[JOB] Anonymous Delivery 1 |Trace| |Hoss| |Riley|

Getting to the border of West and South District was easy enough, it was what was beyond that border he needed help on. And without a portable GPS or a decent phone, help would be a little hard to get. He’d spent a good five minutes on his (borrowed) computer, trying to plan the most efficient route before giving up and simply printing out several pages worth of maps for the South District. Sure, his roommate (more like host; Riley wasn’t actually paying any of the rent, but rather just using the place to sleep and keep his stuff in exchange for doing most of the chores) might get a bit irritated at the waste of paper, but it was better than him getting lost in the most dangerous District of the city. He preferred to believe that his roommate liked him alive.

He set out for the destination after a few more minutes of studying the now on-paper maps, carefully stowing them away in a dark blue backpack he was bringing. If it was a delivery, he may as well bring one along, just in case, though it didn’t contain much other than a couple emergency supplies. Also known as granola bars, a water bottle, a couple of bandages and sanitizing wipes, and of course his inhaler. Nothing particularly great, to be honest, though it would have to do.

It was only a minute onto South District land did he think to remove his bandanna and shove it into a pocket. While it did help with his restitution and help hide his face, he had the feeling that wearing a bandanna bandit-style would attract more attention than necessary. He really needed to find a better solution for that, but for now…well, it was in easy reach at least, in case nature decided to be cruel and blow pollen in all the way from the suburbs.

When the destination was finally in sight – and found with only a handful more glances at the map, too! – he glanced around as casually as he could, trying to force the tension out of his body. Deep, calm breaths, Riley. It can’t be too likely that the “anonymous” person is actually a murderer, right? Besides, you have two other people you’re working with…unless they’re co-conspirators.

No no no. No overthinking things. He took a brief moment to push the thoughts away and settle his pulse. Feeling just a bit better and the tension contained to an uneasy knot in his chest, he moved onwards, walking with the crowd before splitting away to enter the café, standing to one side with other customers that had yet to decide on their orders, carefully refraining from making eye contact by studying the menu board. Every once in a while he glanced around the area from the corner of his eyes, doing his best not to seem too suspicious.

Trace waited around for a good minute or two (any longer and it might appear suspicious), moving around occasionally to get a better vantage point-- of the boutique interior, of course! The posting had been very vague and unfortunately that meant the rendezvous point could be either inside our outside. The meeting time passed and a couple of people had wandered their way indoors so he decided that the best course of action would be to follow them. He threw back his hood and tapped his chin as he strolled towards the entrance.

He didn't expect it to be as packed as it was, but then again if this was supposed to be a covert job then it only made sense that it was done out in the open. The #1 rule of espionage was that to to be invisible you had to make yourself easily visible. That's why to blend in you have to stand out sometimes. He decided against waiting in line and instead slid into one of the seats near the back wall with a good view of the entrance. A very good vantage point. He took out his phone and laid it down on the table, humming to himself.

It was times like these that explained why he liked to play the background game. He had two partners to look for, and the red-scarfed informant as well. The latter he could always identify, but the former? It could be any of the various patrons. Probably ones that look like they're occupied. If they're any good at being discreet, that is. He put on his best bored face and leaned back in his chair, swiping his thumb across his phone's touch screen as if scanning for messages.

Then a swatch of red caught his eye. Seemed the informant was heading over to get a stirrer for his coffee. Trace steeled himself and stood up, grinning his fullest grin and walked over to him. "Look who decided to finally show up," he chuckled as he tapped the informant on the shoulder. "It's been a while, dude." He led him over to the table and sat down, stretching.

And that's how you do it, folks.

When a flash of red caught his attention, Riley turned his head just a fraction, quickly spotting the scarf and its wearer among other civilians. Well, this is it. He wove past the other customers, giving the best smile he could manage and walking over to the informant. “Good to see you again. And both of you as well,” he added, looking over at the man’s companions: a blond haired teen – maybe even around his age, though the smile made him look all the more youthful – and a brown haired man with red eyes.

A harbinger, obviously. It was a bit reassuring to know he’d be working with someone of...well, “his own kind”. Less discrimination and fear, right? He took another look at the blond just to check – his eyes were an interesting shade of blue, to say in the least, but maybe he was just weird. No doubt, Riley would learn of the reality sooner or later.

The informant gave a slight smile as he slid into the remaining seat. Now with all three mission takers here, the man no longer glanced around as frequently and assumed a more casual posture. Well, more casual than he already was, which Riley hadn’t believed was possible.

Casual. Right. This was not going to be easy, was it?

Putting an elbow on the table and propping his chin on the back of his hand, Riley shifted his gaze from client to his – most likely temporary – allies.

“Sorry for not seeing you guys earlier; I was a bit preoccupied with the menu and prices. Three credits for a small espresso? Really?” He shook his head lightly. “I think I prefer not going broke.”

With a slight chuckle to cover his unease, he continued. “I hope I didn’t miss anything?” He directed the question towards the informant, who simply shook his head. “Good.”

Done speaking for the while, he sat up straighter, placing and crossing both arms on the table edge, leaning forward just a bit to get comfortable. He really hoped his acting was up to par; he had the feeling that no one would leave this job happy if he messed this up.

Riley gave a slight nod as the informant left, slightly confused but willing to take the man’s sudden disappearance in stride. He turned towards his partners just as the other harbinger – well, the only one that he knew for sure to be a harbinger – started speaking. He seemed to know what he was doing, at least, so the dark-haired teen decided to go with it. “Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing else planned for the day anyways.” Which was true enough; he’d cleared his entire schedule – admittedly, there wasn’t much to begin with – for this, just in case.

He stood up and followed the brown haired man out of the building, staying quiet through the walk. Riley kept his eyes on the red-eyed harbinger, only looking away to glance over at the other teen to see if he was following as well. He wasn’t particularly sure if he should introduce himself to them. This was a super-secret delivery mission, after all; maybe it’d be better to minimize how much these two knew about him? He’d have to wait and see what they did to decide.

Riley waited as patiently as possible while the man read the note left with the package, moving forward to read it for himself when he was done. The butterflies in his stomach grew all the more erratic with each line before he turned and offered the paper to the blond. “Do either of you find this job a bit sketchy?” he asked quietly, eyeing the package, brows furrowed ever so slightly. As long as the thing didn’t blow up in their faces while they were trying to deliver it, he would refrain from being too bothered by the same thing. Still, though, they could be delivering the materials needed to assassinate a mayor for all they knew.

He leaned against the side of the building, crossing his arms as he studied the other two. “So…any plans?” Should they had any good powers or skills, they could mention it now, since he couldn't think of much without knowing what they could do. His own wasn’t the greatest for this job, but it still could find a purpose. Somehow. If anything, the best he could offer was the knowledge on where the destination was, or at least its general location. Spending the majority of his life in the West District was finally proving to be useful.

Wow, shit this guy really did know what he was doing. Riley kept his silence as the man spoke, nodding occasionally to indicate his attention. Everything seemed reasonable, he supposed, though…

“You’ll be making the decoys, I’m assuming?” They didn’t exactly have the time to get any, after all, and making more of something sounded like a reasonable harbinger power. Of course, it seemed as though he couldn’t copy whatever was inside the package, or else they’d have an easy way to figure out what it was. “Will they be stable enough to survive the job?” He didn’t want to cast any doubts on the guy’s ability, but it was still important to know. He knew absolutely nothing about either of these people, and while the red-eyed man’s confidence was reassuring, the sketchy nature of the job countered it. Like the two had said, they were being used to further some unknown person’s agenda and could easily be delivering something downright dangerous. Riley wasn’t particularly sure if he would like that on his conscience, but…hey, he needed the credits. Preemptive apologies to anyone that ends up dead because of this.

“As for the destination, it isn’t too far over the border from Southern District. We could probably get there in a reasonable amount of time if we don’t get slowed down by anything. If I remember right, there’s a fancy hotel and some restaurants along that street, so it shouldn’t be hard to find once we get there.”

Shifting his weight onto one foot, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone, looking at the man expectantly. “Numbers, then?” He quickly rattled off his own so they could add him to their contacts. “And, as it happens, if you do get attacked – ” he was directing this to the red-eyed man “ – get some earplugs; if I’m close enough to help, I don’t want to distract you on accident.” Hopefully, hopefully none of them would get into trouble, though. Still, with evening setting in (and soon after, night), there wasn’t any guarantee of an easy delivery.

He quieted once more, waiting to see if there was anything else they needed to cover before heading out. The less they dawdled, the better, but information was still important.