat, "You'd really need a dedicated Infiltration role and preferably a Face role as well. Infil does exactly what it says. They're the team's ninja. And Face is for all the social stuff. You won't have many runs where they won't be useful for that or the contacts they'll develop."
"I could do both of those roles, as diametrically opposed as they sound," Deathstroke put forward.
I nodded, "Then, you lot are ready for the Shadows. It's a step up from where I started. Only one of my team had proven chops in the beginning. There are a bunch of ways to get into the Shadows, but my team and I were very much dragged into it by chance and the flow of things. For us, everything started in college. Just three friends, about to meet a fourth and fifth who would lead to something spectacular and… mostly unplanned."
"College Gothboy~?" Harley asked, grinning. "Yeah, I can see it~…"
"I'd kill to see it," Didi casually added.
"Please don't…?" Jason pleaded.
"How many times have you actually been through college, Sean?" Hecate asked curiously.
"Not as many times as you might think. A lot of my lives simply don't suit or need it," I answered with a shrug. "But back then, it was only my second time around. The Sixth World was only the sixth life I lived, after all. Fitting."
"You know, it's rather rare that we get a concrete number out of you," Ivy commented.
I waved dismissively, "Exact numbers are a pain in the ass. I remember my lives as stories, not the single number associated with them. But I suppose for this story, the number is somewhat important."
"It's very early on in your Endless journey," Didi agreed.
"Yep," I nodded. "I was still very much in the process of adjusting to my reincarnations. I didn't have nearly as much experience to pull from as I'd have down the line. And I was a long way off from any wisdom I can claim now."
"So, none, Dad?" Alice snarked.
"None at all," I chuckled. "What I'm trying to get at, though, is that I wasn't anything close to a real magical powerhouse. Which was rather relevant to my role and career in the Sixth World. See, I was going to the University of Washington then… on a full-ride magic scholarship."
"Oh, if only~…" Klarion moaned and swooned dramatically, complete with a longing hand laid on his forehead.
Suddenly, Barbara snorted in realization, "Oh, Didi! You were a magic-jock!"
"I was a magic-jock," I confirmed. "D1 recruit and everything. U-Dub had a very good magical program. Not as 'perfectly structured' as Seattle University's Hermetics curriculum was considered to be. But it was better for Shamans, and that suited me just fine."
"Hermetics? Shaman? D1… Magic…?" Hecate, naturally, perked up at the prospect of more magical knowledge.
Klarion, once he snapped out of his playful dramatics, was right behind her, "Do tell, Sean~… You haven't mentioned much about the actual metaphysics of the Sixth World. And now you're telling us you studied it? For shame, I say! We simply must know more."
"If you insist," I obliged. "All Magic in the Sixth World sprang forth from the Astral Plane. And the Astral, it was the superposition of two… 'locations', let's call them. The Physical Plane and the Metaplanes. The Physical Plane is exactly how it sounds: everything you'd think of as 'real'.
"But the Metaplanes were deep and varied. They were considered the origin of mana and the homes of the Spirits: life that dealt in mana constructs rather than organic molecules. The closest Metaplanes were what gave rise to the concepts of Hell, the Faewild, and Valhalla. Beyond those closest echelons, the Metaplanes only grew more alien, more ethereal, more paradoxical, and incomprehensible.
"No one knew what lurked in the deepest Metaplanes. But the Sixth World saw plenty of evidence that there was… life there… Anathema life that understood us as much as we understood them. That is to say… not at all."
"Oh, I don't like that…" Barbara muttered. "I don't like that at all…"
"(◎ ◎)ゞ" Cass asked. 'So, what? Demons?'
"No, 'Demons' would be considered more on the comprehensible side of the scale," I chuckled. "Less 'armies of the damned', and more just 'another brand of Spirit'. Life from the deeper Metaplanes was so utterly alien that there was no comparison. The Insect Spirits were the most common example the Sixth World saw. They were the closest thing to alien life that Metahumanity knew of. Think alien bug swarm. Now, make them Magic, intelligent, literally hive-minded, and subject to rules of life and being entirely different from what the Physical Plane mandated."
"But… they're just bugs, right?" David's face scrunched up in both disgust and confusion.
I shook my head, "'Insect' was just the closest comparison Metahumanity had to what these deeper Spirits were. And I'll just let you think about that for a moment. The closest we could get to pinning them down… were just about the farthest things from Human life that Earth has to offer."
"… Ah," Penguin summed it up best with one word.
"Yeah, I've always kinda considered bugs to be Earth Aliens," Harley winced.
Despite the subject matter, Klarion was grinning from ear to ear, "Fascinating~… Terrible, but fascinating. And the other Spirits? They lived on the same level, yes? Beings of Magic, just much closer to concepts we would normally comprehend?"
"That's about right," I nodded. "There were Animal Spirits and Elemental Spirits and even Conceptual or Cultural Spirits. They liked to hang out on the Astral and were 'agreeable', in one way of saying it. Actually comprehensible, in another.
"See, the Astral itself was… complicated. In a Venn diagram, it was everywhere those two 'locations' overlapped. It was both Physical and Meta, and neither, to put it not at all simply. But that meant the Spirits who liked to linger there had much more solid footholds in the Physical Plane. The influences of 'reality' were recognizable in them. And since the Astral lay 'overtop' the Physical Plane, a lot of them just… chilled, ya know? Only slightly removed from the reality we're used to."
"Was the Astral a 1:1 representation of the Physical Plane?" Hecate asked a rather expectedly canny question.
"Not 1:1, per se," I waved my hand so-so. "It mirrored the Physical Plane in some places, and not at all in others. But there was some correlation between the two planes. In the overlapped space of the Astral, there was as much influence from the Physical Plane as there was from the Metaplanes."
"So, like…" Jason gathered his thoughts. "High-Earth orbit, but Magical? Where you can still see the Earth below, where you're still tied to it, but the vast unknown lurks just beyond?"
"Smart, dude," Alice smiled brightly at Jason and Jason alone. "That's a pretty good analogy. I like it."
Jason chuckled kinda awkwardly, looking away and sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, "It's nothin'… Just how my brain made sense of it."
Didi and I shared knowing glances at that little interaction. But we didn't interfere. Jason would be good for Alice. More importantly, Alice would be good for Jason. And them feeling each other out like this was just adorable.
"What do 'Hermetics' and 'Shamans' refer to?" Hecate pressed for more Magical knowledge.
"Well, the Physical Plane, Metaplanes, Astral Plane, and the Spirits were all set aspects, established concepts. The Physics of Magic, there was no changing them," I said. "But the Metahumans who could use Magic all saw it in different ways. Hermetics and Shamans were the two most prominent ways of using Magic, the leading traditions. Hermetics were calculated and methodical, while the Shamans were spiritual and instinctive. A Hermetic might painstakingly calculate every facet of a spell or ritual. A Shaman would wing it completely. But both were completely valid ways of seeing Magic, with benefits and disadvantages that went both ways."
"Corpo vs. Nomad?" Falco offered.
"Sorta," Again, I waved my hand so-so. "It wasn't so cut and dry. Really, the traditions just influenced an individual Mage's relationship with their Magic, not the results they could affect. Shamans were more likely to see Magic through a cultural or esoteric lens. They… gave more of themselves to Magic. On the other side, Hermetics were much more practical, almost academically distant, seeing Magic through a much more scientific lens, as a tool for Metahumanity like any other. Neither side was necessarily wrong. It all came down to the individual."
"Well, isn't that interesting?" Klarion hummed, tapping his lip. "You said your university's Magical program favored Shamans, but their rival's program favored Hermetics. The latter would be much easier to teach in an academic setting, no?"
"Yep, much more structured," I nodded. "U-Dub's Magic course was all about providing the tools and environment for a Mage to self-actualize and learn in their own way. It was a much more flexible curriculum. But I'm biased, of course. I was a Shaman. Not really in the cultural sense. More that… I was determined to forge my own path, with only myself to judge, and damn anyone else who tried to influence me otherwise."
Didi chortled, "That does sound like you, Sean. Even as a reincarnating 'babe', you had a unique way of doing things, it seems."
"ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ" Cass cheered. 'Reach Heaven by Violence~!'
Barbara's expression went utterly flat at that, "What. No… Cass is the last fucking person I want to hear say that-!"
"I feel like I missed a banger of a story, there," Klarion considered aloud.
"That particular wisdom was still a long way off during my time in the Sixth World," I chuckled. "I still had a somewhat 'youthful' view of my… situation back then. I thought I had to have been chosen to reincarnate again and again for a reason or something. That each of my lives had a destiny to live up to. That I constantly needed to be doing so much more…"
"And now, choom…?" David asked, focusing on me with intent and a longing for purpose. "What do you think now?"
I gathered lifetimes of experience and lessons learned into my gaze as I met his eyes. The air hung heavily between us. Then, I just shrugged, "It is what it is."
David almost face-faulted onto the bar, "Wha-?! Huh?!"
"It is what it is," I repeated, this time layering more profound meaning into my voice and words. "Maybe I was chosen. Maybe I wasn't. It is what it is. Maybe I should be doing more, maybe I should be doing less. It is what it is. Maybe there's some Endless purpose to everything. Maybe there's none at all… It is what it is. All I can do is keep on keepin' on, cause existence will be what it is, with or without me. And I much prefer 'with'."
Didi lovingly leaned into me, laying her head on my shoulder, "I much prefer 'with', too, Dear."
Lucy grabbed David's hand and sent him a pointed look, "We all prefer 'with'."
"O-Oh…" David muttered. "Guess there's no real need to stress the detes, huh?"
"There can be," I offered. "But there doesn't have to be. No need to get caught up in philosphical crap if it's just bringing you pain. You're a good kid, David. My advice? Just keep on keepin' on. If you feel like you need a purpose, find one. Or make one. Or abstain entirely. Really, just live, 'cause the universe will go on with or without you, and…"
Didi finished my advice, "-And even Death prefers 'with'."
I let the moment linger for a bit longer, until David nodded and settled again. Then, I nodded to everyone else as acknowledgment for their patience and picked up where I left off.
"Alright, so… Even as a D1 magic-jock, I had something of a chip on my shoulder. A need to prove myself and do something, preferrably something good in a world that was honestly pretty fucked up. I came into my first year with that drive in me. And pretty quickly, I found myself with a… patron. A Spiritual patron…"
"This is going to be good~…" Klarion grinned and leaned in for more.
"[Patron = Sprit?][Patron = Human?]" Simmy asked, cocking her head curiously.
"The first one," I answered. "Certain Spirits were powerful and relatable enough to bond with Mages. Most Shamans had one of these Mentor Spirits. Hermetics rarely did. They weren't necessarily good or bad, just aligned with the Mage they bonded with. They could be anything from Eagle to Pegasus, to Chaos, to Dragon Slayer, to Pollution, and each incarnation was interpreted differently for each individual Mage.
"My patron… was the Firebringer, the divine thief who stole primordial fire and first gifted it to Man."
"Lord Prometheus!" Diana gasped in awe and reverence.
"Oh, Cousin Luci's going to love this one," Didi chuckled.
"It appeared to me as a Devil, an Angel, a God, and a Titan all at once," I continued with great weight to my voice. "It cradled fire in its outstretched hands, shifting between claws and fingers and wings. It saw potential within me, pushing that stolen fire onto my brow and breathing new life into my primordial clay. With stolen fire, what else could I do but make my mark on the world? What else could I do but spread the flames? What else could I do but help those who asked earnestly, genuinely, emphatically?"
"w(°ｏ°)w" Cass made a little 'O' with her mouth beneath her mask. 'Woah~… Heavy… How'd you burn, Daddy~? Did you burn bright~? Hot~?'
"He's not your daddy!" Alice snapped at her. "However he burned is none of your business!"
"(.•̀ᴗ-)✧" Cass shot her a teasing wink. 'Not yet~ But it will be~! Maybe I want Daddy to burn~ me~ all~ up~…"
"Horny — and I can't believe I'm saying this — aside," Harley cut in. "That sounded all bigly and sagely and whatever-ly. But what really happened there, Gothboy?"
"Well, my bond with the Firebringer gifted me a boon, expanding upon the path I was already walking with a talent for alchemy. I was pants at it beforehand," I explained. "Pure spellcaster, magic-jock me. But the Firebringer was a creator. Its alchemy helped me invest my spells into items and triggers for easy use later. It turned the pure instinct I ran on into preparation for just about anything. Think… Levitate in a feather. Fireball in a fuse. Or Death Touch in a good solid pebble that I could chuck at people."
"Heh, that's a mental image," Klarion snorted. "Getting hit on the head with a tiny pebble and dropping over dead."
"That does sound interesting," Ciri hummed. "I think I would like this Firebringer."
"Enchantments are always powerful," Hecate nodded approvingly.
"However," I added. "The bond also meant I quite literally couldn't refuse a true cry for help."
"A preferable drawback, all things considered," Diana commented. "Lord Prometheus' legacy of aid lived on through you."
I just sighed, "Yeah, it sounds pretty good… until it gets you and your friends dragged into the Shadow War between an AI trying to prove itself worthy of life and those Insect Spirit invaders trying to devour, quite literally, everything that does and doesn't move… But we'll get to that."
"That sounds rather interesting. Can't we get to it now~?" Ivy playfully asked.
"Oh, no. No, no, no, of course not," I denied her just as playfully. "You still haven't met my friends yet, after all!"
"Hell yeah~!" Becca grinned. "Flex your chooms, choom~!"
As I elaborated, a guilelessly smiling figure appeared in the mirror, "The first was someone who was with me in that life for as long as I could remember. He was the best friend I could've asked for. Real ride or die. He was a jock, too. But the more traditional kind, with an untraditional sport of choice. Urban Brawl was his game. A blood-pumping mix of mundane objective and fantastical execution. Urban Brawl was all about getting a ball to the other team's goal. But to do so… both teams engaged in Urban. Fucking. Warfare."
"Hold on, hold on, choom!" David exclaimed, laughing. "I can only get so hard!"
Ciri rolled her eyes alongside Lucy, both sighing, "You would…"
"Why the shit-fuck did Night City not think of that~?!" Becca demanded rhetorically, her eyes sparkling. "Would've made downtime a breeze~!"
"I'm both intrigued and horrified," Jason said frankly.
"(O.O)" Cass pursed her lips cutely. 'Welp. I've found my new favorite sport.'
"I'll have to introduce it to the Colosseum of Crime," I chuckled.
"Yesssss~!" Harley hissed and pumped her fists in victory. "We're gonna make a fortune and have fun doing it~!"
I continued, "But anyway, my day one chummer was one of two star 'Heavies' on U-Dub's Urban Brawl team. Everyone, meet Tripp the Troll. More specifically, Tripp was a subspecies of Troll called, for obvious reasons, 'Minotaurs'. But that doesn't have the same alliteration. So, Tripp the Troll. A simple dude, always chill, and without a liar's bone in his 'beefed-up' body."
In the mirror, the vision of Tripp waved happily. He was massive, just short of 2.5 meters (8'), but built like, well… a bull. Fluffy hair fell down over his eyes, with symmetrical horns poking up from both sides of his head. The horns weren't just for show, either. They'd fuck up anyone Tripp charged at. It'd happened more than once. But despite his intimidating exterior, Tripp wore a constant, slightly simple smile. He wasn't the smartest tool in the shed, but not dumb, either. Just… slower than most. And I knew from long experience that he was brave, loyal, and a bit of a softie to those who were willing to overlook his appearance for the man beneath.
"Woahoho~…" Becca leered aloud. "Bull himbo. Good taste. Yeah, he could pick me up and fold me in half~…"
"Please, keep your mouth civil," Ciri chided.
"But-! But-! Look at that slab of beef, Witch Girl~!" Becca whined.
"I do have eyes," Ciri said, rolling them. "I just also happen to have a filter."
"Σ(￣.￣ﾉ)" Cass considered 'aloud'. '… He looks like he gives good hugs.'
"The best fucking hugs," I confirmed, chuckling. "And the bro handshakes. Don't even get me started on the bro handshakes. Every time we saw each other, it was bro 'shake on sight."
The men in the bar nodded their understanding and approval in almost eerie unison, "Hell yeah/Respect/Can't hate a bro 'shake/It's only right/You son of a bitch/My man/Brother/Chill shit, choom."
Manly nods all around, I introduced one last fact about Tripp, "Now, considering the setting, you might expect Tripp to be chromed or biomodded to the gills. But nah, he was all natural. Just like me, Tripp had Magic. His Magic just expressed itself differently. See, the Magically Awakened expressed themselves in two fundamentally opposed ways. Mages like me externalized their Magic. Physical Adepts like Tripp internalized it. They Changed themselves instead of Changing the world around them. And make no mistake, Adepts could be some scary motherfuckers…"
"Understandable. Internal Magic is a terrifying field of study and expertise," Klarion shuddered slightly.
"Chrome and Magic didn't mix?" Ciri asked.
"Not usually," I shook my head. "It's a Ship of Theseus argument, when you get down to it. If you're born with a set Astral template, then each piece of chrome tunes your physical template away from it. You're not necessarily losing parts of your soul or anything so dramatic. Just shifting the 'frequency' you project into the Astral to a different template. You're still you, you still have your soul, it's just a different 'you' than what the Astral knows to look for, connect to, and flow through. For most people, barely a problem unless taken to the farthest extremes. For Mages and Adepts, well, even a little bit of disconnect causes… static."
"Fascinating-…" Hecate began.
Harley cut her off with a teasing jeer, "Boooo~! No more Magi-physics BS~!"
"Right, right, I'm getting sidetracked," I admitted. "Now, my second friend in that life was one I met in college. She fell in with me and Tripp quickly, though. She had a similar level of drive and determination to prove herself as I did back then, and Tripp got along with anyone willing to look past his intimidating appearance.
"She was a Dwarf named Grenda. But woe to anyone who called her that name. Even when I first met her, she went by a street handle: Goldy. Goldy the Dwarf. Yes, I'm aware. The jokes write themselves."
Goldy appeared in the mirror beside Tripp, almost his polar opposite. She only came up to his waist and wore a perpetual scowl on her face. And yes, for someone so short, she was surprisingly curvy.
Traditional Japanese Yakuza tattoos covered her skin, covering almost unnoticeable seams in her flesh. Her hair was a fiery crimson-red, standing like a plume of exhaust flames from a ponytail at the back of her head. She carried a monstrous single-edged cleaver of a sword and dressed like a disgraced samurai.
"The team's shortstack," Becca nodded. "Even more good taste, choom~!"
"That chrome?" David asked with a keen eye. "Looks like good shit. Can't even notice it at first glance. Gotta wonder what she's chippin'…"
"Name a piece of chrome," I deadpanned. "Goldy probably had something equivalent. Shorty was dangerous. And it always felt like she could do anything she put her mind to. She was Didi-damned indomitable.
"To make things worse for our enemies, her family had a legacy as Yakuza enforcers. The kind you call when you want no witnesses. She was exiled from them, but never completely cut off. Family drama. She still learned the family business, though. She learned it well. Even as a teenager, she was earning a rep. 'Course, her rep took something of a hit with her exile. That's why she was down at our level. It was a boon for me and Tripp, though. Goldy would become our Infiltrator. A chrome fucking ninja."
"(￣_￣)・・・" Cass paused. '… Goals.'
"No chrome unless you desperately need it," Barbara glared at her.
"(„¬ᴗ¬„)" Cass shot her a smug side-eye. 'I'll find a way.'
Barbara groaned and hung her head in defeat, "Ugh… You will. You absolutely will, and I hate it."
"<(￣︶￣)>" Cass preened. 'Don't resist. Join the Chrome Transhumanism train. We've got data-cookies and hidden weapons~!'
"Choom's got her priorities straight," David chuckled.
"So, a crew of three?" Penguin asked curiously. "I'm not hearing a, what was it called? Decker? Your hacker. Or a Face, though I suppose you've got violence well-covered already."
"Our Decker and Face will join us mid-story," I chuckled. "Tripp, Goldy, and I got through a relatively uneventful first year at U-Dub. In our second year, we decided to start taking small jobs together. Just student gigs, really. In preparation for making something of ourselves after we graduated. One of those jobs was given to us by a clique of stereotypical rich mean girls. They wanted us to humiliate their social rivals. Real petty shit. But a gig's a gig, they were willing to pay very well, and we were too small time to be picky."
Deathstroke shook his head, "I don't envy having to start out that way. Petty contracts from rich kids… At least it isn't petty wetwork for rich kids…"
"Collegiate wetwork might be a step too far," Barbara deadpanned.
"Eh, what's a little murder between lectures~?" Harley asked, making a whole show out of her shrug.
"Extra credit, some might say?" Ivy offered, smirking.
Harley beamed a smile back at her, "Heh, that's why I love ya, Red."
"Like I said," I shrugged at it all. "We were small time. Really small time. But the rich girls were paying us 15 grand for a little humiliation."
Becca perked up at the mention of money, "You know, suddenly I'm much more interested in taking gigs from rich kids."
"It's not worth it," Deathstroke sagely advised. "It's never worth it."
"Our targets were two girls. They-… well, I wouldn't call them 'popular girls'," I considered as I spoke. "They kept to themselves, mostly. But they were the kind of girls who were actually smart and competent and successful. The clients hated that. They wanted to throw some dirt on 'em. So at a party one night, I set about seducing them for that dirt."
The targets appeared in the mirror as I laid the scene. Tellingly, they appeared standing with Tripp and Goldy…
"Oho~?" Ciri raised a brow. "I think I see where this is going."
The first was an elegant young woman of unparalleled beauty. Her skin was soft, brown, and flawless. Her hair fell short on her head and black as the deepest night. She was draped in tasteful gold and silks, looking more in place in a Middle-Eastern palace than a Pacific Northwest university. Her features came across as royal, cool, and demanding, without venturing to haughty, hostile, or cruel. She was a woman who accepted only the best, and the world itself often leaped to give it to her.
The second woman was just as charming as the first, but in a very different way. She had the pointed ears and supernatural charisma of an Elf… but absolutely none of the confidence one might expect to come along with her nature. Even in the mirror, she was visibly nervous, her vision trying to stay half behind the first woman. She always looked mere moments away from poking her fingers together. Adorably awkward, almost perpetually teary-eyed, and perfectly pathetic.
"Sean," Didi gave me a preemptive, stern look. "You better not have made the Elf girl cry."
"(＾་།＾)!!" Cass 'exclaimed', her nose already bleeding. 'It's okay! Elves are for bullying, everyone knows that! Bulli the Elf!'
"You know, sometimes…" Jason considered aloud. "Cass really is the wisest of us all."
"Don't worry, my Death," I reassured Didi. "If I ever made her cry, I made sure to kiss it better afterward. Aftercare is important when bullying your Elf GF. Everyone, meet Neferati and Liz, the last members of my shadowrunning team. Anyone care to take a crack as to the roles they took up?"
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the socially awkward Elf wasn't in charge of being the team's Face," Penguin said.
"Also," Falco added. "Neferati could make me… do things. I'm enough of a man to freely admit that."
"Understandable," Klarion declared. "Based, even."
"She had that effect on people," I chuckled. "And she was much more than she seemed on the surface. At first, the plan was simple. I was supposed to seduce her and Liz at that party I mentioned. Tripp — the legend — was acting as my wingman. Goldy just scowled, said she'd watch my back, and then disappeared for the night. I think she and Tripp woke up together…"
"Aww, they'd be cute together~!" Harley cooed.
"Hot," Becca leered. "8-foot tall beefcake vs. 4-foot shortstack, everyone wins!"
"But anyway," I continued. "I successfully got an invitation back to Neferati's dorm. It was more of a penthouse than a dorm. Liz was dragged along by Neferati. 'For your own good, you horny creature,' she claimed. The three of us had a… very pleasant night together."
"No detes, choom~?" Becca pressed.
I refused, shaking my head, "My daughter's listening."
Alice let out a sigh of relief, "Thank Mom for that."
Smirking, I added, "All I'll say is that Elf ears wiggle~ So much so that Liz looked like she was trying to fly out from between me and Neferati."
"＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／" Cass cheered as if I'd made all her dreams come true. 'Elf Bulli!'
"Bulli, indeed," I agreed. "But come morning, Neferati confronted me. She figured out I had 'hidden' motivations. But she was also honestly impressed by my… showing. So she offered to buy out our 'contract' if my team and I came to work with her and Liz. By that point, I was much more interested in her than some rich, mean girls. And I only got more interested as she revealed her true form and nature…"
"You fucked your way into more gainful employment," Barbara deadpanned. "I'm not even surprised."
"So, true form? Any bets?" Penguin offered.
"Dragon," Two-Face snorted. "No contest. It's the only one we're missin'."
"Got it in one," I said. "But so far, we've only heard about Great Dragons. The ones who've lived long enough to come into their true power and potential. Neferati wasn't a fledgling, but she was far from 'Great'. She'd been born to the Great Dragon Hestaby — one of the better 'Greats' — in the Fourth World, but at the tail end of it. So Neferati only experienced a few years way back then before her whole species went into hibernation until the Sixth World. Essentially, she was a Dragon teenager. But a teenage Dragon is still a Dragon. Neferati brought us into the big leagues."
"Big leagues with a not-so-big Dragon…" Riddler muttered. "Why do I feel like there's something there…?"
"I don't know about all that," David shook his head, grinning. "But Dragon Princess Edge-… Shadowrunner, whatever. That's pretty nova, choom."
Diana laughed lightly but genuinely, "Even Dragons must find their own way through the world! It's rather rare to hear about one of those awesome creatures in such a relatable stage of their lives."
"Oh, yes," Hecate agreed. "Typically, the 'Greats' shine so bright that the rest of the Dragons fall to obscurity. I imagine Neferati had just as much inborn potential as her mother, simply not yet realized?"
"I wasn't an expert in Dragons," I demurred. "But that sounds about right. 'Great Dragon' was just the title for those Dragons at the peak of their lifecycles. They were the oldest, wisest, and most magically potent. But the younger Dragons couldn't be easily dismissed, either.
"Neferati alone was as sharp and canny as the rest of the team put together. She always ran at least two mental partitions, each with processing power that put supercomputers to shame. She could naturally fly, of course. She breathed not flame… but scorching sand like the most vicious sandstorm. And her breath was just the most direct weapon at her disposal. She was a prodigious magical talent beyond that. She might've been our Face, but she was also our Plan Z if shit went really tits up."
"Understandable," Ciri nodded. "I would've liked to see Smasher stand up to even a young Dragon…"
"You dealt with him well enough on your own, Ciri," Falco reassured. "Cut the borg boogeyman down to size real good."
I smirked at her as well, "Even against a Dragon, I wouldn't count out a Witcher."
Ciri blushed but didn't look away, "I… shall take heart in your confidence in my abilities, my friends."
"Now," I continued my story. "The big leagues… By the summer of our second year, Neferati scored us a real run with her connections — Dragon Princess and all. It was a corpo run, we knew that going in, at least. But the run's Johnson didn't let us in on much more information from the start."
"Oooh~ Properly ominious~" Klarion grinned.
"Not really," I shrugged. "Just the norm in the Shadows. Even if you're 'Need-to-know'… you probably won't learn much until you actually get on the job."
"That seems horribly inefficient," Deathstroke scoffed.
"Everyone hates loose ends, bossman," Lucy said. "And not everyone has a rep like yours to avoid treatment like that from clients and fixers."
"We made do with what we had," I said, resuming. "From the initial debrief, we knew it was a Horizon run. Horizon was… the media megacorp. Think… all of Hollywood, corporatized. On the surface, at least. They were more diverse than that in practice, of course, as any megacorp has to be.
"Horizon's real business was in information of all kinds, from social networks to espionage. Mess with that, and you'd get hunted to the end of the Sixth World. Other than that, though, they were honestly one of the better-reputed AAAs. PR will do that to a corp… They at least knew the benefits of appearing as if they cared about their workers. But… never ask Horizon about the Dawkins Group. Those motherfuckers made Amanda Fucking Waller seem like amateur hour."
"Now, that is high praise," Deathstroke noted, raising an eyebrow.
Klarion shuddered, "Terrifying praise…"
"Gnarly~…" Harley chuffed and chortled. "Not just corpo spies, but a Spy Corporation~!"
"And even apart from the spying, I can't imagine they practiced the ethical business they seemed to preach," Barbara added.
"Oh, Didi, no. You don't get to AAA status while letting pesky things like ethics get in the way of profit," I confirmed. "They had a good reputation. But they were still corpo. Thankfully, our run was focused on media production, not paydata. There was a SimSense flick — essentially, living a movie — in production. The Johnson wanted us to, quote, 'ruin it by any means you deem necessary'."
"Crashing a mainstream BD," Lucy nodded in understanding. "Sounds like a pretty preem gig."
"Tough, too," Becca said, surprisingly canny with her commentary. "There's real scratch behind those productions. Like, REAL scratch…"
"Our thoughts exactly at the time," I nodded. "We decided to take the run slow and quiet. Neferati came through with auditions and positions for the production. For some reason, I was pushed into a leading role, with Neferati acting as my agent, Goldy and Tripp as my security, and Liz taking a job as a production editor."
"Wooo~!" Harley cheered. "Gothboy Movie Star~!"
"'For some reason'…" Ivy shook her head in amusement.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, faking offense.
"You can exude some major main character energy sometimes, Sean," Barbara laughed.
"I'll have you know, I'm almost never the real main character in the worlds I've lived in," I retorted.
"Yet you find a way to collect a story every time. And your filmography in that role is now 69-deep, Dear," Didi smirked.
"Whatever," I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Already, we were off to a flying start with the run. But for the first month of production, we just integrated ourselves into it all. The Director was a 'visionary'. As in… the kind of creative who was blind to everything but his vision. But he was successful, and with his proven track record, Horizon spared no expense on his behalf. He dreamt it up, he got it. Unlimited creative freedom, backed by megacorp resources."
"Sounds like an artist's dream, Dad," Alice said.
"And everyone else's nightmare," I corrected. "The Director was, also, a complete and utter dickbag. If he wanted something, it had to happen. Or else people started getting fired first, privately blacklisted second, and publicly shamed third. Neferati quickly became crucial for that run, working her social magic to keep us all out of the line of fire."
"Fuckin' harsh," Two-Face winced.
"He made himself enemies that way, I'm sure," Catwoman commented. "Was that where the job came from?"
"It's likely," I nodded. "We figured the whole run was an internal Horizon affair, really. Someone he'd worked with in the past who had a justifiable grudge. And we were there to do their dirty work. From the inside, we set up a whole bunch of sabotage methods. Liz slipped a virus into the production's editing software. Neferati was stirring up discontent on the down-low. Goldy made herself a little assassination backdoor into the Director's suite. We could've pulled the trigger whenever… Then, that oneday of filming came…"
"╰(● ⋏ ●)╯" Cass raised her hands to slap them down on the bar, leaning forward. 'I'm ready for glorious, glorious schadenfreude!'
I chuckled, setting the stage, "During the usual filming, the Director had been growing more and more discontent with how 'fake' everything was…"
"Not a good sign, already," Jason winced.
"So, with his unlimited creative freedom and practically black budget, he decided to make the production 'real'. The action needed to be visceral. The enemies needed to be true threats. The Director himself had to be in danger! So… for the big setpiece to herald the start of the film's apocalyptic setting, he rounded up exactly the danger he was looking for and set it loose on the set with orders to keep filming no matter what happened. Our simple social run suddenly turned very, very loud and very, very violent…"
The chaos I'd laid out sprang to life in the mirror behind me. A horrifying crossbreed of lizard and monkey leaped at an unsuspecting stage tech from the set's rafters, needle-like fangs bared and only bloodthirst in its eyes.
A hairy, painfully contorted, and muscularly hunched humanoid tore straight through one of the production's crew and chased after another with the first's flesh still in its teeth.
An otherwise normal-looking woman with pale skin, bulging veins, and fangs crouched over a body, draining it dry.
A ghastly albino Elf shrieked and shrieked and shrieked until the actor it was focused on collapsed into convulsions and the creature began to feed on his still-living fear.
And all around, hairless, horrible, corpse-eaters feasted on the flesh of the fallen, swarming in hunting packs that didn't even leave bone behind.
The bar fell silent at the carnage on display. I took the chance to explain what they were seeing.
"This is MMVV. Short for huMan-Metahuman Vampiric Virus. But as you can see, it doesn't just take the form of 'vampires'. There were Vampires, yes, but it also made Banshees, Werewolves, Goblins, and Wendigos, depending on the victim's initial Metahuman species, and Ghouls most commonly of all. But no matter the transformation, the virus had one throughline: its infected could no longer live without consuming Metahuman Essence, be it flesh, blood, or emotion. And other than their cannibalistic hunger, most infected were entirely rational. Rational… but forced to become cannibals and vampires and soul-suckers… There was no cure."
"By all of the divine spirits on Mount Olympus…!" Diana let out a shaky exhale.
"Holy… uh, holy shit, choom…?" David ventured, sounding so horrified that he was almost asking permission to be horrified.
"… At least we've never had a gig go that scopped up," Falco muttered. "Even MAX-TAC would have their hands full…"
"The Smasher gig was close, but at least we were prepared for the violence. Having it spring off that suddenly…?" Becca, of all people, shuddered. "Straight outta a nightmare XBD."
"(╬ Ò﹏Ó)" Cass scowled. 'All that infected junk sounds an awful lot like biological warfare without the 'war' to me. But I propose we can make an exception and still try the Director for war crimes!'
"Yes. That… and I can't stress this enough," Barbara said slowly. "Is. Fucking. Horrifying."
"They still have rationally thinking minds?" Ciri asked. "Then, why…?"
"When infected with unnatural hunger, I imagine one can be driven to extreme actions even easier than most," Didi sadly shook her head.
"Yep," I confirmed. "That Vampire? Their veins only bulge like that when they're on the literal verge of starvation. I can't imagine the other infected were treated much better before the Director released them on the set."
"Silver lining," Deathstroke offered flatly. "I think your run now qualified for ALL of the hazard pay."
"We had to get out of there without being eaten or infected first," I deadpanned right back. "… So anyway, I started blastin'."
Becca nodded approvingly, "The only correct response."
"Like my Mentor Spirit," I grinned. "I brought the fire. Fireball, Fireball, and more fucking Fireball, along with a generous touch of Napalm alchemically prepared in a bottle for a Magical Molotov™. When in doubt? Burn that shit down."
"You know, for once, I'm going to say that's completely valid," Barbara admitted.
"☆⌒(>.<)" Cass threw out a silly gesture as if casting a spell. 'I cast…! Nuclear EXXXX~PLOSION~!'
"…" Barbara paused and shrugged. "Less valid, but still understandable."
Harley nodded sagely, pretending to stroke an imaginary beard on her chin, "Hmm, yes, the Council of Chaos Gremlins shall allow it."
Becca nodded just as sagely, adjusting an invisible monocle, "Hmm, yes, seconded, choom."
In the mirror, my fiery rampage played out in full glory. I pulled Tripp and Goldy behind me, not even risking the chance they'd get scratched and infected. Then, across a whole movie set, I burned. Ghouls and Vampires and Wendigos and Werewolves burned with me. Like my Mentor Spirit to Humanity, primordial fire was gifted to the infected. Instead of the ultimate tool in mankind's arsenal, they received peace from their cursed condition, even if it had to be forced upon them.
"Thankfully," I commentated. "The asshole who started that mess was also one of the first to go. The Director was turned on immediately and torn limb from limb, flesh from bone. Couldn't have happened to a better idiot, in my opinion. Unfortunately for everyone else on the set, collateral damage was kinda the name of the game… I likely burned as many victims as I did infected that day. Now, I can only hope they would've understood my decision…"
"It's a tough situation, with only tougher solutions," Diana consoled with sympathy.
"At least you were thorough," Deathstroke took another route of consolation.
"Very thorough," I nodded. "'Cause after my best Firebringer impression came our Plan Z. Neferati in her Draconic form and absolutely no desire to become the first MMVV-infected Dragon."
A roar shook the bar from within the mirror. A fierce Dragon appeared over the production set, her scales shining the same pink-gold as a desert sunset. Young as she was, Neferati was 'only' 6 meters from snout to tail, almost triple that in wingspan, and 2.5 meters at the shoulder. But hovering there, she was as Great as any of her species could ever be.
Below her, the fires I'd brought burned and burned. Then, she opened her jaws and brought a scorching sandstorm with her breath to smother it all. The Horizon set was buried by a small desert appearing in the middle of the city. Completely and utterly buried. Made into a tomb in an instant.
"The run's objective to 'ruin production by any means' was accomplished in rather dramatic fashion," I said. "But when you're the only survivors of an event like that, you can write the record rather well. We got paid and decided that discretion would be the better part of valor for the rest of the summer. Or at least… I thought we decided that."
"What's that mean, Gothboy?" Harley asked, cocking her head.
"Well," I sighed. "Liz had her job in the production's editing team, remember? And the cameras never stopped rolling, not even to the burning, buried end. 'Somehow' — and I still blame Neferati for this more than Liz — a very well-edited view of the run was leaked into the Matrix. For the whole world to see…"
Klarion snorted a laugh, "Ha! If a Dragon's not showing off, are they really a Dragon~?"
"Hell of a big break, choom~!" Becca laughed.
"Did any of your Magic professors end up giving you extra credit for it?" Hecate asked, honestly curious.
I couldn't help a snort of my own laughter, "One did, actually. My Alchemy professor was rather charmed by the 'Napalm in a Bottle' Magical Molotov™. She helped me patent it and everything. Not that the extra credit itself was all that useful. We didn't really get the chance to finish our third year at U-Dub as a result of that all."
"Huh? Why not?" Alice furrowed her brows in confusion. "You were famous, right?"
"Exactly," Lucy was the one to nod and explain it. "Famous for knocking over a megacorp's production, their product, their profit… Not a good look if you wanna get through school in peace."
"Well, that's just bull…" Alice grumbled.
"You only know the half of it," I elaborated. "Horizon did, in fact, start hunting us down. But publicly, they claimed us for themselves. Claimed us as Horizon agents that were just rooting out corruption, incompetence, and delinquency within the megacorp. So at the same time that they were putting us on the run, they were making a pretty PR profit off us."
"Typical corpo bullshit," David scowled.
"At the very least," I shrugged, mentioning the silver lining. "That run was rather effective at jumpstarting our rep in the Shadows."
That made David's scowl flip around into a grin, "Oh, yeah, choom! Can't ask for a much better first impression than burning and burying everything while you ghost off!"
"Just one run in, and already your crew were goin' hard," Falco nodded in respect.
"We got more runs after being pulled firmly into the Shadows," I said. "Thankfully, they were less eventful than the first one. Then, a few months down the line, Liz was contacted by something in the Matrix… An AI-…"
"Oh, fuck," Lucy paled dramatically. "That right there… That's a netrunner's worst nightmare. I can't imagine it was much different for 'Deckers'."
"You'd think so," I chuckled. "But honestly? This AI was very friendly. AI had a… fraught reputation in the Sixth World. But Pulsar — the AI that contacted Liz — wanted to change that. He wanted his people to be accepted as, well, people, not digital boogeymen. To that end, he was looking to do good for the world. And a team of famous and powerful shadowrunners would be a valuable asset to have in his digital back pocket. Good people, Pulsar. He gave us the resources and backing to start doing good things in the Sixth World, instead of just eventful things."
"It kinda set the course of our careers, though. We were pulled past the big leagues, to be honest. Some of the runs we did at that point… Well, I'll leave them as stories for later. The mercenary lifestyle isn't for everyone. But it can be fulfilling," I finished with a smirk directed at David. "You just gotta get good enough that the people you wanna work with offer you jobs you wanna do."
"To being the best in our fields~!" Harley exclaimed, raising a toast. "Good enough to tell anything we don't wanna do to fuck right off~!"
"I'll drink to that," Deathstroke was already sipping his drink.
"σ(￣,￣〃)" Cass casually scratched the side of her head. 'So you're saying… I just have to get good enough at all of that sexy-hexy, mating-pressing, backshotty, squirty-flirty business that I can tell Daddy to fuck me right off?'
The whole bar stopped and simply stared at Cass. Just stopped (several mid-motion)… and stared… Then, Harley leaned forward with a jester's grin, "It's a bold strategy, Cass. Let's see if it pays off for ya~!"
"She's got the spirit," Becca added. "No one can deny that much."
"Honestly, I'm eagerly watching to see just how far she'll take it at this point," Didi chortled with amusement.
Alice, however, was far, far less amused, "CAAAAASSSSSSSS!"
That might just have been the final straw that start a lifelong rivalry between adopted daughter and the thirsty, thirsty girl who very, very much wanted to fuck her dad… In the end, I think it was the rhyming that really did it. Ice cold, Cass. Ice cold and well-played. Judging by Didi's amusement, I'm sure Cass would get the win she was looking for one of these days…