Rain is dive-bombing Metroplex like a fleet of helidrones, soaking the spirits of anybody out on the streets and in particular those of me, Mag: Dream Investigator. This burg probably hasn't seen a real PI since before the Orbital Wars, but I'm trying to at least dress the part: investigator's hat, classic handgun, dirty old trenchcoat. I duck into a doorway to take cover from the intensifying downpour and once again curse the fact that some parts of the classic PI look continue to elude me. While everybody and his brother is giving away Eclipse for free, you can't get cigarettes here for love or money.
Some vices never go out of style, though, so I head over to the Happy Hour. I find a Passed Out Man, but I guess he's too far gone to dream. Nada. I think back to the time I caught some Fangs napping, but that was back before I could scrape together Metros fare to get Downtown, much less a big enough bankroll to afford a Teso and game chips. I can get there now, though, so I stop by the Old Cathedral and find a guy sleeping in one of the pews. Can't get at his dreams either.
They say that expecting to investigate dreams in real life seems insane, so I decide to try the next best thing and pop some Eclipse. Reading is a little tamer than dream investigation, but years ago I did read a book all about dreams. Encountering those dreams again or using mementos of them [F Paper, failed cyberarm] don't yield any clues either. I guess what's really insane is thinking Zaibatsu game programmers would make any references to a years-old book.
I try napping in spots where I won't have a TV going to drown out my dreams, but a grand total of 120 winks in a Southside dumpster, the MBR Lab, and Lattes! don't do the trick. I try to catch a detective flick on my TV at home for some inspiration, but can't find the show on any channel. So I head back out into the dreaming city, hoping to find a clue that lets me break this case wide open.