Ok, sorry for the delay. The muse is more interested in Clank machinations than Gamma humor, so I'm putting what I have so far up.
Unfortunately the Clank machinations are largely dependent on a few things that haven't been decided yet, so nothing for public consumption yet, But
I've got PLANS!
Anyway, onward with:
----------
Gamma Emission:
Pair Production (pt 2)
I was able to track down Marcus in one of the labs after asking three people and taking one wrong turn. When I did find him he was hunched over a bunsen
burner, intently stirring the contents of a flask and muttering under his breath. He was wearing the same style of lab coat that most of the magical pre-docs
seemed to prefer; white to show stains, plenty of pockets to hold things, and runic embroidery running up the both sides of the front as well as around the
collar and cuffs. His also sported a large sigil on the back that seemed to shift from green to blue as I waited for him to finish whatever he was doing. I
took a seat at one of the other lab tables and tried not to disturb him, interrupting a spell is not the best way to get into a mages good graces.
I didn't have to wait too long, after another ten minutes of murmuring, stirring, and occasional reheating the contents of the flask gave a small puff of
purple smoke. As Marcus's muttering took on a distinctly annoyed sound I cleared my throat. He spared a moment to glance at me before turning back to the
lab table and starting to clean up the various magical paraphernalia that had accumulated.
"Who are you?" He queried, clearly not happy with much of anything at the moment.
"Gamma Emission, Your Marcus O'Riley right?" I answered. I felt it best to keep grey market dealing like this as far away from my previous
employment here as possible. The last thing I needed was someone recognizing my real name and connecting it with deals of dubious legality.
"Yeah, how can I help you?" His tone didn't change in the least from his earlier annoyence. He didn't recognize my name, which was good. I
had run half the enchantment mages in the hospital ragged my first week here. Burning out the anti-radation wards on floor 5 was not one of my proudest
moments.
"I was told you were the go-to person for physical enchantments." I said, hoping that he wouldn't turn me down because I arrived at a bad time.
"I need to get a set of radiation proof sheets."
He stopped cleaning up the lab area and turned to face me. "Radiation proof sheets?" Clearly this was not in line with the normal requests he got,
but at least he sounded less annoyed and more confused.
"Yes, radiation proof sheets. I emit radiation when I'm stressed, and I'm sick of waking up in a sweat to discover everything within four feet of
my bed is now unsafe for normal people to be around." I let him draw his own conclusions as to why I was waking up in a sweat, the less said about my
particular sexual issues the better.
He thought about it for a few seconds, nodded to himself and picked up his notepad from the tabletop. "What are we looking at specifically?"
"Queen sized bed, from mattress cover to top-sheet. I've put out everything from 500 Terahertz to 200 Exahertz, but I mainly seem to be Petahertz
range. Both ionizing and non-ionizing. I currently top out at around 6000 Rem/minute, but I'd like a bit of a buffer if that changes." I rattled of
the numbers that had been made painfully clear just over an hour ago. Marcus scribbled in the notebook for a minute before glancing at me, then at the alarm
above the door as the numbers sunk in. I gave him credit for keeping the shock off his face. "Don't worry, I'm putting out less than what you get
from handling a smoke detector right now."
"Sorry." He responded, before focusing back on the calculation he was writing out. I didn't let it get to me, I knew just how dangerous I could
be. After a few minutes of scribbling notes he nodded to himself, and then looked at me with smile that seemed a little mercenary. "It's more material
than I normally deal with, and the frequency range is definitely a factor, but it's doable. I make no guarantees on the niceties though."
"As long as they still feel like sheets and do their job I could care less if they end up with poka-dots." The 'niceties', or not having the
spell display some weird innocuous side affects, is what the MAGI and other professional crafters were able to charge so much for. I had already become well
aquatinted with the eccentricities in operating room 5C. I could deal a set of sheets that wouldn't make hospital corners, changed their thread count, and
migrated to the foot of the bed if someone wasn't in it. "What are you going to need material wise? And how much is it going to set me back on top of
that?"
Marcus tore off the bottom of the sheet he was writing on and passed it to me. "That will cover the materials. As for the costs, this is going to be at
least an eight hour job, and I value my free time highly. So lets call it a hundred thousand to start with, if it goes over 12 hours we can renegotiate."
He spoke as if dictating terms instead of the first offer that I knew it was. I spared a moment to look over the list; half of the stuff I could pick up from
my salvage storage in the base, another third I could find in Wentworths for cheap-to-not-horrendously-expensive, the few remaining bits worried me though. The
Shivan skulls where not going to be easy to get.
"Only eight hours, huh? So you wouldn't have a problem doing it for ten if I clear your schedule for a day?" I offered with more confidence than
I felt. I still had people who owed me favors, but clearing someone's schedule for a whole day would be hard. His smile faltered for a second at the price
I mentioned but picked back up at the concept of a day free from interruptions, meetings or obligations.
"If you can manage to clear my schedule for a day, I'll do it for thirty. Heck, I'll even give you half off if you can somehow free up next
friday." His amusement was clear in his voice. He had no idea I used to work here and still knew people, people who owed me favors. And more importantly I
knew people who didn't want other people to know certain things.
"Twenty five." I countered as I offered my hand to shake.
He thought about for a few seconds before clasping it with his own. "Deal. Twenty five thousand if you manage to get me a day off, and half that if
it's next friday."
"Just so I know what I'm up against, what is your schedule for next friday?" I asked, hopefully keeping the sense of victory I felt out of my
voice. If I managed to swing this I'd end up with, niceties notwithstanding, a set of radiation proof sheets for pennies on the dollar.
"Sure." Marcus said as he pulled his handheld out of one of the lab coats many pockets. In short order he had copied a list of seven things onto the
next page on his notebook, tore it off, and handed it to me. I took a moment to look it over. It was written in the shorthand that the everyone in the hospital
staffs picks up in their first month; a strange mishmash of acronyms, numbers, and abbreviations that somehow manages to convey the necessary date, location,
patient status, and needed tasks irrespective of department.
"Thanks" I said with a smile. Marcus had a confused look on his face as I turned and left the lab. Apparently he didn't expect me to understand
what he had written down. I didn't give him the chance to question my knowledge thought. I had four days leverage every favor owed to my into 3 minor
enchantment refreshes, 1 medium ward refresh, 2 repairs to some of the technomagical diagnostic equipment in OR-3B, and 1 crafting to replace a magical blood
filter in OR-3A. I might end up owing some favors to get the last one accomplished, but this was definitely feasible. And I knew just where to start.
-----------
Coming up in part 3: Gamma's take on social engineering, convenient uses for nuclear powers, and adventures in Bloody Bay.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
Unfortunately the Clank machinations are largely dependent on a few things that haven't been decided yet, so nothing for public consumption yet, But
I've got PLANS!
Anyway, onward with:
----------
Gamma Emission:
Pair Production (pt 2)
I was able to track down Marcus in one of the labs after asking three people and taking one wrong turn. When I did find him he was hunched over a bunsen
burner, intently stirring the contents of a flask and muttering under his breath. He was wearing the same style of lab coat that most of the magical pre-docs
seemed to prefer; white to show stains, plenty of pockets to hold things, and runic embroidery running up the both sides of the front as well as around the
collar and cuffs. His also sported a large sigil on the back that seemed to shift from green to blue as I waited for him to finish whatever he was doing. I
took a seat at one of the other lab tables and tried not to disturb him, interrupting a spell is not the best way to get into a mages good graces.
I didn't have to wait too long, after another ten minutes of murmuring, stirring, and occasional reheating the contents of the flask gave a small puff of
purple smoke. As Marcus's muttering took on a distinctly annoyed sound I cleared my throat. He spared a moment to glance at me before turning back to the
lab table and starting to clean up the various magical paraphernalia that had accumulated.
"Who are you?" He queried, clearly not happy with much of anything at the moment.
"Gamma Emission, Your Marcus O'Riley right?" I answered. I felt it best to keep grey market dealing like this as far away from my previous
employment here as possible. The last thing I needed was someone recognizing my real name and connecting it with deals of dubious legality.
"Yeah, how can I help you?" His tone didn't change in the least from his earlier annoyence. He didn't recognize my name, which was good. I
had run half the enchantment mages in the hospital ragged my first week here. Burning out the anti-radation wards on floor 5 was not one of my proudest
moments.
"I was told you were the go-to person for physical enchantments." I said, hoping that he wouldn't turn me down because I arrived at a bad time.
"I need to get a set of radiation proof sheets."
He stopped cleaning up the lab area and turned to face me. "Radiation proof sheets?" Clearly this was not in line with the normal requests he got,
but at least he sounded less annoyed and more confused.
"Yes, radiation proof sheets. I emit radiation when I'm stressed, and I'm sick of waking up in a sweat to discover everything within four feet of
my bed is now unsafe for normal people to be around." I let him draw his own conclusions as to why I was waking up in a sweat, the less said about my
particular sexual issues the better.
He thought about it for a few seconds, nodded to himself and picked up his notepad from the tabletop. "What are we looking at specifically?"
"Queen sized bed, from mattress cover to top-sheet. I've put out everything from 500 Terahertz to 200 Exahertz, but I mainly seem to be Petahertz
range. Both ionizing and non-ionizing. I currently top out at around 6000 Rem/minute, but I'd like a bit of a buffer if that changes." I rattled of
the numbers that had been made painfully clear just over an hour ago. Marcus scribbled in the notebook for a minute before glancing at me, then at the alarm
above the door as the numbers sunk in. I gave him credit for keeping the shock off his face. "Don't worry, I'm putting out less than what you get
from handling a smoke detector right now."
"Sorry." He responded, before focusing back on the calculation he was writing out. I didn't let it get to me, I knew just how dangerous I could
be. After a few minutes of scribbling notes he nodded to himself, and then looked at me with smile that seemed a little mercenary. "It's more material
than I normally deal with, and the frequency range is definitely a factor, but it's doable. I make no guarantees on the niceties though."
"As long as they still feel like sheets and do their job I could care less if they end up with poka-dots." The 'niceties', or not having the
spell display some weird innocuous side affects, is what the MAGI and other professional crafters were able to charge so much for. I had already become well
aquatinted with the eccentricities in operating room 5C. I could deal a set of sheets that wouldn't make hospital corners, changed their thread count, and
migrated to the foot of the bed if someone wasn't in it. "What are you going to need material wise? And how much is it going to set me back on top of
that?"
Marcus tore off the bottom of the sheet he was writing on and passed it to me. "That will cover the materials. As for the costs, this is going to be at
least an eight hour job, and I value my free time highly. So lets call it a hundred thousand to start with, if it goes over 12 hours we can renegotiate."
He spoke as if dictating terms instead of the first offer that I knew it was. I spared a moment to look over the list; half of the stuff I could pick up from
my salvage storage in the base, another third I could find in Wentworths for cheap-to-not-horrendously-expensive, the few remaining bits worried me though. The
Shivan skulls where not going to be easy to get.
"Only eight hours, huh? So you wouldn't have a problem doing it for ten if I clear your schedule for a day?" I offered with more confidence than
I felt. I still had people who owed me favors, but clearing someone's schedule for a whole day would be hard. His smile faltered for a second at the price
I mentioned but picked back up at the concept of a day free from interruptions, meetings or obligations.
"If you can manage to clear my schedule for a day, I'll do it for thirty. Heck, I'll even give you half off if you can somehow free up next
friday." His amusement was clear in his voice. He had no idea I used to work here and still knew people, people who owed me favors. And more importantly I
knew people who didn't want other people to know certain things.
"Twenty five." I countered as I offered my hand to shake.
He thought about for a few seconds before clasping it with his own. "Deal. Twenty five thousand if you manage to get me a day off, and half that if
it's next friday."
"Just so I know what I'm up against, what is your schedule for next friday?" I asked, hopefully keeping the sense of victory I felt out of my
voice. If I managed to swing this I'd end up with, niceties notwithstanding, a set of radiation proof sheets for pennies on the dollar.
"Sure." Marcus said as he pulled his handheld out of one of the lab coats many pockets. In short order he had copied a list of seven things onto the
next page on his notebook, tore it off, and handed it to me. I took a moment to look it over. It was written in the shorthand that the everyone in the hospital
staffs picks up in their first month; a strange mishmash of acronyms, numbers, and abbreviations that somehow manages to convey the necessary date, location,
patient status, and needed tasks irrespective of department.
"Thanks" I said with a smile. Marcus had a confused look on his face as I turned and left the lab. Apparently he didn't expect me to understand
what he had written down. I didn't give him the chance to question my knowledge thought. I had four days leverage every favor owed to my into 3 minor
enchantment refreshes, 1 medium ward refresh, 2 repairs to some of the technomagical diagnostic equipment in OR-3B, and 1 crafting to replace a magical blood
filter in OR-3A. I might end up owing some favors to get the last one accomplished, but this was definitely feasible. And I knew just where to start.
-----------
Coming up in part 3: Gamma's take on social engineering, convenient uses for nuclear powers, and adventures in Bloody Bay.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy