August 15th 12:15 pm 2058 - Downtown Seattle
Stalker stepped out of the downtown cafe where he'd eaten lunch. He didn't come downtown often unless it was a business related trip. It was habit more than anything else. It had been eight years since the incident that put his name on the grid and it was almost certainly just questioning that he would be wanted for but there was no guarantee of that and the alerts in the systems wouldn't forget if someone ran his legit SIN, no matter how long it had been. Besides, he enjoyed the look on the faces of people like the one behind the counter when made eye contact and saw the way he looked, obviously not anything like a corp or respectable citizen. Even more so the surprise when he paid with a credstick that came back and said he was a taxpaying legitimate citizen. He used it just enough to maintain the illusion in the system, yet another reason for the occasional visits into town. His concession to law enforcement was to leave his predator and the knife he normally wore at his thigh home.
And so, it was with a small self-satisfied smile that he looked up and down the street as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. He took a moment to breathe deeply and scent the air. It wasn't the, "great outdoors", but it was amazing how much cleaner it smelled inside Seattle proper as compared to the almost everywhere outside it. He listened for a moment to the sounds around him; traffic, people speaking softly to their phones or implants, the occasional shouts at other drivers or perhaps someone they're waiting to meet for lunch. He glanced up and down the street, with his astral as well as physical eyes. His sense of the astral had become as much a part of him as his physical senses were since he learned how to use them. He relied on them every bit as much in his work as well as personal life and he assenssed his surroundings as reflexively as he used his other senses to maintain his environmental awareness, the same way other people glanced around occasionally even when there was nothing to draw their attention.
His attention was caught by a sound in the distance. It was very pleasant voice, female, accompanied by a skilled guitar and both rang out clearly. She was singing an old tune and he listened to the lyrics,
she was a bitch, but I don't care
she brought our food out on time
and wore a funky barrette in her hair
It was coming from his left, probably a little over a block away, give or take. He turned that direction, looking for the source and started walking. You heard the occasional busker downtown but the cops tended to harass most of them outside of certain area's where it was trendy and avant garde.
He listened to the tune and began humming along with it as he strolled in that direction. She had set up in a parking lot, where the acoustics would work in her favor. As he walked he could see the occasional passerby glancing her direction and a few actually stopped to listen for a moment and would toss money in that direction and give the busker a quick smile and occasional comment about recognizing the tune or compliment her voice. She never answered back but kept singing and playing although he could see the nod of her head and brief returning smile in answer to them.
He reached the corner and stepped out of the sidewalk traffic to lean against the building wall nearest to her and listened as she wrapped up the song. He took a moment to study her more closely now that there were no people or other objects to obstruct his view. She was a pretty girl, with black shoulder-length hair. She was about his age, wearing a tank top and jeans. Her guitar was held nestled comfortably in her lap as she sat on the curb, a large cup of real, steaming coffee beside her. He inhaled a bit and found she had a pleasant smell, no perfume or makeup like most women. Her clothes were clean but they hadn't been washed in a couple of days. He caught a fading trace of old cigarette smoke and a few other scents to vague to nail down without being obvious and a getting inappropriately close. Her clothing was well kept but older and well used. He opened up his astral awareness to her and was surprised when he saw her aura flared with the brilliance that only the awakened possessed. She was clearly a mage and her aura was stable with the impression of, "order", for lack of a better word, he really didn't know how to describe it, that he had come to associate with someone who was aware of their abilities and could use them in a controlled manner. He grinned and chuckled softly to himself.
He waited until the sound of the last chord had died, flashed her a quick grin and tossed a decent tip into the tip jar, saying, "Too bad you aren't using even a little of the interesting talents you possess. You could make be making much better tips. Or is this just something you do purely for the enjoyment?"
