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[Pancaek]

"Uh-huh. I thinks you need a new sales pitch, omae. Because a well-paying milk run by some random stranger telling me to go to some seedy bar sounds like a great way to get myself geeked. Ya better start giving some details. Yer a fixer, roight? Ya know how important trust is.", Muffin Man replies in a calm tone, picking some pastry from his tusk.

[Doubloon-Seven]

"I won't not be there. Details?

[cronos5010]

Jack Frost
The commlink winks out life in your hands moments after the man that you assume is your fixer hears your response. (4) Rather unfortunately on the way to the meeting you forgot to grab an umbrella in your enthusiasm, and you found it quite hard to hail a taxi cab for some odd reason, by the time you arrive at "The Skumm Barr" you would have scant moments to spare before the meeting itself actually started.

Right now you are staring at a one story dive bar, you can tell that it is a dive bar simply because it has the "grimy cardboard box" aesthetic that most people associate with a dive bar, although someone has put some effort into keeping the green neon sign well lit and proudly proclaiming the words "Skumm Barr" for some reason.

404
The commlink spends a tense 14 seconds humming and clicking before their response arrives in the form of "Very famous rat for a group of exterminators to injure discretely. The payment is 2,000 nuyens non negotiable and it will be transferred to an account of your choice after we have received confirmation about the rat's injury. You will need to work with two others, more information will be given inside of the Skumm Barr". The commlink spends a bit of time waiting for your response.

Muffin Man
The voice on the other end of the commlink spends a few scant moments humming and clicking before he responds with "Fine, I need you to be the backup plan for an assassination job, just the guy that get's the rest of the group out of the inevitable shit storm when everything is said and done and the mark is bagged and tagged. The job is worth 2,000 nuyen, and the drek head of a target will be the keytarist in a band performing in a concert in Castor Park." the commlink emits some more humming and clicking sounds soon afterwards.

[Doubloon-Seven]

"I accept."
Hide my gear in a briefcase, (Or on my person if I don't have one) and walk to Union Street.

[Pancaek]

"Well, that's more like it. I suppose I need the dosh. Ya still haven't told me what to call ya though."

Muffin man will put on a pair of sweatpants and a "Get Swole" t-shirt, to go with the duffel bag and compliment the whole "just got out of the gym" outfit. Then he'll put on his trenchcoat and sunglasses and go to the meeting place.

[cronos5010]

404
(5)
You rather unfortunately fail to find your briefcase, and you spend a bit of time mulling over where you could have left it.
( 8 )
You successfully hail a cab in a way that would fit a regular and respectable business man and arrive at the meeting place with time to spare.
You don't spot anyone outside of the box shaped building, and the entire place seems like the sort of disreputable bar that a man down on his luck would drown their sorrows in.

Muffin Man
(5)
You eventually arrive at the bar, damp with rain and with moments to spare. You spot a peculiar looking Elf standing outside of the box shaped building, and you are not quite sure if you should talk to the....elf.
The man that called you was rather peculiar wasn't he? He said something along the lines of "Mr. Johnson, not a fake name, my family apparently wanted a son named Kyle Johnson, I don't know why.".

[Doubloon-Seven]

Enter the bar, and sit down in a corner bench.

[Pancaek]

((Just a question, are you going to roll for every action, even ones that logically should just succeed?))


Head into the bar and go have a seat, order some kind of cheap beverage and wait. When the barman brings the drink, tell him I'm supposed to meet Mr. Johnson.

[cronos5010]

((Actually no, that was just a bit of a test run. I wanted to see how "She" handled so to speak))
404
404 would sit in the corner most bench unnoticed for a good long while, and after 30 or so minutes had passed something interesting finally happens in the form of a rather powerfully built Troll walking into the bar with a rather large duffel bag.
The man had spoken to the barman about something you couldn't quite hear, but you can confirm that he ordered a drink. After getting a suspiciously unmarked bottle of syntohol that presumably "fell off a truck" the barman would spend a few moments staring at another corner of the depressingly empty room.

In that corner sat a Caucasian Human in a rather out of place seeming outfit, the man wore a rather visible looking black suit, and he had an honest to God trilby on top of his well kept blonde hair. The man looks up from his old looking commlink to look at the troll for a moment, before nodding his head very slightly.

Muffin Man
The Muffin man would find the service inside of the bar to be very prompt, it may have had something to do with how the entire place was pretty damn empty, there were at most five other people inside of the dingy bar, and one of them was the bar man.
Two other patrons were playing pool on a surprisingly well preserved pool table, and it was a close match between the Orc woman and the Elven...elf.
The match was still continuing as a surprisingly jovial looking barman slowly but surely walked towards The Muffin Man with his "Beer", and he dropped it off on Muffin's table. After the question was asked the barman would simply look intently at Muffin's face before slowly switching using his eyes to try and subtly point at a man who you assume to be "Mr. Johnson".

[Glass]

Go in and meet with the person I'm supposed to meet with. They should be here by now.

[Doubloon-Seven]

Approach the bartender for a light drink.

Spoiler: Sheet (click to show/hide)

Name: Houston Powerless

Shadowrunner Handle: 404

Description: The everyman. Bland suit, cheap tie, nothing that suggests anything off from average.

Race: Human

Why: Being a little farther away from the government.

Equipment:
Suppressed Pistol: To quietly kill people|+1|12/12|Semi-Automatic
Cyberdeck: Hacks thingies|+1|Does not include hidden gun|Ain't a gun
Garrotte Wire: To kill people while conserving bullets|+0|Nah|It's a glorified rope
Datajack: Allows use of hackingstuff|+0|Nyet|Not applicable
Micro SMG: For when the cat has escaped it's bag|+0|25/25|Full Automatic

[Pancaek]

Muffin man gives the bartender a grateful nod, takes a swig from his beverage and then hauls up his bulk to walk over to the man the bartender pointed out.

"Mr. J, I presume?"

Go and sit with the guy the bartender pointed out. See what he has to say.

Spoiler: Muffin Man (click to show/hide)

Real Name: None o' yer biz, chummer
Shadowrunner Handle: Muffin Man
Description: He's big, nearly 2.5 meters of muscle. But he's a troll, so that goes without saying. Greyish skin, with two tusks portruding from his mouth and four small horns on his head. The two horns on the left side are broken off halfway.
Race: Troll
Why: I have no intention of becoming a wageslave, omae.
Equipment:
[Formats are:  Name of Equipment: Purpose|Rating|Ammo If Applicable|Firing Mode/Modes if Applicable]
Shiawase Armaments Nemesis (machine gun, bipod + smartlink attachments): To shoot things, a lot|+1|50/50|Burst fire/full auto (+1 to convincing people I'm a professional)
Armoured Shadowrunner's attire: To protect myself and look styilish all at once| +1|Grey/black combat fatigues with an armour-lined black duster. Also mirrored sunglasses, because you gotta have yer sunglasses.
Cybereyes: To have several extra vision modes|+0|Binocular zoom, heat vision, infrared, camera, Sudden Brightness Compensation, Low Light mode, HUD.
Datajack: Can't go wrong with this in the 6th world, also required for the smartlink |+0| Allows for more accuracy by showing the weapon's line of fire through the cybereyes. A small camera and laser rangefinder that feed into the HUD/AR also allows for accurately shooting around corners.
Certified Credstick: Money Money Money| +0| 1,200 nuyen

[cronos5010]

404
The bartender would take his order, and slowly but surely produce a small can with the image of a streaming cup of golden beer with a tuft of foam on the top emblazoned on a red and black circular symbol, the words "Rillbeer: Just like the real thing" are written directly underneath the symbol in large black letters.
Small and black lettering sadly proclaims the words "Light beer" directly underneath the brand name, and somewhere underneath the can you can barely make out the words "May not actually feel like the real thing".
The bartender lets out a series of mumbles that you think meant "Johnson?" Before he very briefly pointed his eyes at the trillby wearing man.

Jack Frost
You don't really recognize anyone inside of the bar, but to be brutally honest you are probably here to look at the flashy looking git sitting across the wall of testosterone and steroids.
Muffin Man
Johnson looks around the bar for a moment, as if trying to make sure that no one was listening in on their conversation, and he slowly but surely reaches his right hand towards the Muffin Man to offer a handshake. He had a confident smile on his face when he said "The one and only, but really we should wait for the other two to stop orbiting vaguely around us before we talk business".

[Glass]

Do I notice the guy with the trilby? Go over to him an complement him on his choice of headwear.

[Doubloon-Seven]

Take the drink, and walk over to 'Johnson'.