The MagCave Resurgent

[Aurora Alchemi]

Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon.

"Sounds good, my sliver and sinister squeeze. I didn't want to have to cut off a finger for drinks anyways, It's kind of a hassle to grow back." Esha gives a wink, then digs through her pockets before pulling out a small tube. Rolling it out into what appears to be a self filling scroll, she presses a few spots to flip past two forms that say 'Baking dealer' and 'Weapons manufacturer' before settling on one that says 'Mercenary services.' Offering it to Magtok, she points a few things out. "Standard autofilling formwork for the final contract. It's no rush to worry about it now anyways, this is quantum linked to my dispatching equipment, so when you want to propose updates, just refill and close the scroll to send it on over. When you've figured out what you want to go down at least partially, send the equipment funds and refundable deposit, as well as signing with your Jill Metacarpus-hen at the bottom." The candykin gives a small flourish. "Contract grade names only, please. I'm not looking to geas someone, but it's gotta make it past a lawyer."

The goblin claps her hands. "Settup shouldn't take too long, though from the sounds of how you describe him, Imma need to pick myself up a new waistcoat suit, some sort of clockwork toy, and... uhhh.. Probably a pipe wrench. For the levers, ya' know?" The chaotic being gives a small giggle that leaves it entirely uncertain as to what the little beast has planned. She moves on pretty quickly, however. "As for the target themselves, I know you might be on the electric fence, but could ya' charge up and give me the details off your main processor? Nombre, where they are, what affiliations, favorite brand of nail polish.... You feel? The important binary digits to plug in my memory." Esha seems to be, quiet shockingly well, multitasking, writing up a list of potential supplies, and somehow managing to give a reasonable price range for each, all into a simple holoscreen notepad. They were... budgeting.

However, the moment wanes. "I think that's most of my deck ends sorted in suits, but I feel that the life in this room is fizzling a bit. 'Sides, it's holidays, and was gonna be my day to relax. You all up for a spot of sport hunting or target range practice? I still owe a demonstration of managing multiple munitions in mangling a menagerie, I'd love to see what Doc cyberholiday has up his sleeve to blow people away, and I wouldn't miss a chance to check the gear and skills on a group of genuine galloping goblin goons. What I'm really saying is... Ya'll wanna have some pre thanksmas competitive fun?!" The chocolate cored cretin flashes another look at crystalline carnivorous teeth, thumb motioning to the rifle on her back.