<div class="floatright">(https://img.fireden.net/tg/image/1450/33/1450338450364.jpg)<br/><strong>Ximena Delgado</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=295754.msg14488694#msg14488694)</div><br/>Blackthorn always had a good eye for the really interesting jobs and, while the rigger might value money a lot more than people, he still had a reputation to protect. Which was why Curador had come to this down-at-heel bar, just to listen, no obligation. More to indulge her curiosity than anything.<br/><br/>The troll rubbed the bridge of her nose with a meaty finger, already certain it would do nothing to banish the burgeoning headache. It was hard to remember the last time she'd managed a full night's sleep. Probably Borinquen. Now that had been one hell of a party.<br/><br/>She glanced around casually and then allowed her perceptions to shift. It was probably not necessary to bring an unbound spirit with her, but old habits died hard and, truth be told, Ximena rather enjoyed the company of earth spirits.<br/><br/>"<em>Okay,</em>" the shaman began, addressing the waiting entity, "<em>let's go and see how interesting this job they're offering is.</em>"<br/><br/>The roiling cloud of rocks seemed content with their current bargain, so the metahuman awareness slid back into the physical world. She checked the street again, reflexively noting the fields of fire, escape routes and possible ambush sites. Thick nails dug into her calloused palm, pushing aside the growing panic before it could reach up and strangle her. No, she wasn't going there, not today.<br/><br/>Ximena ducked through the doorway, nodding to the barman with her best, "I'm not planning on starting anything" smile and then following the younger man into the backroom once she offered the name "Fernández".<br/><br/>"Materva," the shaman told the server's retreating back, before lowering herself tentatively into the sturdiest looking chair.<br/><br/>She sat precariously, cautiously sipping her sweet tea while she waited for the other runners to arrive. The conversation flowed around her, although Curador managed to nod in the appropriate places and politely refuse the offered cigar.<br/><br/>"I can't taste them," the metahuman explained, unnecessarily.<br/><br/>Once again, she let her vision slide into the astral, perceiving her surroundings a little more clearly.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Assensing: 5 hits</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Result: Curador rolled: 9d6<br/>Second Target Number: 5<br/>Comment: Assensing<br/>Result: 5, 5, 5, 1, 6, 4, 4, 5, 3,<br/>For: 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0,<br/>Total: 5</div></div><br/><br/>When she was satisfied, the troll returned her full attention to the meeting. Watching as Mr Fernández dropped the plain folder onto the table. Old School, Curador rather liked that.<br/><br/>"You have my attention," she began carefully, "but I will need to know who is to be schooled before I can answer your question."