Ducks stands under a sputtering lamp in the parking lot of a Stuffer Shack, looking down at a not-entirely-new, shiny black Scoot. The sky's clear, it's dark out, and it's neither warm nor cool. She looks displeased. "Annie, it's cursed, I tell you," she says. "Somehow."

Andromeda takes her helmet off and sets it on the seat of her even less new red one. "What's not?" One eye is on Ducks, the other is on the enticing neon lights and the warm or cold or sweet or salty stuffers inside.
Annie's commlink chirps with an incoming call from Tequila Pete.
Annie's commlink chirps again.

Andromeda is perfectly capable of answering a call and thinking about what she'll eat and listening to Ducks and checking out the sky and securing the lock on her scooter. "Oh hey, it's Pete!" She smiles and activates the call mentally. "Hi!"
Pete: "Hey babe. Little job for you, quick-and-dirty like. Some cybervandalism and making a pain of yourself. Interested?"

Andromeda actually giggles and glances at Ducks. She still wants to hear whatever it is that's cursed. "Uh, sure, probably." Turning to one side so Pete can't see (not that he could anyway, being in her head), she grins in Ducks' direction. <<Hey, want to cause some trouble?>>
Pete: "There's a spot in the International District - looks like a garage or something - that someone wants to send a message to. Just go in there and make a mess of things, maybe put some of your artistic skills to work. Go nuts."
Pete: "You in?"

Ducks looks over at the Shack, runs a gloved palm over a scuffed-up patch of enamel on one of the scooter's fairings. The SE model had better suspension and was better suited to heavier metavariants. This ain't it. She doesn't look up. <<Let's light this candle.>>

Andromeda feeds the call over to Ducks' comm so she can hear. "Wait, you want us to go *in* there? Or.. you said 'cyber'..?"
Pete: "No no no no no. Don't go in. In fact, don't be anywhere you want to be again. They run a Trace and you'll have a swarm of angry bees on you right quick. Go in hot and be as far away as possible."

Andromeda comms over Ducks' AR <<..we'd better go inside and get going.. he doesn't like to give a lot of extra time on stuff like this.>>
Pete: "Hack it, crack it, pump 'em, dump 'em."

Andromeda blinks. "Just.. crash their node?"

Ducks quirks a brow, frowns slightly. She mouths around her tusks: What the hell? She shrugs, nods, seems amenable. "Footloose and fancy free," she sighs, placing the gloved fingertips of one hand on her sternum.
Pete: "They'll probably crash it if they find you loose in there. As I said, vandalize it a little, make it so they have to spend some time cleaning up. By the way, there might be one or two personas there. But that should make it fun, right?"

Andromeda says "Or..." she gasps "..wait!! You want us to dress it up? Can *totally* do that!""

Andromeda grins at Ducks and whispers out loud "..Cloud Castle! We have to!"
Pete: "Perfect. Who is 'us'?"

Andromeda turns back to Pete. "Oh, my friend who was with me for the last one you gave me.. with that woman, uh.. anyway, the last one you set us up with."

Ducks holds gloved thumbs and forefingers such as to define opposite corners of a square place. Via AR, to Annie alone, within that framed-out shape is a card that reads "I don't like Pete much." Not that she's saying no.
Pete: "Tag team, back again. Knock yourselves out. Just do it tonight."

Andromeda nods. "All right. Where do we need to go? You have the address and all?"

You paged Ducks with 'Oh, good. You're not supposed to.'.
Pete: "Yeah, sending." It comes through. Cross referencing reveals it to be an auto garage in the International District. At least, that's how it's registered locally.

Andromeda looks at that quickly. "So.. to get it clear.. all we need to do is make their node difficult for them to deal with?"
Pete: "Darling, far be it from me to tell an artist what to do. Cross-wire stuff, defrost the fridge, splash the walls with Humanis slogans, I don't care."

Ducks keeps looking distracted, as if waiting, or ignoring. Uncharacteristically fidgety, maybe even annoyed. Squints at the horizon, sets her hair to a faintly-glimmering mostly-black, with white tips. Listening the whole while though.
Pete: "And neither does the Johnson. They just want to send a message."

Andromeda nods again in understanding. "So... we want to fool with the *building*, not just the node?"
Pete: "Whatever you hacker types can do remotely. But as I said, don't be anywhere near it. They'll try to Trace you and won't respond kindly."

Andromeda says "All right.. whatever we can do, then. What does.. uh.. Mister? Johnson want to pay us?"

Andromeda looks a bit concernedly at Ducks. <<Are you okay? You look off. Your hair's black.>>
You can almost hear a chortle from Pete on the other end. "I was hoping you would forget to ask. Yes, this pays. I was authorized for 2K but I think I can double if you're bringing your tusker friend."

Ducks says, aloud but deliberately not via commlink or AR, "Hey! Pete. Seriously, I'm totally right here." After a moment, she tells Annie, <<I'm alright, just... twitchy. I'm not drunk.>>

Andromeda grins, an almost (but not quite) apologetic gesture. "Sorry... need to upgrade the old machine, you know? I'd much appreciate it. Between the two of us I think you can consider your building beautified. It'll be a community service."
The ogre adds: <<Besides, for adventuring I try to keep a low profile.>> She says while wearing *what* exactly?
Pete: "We good then? Let me know when you're done."

Andromeda glances at Ducks and gives Pete a nod. "Sure. See you later."
Pete mutters something and disconnects with a burp.

Ducks lies without much heat, "I like him. But he is what he is, right?"

Andromeda turns toward the Stuffer Shack. "Uh.. do you want to go get something? I want some choco-bombs... and.. yeah, I don't like him much, but he *did* help me." She shrugs, sighing slightly.

Andromeda says "He knows a *lot* of people, though."

Ducks looks at the blandly-lit tombstone shape that is the Stuffer Shack and speaks as if looking at unrelated things. Absently, a little off-putting: "There's a number of reasonable spots within half a kilometer of the place, if we're connecting directly. Or," she's not thinking clearly, "maybe we should be somewhere stupid and just route like hell across the Matrix." This conversation has nothing to do with stuffers. Which is sad.

Andromeda looks a bit confused. "..well, not near the building... and we could run all over on the way.. I've got an agent that I can set to worry about the traces I suppose..? Do you think that will be enough?" She pauses, unsure if it's the right thing to say "..do you want something to eat?"

Ducks says "No" all-too-quickly. Thinks more. "I say we ride the total opposite direction of where that place is and find your cafe or whatever. Arcade, even. If we don't recognize the place we arrive at it's obviously perfect."
The AR-glitzy facade is actually pretty drab and to be honest it looks like a repruposed tax assessor's office storefront with some cheap AR-reactive vinyl letters stuck on the windows advertising "boba tea" and "chocoslurps". Pulling up to a likely parking spot, Ducks almost coasts her little electric scooter to a graceful stop except when its electrical system seizes up and locks the tires and almost pitches her onto the sidewalk.
The interior of the place is as expected. The booths are assuredly private-ish and sport little cameras to subscribe to for monitoring oneself while in VR.

Andromeda is still a little unsteady on her own scooter. It usually drives itself, apparently. But at least the buzz from the choco-bombs is going. "Wow, this is neat! These little cameras are a great idea.." She sighs then, suddenly aware that she may not be coming back to this place anytime soon. "Oh well. All set?"
An orange-striped raccoon with a fluttery silk scarf stands inside a good simulacra of a Matrix cafe. Outside the doors lay pathways to wherever one might care to go. Such as the International District. It fidgets with a cheap plastic calculator icon in its grabby little paws.

Andromeda feels the disolve to VR as a rush of wind beneath her wings. She makes a lazy circle down just outside the cafe. the light from the neon signs glitters off her bronze scales. This time, a mane of brown curls hangs from her head as well. With a toss of her head and a shiver her body shrinks into a roughly human shape of a young adult dressed all in black holding a mug with the logo of the shop plastered on it. Whatever Stealth program she's running, it's a good one.
The raccoon puts on mirrored sunglasses. It's not quite the most-disguised icon ever. Maybe it'll work. Maybe it's stealthy enough. To the trained eye, the raccoon is not as bright-eyed, not quite as twitchy-quick as usual: heavy program load. Looks to the better-Stealthed Andromeda for a high sign.

Andromeda shoulders a black synth-leather satchel, still the routine for college students the world over. She smiles at the raccoon. "All set!" A set of small, round and highly unnecessary sunglasses go on too. Never know.
You slice your way through the city, picking your way carefully through various nodes, weaving a long web of connections behind you. Finally in the International District, you step in front of Shiro's Garage. It looks like a place for automobile repair, mostly motorcycles. The exterior is black, gray, and white. It is meticulously clean and looks well-maintained.

Ducks the orange sherbet raccoon takes a quick virtual inventory of the node, studying it with some care. See the squint?

Andromeda has long left the coffeehouse disguise behind her. Here, she is a simple mechanic in coveralls, with a sturdy toolbox and a few other tools tucked in pockets and hanging through beltloops. Behind her is another small fellow, dressed similarly to her and looking awfully mundane and forgetable. One of those faces, I guess.

You paged Andromeda with 'The place is practically electric with activity. You're going to be greeted once you're in, you're almost certain of it.'.

Ducks huhs. "They have a special going on rigging equipment installs."

Andromeda looks through her welding goggles. One wouldn't think they'd be useful, but hey, the world just looks different through goggles. "Loooots of people in there. Should we go in quiet, or go in loud?"

You paged Andromeda with 'There's a professional system in there and it's trying to hide. Not corp-standard, but definitely more that street-standard.'.

Ducks seems distracted by swiffling AR emblems showing off what, exactly, they can do to electric scooters. "Well, once we get in I say we get creative. Mess with hardware systems, realworld."

Andromeda adjusts the goggles. "Ooooh, there's a nice system in there.. not corp, but not just a bike shop either. Somebody knows what they're doing.. hmmm. I'm not really looking foward to just bashing our way in. Sure, good idea."

Andromeda turns to her assistant. "Help us out and keep a lookout, would you?"

Ducks tests the secure link between her and Andromeda, ensuring as much data crossover as metahumanly possible. "Should we try for security access, or play it straight and be user accounts?"

Andromeda looks at Ducks as though she's sprouted a second head or something. "Is that a question? They don't know we're here.. swing for the fence!"
An hour of laborious work passes.

Andromeda fills it with chatter. "So I'm thinking when we're done, we should leave their reality filter running Cloud Castle only maybe color it pink instead of white. What do you think?"
The raccoon is starting to look a little... wilted. Whiskers drooping, it still continues its labor ceaselessly, all the while monitoring multiple AR windows of her meatside counterpart. In a small voice, the raccoon says, "I'm thirsty. But I would say... pink, but with a constantly-polmorphing fog rendered with weird elliptical algorhythms that make things harder to see the closer they are."

Ducks adds, "But clearer, farther."

Andromeda's disguise has her a utilities worker now, checking the meters outside. Nothing to see here. "Oh, good idea.. and the bounce, the floor should definitely bounce them. I always love the springiness of the floor when I use that one."
The raccoon stops working and backs up a step, takes off its mirrorshades and pushes them up on its head. Distinctly, in its chripy voice, it says, "Well, fuck me." Swishes its brushy tail in consternation and tilts his head as if in thought. "Hang tight."
The garage's color goes from white to red. With the black and grey, it looks rather unhappy.

Andromeda goes over to the raccoon. "What's the problem?" She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a.. meter, of some kind. Good for looking at things. "Uhhh... that's not good."
The garage door opens and the icon of a biker on a speedy little motorcycle zips out onto the street. The icon looks around and revs its engine. It's Trace IC.

Ducks gets a little unnerved, ears flicking, wringing its paws together. "Is that thing holding a little photoprint of a raccoon mugshot?" Hesitation, then the raccoon darts over to the biker. "Excuse me, but have you ever realized the sheer number of local singles who are online and totally waiting to hook up with you even as we speak? Click here." The Agent, meanwhile, pauses, thinks things over, then points in an arbitrary direction. "Go that way three systems, then turn left at the... wait, or was it descend a sublevel?"
The biker's head swivels this way and that, confused by being talked at from both directions at once.

Andromeda smiles, finally figuring out what's going on with the building security. When did her utilities uniform change to the local rent-a-cop company? At any rate, the maglock checker she was using to verify that the doors are locked does, indeed, show that they are good and locked.
The Agent points this way and that, the IC following his arm every time it moves. The IC sets it's kickstand down and nods dumbly at the conflicting directions of the spoofing Agent.
Starting to look entirely rattled, the raccoon spends more and more time glancing at the little Polaroid-looking windows into reality as if a SWAT team might suddenly bust into the pictures. One of the windows seems to be watching a toy panda with an unnerving, almost hypnotic stare. Little lines of sparks aim from the icon to the system at various key points, searching for a way in.
The raccoon smiles suddenly. Pointy teeth, pointy snout. Puts on a workman's cap.
<<Shall we?>> asks Ducks' avatar, with a smile.

Andromeda goes over and talks to the gangers out front. After a moment or two, they hand her two bandanas, one of which she passes to the raccoon. "We're part of the gang, now.. and nobody else is." She grins, then opens the door of the building. "Let's see what the inside looks like!"
The interior of the garage is sparkly clean. The design is minimalistic, with Japanese tones. There is electronic equipment everywhere in the garage, mostly related to servicing vehicles. It looks like there is plenty of other activity elsewhere in the building, including living quarters from the looks of it.
Silk scarf: fluttering. Eyes: beady. Nose: rendered as damp and bewhiskered. Company cap: lookin' goooooood. So geared up -- an inquisitive little paw adjusts the brim of the cap -- and imagining the beginning of a George Thorogood and the Destroyers song, the raccoon gets out an aerosol spraycan and shakes it (rattle rattle).
Okay granted it spends more time feeling super-pleased with itself than actually defacing anything, to start, chuckling self-indulgently. It spraycans a simple but large and easily-identifiable depiction of Munch's "The Scream" on a nearby surface.
The Trace IC outside cuts it's engine. The biker swings its leg off the bike, then leans against it. Flipping up the shield of its helmet, the icon inserts a digital cigarette and lights it, the glowing tip barely extending from the face mask.

Andromeda looks around. Oh my goodness, so much potential to fullfil and so little time! "I think we'll only have a few minutes.. so let's see how much we can get done!"
It's a relatively warm evening in Seattle. The building doesn't have AC but there is central heating. There seem to be all the electronics associated with living quarters, including cooking units, refrigerators, hot water heaters, etc.
The raccoon starts arguing with itself over what would be the most effeicient way to approach the problem of best covering this virtual environment in the least amount of time. Time passes. It starts spraywriting across the main showroom analogue: "What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire life, that there's something wrong with the world..."

Andromeda's little helper comes in from the front of the building. She grins at him and hands him a copy of the key to the front door. "Here you go... why don't you go into the kitchen and help the cooks? The best way is to make sure everything is running so they won't have to turn it on. And make sure the fridge is *really* cold!"
The agent nods and shoots down the hallway. You hear banging and rattling in the distance.
The autochef goes on full blast, shooting noodles out at high velocity. It follows by dumping broth all over the counter, lacking a waiting bowl.
Finally shutting up and getting into motion, the furry orange-and-tan avatar proceeds to start decorating the exterior of the building with a deliberately goofy-looking reproduction of... oh dear. Well, if you keep up with your pirate-feed yaoi tridanimations, it's this week's episode's cast.

Andromeda goes over into the repair bay. "These look like fun... do you know how to work these lifts?" She waits about a second before offering a little giggle. "It's okay, I don't either! Let's try this button..." she starts fiddling with some controls.
The agent is going to town down the hall. The fridge is turned into a freezer and the freezer goes into rapid defrost mode.
The lifts in the garage shoot to the ceiling. They begin to pump up and down like pistons.
Sadly, the lifts lacked cars, being nearly 2am and all. Actually, now that you think of it, most of the material around here seems to be for motorcycles. There are a couple of those just sitting there ...

Andromeda grins over at the raccoon. "...how fancy do you think those are? Think they have gyrostablizers on them?"
Raccoon? Humming to itself, shaking its spraycan (rattle rattle).
The cameras show a large number of young Japanese men rushing about. Some are in the garage, staring at the lifts pounding up and down. Others are shouting in the kitchen, doing their best to contain the mess. Most of them look like they fell out of bed, and rather a lot of them have tattoos. They look like young toughs.
After careful study of things, the raccoon spends far too much time thinking rather than doing. Does get around to painting some colorful unicorns and rainbows and clouds in a long mural-like progression down a virtual hall.

Andromeda can hardly stop laughing at the cameras. "Do you... do you see...." she'd have trouble breathing, if she were in the real world. "...oh, it's *fantastic*! Here.." The disguise falls away and the bronze dragon stretches itself to full size. A few blasts of flame leave lovely designs on the wall, and in the AR in the meat world. "..'Your ancestors hate you'." rumbles the dragon.
Two hackers arrive outside. They slam into the garage door, expecting it to open. Cursing, they begin hacking their own system.
One is dressed as a ninja, clad in black from head to toe. The other looks like a ronin, with elaborate armor and colorful robes.

Andromeda laughs as she turns toward the door. "Oh, we have visitors! Shall we turn on the outside lights for them and for our other friends outside?" She taps the gang bandana with a claw.
The ninja pulls out its katana and slices the garage door, leaving a large hack. The system seems to chirp, but misses the man clad in black.
Down the hall, the agent is flipping lights on and off rapidly, making them strobe lights. Anyone who wasn't awake before is now.
The bushido warrior takes a similar approach as the ninja, removing a sword icon and stabbing it into the garage door lock. He isn't as successful as the ninja. He removes the sword and prepares to strike again.
The system also fails to respond to the bushido's onslaught.
The small, fluffy raccoon has gotten sidetracked and begins drawing surprisingly-well-informed illustrations of bottles of liquor. The labels, for example, are easily-recognizable; bottle shapes and colors and contents have been lavished with inexpert but heartfelt detail. It catches itself and proceeds to paint digital doors to look as if they're open, and open doorways to look as if they have sealed doors.

Andromeda doesn't have much difficulty moving around even being as large as she is. The dragon trundles over to the control box and flips a switch with a claw. "Excuse me... we're closed, no deliveries today, thank you!" she rumbles as the red lights start to flash inside the building and out.
The exterior of the building shimmers from white to red again. A second garage door slams over the first, concealing the damage initially done by the duo outside.
The hackers growl and redouble their efforts.
They don't get very far. The ninja's sword bounces off the garage door, leaving only a superficial scratch. The bushido tried to bash in a window, but the electronic glass only cracks, it does not shatter.

Ducks pauses in meaningless but extensive mess-making long enough to wonder: "Do you have access to their employee database or calendar or activities log? Maybe you should edit or delete those, or copy them for resale."$rThe spraycan is swapped out for: well, nothing. Lines of sparks go from an empty open paw to thin air. One by one the raccoon starts to create half-meter cubes of wood, then change those primitives into different elaborate shapes, building complex and workable-looking objects, sculptures, and thingamajigs. "Sculpt map here, texture load there..." It seems to be creating random things with no unifying reason and putting them in annoying places. Maybe being annoying is a unified reason. A giant origami crane is planted in each hallway in a key, high-traffic spot.
(Meanwhile, in an almost-forgotten AR window: a red and white plastic panda dronelet twitches. It's not a repeated motion. Minor quirk in a timing routine? Maybe it was just a flutter in the camera's video feed, because, really, nothing has changed. Same flat smoked-glass button eyes.)
Outside the system, the two hackers - one with the persona of a ninja, the other with the persona of a ronin warrior - are combining their efforts against the firewall that has been turned against them. Success is eluding them, as the system is on active alert and is buttressing itself against their onslaught.
Silk scarf billowing in subtle invisible air currents, the orange and tan raccoon heroically: sort of stands there on its hind legs with one forepaw outstretched, a line of sparks silently passing from it to another weird object. Not another giant origami crane blocking a hallway, this time the fuzzy beast creates: rotating Humanis Policlub slogans. Right. These are placed here and there in conspicuous spots throughout the node.
Losing creative steam, the orange sherbet raccoon icon starts to pace past its previous redecorating attempts: the painted-on pit traps, the doors painted to look open and the open doors painted to look closed, the random origami, the mural of unicorns, the cryptic slogans and logos, the beautiful reproductions of bottles of booze. It inhales, sighs. Lackadaisically changes the color of a couple logos from orange to purple. Shakes its bewhiskered, orange-masked head.
The ninja and the ronin are taking turns slashing at the exterior of the system. The ninja is making better progress, but they're still not very close. The agent stands at the wall, patching the small cracks in the plaster as they appear.

You paged Andromeda with 'You find super-basic stuff. Nothing that seems particularly profitable. Logs of machine usage, some repair history, maybe some shift calendars. Basic stuff you'd find in a garage, nothing gang-related or that would suggest why this is a target.'.
A neatly-stenciled, very-official looking virtual sign blinks into existence in front of the ronin and ninja: black letters on gleaming white enamel announce CLOSED FOR RENOVATION and FUTURE LOCATION OF AUNTIE OTIS'S FINISHING SCHOOL FOR DISADVANTAGED GIRLS.

Andromeda peeks through the office but can find a moment to spare a grin at the raccoon. She gives a thumb-claw's up. "Sounds like just the thing for this place.. disadvantaged girls could really find some advantages here."
Outside, the previous scene repeats itself almost exactly. The ninja and ronin continue their work, the ninja being considerably more effective than the ronin. The agent continues to glue and plaster the wall but he can't quite keep up. There are cracks in the system, but they seem to be less than halfway through.

You paged Andromeda with 'You've now found some more, but still not terribly interesting. There's a list of names for the living quarters. All the names are of Japanese males. It doesn't include their SINs or anything terribly revealing. There are some very low-balance accounts to order soy and krill and the like, but it mostly looks like scraps.'.
The exterior walls of the virtual garage change to a healthy shade of rose. With little fleur-de-lis accents here and there.
The hackers outside are making progress. Cracks are appearing regularly, faster than the agent can patch them. The ronin has found his rhythm, exploiting the errors in the system created by the ninja. They'll be through the wall soon.

Andromeda can hear the ronin and the ninja beating down the door.. she knows it won't last forever, even though her little assistant is being very good about patching holes and things. "I know there must be... *something* in here... Um... do you want to take over here? I have one more thing I want to do."

Andromeda's claws are a little awkward for digging through files.. burning them up, now that would be easy, but picking one from another with big scaly talons is tough. "I'm trying to figure out who these guys are... obviously they're Yakuza, but there's no proof yet.. there must be some in here.."
The raccoon icon ponders its handiwork (pawsiwork?). "I'm in the wrong line of work. People get paid for this?" She calls to the dragon, "Need a sidekick in there? I'm housebroken."

You paged Andromeda with 'Some interesting stuff this time. Contrary to expectations, it is not a garage full of Yakuza, but rather a go-gang that's something of a feeder program for the Yaks. They call themselves 'The Nameless', seeming to refer to their quest to make a name for themselves in the larger criminal organization.'.

You paged Andromeda with 'There seems to be some communication with low-level Yak agents, but they're kept at an arms reach, the best you can tell. Still, one or two of the gangers have been promoted to tbe big leagues recently.'.

Andromeda picks a file out from one of the drawers with a couple of claws. "Ooh, look at this! THey're *not* Yakuza... they're just a gang. Ever heard of the 'Nameless'? That's these guys. Looks like the Yakuza are recruiting from them, though."
The raccoon strolls over, and puts on a little green-tinted visor. "Hm. Weird." AR windows scroll with status reports about apps loading.

Andromeda nods, her curls swinging ponderously. "Yeah.. that's sort of a surprise. I wonder who wants to send them a 'message'?" She shrugs, and opens the

Ducks says, absently, "Gimme me a couple ticks and I'll lay waste to their data structure cutely. I am the assistant file manager!" That's not a funny joke, even for geeks.
With a crash, the ronin bashes his way through the wall! He's in, and there's a gap in the system for the ninja to follow shortly!

Andromeda hears the wall break down and sighs, small puffs of smoke trailing from her nostrils. "Oh, bother... sounds like they got the door down. I think we're going to need a little more help here in a moment..." she pauses, calling out to her helper 'Come in here, please? I think I'm about to be hurt."
The ninja leaps through the wall, katana drawn and gleaming in the pink glow of the redecorated walls.
Whether he picks Annie because of her icon or because of her security access, he chooses to leave the raccoon for the ronin and go straight for the dragon.

Andromeda rolls her reptilian eyes and furls her wings about her a little. Everyone knows ninjas are no good in a straight up fight.. that's why they do all those sneaky things. Besides, she has scales. That katana is going to slide right off. Hey, look, more files.
The blades slices down toward Andromeda, who stares down the ninja with a bored look in her eyes. The blade bounces off the reptilian scales, utterly ineffective. The dragon yawns.

You paged Andromeda with 'Another file. The gang - actually a go-gang, as evidenced by all the motorcycles - has been getting pushed around recently. Despite their technical savvy, they're losing ground to a low-tech but highly magical gang that's much smaller. It's called 'First Nation' and their territory stretches from the edge of Lake Washington (from the bridge leading to Council Island) toward Downtown, which butts up against the International District.'.
Scarf fluttering, the little fuzzy icon scampers on all fours over to the ninja and, with a harmless-sounding growl and an athletic lunge, jumps up and latches onto the ninja's arm with pointy little teeth.

Andromeda smiles and takes one more file folder out of the drawer. "Losing ground, are you? It's not fun when someone gets in your space, is it?" She says this with the sort of voice one might reserve for a small child, while facing the ninja and holding the file up. Opening her mouth she tosses it inside. "Mmmmm, yummy.. excuse me, I have something to do." She brushes past him (in no hurry at all) and saunters toward the repair bay.
The ronin jumps up off the floor. Seeing ninja occupying the two personae, he decides to take a different approach. He rushes to the power grid and looks like he wants to crash the system, forcing a reboot.
It's a lenghty process. He starts but is going to need the ninja to buy him some more time.
In the real world, the gangers are starting to clear out their valuables from the building, not knowing how much longer the havoc will continue. In their underwear, they're jumping on their bikes and driving them out into the relative safety of the street.
A couple bikes remain, but most of the garage has been cleared out of vehicles.

Andromeda walks over to the bikes left in the repair bay, studiously ignoring the ringing and screeching of the ninja's sword on her scales. "Let's see.. which key is it.." Claws are tough to pick through keys on a ring, just like picking through files in a drawer. "No, no, no, ooh.. no.. guess not. No, no, no..."
The ronin works feverishly at his task and manages to succeed! The system is going to reboot at the end of the Combat Turn. The red lights stop, the pink lights dim, and the node begins to slow.
In an example of emergent results in loosely-defined animation sequences, the raccoon hangs limply by its jaws from the ninja, and just sort of... chews without otherwise being anything other than a stripey dangling pennant. Chew. Pause. Chew chew.
The ninja is really starting to look worse for wear. The persona is starting to pixilate and fade. It's integrity is breaking up.
The ninja raises its arm with the dangling raccoon, looking as if he will smite it into the ground. He can't seem to generate the strength to whip the rabid beastie into the ground. In fact, he can't summon the strength to remain standing. He topples over backward, the raccoon now sitting on his chest, teeth still firmly embedded in his arm.
The raccoon swishes its tail in acknowledgement of the effort, though.

Andromeda manages to find the right key on the ring and inserts it into the ignition on the bike. "Ooh, these are nice.." She offers a toothy grin to the raccoon on the ninja's chest. "Good job on him.. though I might suggest heading out? I think the house is coming down.."
The ronin races over to free his companion from the raccoon. He lines up a kick, intending to boot her through the uprights. His leg swings back and makes contact but achieves precisely nothing. The raccoon doesn't budge an inch and looks completely unfazed.
The raccoon pauses in chewing on the ninja to scratch its ears with a hind paw.
(Its own ears. The ninja, if it has ears, must fend for itself.)
The ninja on the ground is struggling valiantly. He swings his arm about but fails to dislodge the raccoon, which flutters in the breeze like a pennant.
The lights are dropping out as the node continues it's shutdown. It's only a second or two away from finishing.
Gangers are moving to grab the remaining bikes in the garage. They swear proficiently in Japanese city-speak.

Andromeda mounts the bike and turns it toward the ronin. "...and I must bid you, sir, a farewell.." With the tip of her tail she offers a mock-salute. It couldn't possibly be for the purpose of distracting him long enough for her assistant, who seems to have found a large monkeywrench somewhere to bring it down on the back of his head. As the man reels, she grins and guns the engine, speeding the bike out of the door and out of the node with a whole second to spare.

<OOC> Tecumseh says, "Clarification: bike has left the garage node, but not the physical garage."
The agent stand above the fallen ninja and clubs him judiciously about the brain box. The ninja stops swinging his arm and lays still. This completely disrupts the ronin's timing, who had anticipated the raccoon to be swung out to the side for one clean shot. Deciding to take the dumpshock and go out fighting, he swings at the raccoon only to find it somewhere other than he was expecting it to be.
The unperturbed raccoon gets to its hind paws, standing on the battered ninja persona and patting imaginary dust from itself and then performs this odd gesture of disrespect immediately prior to disconnecting: it sticks its tongue out while tugging down lightly one of its own eyelids, and with its free forepaw it pats its own rump. It pops out of virtual existence in a swirl of orange sparks.
Lights out! The node crashes, disconnecting your stream from the video cameras.
The building falls in on itself, creating a glowing hole in the ground. It begins to pulse as it slowly begins the process of rebooting.

Andromeda makes sure to patch a feed to Ducks, if she's still logged in somewhere. The bike's engine roars, the rear tire squeals, and slowly the bike drags its burning pigment-brush across the floor. In ten foot characters, the Japanese for 'STUPID', even completed with a little smiling face with its tongue sticking out. It's been a day for juvenile pranks.. no sense in letting up now.

Andromeda stirs as she finds herself out of VR. She stretches her wings... no, those are gone. Oh, yes, we're back in this world again. Rubbing at her eyes she glances over at Ducks and mentally checks the datasteal to make sure everything is intact.
The ogre is already stirring as her partner in vandalism awakens, alert and looking as if she wishes she were still logged in. Muscles protest. She pops her neck a little, smacks her lips, rubs her face and shakes out her hair and tests the point of each tusk with the pad of a thumb. Gets a big goofy grin as she replays recent events.
You have Pete on the line in a flash, your commlinks connected so you can share the conversation. It sounds like he is flossing, or picking his teeth with a toothpick. "What's the word, hummingbird? Talk to me."
Pete: "Give Tequila Pete some good neeeeeews." He sings the last word, and not terribly well.

Andromeda grins even though it's Pete. "A picture's worth a thousand words, right?" A shot of the repair bay floor pops up on Pete's AR. "How's that?"

Andromeda goes on nonchalantly. "oh, and we crashed their node and made a terrific mess out of their kitchen, and put a rather lovely AR mural on the front of the building... I do hope that stays, though I'm afraid it won't. I think my friend got a picture of it.. anyway. So do you know who those guys *are*?"
Pete gives a satisfied grunt. "Let me pass that along. Johnson will be amused. Trasmitting payment now."
Payment comes through swiftly.

Ducks murmurs in an unexpectedly low and smoldering tone, all vixenish and smiling tusky-wicked, "We did it all for *you*, Pete."
Pete snorts. "Yeah, I know who they are. Everyone on the street knows who they are. Japanese go-gang with ties to the Yaks. They've been getting their butts handed to them recently. They've always had a tech advantage but you just embarrassed them. So, well played."
Pete continues. "You haven't heard of them?" He grumbles something about female hackers. "Shouldn't be surprised, I guess."
Pete: "I do believe the Johnson will be well pleased."

Andromeda manages an eye roll. "No, I guess I haven't heard of them.. I have a job, you know, which doesn't entail knowing every group of kids on the street."
Pete says, "Now, now. Don't get your knickers in a twist. It's just a little gang war. Happens all the time in the sprawl. Did you have a good time?"
Pete: "How did your sidekick do?"

Ducks giggles.
Pete says, "Is she there? That wasn't your girlish giggle."

Ducks quips, "Her sidekick was elegance in action."

Andromeda says "..yes, my *partner* is here. She's good. She took on that guy in black, the non-ja."
Pete tries to lay on the charm. "Tell me you didn't have fun. I save the best gigs for you, toots."
A toilet flushes in the background.

Ducks pats down her pockets, checks her gear (as if it would have gone anywhere while she was away). She starts to say something but honestly has no idea how to respond to that.

Andromeda allows Pete a small smile. "Yes, I did. I need to run, though... thanks for the job."

Ducks tries to squeeze in, "Don't change for you; don't change a thing -- for me."
Pete says, "I'll pass along your work. Looks like high-quality stuff from the feed here. Keep building your rep - even better stuff will come your way."

Andromeda reaches into a pocket and pulls out the two candy bars she bought and passes one over to Ducks. She lifts the other up, offering a toast. "To victory?"

Ducks hoists the symbolic charm. "Verendus fortuna juvat, Annie."

<OOC> Tecumseh says, "Cut, scene, print!"