World Tree MUSH

    "What do you mean they don't have booze?" Rebecca does not like what she just heard and she makes it known very plainly as she settles into a seat in the little tea shop in Night City's Watson district; a district known for its Asian influence and population.
    The diminutive solo crosses her arms over her chest, oversized mechanical hands curling fingers into her biceps as she pouts massively at the even more massive Animal in the booth.
    Tinyheart is already happily ordering a matcha for himself while Rebecca stews and the pair wait for their guest of the evening in order to give her the rundown of Night City.

  Today's weather appears to err on the side of torrential downpour. Hypothetically, rain should clean up some of that smog, but chances are Night City just produces too much of it. It builds up faster than it can be cleaned out. The front door of the tea shop bangs open, admitting one very wet and disgruntled-looking SHIELD agent.

  Twisting, Anneka Stojespal kicks the door closed behind her, pulling off her sodden cap (sans its agency markings) and shrugging out of her flak jacket, hanging it on one of the provided hooks by the front door. It leaves a puddle. Under it she's wearing jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and the usual eyepatch. Her hair is long and loose, partly soaked, and a vibrant coppery red. The 

  Wait, when did she show up at the booth? Anneka plunks into the seat left open for her. She seems... mildly surprised that Tinyheart actually showed up, and even more surprised that Rebecca tagged along. Reaching up to straighten out long red hair (partly sodden), she rubs at the good side of her face with a sigh, adjusting the eyepatch more securely into place.

  "It's a tea shop," the pilot points out. "You go to a tea shop to have tea. You want a beer or something harder, you go to a bar." Leaning over, she puts in an order in passing; a nice hot cup of soothing chamomile. That blue eye turns back to Rebecca, and the scarred woman grins. It's kind of an unsightly expression bordering on hideous, so it probably fits right in in this city. "Also, the weather here fucking sucks."

  Her eye tracks left, to Tinyheart. She stares at him for a moment (and has to look pretty far up). So many muscles. It's unsettling. Finally, she asks, completely unfiltered, "Is 'Tinyheart' really your name?"

  ...she has more serious questions, but sometimes the filters don't work with new, novel, shiny World Tree stuff. An unfortunate character flaw.

    Ah there she is.
    And Rebecca IMMEDIATELY sticks her tongue out at Anneka when reminded the differences between a tea shop and a bar.
    "Yeah. Night City's the smoggiest craphole imaginable, but because it's a coastal city we still get some pretty gnarly rain." Rebecca points out, folding her hands behind her head as she leans back in her seat. As for Anneka's question to the Animal, he shakes his head.
    "It's a nickname. Plenty enough of a common thing to get one when one joins a gang." He points out, sipping his tea and sliding a menu over Anneka's way. The place really is pretty nice. Despite being a hole in the wall in a crummy neighborhood anyway.
    "So. What d'you wanna know about Night City? Or should we give you the basic rundown?" Rebecca does ask bluntly.

  At having a tongue stuck out at her, Anneka only snorts, though she does dip her head in acknowledgement of the local weather systems. It's coastal so it rains a lot. "Think I figured that one out," the pilot points out, blandly.

  It's a nickname, Tinyheart points out. The agent shrugs one shoulder indifferently. "Figured." You never know, so sometimes it's prudent to ask. She seems to consider that for a moment, before cocking that blue eye at him. "You pick it, or did they?" The Animals, that is, once he was recruited. It's mostly idle curiosity, though.

  "Oh." She seems to remember something. "Never introduced myself. Anneka Stojespal. SHIELD agent, but don't worry. I doubt the agency's going to want to touch this place with a forty-foot pole. Not really a field agent, anyway. Pilot." There's a laconic quality to her English, and it's accented in what sounds like either Eastern European or Slavic. Sometimes it sounds like both. It's strong; her words bristle with it.

  "Basic rundown." She nods in acknowledgement as waitstaff deliver a cup of chamomile for Anneka and a cup of matcha for Tinyheart. She picks it up, cradling the cup delicately in scarred and unscarred hands. "If I take jobs here, I had better know what I am getting myself into, I think."

  Sip. "Once I have that, if I have questions, I will ask."

    The basic rundown it is, then. And a very grudging Rebecca orders herself a tea as well; something with a ton of caffeine, if she can't have her booze, then she may as well be awake for this. So the tea arrives and Tinyheart answers the most pertinent question of the moment.
    "The gang picked it for me. A bit of a joke at being the smallest member of my pack. 'Tiny, but with a big heart', Sasquatch said."
    Anneka gives her introduction and with that out of the way, Rebecca and Tinyheart get down to brass tacks.
    "Night City is run by the megacorps. You've got the big two, Arasaka and Militech. Then there are smaller ones like Kang Tao trying to worm their way int." The diminutive solo starts to explains.
    "Capitalist machines, all of them." Tinyheart seconds her. "Everything is run by the corporations, from the government to the police, to public and medical services. Whether it is above or below the table is questionable on any given day." The Animal says.
    "Then you have the middlemen. Fixers. People who know people who know people who need jobs done. They usually hire mercs like me or Tinyheart to do the dirtier work that police can't or won't do out of being lazy or incompetent fucks." Rebecca explains.

  That lone eye hoods, affecting an almost sleepy regard, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Anneka props her elbows on the table to cradle her teacup, gaze alternating between Rebecca and Tinyheart.

  Tiny, but with a big heart. Yeah, no, he's still freakishly huge, and the rest of the Animals even more so. At least they seem to be nice enough, provided they're not provoked.

  She listens with interest to what Rebecca has to say, taking mental notes as she does. Arasaka. Militech. Kang Tao. Capitalist machines. Fixers. The pilot nods with interest, setting her teacup down to rub at her chin, considering. "I see. So. Either of you need a flight to get somewhere, look me up. I do some work on the side." It's actually officially sanctioned, because SHIELD likes to learn about everything, but she doesn't need to share that part. This place strikes her as a place that doesn't like any kind of authoritative figures.

  She leans back against the booth, considering as she cradles her cup of chamomile, content. It's enough to be out of the rain, but a cup of tea is an added treat.

  "What's the city itself like?" Anneka swivels her eye first toward Tinyheart, and then Rebecca. "Topography. Terrain. I will learn it from above, eventually, but until I do, I like to know where I stand." Literally. "What about the... factions?" She tosses her chin at Tinyheart, blue eye curious. "We can start with the Animals. What can you tell me about them?"

    Make no mistake, Tinyheart is a VERY large man. He's a wall of muscle and that's saying something if he's the smallest of that pack of the Animals gang. But he and Rebecca move on with the subject of conversation pretty easily.
    "Aite, so, the city itself is divided into six districts. You've got Watson, up in the north where we're at now. It's got Little China and Kabuki, where most of the Chinese workers and immigrants live. Then you've got Westbrook to the Northeast; where most of the Japanese populace lives. City Center has Corpo Plaze, where most of the megacorps have their headquarters. Heywood has the latinos and Mexicans, then there's Santo Domingo, the oldest district of the city. It's so old that a chunk of it is self sufficient as a small town on its own." Rebecca says. "Then after that is Pacifica... It was supposed to be a wonderland of all sorts of super advanced modern buildings and places to spend your money and time." She clicks her tongue. "It's just sitting in limbo, 'complete' and obviously half-assed." She says before ceding the topic of the factions to Tinyheart, who clasps his hands together in thought.
    "As for the gangs..." He begins. "I'll start with The Mox, Rebecca's old gang. They're small in number but are comprised of rebels, punks, and disenfranchised sex workers who simply want to look after and protect their own members. Then we have my gang, The Animals. We're mostly all over the city with no true territory to call our own. We like to reach the pinnacle of human perfection without mechanical augments but more organic ones and synth-muscle." He pauses. Tinyheart and Rebecca exchange a look. "Then there's Maelstrom. They're mostly in Watson and its subdistrict of Kabuki; they're made of of overmodded cyberpsychos and are a horrifying threat to others as much as they are to themselves." He says.
    "Then there's the Voodoo Boys, The 6th Street Gang, Valentinos, and Tyger Claws, each with their own turfs and motives. The factions are basically 'the megacorporations' and 'the gangs' essentially."

  Agent Stojespal pays rapt attention to the matter of the districts, and it's clear by her focus that she's filling out a mental map of the overarching city. Watson, Westbrook, Corpo Plaze, Heywood, and Santo Domingo are all sketched onto the mental mapbook and written into place. She's committing to memory the bird's-eye view that will be her navigational aid.

  The woman's gaze patiently turns to Tinyheart as he chimes in.

  "Sounds like trouble," Anneka commends mildly, on the nature of Maelstrom. Her frown suggests she expects that name to come back and haunt them. Somehow. "I see. So they are the real power in the city, while the megacorporations try to stamp them out." Sighing, Anneka sips at her tea, almost delicately. "Sounds like a fucking mess," she comments, with cheerful sarcasm. "I can see why there were so many of you Animals. Better to choose your own autonomy than live a slave to a system you cannot change." She shrugs. "Well, I am not beholden to any local authority, here, as a SHIELD agent. I do not have any jurisdiction."

  "So. I feel no particular attachment to any of the factions at play here. I do not see any reason not to help you." This, to Tinyheart. "Tell Sasquatch if she ever needs air support, I will be happy to provide."

  "...Better if you can 'acquire' something native to this world. I can learn it," she comments, nonchalantly, "I promise you that. Anyway. Probably you all could have pounded us into a pulp, trivially, in my case, but you did not." Anneka eyes the absurdly huge Animal. Definitely trivial.

  "I remember my debts and credits. And I always pay them. You can tell that to Sasquatch, too," she adds, with a scarred grin. The quinjet pilot is good for anything they might ask her for. "Night City is a real shithole, it sounds like." That grin broadens, wolfish. "I think I like it. I might be able to pay off my damn debts, doing work here."

    There's something about what Anneka says. About her assessment of the balance of power that makes Rebecca and Tinyheart exchange another look. But then, they're both shaking their heads.
    "You couldn't have got it more wrong than that, choom." Rebecca says.
    "It is the corpos who have the real power in Night City; and none of the gangs, not even Maelstrom, are brave enough to stand against them." Tinyheart explains the gist of it.
    "The corps run everything about the city. The government, the police, everything down to public services. You cross a corpo's path in a bad way and well." Rebecca pauses to suck down her tea. "The corps'll make you 'disappear'. Badly. If you catch my drift."
    Tinyheart though nods. "It is a real shithole, yeah." He concurs before chuckling. "That's good to know. If you ever need work, I'm sure we could find something for someone of your skillset, between myself and Rebecca here. Easily."

  "Hunh. Well, that's unexpected," the pilot comments, arching her brow at the correction. It's an expression of genuine curiosity. So the corporations have absolutely no censure, and do what they please, more or less. That's... kind of terrifying.

  They both consent to finding work for her, and she gives a faint nod. "Would appreciate that. There is something interesting about this place... and it is not like I am not used to risk." She shrugs one shoulder. That's basically her day job. The life of a SHIELD agent is naturally dangerous and not one for the faint of heart. "In turn, if either of you ever need to be flown, I have no problem offering my services. Quinjets, they may be ugly sons of bitches, but they can run like sons of bitches."

  Draining the last vestiges of her tea, Anneka sets the cup down, delicately. "That was perfect. Thank you, Tinyheart." A polite nod to the Animal, red hair bobbing. "Rebecca." The same to the solo.