#from powdered donuts and assisted by the power of the sun

[snezus-christ-risen]

I couldn’t not invite Rosa to the fic reunion party. More B99, another spruced up old fic of yore that I missed and wanted to share here. There is almost male sneezing, and absolutely positively no female sneezing whatsoever unless you want to get gut punched by a former ballerina. 🩰

For their ten year friendaversary, Rosa took Jake to lunch in her car. Lunch was candy and convenience store coffee, so the ride was the real treat. Rosa never let anyone in her car - it was her first car, bought with her own money, so she cherished it even more than her bike. She would probably give Hitchcock a ride down the block before she let Jake in there for one second with his sticky toddler fingers. But today was special, she supposed, so she stocked up on baby wipes and made sure the passenger side seatbelt was still in working order.

"Nothing messy," she instructed him when they got to their favorite corner store. "Or blue."

"You do realize how much that limits my options," Jake said.

"You do realize I've been tolerating you for an entire decade and it can all stop today."

He looked at her like she'd taken his hand and placed it directly on a hot stove top. "Wow, Rosa... that was harsh."

"No blue," she repeated, unwavering.

Of course she wasn't surprised to find some frozen green and purple concoction in her cup holder ten minutes later. Leave it to Mr. Rules-Were-Made-To-Be-Broken to find a loophole. "Looks like someone put Barney in a blender," she deadpanned, eager to get back on the road. Jake had spent an unnecessary amount of time of perusing the candy bars and he didn't even get any.

"It's some crazy grape flavor," he said, after taking a sip and making a face. "Blue is my preference, but... you know."

"If a single drop of that touches any part of this car-"

"Hey, I'll be careful," he said, cutting her off before she could get to the scariest part of the threat. "It's my friendaversary gift to you."

"Wow, not having shit spilled all over my car," she said. "Just what I've always wanted."

She waited for an old couple to shuffle out of harm's way before throwing the car in reverse and pulling out of her parking spot. Jake was struggling to carefully open a pack of powdered donuts and almost dropped them as she turned a corner. Rosa nearly slammed the breaks when she saw them. "I thought I said nothing messy."

"I couldn't remember any rules beyond no blue because I was so devastated!” he exclaimed. "Besides, what's a friendaversary without donuts?"

He offered her one but she batted it away. "Stop saying that word. It's not even a word."

"What, friendaversary?"

Rosa closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Fortunately they were at a red light. She briefly considered kicking Jake out onto the sidewalk while they were stopped; instead she took a sip of coffee and privately threatened whatever deity or cruel weaver of fate thought it would be hilarious to put her and Jake together in the same realm of existence.

And yet, as irritating as he could be sometimes, she loved the guy. It was like having a dumb brother who teased and irritated the shit out of you but always backed you up; he felt more like a sibling to her than her actual sisters. He probably had no idea, because he still only knew the tip of iceberg when it came to her story after all these years, but theirs was the longest friendship she ever had, by far. Rosa never cared for her peers back in school, never felt like she fit in with her family, but she liked the people she had in her life now. As much as she cherished her lone wolf status, it was nice to know that she had people who had her back. And nobody had her back like Jake.

The thought brought a little smile to her face, one that quickly faded when she heard Jake start to cough and wheeze beside her. When she glanced at him questioningly he had tears in his eyes. There was powdered sugar on his hands and a half a mini donut partially crumbled on his lap.

"Inhaled a piece," he said with a strained cough, sounding slightly panicked. "It's in my lung."

She rolled her eyes. "Drink your ice thing and be careful, drama queen."

He took a long sip, then gave another choking cough into the crook of his arm. A thorough throat clearing seemed to force out the last of the irritation. "All clear," he said. "Order restored."

"Don't dust that off until you get out of the car." She stopped to look at him critically, then bit back a smile. "Your mouth is green."

"Why do you think I buy these things?"

"To ingest enough sugar to sustain a constant state of hyperactivity?"

"Okay, that's one of the reasons," he said, taking another sip. The straw looked like a small, plastic roller coaster; it looped about five times before plunging down into the colorful cup. She could see the blended Barney mixture slosh up and down the inside.

He cleared his throat again and Rosa heard him sniffle. It was just one of those noises to which she was particularly attuned, having heard it so often before. When she glanced at him he was turned towards the car door, his eyes focused out the window. He never told her but she knew he could sometimes help a sneeze along by looking at a light. The sun was particularly bright today, reflecting off the snow along the sidewalks to create a strong glare.

"Oh, another car rule," she said. "No sneezing. Especially not while holding colorful drinks."

Jake regained his focus long enough to look at her in disbelief. He opened his mouth to reply but then he turned away again, closing his eyes tight and pressing his knuckles against his nose. Rosa shook her head, grabbing the cup from his weakening grip and placing it carefully in the cup holder behind her coffee. “Okay, go ahead,” she said, picking up her own cup as she stared ahead. “I’m granting you special permission.”

She sipped her coffee and steered lazily, waiting patiently for Jake to take care of business. When she heard a plastic wrapper crinkling next to her she whipped her head around to glare at him, but he was just sitting there, fiddling with the sun visor. When he saw her looking he flashed her a grin. Rosa was confused, but pleased to see he had tucked the donuts away in his pocket for later. "I thought you had to sneeze," she said.

"It went away.”

"Huh."

Rosa took another pensive sip of coffee as they came up to another traffic light. There must have still been powdered sugar in the air, because out of nowhere her nose began to prickle. She barely had time to register the sensation before it drove out a sneeze so forceful she nearly bumped her forehead against the steering wheel. Something warm pooled near her crotch and for one terrifying moment she thought she may have actually pissed herself, but she was relieved to find it was just some coffee that had spilled from her cup. Relief turned to anger when she realized that Jake was laughing at her.

"Wait, so are you lifting the ban on sneezing?" he asked. "Because I can totally get that other guy back here. And what about the 'no mess' rule? It looks like you spilled a little somethi-"

She dumped her coffee out the window and chucked the empty cup at his head.

[srseattlestreetnews]

Seattle Street News 55, Crimes of Passion/Fashion

Runner News:

Our Favorite Runner Team On the Outs

Bad News for fans of one of our favorite runner teams. Sources tell me that MMFEC, who used to be on retainer for a certain charitable organization, is no longer on retainer for that organization. What happened? Some people say that it had to do with too much publicity after the Horizon Technomancer Kidnapping Scandal. Turns out having your faces all over CorpNews when you should be in the shadows is the definition of MM-FEC’ing it up. But look all you Fixers and Johnsons, SSN knows that MMFEC has done more in the shadows for the city than many of our other runner teams out there. And if you know what I’m talking about, then you know how valuable a team MMFEC is. Throw them some work!

 City News:

Cybersnatcher Update…Looks like we have a Ripper!

Last issue of the SSN detailed a rash of attacks that indicated the possibility of a cybersnatcher on the loose in the Barrens. However, the SSN has gotten exclusive vid from a loyal tipster that indicates there might be a ripper on the loose. The feed we received was from an ATM camera across the street from the clinic Fragilé! not too far from the Body Mall. The footage [attached below] shows an Ork woman emerge from the alleyway next to the clinic wearing a long coat and rubbing her neck in pain. She enters the clinic and that is the last the ATM camera catches her. Our tipster provided us with video from inside the clinic where the ork woman enters and takes a seat in the waiting room. She kept rubbing her neck and seemed to draw within herself. She had been bouncing her knee like she was bored, but suddenly it seemed like her whole body began trembling. With no warning, the ork put her hand inside her deep coat pocket and froze. In a flash she leapt up and withdrew her hand from her pocket revealing a Butcher's Knife. She lunged to attack people, who were scrambling to leave, and that is where the camera feed cut off with only a warning from Knight Errant's Cyber Security division about tampering with evidence.

We have not been able to get any comments from Knight Errant about the incident other than some threatening questions about how we even know about it. Reporters have gone to the clinic, but it is shut up tight behind KE security. Why so much security for a back alley cyber clinic? Who is the ork woman? Above is a photo taken from the video. If anyone knows her, or knows anyone who was in the clinic at the time of the attack, contact the SSN!

 Terminal Light—(by demmalition1)

It’s just past 4:30AM this morning, time to let these demons out to wreck havoc upon the slumbering Emerald City.  They’re purring right now, waiting for their masters to slam their foot to the floor and let them roar to life with a furious anger.  The nightlife in Seattle will never cease to amaze me.  It truly won’t.

The crowds these events attract are some of the most eclectic people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.  There have to be at least thirty people here gathering under the various banners of their respective corners of the city.  There’s a gang of ghouls, orks, humans, a multiracial group, and even a clan of dwarves under the name of the V 0.8’s (a reference to the fact that they’re only 0.8 meters tall between them, which is short even for a dwarf).

Then you’ve got Apollo, he’s been racing for a little over three years as he tells it.  His bright green ork skin is about to be caked in an orange powder before he gets into his souped up dragster.  A dragster that he claims to have custom built from various parts “scavenged throughout the city,” his deep Tennessee accent reverberating through every last word.  His assistants come up to him and take handfuls of powder, throwing them across his body.  Wham.  Wham.  Wham.  Each handful thrown harder than the last.  His entire body is surrounded by an orange haze that glows slightly under the dim streetlight hanging above him.  It crowns him like a god about to mount their chariot, wreathed in warpaint and flames, out to conquer the world.  He enters his car and lights it up.  Flames spew out the dual side-mounted exhausts, licking the sides of his chrome warbeast.  The demon inside the hood roars to life as he does several donuts to warm up the tires and test the engine for faults.  Once ready he takes his place alongside his other combatants.  The chariot of fire and blood is ready to claim another championship.  The countdown begins.  Three... two... one...

And they’re off!  The sound is deafening as the demonic hellscape begins to roar and reverberate throughout the quiet streets of the Seattle outskirts.  They’re all racing towards the center of the metroplex many kilometers away from here, a journey that should take about half an hour to reach.  As they fade into the distance and round the first corner marked in AR small vidscreens begin to pop up among the crowd.  It’s a livefeed from every possible angle thanks to the nanocam systems hooked into each vehicle.  You can hop from the hood of one car to the eyes of the second driver and see the rear bumper of the third car all in a flash.  For those special members with a DNI Control Rig or other means of interfacing they can even passively jump into the cars themselves!  Hearing the screech of the tires and feeling the weight of your own body shift as you round the next corner leaving your opponents in the dust is truly an exhilarating experience!

About fifteen minutes into the race the ghoul car takes a corner too tight and flips over itself several times.  A trail of wreckage lies in its wake as a pile of twisted neon and metal create an amalgam of failure.  A few freaks in the crowd even jump into the car as it flips and begin replaying the moment over and over, it’s as if reliving their own death makes them feel alive.  The driver of the now desecrated beast of burden is alive, but his shins are broken in three places requiring a hospital visit.  Foul play is called by his crew but is dismissed almost immediately by everyone there.

The final stretch is approaching, Apollo is in the lead, but only just as the elf, human, and dwarf drivers are hot on his tail.  The sun is starting to creep up now turning the sky from its former pitch black to a soft hue of deep blues and purples.  The racers know they don’t have much time left as the finish line draws near.  The dwarf of the V 0.8’s pulls ahead, slamming his pedal to the floor in a great and furious anger.  His demonic beast, however, is startled by this and over revs, causing a minor stall in the car and even busting a gasket, knocking him out of the race!  The human driver’s car cannot keep up either as he is slowly left behind when they enter the cavernous twists and turns of the concrete jungle.

Now it’s just Apollo and the elf.  Neck and neck.  Racing against themselves and the rising sun which is now a blood red.  The sky itself is seemingly burning in conflagration, setting the scene for a showdown of cataclysmic proportions.  At the very last second Apollo deploys his nitrous boosters and pulls well ahead of the elf, setting a clear path to salvation!

And then it happens.  Apollo crosses the finish line.  His chariot of fire pulling the sun behind it like tales of old.  The god of the Emerald City can claim his rightful throne.  Victory!  Victory at last! Back at the starting line the crowd erupts in a great and uproarious cheer as Apollo exits his car.  Libations are had and hands are shook.  There is much talk about the race, some of the more chromed individuals among us replay Apollo’s victory to relive secondhand glory.  But just as the excitement reaches its peak the jubilant crowd begins to fracture.  The sun is almost up now, and each person heads off in their own individual directions to go sleep off the nightlife.  The electricity in the air subsumes and the neon lights power down.  The streetlights power down and give way to the great inferno in the sky.  Some earlybird wageslaves can be seen commuting in their plainly colored rust buckets.  Apollo, I’m told, is going to head to some upscale club downtown to celebrate his victory.

The sun is awake and has slain the nightlife of this city with a blinding light.  The nightlife that writhed in ecstasy is now departed from this land to slumber.  An entire culture rises to the surface and falls to the ground in the span of a few hours as the beat of the nightlife fades away.  They’ll be back tonight, and I plan to see them again soon.

The day passes.  The sun sets and shadows lengthen.  Darkness spreads as pinpoints of light begin to dot the streets and spread down the line like a snake.  It is dark now.  Time to light up the night.

 Aurora U-Storage On Fire…Again

You all know that storage warehouse in Aurora? The one where corp types and shadow denizens like to store things that they don’t want anyone else to know about? You know that warehouse with the utmost discretion? The one that was set on fire a few months ago in some sort of shadowrun related shenanigans? Yeah, well, that warehouse was set on fire again, quite mysteriously. On the plus side, Aurora U-Storage seems to have installed some impressive anti-arson upgrades to the warehouse. On the down side, runners keep targeting that place. I ask you all, is this really where you want to store your secret goods?

 Entertainment News

Lightning Doesn’t Strike Twice, But Thunder Does!

In 2071 four orks found they all liked a fusion of garage metal and​ classical music, and the band Golden Dumpster Fire was born from that interest: Cellists​ Ford Arkash, and Barash Furysong, vocalist J'mee Thunder, and percussionist Thur Canaan. They spent two years playing small clubs before they got a paying job for a Mr Pendleton, who fronted for their first album, ghost dragon, which placed fifth on billboard for three months. They worked in studio for a year and brought out their second album, permanent vacation, which did better, but the clan wars brought the group to a standstill and “permanent vacation” became prophetic. Fans of the group clamored for more from the group for years, and it seemed that desire would never be fulfilled. Just another band with a lot of promise that fell to obscurity.

However, there is reason for Golden Dumpster Fire fans to rejoice! J'mee Thunder has returned with a self titled album, J’mee Thunder, and he plans to start his world tour in the Seattle Metroplex. And don’t tell anyone I told you, but rumor has it he’ll be doing a secret unplugged show just for fans the day before the big concert. Where will it be? Let me put it this way: it will be in the same club, where Arkash used his bow as a weapon to defend Thunder from an overzealous fan strung out on Bliss. Fans called this the Errol Flynn Incident. If you know where that happened, you know where the concert will be. Look out for it. Brought to you by the Crowne.

 BeyonZ, Kappa, and Exploitation: The Case of Lawrence Stock

By now you’ve all seen the footage on Kappa. A small apartment living room. The Space Needle visible through the open window, far away in the background. Gray weather, the smell of rain coming to mind, instinctively, as if transmitted by the trid. The picture moved a meter to the right, focusing on a grave boyish face. The fluorescent blue hair, the outrageous makeup are those of none other than NeoNET’s famous host and entertainer, BeyonZ.

He turned to the middle-aged lady on his left and said with a look of concern, “Lily I mean Mrs. Stock... I may call you Lily, right?”

She answered the question thrown at her with a nod.

BeyonZ: “Lily, by now our viewers are probably familiar with your emotional plea on Kappa. Your husband Lawrence has been missing for a month, now. The last time you saw him, he was going on a tour…”

It is true, we have all seen the footage…the emotional plea. Lily Stock was clearly upset and Kappa new that was ratings gold.

The woman raised her head, slowly, a faint smile on her lips. The camera focused on her face, making sure all of her emotions were on display. The perfect makeup she wore contrasted with her tattered clothes, making her look like an extra on Horizon’s Les Miz ‘77.  

Lily: “Yes, sir. He’s lead singer for Larry and the Red Gods. They’re a small indie band. All locals. Larry was so excited, that day. All smiles. Humming ‘Roses are red…’ He got a call. His friends were there. He gave me a peck on the cheek and the next instant I heard him running down the stairs. The elevator was broken. I went to the window, watched him greet his band mates. They were all set, with their cello and guitar cases strapped to their shoulders. They looked happy. Their driver must have shouted something, because at some point the five of them all turned their head toward a black van and climbed onto it.” 

The video went back to BeyonZ who asked, “So, the black van left and you’ve not had any news since?”

Lily: “Well, he called me later in the afternoon. They were at the warehouse where their gig was taking place… Larry, if you hear me, call me, call us.”

The picture moved to the right, toward another room after hearing some dog barks in the background. The dog must have been there in the back, invisible.

Then Lily cried, “See, Larry? Skippy has been so sad since you left. And the children too. Oh, Larry, please, come back soon,” before breaking into uncontrollable sobbing. The lady buried her face in her hands.

When the picture moved back to BeyonZ, all of us who weren’t fooled by the corporate glitz, could see that he was trying to hide his glee. This is a story about a man who went missing, a man whose family wonders where he is. And how does Kappa’s BeyonZ respond to this tragedy? He turns and her and says, in front of all the world, “Lily, are you ready to face the truth? We have exclusive pictures of your husband with a young lady. We’ll be back after these commercials.” Of course, the dramatic music swelled as the camera zoomed in on a last glimpse of Mrs. Stock, looking at the camera, clearly taken aback.

Is this what viewers of corp media want? Exploitation of people’s pain? Larry and the Red Gods were a decent indie band (though my sources say that they ran in the shadows more than they played on stage, if you know what I mean), and his family seems to be in pain and need help rather than be put on display. This is a situation that should be taken care of by us. You denizens of the shadows, have you heard what happened to Larry and the Red Gods? Good or ill, Lilly Stock deserves to know. Send in your tips.

 Features:

Once More 15--(by Breach)

If you’re reading this, you’re probably already familiar with the Corporate Court’s relaunch of the Wireless Matrix, an initiative headed by Danielle de la Mar.  You may not know all the details, or the history, however - we’re not all Matrix-wired desk jockeys, after all - so I’ve decided to devote a bit of time to education in the regard.

On December 1, 2074, de la Mar announced the new Matrix protocols that would be rolled out over the next month, with a launch date of January 2075.  On January 1, the new protocols came online, along with the new grids and a new Matrix.  Three years in and it’s starting to feel normal, but our new Grid Overwatch Division overlords didn’t always have such a tight hand on the reins.

In the wake of Crash 2.0, distribution was the watchword - a travesty like the Crash should never be allowed again, and making sure there was no centralised network was the way to get there.  The Wireless Matrix was born of desperation and need, built roughly and slapshot in an effort to get the world running again.  While the Grid Overwatch Division existed, its authority was limited and the scope under which it could operate was small; there existed no overarching grids to monitor and every host and commlink was left on its own to negotiate the new Matrix.  

It was a golden age for those that run the shadows.

Of course, de la Mar and GOD were able to spin this into a need for more control and more constraint; information was free, and the Corporations hate that.  So new protocols were rolled out and all the old tricks and devices were cut off from the whole.  Hackers had to find new tools to access the new systems (though GOD did make the mistake of asking some prominent hackers to test the new systems, so they didn’t fall too far behind), and hacking became far more serious a crime than it had before - punishable by death in many cases.

Instead of one big open playground, the new Matrix has been divided into grids - ten global grids operated by the ten Court Megacorporations, individual regional and national grids operated by various governments across the globe (like Seattle’s very own Emerald City grid, which many of you access this paper from), and even an eleventh official global grid, operated by charity and legacy and, much like the pre-de la Mar Matrix, open to everyone, though somewhat removed from the new protocols and systems.  Operating on the public grid is a bit like decking through molasses - possible, but slow and unpleasant.  I don’t recommend it for any serious Matrix work.

The new Matrix holds secrets that even GOD doesn’t fully understand, though.  The Foundation - the ultraviolet, hyper-real underlayer that rests beneath every host and device in the new Matrix - is poorly understood, even by the architects that craft hosts from its essence.  And then we have Technomancers that speak of Resonance Realms, similar in some ways to the Metaplanes Magicians speak of.  Our new Matrix has brought us new frontiers to explore.

Frontiers that may be connected to next week’s topic, the new plague on everyone’s lips: CFD.

Questions about history? Ask Breach! breach.ssn@gmail.com

 Fashion News?

Crimes of Fashion or Good Samaritan?

Reports on the street are that people are getting spontaneous, and probably magical, fashion makeovers as they are walking down the street minding their own business. So it seems there is a good Samaritan turning people’s dreary togs to something more interesting. The only thing is…that the new togs seem to be very fashionable in cut and design, but somewhat...unconventional in color choice. Are these new clashing colors a sign of fashion to come or are they crimes of fashion? Or is this some sort of reality show that has yet to be announced? Have you been given a make-over? Contact the SSN and give us the info!

 Seattle Street News is an independent activist news source released weekly on Tuesdays or Wednesdays

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