-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, Covent Garden, London]
Torrent stepped out from the underground and breathed in the unique scent of London above ground air. It was early evening and the tourists were still mingling with the newly emerged theatre goers, buskers and street hawkers. One rather overeager street performer came too close before a whithering glare from Switch stalking just behind Torrent persuaded him that there were easier pickings with less expensive looking suits just a short distance away. Torrent briefly regretted that his other sons and daughters couldn’t be here to share this evening with him but they all had their own lives to lead and business to attend to…
Talking of business, Torrent called up the AR profile of the Mr J that had just contacted him. The run sounded complicated and he didn’t have a regular team in the area that could cover it all…it would seem he’d need to compile a number of individuals and hope the personalities didn’t clash too much to get the job done…professionals only which narrowed the choice somewhat but left the cream of his contacts floating in view. Narrow it down again by those who were too far away to act tonight and the list become managable.
Mentally addressing his Agent Torrent instructed
>>Jenny, please contact the names on this list and enquire whether they are interested in work on short notice, to be completed by tomorrow morning
>>Certainly Sir, loading obsfucation protocols and routing via Proxy servers seven and sixteen…
***
>>Hoi! Are you available to meet Mr Johnson at the King William Public House on the corner of Kingly and Canton streets at 20:30 tonight? The job requires a quick resolution <Torrent>
-
Daniel Howling Wolf was enjoying his first trip to Europe, he was glad that Jayson had invited him to help train security at the NAN embassy. Wandering the streets of London-town, he was happily playing the tourist munching on fish and chips as he took in sights, not that anyone could mistake him for a local with his mahogany skin.
He did have one serious decision to make though, if he was going to attend the embassy function with Lady Jessica, he was going to need to do some shopping for appropriate formal wear soon. On the other hand Chloe, the pale skinned Cockney beauty he had spent the weekend with, had invited him to a concert of her all-grrl synththrash band. He was turning the matter over in his mind for the hundredth time when his comm buzzed.
The local fixer Rhino had put him in touch with had sent a message, “Looks like both ladies are going to be disappointed tonight.” thought Smiley with a trademarked grin. 8)
-
Solo quickly replied: <<Thanks for thinking of me - I’ll be there. >>
He was in the middle of dinner with his half serious girlfriend Tammie. Her parents were around and it was a big deal dinner.
“Sorry guys I have some unexpected .*Family obligations*" he said as he left her parents house a lot earlier than expected of him.
He planned on ditching Tammie when he ditches his current fake SIN - but he enjoyed pretending to be part of society for just a little bit longer. It made his cover a bit more believable and his life a bit richer. The fact that the ginger elf was gorgeous made ditching her harder... "Maybe I'll keep her around... " this was a dangerous thought and he knew that.
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, 19:36, Outside the National Theatre, London]
Mel took out her commlink to catch up on her social life when she saw that Torrent had sent her a message. Reading it quickly, she sighed. It wasn't every day that the Bolshoi Ballet was in town, but when money called, money called. The woman quickly sent a message back to Torrent, confirming her presence at the meet.
>> Count me in, I'll be there.
She had just enough time to find her date and tell him, in her southern accent, "You're gonna hav'ta finish this one without me, sugah, I have a pressing mattah to tend to. Be a gentleman and call me a cab, would'ya?"
The runner didn't like to leave marks like that, but she knew she could just call him in a few days and he'd be all over her. Besides, she had a reputation to uphold and Torrent only called her for jobs that paid well, even if she had to talk herself into the better paying bracket.
Once in the cab, she gave the driver (so to speak) two stops: the first one was the Conrad, where she had to change and get her gear, the second one was the King William Public House. She hoped traffic would let her arrive there on time, but even if it didn't, she could always bat a pretty eye at the Johnson and convince him she was fashionably late.
Back at her hotel, she changed into her Second Skin, taking her gear with her. Once she made sure she had everything she needed, she looked at the clock on the wall and caught her cab at exactly 20:19. It didn't leave her much time, but for some reason the traffic gods smiled at her and she got to the meeting place at 20:30, right on the button.
As she exited the cab and made her way into the establishment, she gracefully looked at her surroundings, trying to spot anything out of place. Old habits died hard, especially for someone who was used to running in the shadows. After she was satisfied, she switched her commlinks to hidden and casually walked in.
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, London]
Snow crash was relaxing after a long day of driving. He'd been taking a break from his present home of East Berlin and working around Western Europe when he'd been put in touch with someone called 'Torrent', said to be working the London scene recently and hiring top talent. He'd made the drive through the Chunnel with his gear, it had raised eyebrows but his documentation as a Matrix Security expert had passed, most of the recommendations linked to it where even legit. Course he'd never done that sort of thing for the 10, heck not even B grade corps... just small companies trying to make ends meet while getting ground to paste by the megas, last thing they needed was some wiseass scriptkiddy ripping their Host apart for kicks. Most of the time it was just writing better IC for them and shoring up loopholes, once or twice chasing off wannabies in the Matrix, cause he never used his nasty software on them.
It was a nice change of pace from the kinds of runs he did nowadays. A chance to relax and work on code without a deadline counted in seconds and bullets, explosions and fragging magic flying everywhere as a distraction.
It was coming up again, he didn't know what but he felt it in his gut... this 'Torrent' didn't deal in small fry. The albino Orc was relaxing in a small pub, drawing looks from the locals of course, but he knew not to take offense at the look of 'freak', he after all was a freak of genetics, and that wasn't even getting into the 'ware. He was starting to consider calling it a night when a message popped up on his AR overlay. The low level trace software quickly getting lost, but reading the message he didn't bother trying to track the message down himself.
[Barely made it in town and already on the contact list eh? Guess what I've heard about you being a pro is right. Sure, I'll be there. <Snow Crash>
Paying off his tab via credstick he walks out, being sure to give a polite nod to the group giving him the worst 'freak' look, barely containing a grin at the look of shock on their faces. Outside he settles into his Ford Americar and starts driving. Everything licensed locked securely away, and everything unlincesable hidden from view. He called up the mapsoft to his location, but rather than activating the wireless he starts up a set of custom software that trawls sections of GridGuide for reports then shunts the information to another set of programs to collate it before a final program interfaces with the mapsoft. It wasn't as reliable or quite up-to-date as the wireless function, but being so fragmented it was a lot less traceable.
It's 20:20 when he pulls up and gets out, he keeps his gear in the car, but also keeps a status window open in his AR. Although he was close enough to possibly still hear the ear splitting howl of the alarm if anyone tried anything. He steps in, looking around, software running to ping any other professionals in the bar and pull up their JackPoint profile.
-
"Finally, last Box Daddy sagged into the worn chair after dropping the box into a corner and spilling its contents into the Corner, Switching his sight into the astral Daddy watched the items in the box sink a energy into the floor that settled with a sigh like hiss. After a few more moments daddy sat up and moved into the modest living room, a large TV and vr gaming set up taking up most of the wall along with a well worn couch, Before he could settle down for a game though the comm pinged, a message. A low growl rumbled from daddy before he snagged it up and read the message.
Torrent, Well i've heard nothing but good so lets roll the dice
Sure im game Much Love Daddy After sending the message daddy glanced at the dead woman hanging from his shoulders before slinging the bag through her form and heading down to his car, Of course she just moved to the other and contiued to lounge around him like a damned pet. Punching the address daddy let himself drift while the car sped through the streets, He wondered who exactly he would be stuck working with and if any of them would flake mid run. Sliding his eyes to the woman no longing in the passanger seat sucking her thumb and staring at him There are worse things then a Spazzed teammate
After the short drive he parked and checked out the place, slipping his sight into the astral and doing a quick once over for spirits and any other awakened before straitening his shirt and changing it to a simple black and pulling up the Collar on his Longcoat. Lets go make friends, The dead girl settled about his shoulders as daddy walked in and doing a quick once over of the Inside
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, London]
Sarah Creeping Snake was enjoying the sights of London when the message came in. She had just arrived a few days ago, and she had fallen in love with the English city, and was currently sightseeing Westminister Abbey. London's weather had been colder than expected, way colder than the american west she had lived in, so she had thrown a light jacket on top of her usual tank top and cargo pants. She wore her power focus, a carving of a coyote made into a necklace, underneath. She had just heard that Daniel was in town and was thinking of visiting him when the message arrived. Torrent? I've heard the name before, he's got a good reputation. Daniel can wait, I'm going to really need some cash if I'm going to keep on travelling. She started to compose a reply but stopped for a second. It could be a trap, she thought nervously, but then shook her head You know what the therapist said, don't let a single event of your life define it. This guy has a good reputation, he's legit, and the one guy who would go to such lengths to get you is dead. You made sure of that.
>>To:Torrent
>>I will be there.
>>Hallucination
She chekced the time and realized that she still had some time to go sightseeing, but she realized that she had missed the twelve-hour mark. She quickly opened up her back-pack and almsot fubled opening up the little bottle of Bi-polar meds.Getting them in Berlin had been a risk, especially right after hse had done that job in Hamburg, bu thankfully her fake SIN had done the job, and she didn't think she had been traced. She washed the pills done with some water, and then went to where she had parked her bike. She hoped on and went off to see the sights, then when the time came, drove to the King William's Public House.
-
Isaint had been busy touring the city. He was just about exiting a fascinating exhibition on the industrial revolution - didn't seem like much had changed except that the smog was even more toxic now - when his second commlink, the one he kept running silent alerted him to a priority message.
He grinned, so his contact had been right, there were some good jobs to be had here. He answered quickly while he left the museum:
<<Isaint: I'll be there - standard rates apply>>
He still had some time, but quick resolution meant equipment on hand, so he hasted to where he had semi-legally parked his bike - a classic Yamaha Rapier - and weaved into London rush hour traffic.
Despite every damn banker and corporate wanker insisting on driving himself instead of relying on the grid guide, he made it to the little bed&breakfast without dying or being maimed by an inattentive SUV driver.
B&Bs were one of the things Isaint loved about this island - they were if not cheap at least reasonable prized, didn't require a hideously expensive SIN to fool the checks and still allowed a modicum of security.
In his room he changed out of his tourist outfit and into cheap work clothes like those worn by millions of low level corp drones. His Wild Hunt jacket and the armored Trenchcoat completed the change
[spoiler]
Face sculpt:
Disguise Check: Face Sculpt (http://orokos.com/roll/282609): 14d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
Than came the face: He concentrated and called on the saint to grant him protection. Immediately he felt how the distinctive features of his face smoothed over, until he looked as bland as possible. A quick look in the mirror confirmed that he didn't look anything like himself anymore. London still defended the title of the city with the most cctv cameras - no need to give those pattern recognition algorithms more food than absolutely necessary.
He deactivated the comm with his real SIN on it and went out through the window into the backyard.
He returned to his machine and set off to his second destination: A local sports club and one of the few places in London where he could maintain a sports rifle without problems. At the moment the gun rested in pieces within a backpack together with the rest of his equipment inside a secure locker. When he had finally retrieved his stash, it was high time for him to get to the meet.
At the public house he went straight to the barman and asked him in exchange for a modest amount of Euros to watch over his baggage. After ordering a soda he sat at the bar and waited. He was quite keen to learn who else Torrent had found at short notice...
[spoiler]
Post count: 1[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
The King William sits in a pedestrian zone on the corner of Kingly and Canton streets. The buildings on either side only
reach four, or at most five, stories into the air. Walking down the lamp-lit street, the sound of music filters from a few of
the buildings. In front of each pub, there are tables and chairs where people are talking and laughing over pints of ale.
The scent of cooking meat wafts on the air, and you notice food-laden dishes being delivered to the tables. In fact, you
see a kebab stand further down the street. Above each entrance, there is a sign announcing the name of the store or
pub in both reality and AR. The King William pub takes up the first floor of a five-story, redbrick building, and a sign outside
states that the building was constructed in 1759. Next to the sign and in AR is the menu with things like steak and ale pie,
shepherd’s pie, fish and chips, bangers and mash, ploughman’s lunch, and something called pasties.
You find a bench and table far in the back, next to the loo, for your group and get settled in when you notice a leanly
sculpted gentleman with the finest chiselled cheekbones and brow money can buy approaching your table. He holds a pint
in one hand and a cigar in the other.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen! My name is Mr. Johnson, but I prefer Art.” You notice that he has a distinctly
Eastern UCAS accent, probably New York. “Let me get straight to the point. A mutual friend, Torrent, told me where I
might find you. He said you would be capable of some work I need done. I have an extremely short-notice engagement that
requires immediate action. And I have been told you are all top-notch consultants that I need to get it done. Are you interested in making some quick cash? Or were the reports on your skills incorrect?”
-
"We are here and listening."
Isaint showed a politely interested face. So far he hadn't had a chance to introduce himself to the rest of the would-be team. He wasn't great with names, but he had the distinct impression that he knew or at least had heard of the albino ork. Ice Crusher or something like that.
-
Solo judged his fellow mates with a look trying to guess their caliber. He could work with almost any team filling up the spot that they need from him. When Mr. Johnson started talking Solo just gave him a serious look.
“Nice to meet you Art. Name is Solo”. He shakes his hand. "Lets start at what can we do for you...”
He look at the rest of the team trying to see a familiar face... “Afterwards just give us about 15 minutes to see if we can do the deed... our reimbursement should only be discussed after that.”
-
Daddy settled in and as soon as Art Finished talking offered him a crooked Grin and a cold handshake
Names Daddy
He offered the same smile to the rest of the team as he glanced around to take in faces and see just who might be doing what
Solo huh, Well at least hes to the point, Seems like the rest of the players here are Top Tier, no Pugs to be seen, seems like a good game is gonna be underway
-
"Pleased to meet you, Art" said Mel as she gave him a bewitching smile. She acknowledged the other participants as well, smiling somewhere between polite and flirtatious. The elven woman continued, "I don't mean to speak for everybody present, but we're here for a job, and given the fact that we came on such short notice, my guess is that everyone sitting down at the table is ready and willing to hear your proposition. So we could sit here and go through the formalities, or you cut to the details of the meeting and we could start this ball sooner. Your choice my dear." Melissa said the last sentence with a wink, leaning back and crossing her legs, a charming smile resting on her face.
-
Solo liked Mel already, a flirty keeb that has a no bullishit approach. "Like my girlfriend... got to watch out from this one" he thought. He nodded and sent her flirtatious smile. Thinking to himself... "At least it will be a pleasant mission..." Solo had a soft spot for good looking elf girls... just like the rest of the world.
-
"Always good to travel halfway around the world and still see a friendly face, how are you Sarah?" whisperedSmiley when he saw his friend. With polite nods to the others at the table, the Amerind kept his own peace and nursed a drink as the Johnson made his spiel. He gave a supporting gestures to the others' comments and waited to hear the job. He outer appearance showed no hint, but he was tuning into the others so as to be able to get good reads when the money got stated, as is his natural role of the face required.
-
Isaint relaxed a bit. So far it seemed that everyone here knew how to behave in polite society and it wasn't a complete freak show like that business a few days ago where he hadn't even bothered to go sit with them on the table to hear the proposal.
He answered the smile of the elf lady with an acknowledging nod of the head, but kept silent for the moment. The introductions could wait until after Art had made his pitch.
[spoiler]
Post count: 3[/spoiler]
-
The albino orc settled back in one of the heavier chairs, his white skin hair and clothing a stark contrast to the other runners. He was content to let the others do most of the talking, knowing what to say also meant knowing when to keep your mouth shut. He gave Art a polite nod of his head and returned the elf's smile with a pleasant one (at least as pleasant as one can manage with orc tusks and teeth).
Those with a keen eyes notice the orc's eyes, crystal blue irises with bright red pupils, moving slightly and steadily as he reads from his AR display, trawling through JackPoint and genuinely surprised at the high caliber of talent that Torrent seemed to have assembled on such a short notice.
Once Art has introduced himself he also starts up a search, seeing what he can quickly pull up about their employer. Some might call it rude, other might call it paranoid, most call it good business practice for runners.
-
"Good to see you as well Daniel. But please, no actual names among strangers." Sarah whispered back before turning her attention to the Johnson, fingering her power focus the entire time. No way anyonwe would try anything in here. She could try to acess the matrix to search up these people, but she didn't want to fumble it and look like a fool. Don had never taught her how to use the "corrupting" technology, and she still had problems with it. However, if Daniel was here, she shouldn't have anything to worry about. "Very nice to meet you indeed Art. No need to doubt my skills. I can give you a little demonstration if you want." she said, preparing to work some minor illusionary magic
-
Right, left ,right punch. The Frenchman was pounding on the punching bag, installed in the old London loft he was renting. Sweat was dripping slowly down in face and giving his body a shine as the ending day light was bathing he place in a eerie glow.
An AR window appeared in the periphery of his vision and he stopped his exercise to pay full attention to the incoming message.
Copy that. The Frenchman. was all he replied to the message.
He looked at the clock the AR was displaying and mentally prepared for the upcoming hours. Clean up, get his gear ready and head to the pub. Easy enough. He had no doubt such a short notice job requirement would end up being dangerous. But he was eager to test his skiils.
****
The Frenchman parked a couple streets away from the meet. A bag containing his running gear was safely tucked in the back of his Mercury Comet. For now he looked all business in his Mortimer suit and greatcoat, and walked confidently with the reassuring weight of his heavy pistol in its holster.
He didn't recognized anyone the Johnson, or Art as he now wants to be called, had gathered. This had been a constant in his life since walking up in the street clinic. He stopped being worried about it. He was however curious to observe people's behavior, maybe seeing a change upon seeing him.
He remained standing while some runners sat down. The sheer number of them was surprising. Most job could efficiently be done by a small group of runner. What was up? He was curious to hear more details about it.
The pretty Elf had summarized the situation pretty well. The Frenchman remained silent. With so many runners, speaking up would quickly lead to chaos. He just nodded
when he made eye contact with Art.
As for the other runners, he'll have time after the meet for more introduction if it ended up being needed.
-
Kind of a big group we got here, Wonder what kind game this is
Daddy settles into a chair and and with a nod to the other runners, watches the others settle in to get down to business, occasionally brushing his hand by his face as if to shoo a fly away
If one were to look into the astral they would see his hand brushing the Woman a little further back from his face as she tries to get closer.
-
When the first message is gotten, Tobis is running through the halls of an old corp building somewhere in the middle of hongkong. "Deathkilla, target b is 30 m down south, and 5 m to the right. He should be reloading his weapon now. l337p373, you've got two on your six." He was playing one of the worst classes, one that very few people ever played, but he'd be damned if someone would tell him he wasn't good at it. It was the Secret Spy, a class that only started off with a small hand pistol, and no armor or really any other skills oriented towards combat.
What it did have, was something that most couldn't pay attention to enough. Cameras. With multi-screen access, he could watch all the scenes in that building rather easily.
Finally after a moment longer, the words "Terrorists Win" flash in front of him. They did it, they protected the bomb, and soon the world around him began to fade as he pulled out into the real world, rather gracefully.
The Changeling Technomancer loved playing Shadowrun online, but even with that game, it wasn't enough for him, he needed more. And that more came in the form of a text.
<<Ah yes! I can be there. I do so hope to work with someone soon!>> He replies to the text.
***********************
Sometime after, when the meet was The small childsize changeling showed up, padding his way towards the meet.
Most of his body was covered in a heavy coat, however the dog like ears betrayed a certain unhumaness, as did the mask he wore that had to be custom designed for his unusual face. For the moment he was quite.
-
Solo nods at Snow... The albino Orc is hard to miss.
One of the toughest Deckers in Germany. They worked together once and unlike most reasonable deckers in the shadows... a spider jumping them did not mean get the fuck out of the matrix to Snow. Not at all... before Magic had time to think, he was already sending some really vicious signals down his way - he could see the biofeedback pattern.
The job was get in, steal data and get out. It got messy and they left a brain fried body of an ace decker behind them. A crime not easily forgiven by the cooperate world. Cyber combat works best in teams - and despite inferior equipment together they out did that Spider.
Magic prefers to keep a low profile and not to leave evidence that he was there. It is good to know that once discovered tough you have someone to trust. He wasn't called Solo in that mission, he was called 'Magic' or 'M4g!(' in l33t speak. It was Magic's first matrix kill, and he was nervous. He almost blew his cover by pulling mojo to aid them... but the combat ended so quickly it was not necessary.
He knew that they make a good team so the matrix front is probably strong for this particular team. Especially now that he can also use magic to augment them without breaking his cover.
-
Isaint now took the time to get a good look at everyone of this would be team and tried to guess who would go on this run.
[spoiler]
Judge Intentions Tobbis (http://orokos.com/roll/283157): 10d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
'I rejoiced to early' Isaint thought. 'I really don't know how these changelings ever avoid being captured. Even the stupidest witness could pick them out of a line up. Poor bastards, how do you even get a Fake-SIN for somebody like him? Bit on the plump side. I bet he's one of those hacker-types. Well, that should cut down on his exposure I guess...'
[spoiler]
Memory Test Snow Crash (http://orokos.com/roll/283158): 8d6t5
[/spoiler]
'No it wasn't Ice Crusher. Snow Crash, that's his handle. I better watch out when I run research in hotsim. That guy likes to fry peoples wetware.'
[spoiler]
Judge Intentions Test Mel (http://orokos.com/roll/283159): 10d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
'That elf girl has a real pretty face - and the fitting assets too... Damn it, I'm doing it again. One of these days one of these pretty girls will get me because I'm to distracted checking out their asses to notice the gun in her hand. Still, wouldn't mind her to be on the team. After all, I'm not the only one who gets distracted by eye-candy...'
[spoiler]
Judge Intentions Test Smiley (http://orokos.com/roll/283163): 10d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
'Well now, if that isn't a washed up sioux warrior right there. I wonder if he's drunk or if he always grins like that. Still, might be a chance to learn a bit of a new language.'
[spoiler]Judge Intentions Test Solo (http://orokos.com/roll/283164): 10d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
'Now, that's an interesting one. Smells like ex-corporate, has probably never slept outside a comfy bed in his whole life. And he's fast - could it be - yes that guy knows the same trick I do. By the saints, Torrent really didn't call any second raters.'
[spoiler]
Judge Intentions Test Daddy (http://orokos.com/roll/283165): 10d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
'Oh, oh, if that isn't a mage I'll eat my hat. And he's seen some shit - look at those eyes. Damn that guy gives me the shivers.'
[spoiler]Judge Intentions Test Hallucination (http://orokos.com/roll/283168): 10d6t5 2[/spoiler]
'Wow. That one's a stunner. Girls, pretty, smart and brave bring me to an early grave. Saint George give me strength. I have to keep away from that one - at least as long as we are on a run. Afterwards... well the B&B does have a few more rooms...'
[spoiler]Memory Test The Frenchman (http://orokos.com/roll/283169): 8d6t5 3[/spoiler]
'Wait, who's that?' Just for a moment Isaint's poker face slipped. 'Shit, shit, shit. It's him. I knew I should have put more effort into changing my face. I really, really need to learn that trick to grow hair and beard. And the voice - skin color probably would be a good idea too.
Shit.
What the hell is he doing here in Britain? That slick bastard.
Keep calm. You learned a lot since that time in Istanbul. Besides, I only winged him with that shot - and it's not like he didn't ask for it, going after that boy and all that. At least he is a professional. Probably won't stab me in the back while we are on a run. Afterwards... well we'll see who'll have to parachute naked with the IS flag into swimming-pools.'
Isaint took off the glasses he wore, polished them and put them back on while avoiding to look into the direction of the killer.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Snow Crash returned the nod, a look of surprise flickering over his face as looking up M4g!( on Jackpoint redirects him to Solo's more recent exploits, his jaw tightening slightly as he reads over the magical talents he'd known nothing about. Fragging magic, knew there was something odd about that one! that run back in Berlin, yeah. Figured was just lookin' green 'cos I geeked that Spider with Biofeedback.
Most runners just run from Spiders. Then again most runners forget that corp Deckers tend to be weak, lazy, slobs. The don't think to overclock their attack co-processor then run Decryption, Hammer and Biofeedback and ram those signals down the Spider's throat until the weakest link, the Spider's body, breaks. In this case the high-tech corp decks work against the Spiders, actually being able to take more abuse than the Spider's themselves tend to be able to. It had earned him a reputation in the Matrix, and like all such things, it was both useful and detrimental.
Dreck... magic and Matrix, just ain't right. Still, least someone around who knows how the handle the subtle stuff int he Matrix. Things where going good on that run until that Spider showed up... then things got very interesting very quickly...
[Ash Wednesday, March 4th, 2076. Corporate Lab, East Berlin]
They'd gone in on Ash Wednesday, corps where always careful on long weekends, but a midweek holiday threw any schedule into chaos. They where going in quiet, not exactly Snow Crash's strong suit, but he was there for muscle, both in the Matrix and meatspace if the dreck hit the fan. It was just a two man run thanks to their timing, the place was almost abandoned during the day and security was lax, letting them get in place to put datataps and break into the Host via a backdoor... thankfully not literally this time.
Snow Crash was running full stealth, sleeze co-processor overclocked and and running silent. Tailing M4g!( and keeping an eye out for problems, letting the other decker focus on blending in to the regular operations of the Host. Everything had gone to plan until they'd copied the data.
M4g!( <Alright, got the data now lets*>
Snow crash cut the other decker off as alarms sounded and another persona rushed at them, the icons a typical sleek corp Spider... basically a wannabe trying to look cool and special while also conforming to corp expectations and regulations.
Snow Crash <FRAGGIT! Spider! Keep the IC off me while I deal with this guy!>
In an instant Snow Crash had gone from a hidden observer to what could best be described as the Matrix equivalent of a one-man blitzkrieg. Stepping up into Hot-Sim and slamming the deck from full sleaze to all-out attack the orc decker dropped any pretense of stealth or subtlety. Looking like a cross between his meat-world body and some kind of digital banshie he rushed the Spider head on, a straight razor leaving a pair of marks on the persona as well as jolting the Spider's body with their Biofeedback laced signals. His own deck starting to overheat from the overclocking and counter-attack before he started smashing the Spider with Hammer and Biofeedback reinforced Data Spikes until the persona suddenly vanished.
Snow Crash <Alright, done! Jac*> M4g!( <You killed him!> Snow Crash <Fastest way! Jack out, NOW!>
In the real world only a couple of seconds had passed since the Spider had raised the alarm, they could still get out if the moved fast! As soon as he was conscious he leaps to his feet and starts hauling the other decker to their feet. Mentally keeping time as his heavily augmented brain studied the situation and calculated every way to shave nano-seconds off their escape.
As soon as the other decker was conscious he pushed them towards the door, only a step behind as he send a command to fry the two datataps. Time since alarm raised: 6 seconds.
Getting out the door and running towards the nearest exit, a service entrance with only a single startled guard just coming to his feet. The confusion at what the alarm was about evident on his face, being replaced by shock as he pieced together that the two janitors running down the hall where responsible. Time since alarm raised: 12 seconds
The albino orc didn't even break his stride, a hand vanishing into his overalls and coming back out with his Ares Crusader II, drawing, aiming and firing in a single fluid motion. The gas vented machine pistol barked loudly and repeatedly in the narrow hallway, the gel rounds knocking the stunned guard back into his chair and toppling over it. Moments later the orc body-checked the door and they burst into the alleyway. Time since alarm raised: 21
seconds.
Grabbing the other decker's arm he sprinted for their ride. The albino Orc jumping behind the wheel and hit the gas as soon as his passenger was inside. He was no rigger, but the augmentations that helped him in combat also served well behind the wheel.
M4g!( "That guard*" Snow Crash "Gel rounds, unless he smashed his skull when he hit the floor he'll be fine. Now just hold on and let me concentrate.
Barely 30 seconds after the alarm was raised the two deckers where speeding off in a screech of tires and into the chaos of Anarchist East Berlin.
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Shaking his head a little to clear the memory the albino orc refocused on the conversation at hand.
That was a wild run... have to wonder what's coming up with so many of us here.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, Covent Garden, London]
When Al walked in, they’d already pushed two tables together, and still there was no room for him to sit.
He’d had a seat - his sofa in the room above the Docklands shop where he’d been living for the last three months. After hours of pounding away at his cross-cut force, he’d gotten frustrated and taken to throwing the cards at the increasingly bold cockroaches encroaching on his modest living quarters. Mostly he missed, though. And when a card did find its mark, it just bounced off harmlessly. At first they’d skittered away in response, but now they just ignored him. Obnoxious bastards. Twenty years ago, roaches were next to unknown in London. What was the world coming to?
Rhetorical question.
So the call from Torrent had been welcome enough. It’d been a while, but the ork had played it straight on the last job. So he drank some beers for dinner, and when the time came checked his tools were in place, whistled for Spike, and headed out in his filthy plain white Bulldog van, just another builder in the most ubiquitous vehicle on the streets of The Smoke.
You couldn’t drive on Kingly, but he’d never park that close anyway. Once he got to the West End, he’d found a parking space up a block and just around the corner on Carnaby Street, said a few words to Spike in Tamasheq, telling the beast to watch the ride, and headed to the meet. He never got tired of the way the light, sound and warmth washed over him when he walked out of the chill London night and through the doors of a pub.
They weren’t hard to spot - you could tell by the mix of clothes, races, postures that said they weren’t from the same office or same book club or same anything, juxtaposed by a certain commonality of badder-than-thou demeanor. Plus he knew Snow Crash, and the albino stood out pretty easily in a crowd. Good people - solid skills, had your back, and played right out on the sharp edge.
Only two squaws. Not the ratio he’d gotten accustomed to in Seattle, but at least they were both hot keebs. A goodly number of round ears in the bunch, which was a comfort. And one of the wizards had brought their familiar - some sort of hairy child-looking thing. And damn there were a lot of them.
The feller with the pint and cigar that acted like he was holding court was probably the boss. Al remembered from the trid that he was supposed to call the guy Johnson. But from the way folks were still chatting amongst themselves, it didn’t look like he’d started his spiel yet.
He sauntered up to the table, all five-foot-three of him in his Doc Martens, and with nowhere to sit, he took a chair at an adjacent table. A few of them noticed when he sat down, the others didn’t seem to. But he knew they actually did, crew like this.
He slouched low in the chair, chin in his chest and head cocked to one side. It was hard to tell how much the deep furrows on his face had been dug by age or by life. His sandy hair was in complete disarray and looked as though it had been cut by a five-year-old playing with scissors while he slept. He wore a yellowing T-shirt and over that an ancient jacket of cracked brown leather. His jeans were full of holes, white knobby knees jutting through. He knew just enough good manners to keep his hands on the tabletop at a meet-and-greet like this, and they both were so badly covered with burn scars the flesh looked as though it would melt off and seep into the cracks between the knotted wood boards.
He nodded at Snow, ordered a pint, and settled in for the boring part.
-
Sarah looked around at the people that had been called in for this. The chageling was interesting. She had heard of them before, but had never ran into one during her travels. She might want to talk to him later. The albino orc seemed to be a cool one. The other elf was probably a face. As for the other mage...what the heck was that thing on his shoulder? She also noticed one of the others take off his glasses and polish them almost nervously. Pre-run jitters?
-
It was a Wednesday; Smiley knew that because it was Wing Night at Jodie’s Place. Not that the meat they were serving had ever been on a wing, or was probably even meat for that matter, but it was the right size, vaguely the right shape and it kinda tasted like chicken, and, most importantly, Jodie could buy it by the truckload.
Once you deep fried it and smothered it in enough sauce it went great with a cold beer because it made you plenty thirsty. Jodie liked thirsty customers, what she didn’t like was the smell, which was why Wednesday was the one day of the week you didn’t find Jodie anywhere near Jodie’s Place.
Smiley was in his regular spot, a plate in front of him and a beer in hand (obviously), keeping an eye on things for his friend, when the scraggly little waif came through the door, her eyes never leaving the sign posted on the front door that said “FREE WYNGZ w/purchase 5-8pm.”
She settled into a seat at the bar and placed an order, the wing plate arriving in front of her even before the drink did. She began to devour the pile like it was her last meal, or maybe her first one, the spice bringing a tone to her skin visible even under the Amerind coloring. She came up for air when her beer arrived, draining it in two gulps and sliding it back for refill.
Smiley’s grin got a little wider as he turned his attention back to the UrbanBrawl on the trid mounted above the bar. He looked back when he heard the shout. A member of the Leprechauns, a small gang in the area, had decided to try his luck with the girl. Apparently that hadn’t gone so well, because the punk was spinning her around to face him.
The draft mug swung with her, breaking over Mr. Lucky’s head. (That really was his name too, it was tattooed on the non-bleeding side of his green-‘hawked dome) When the razors slid out and his mates started moving Smiley went into action, intending to break an arm or two to send the punks on their way. He never got the chance as the waif went completely feral on the poor bastards, blowing them and the front end of the bar out into the street with some kind of Lightning Ball thing.
He caught the girl as the drain overwhelmed her, and brought her around just as Jodie made it back. That might have gone badly for Smiley, but the girl had a sense of right and wrong, and Jodie had a soft spot for strays, so when Sarah promised to work off the debt, Jodie gave her the chance
.
Smiley got her shadow-work fairly easily, her skills, as most mages are, soon in high demand. She took off soon after that, but they had kept in touch.
The most amazing part of the story? Smiley had never hit on her, not once. It simply never occurred to him, probably because in the back seat of the car that his parents drove off in the last time he saw them, was a brand new Papoose Brand Infant Protection Carrier with a little girl named Sarah inside.
-
The changeling was, as most law abiding citizens were in the areas, broadcasting the SIN under the name "Mr. Peabody." His gear kept most of his body hidden, as if he was attempting to hide his disfigurement from the world.
His full face mask gave him an unbelievable poker face, as he moved to climb up a chair to watch with the big folk.
"Garr is here." he remarked. Garr, a hacker on the web who's appeared a few times, who's persona is that of a large bipedal and heavily armored wolf wielding a large two-handed sword of some kind. While he doesn't have a whole lot in the way of cred though for actually making any known hacks, he's known for be very tough on the matrix to handle.
-
"If we're going to be introduing ourselves, I'm Hallucination." Sarah said right after the Changeling had said his street name. Not being well-versed in the matrix, she would have no idea who Garr would be. The silence that was going on was begining to get awkward, and while she wasn't a very social person, even she was begining to get nervous. She kept on looking at the Johnson, windering why he was being so quiet so far. Maybe he was waiting for them to introduce themselves?
Her comn went off, loudly playing a piece of Tribal music she liked. Without anybody really talking, it sounded even louder than normal, and she felt embaressed as she got it out of her pocket. "Sorry" she apologized as she chekced it. It had been twelve hours since Torrent had first sent her the message, and she quickly fished the bottle of pills out of her other pocket and popped two of them into her mouth before washing them down. Then she realized how that might have looked to some of the other people at the table. Smooth Sarah, now some of them probaly think your a druggie.
-
Solo nods at Garr... nice mask man. I bet it is great for poker... do you play? I am Solo by the way.
He then adress Sarah
Hallucation... sounds sneaky he grins...can I buy you a drink? Maybe it is just me but mr. Art does not like to talk much... we might have time for a quick one.
-
"I don't go out much. Prefer to stay inside if not on a job." The little changeling admits, letting his voice get distorted by some voice changing toy in the mask. "Generally easier that way." He wondered if Solo got his name by always completing jobs alone, but decides not to voice this concern.
-
Well... said Solo with a sigh. Thats actually a sensible thing to do... doing stuff shortens your life in this buissness. Yet... sometimes it is fun to do the unsensible things...
After a short pause he adds
You seem to be no stranger to technology... I mainly do M&M in missions... Matrix and Magic... I do a little facing as well depending on the team really.
What about you?
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
“Ok folks, let’s get down to business. It’s possible that Torrent will bring in a few latecomers but we can bring them up to speed as and when we have to.
You’ve already noticed that there are a lot of you here, far more than would normally be required, but this job, apart from having a very tight window of opportunity, is complicated by the need to address three different locations. At its heart is a voluntary extraction of a target in central Oxford. The time frame needs to be completed in the next three hours before his current employers remove him. In addition I want his wife and children extracted too so that they can’t be used as leverage against the target. The children are at home with the staff, the wife is attending a charity function in another location in Oxford, both are being monitored by the main target’s employers.
I will of course answer some questions before you consent to take the job but I won’t reveal too much paydata without a commitment from enough of you to make this happen. As I said, we are pressed for time so I am afraid I will need to hurry you…!”
-
“Medical and Matrix. I play a lot of Shadowrun online, so I’m also fairly good at coordinating players.” Well, great. The Changeling seems to think this is a game or something. As if some Matrix game could simulate all the troubles real shadowrunners do.
Flicking his ears as he listens to the Johnson, he lets out a small sigh. ”I’ll help take on the children. I’m quite aware of particular attributes I have that help with dealing with children. I do have a car as well, for the speed needed.“ He quickly offers up a few things to help there, he grumbles something about wishing he was more like a werewolf though.
-
"Voluntary extraction. Hopefully, the extractee knows about that, too." Isaint had to bite his tongue to stop himself from adding further sarcastic remarks. That was unprofessional.
'Shit, it's Prague all over again. Only now I'm on the opp-force' he thought. 'Well at least there are enough hackers around, so at least drones won't be the main problem. But I wouldn't mind having a troggie with me on this run. They are exceptionally good for stopping bullets that could hurt the principal - or me for that matter.'
-
Sounds wiz... said Solo. Just tell us what we should know to suceed in the mission. Once you are ready... I can help decking magic and talking... in that order.
To himself... this kind of missions never goes right... but I really need to finish that debit to the mafia.
To Garr: I too play it online... I always wanted to be a troll rigger... somehow it did not work for me... no matter how hard I tried.
-
Daddy glances at the dead woman on his shoulder as she Nuzzles his neck before turning back to the J
Well frag, No wonder he wanted so many runners, There's so many ways this can go tits up, that and from the looks we don't have much in the way of Front Line
Sounds strait forward, Do these pick ups need to be done in concert? and if not whats the time frame to get the plus ones?
[color=redI really hope these plus ones know whats going down, could make things a lot more interesting if not][/color]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Al looked at the chronometer on his comm, thought about the drive time to Oxford. Looked at the number of people, thought about the number of targets.
He stood up. His tobacco ravaged voice was like a gravedigger's shovel slicing into rocky earth. "Well, ol' Al's in. Cigarettes don't grow on trees." He drained his stein, wiped the scraggly whiskers around his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'll leave the Q 'n' A ta you all damned geniuses. Reckon we gon' need more'n one set o' wheels fer this gig, an' I got a second ride back ta my shop, fit the bill jist fine. But what little time we got's disappearin' faster'n sins at a tent meetin', so I'm off ta fetch her, meetcha out there."
He dropped a tenner on the table. "Anybody needs a ride out, welcome ta tag along now - could use another driver anyway."
He set his comm to display his number AR. "Dial me in, we kin plan this hootenanny onna road."
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
The albino orc nods at Al, unsure if he's glad to see him again, considering the circumstances of the last time they met.
Turning his focus back to the group he shrugs a little.
"Alright, well name's Snow Crash, some of you who work the Matrix might know me, if you ain't already run with me." Pauses a moment to nod to Solo and Al "I ain't that great at the subtle stuff, but I've got a car that can take a few passengers and I can rumble a bit... I'm probably gonna be best working on the one you're expecting the most trouble, I can provide fire and Matrix support as well as act as a diversion."
-
"I dislike being told the job only three hours before we need to do it. It makes getting the groundwork done sloppy. Also, grabbing the wife and kids could get sloppy. I don't suppose anybody has any anesthitecs handy already?" Sarah asked nervously. There really were so many ways tha this could go wrong. Extractions were already a tough run to do. "I'd pick some up, but I'm going to have spirits to summon. Shouldn't take me to long, but we need a place to rendovous and enought time to think up a plan for this."
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London
"Eventually, they'll patch it. Though.. " he shrugs a little to Solo. "There is also more private servers to play on as well. That is when things get really fun."
At Sarah's question the small changeling raises a gloved hand. "Chemicals are another speciality of mine.. Though I have been running a bit dry lately. I have always wanted to ask someone if a rag smelled like chloroform to them. This could be a good time to talk to the doc."
-
Well at least the group isnt fazed by the time, specially that Al guy, Kinda like him
Hallucination was it? Daddy said turning to the girl I've got a few spirits leashed and ready but my Mojo is more geared to lethal answers, How many other mojo Slingers do we have in this little group of ours? It would be nice to have at least a little bit of everything in each group if we can
Daddy gathered up his coat buttoning it up and getting ready to head to his car to grab gear
and as for wheels, mines no good for groups or Bullets for that matter
-
Seeing the other members nearly fighting each other to take the job almost made Mel laugh. *This could be interesting...* thought the elf as she gave a slight nod to their Johnson. "Alright, I'm in, but I hope you have all the info we need already packaged in neat files. More particularly, I would need to know what the wife's measurements are. And of course we will have to talk money before we get on our way." The slender woman took a sip of her drink (something unexpectedly non-alcoholic) and looked at their soon-to-be employer, a serious but always soothing look on her face.
[spoiler]I know the money is already factored into the way you run your games in your persistent campaign, but I thought you might like some form of in-game explanation as to how this money gets into the players' pockets.[/spoiler]
-
"I have plenty of non-lethal stuff. Trickery and illusions are more often more useful than brute orce. however, I can't scout the place astrally. Adept." Her mind flashbacked quickly to Gunther yelling at her
-----------------------------
"Bad enough that nobody wants to follow my path, but you have to be an Adept. No wonder you can't learn magic that well, your a second-rate awakened anyway." A meaty fist had slammed into her face at that point. She didn't take any special note of it. It was the seventeenth time that day, and her face was numb enough from it that it didn't hurt so much.
------------------------------
"I've got a bike, so no wheels from me. And why do you want the Wife's measurements?" Asked Sarah curiosuly to the other elf. Was she one of those adepts that could manipulate their body like potters clay?
-
Solo laughed... "With this kind of notice we'll be lucky to get there in time... Talking about a plan is ambitious". About non lethal - "Killing is not very polite now isn't it..." he smiles at Snow. "Mind tricks, or sweet talking usually works better than putting people to sleep... everything is more complex carrying a body on your shoulder.
That said... it is good to ride with someone that is reliable under fire. Might save your life!"
He still remembers a recruitment mission to a genius student in Berlin... brilliant guy and most pleasant mission in the world. Basically met him, drunk with him... seven beers are a meal in Germany... but 14 are windmill... After 14 beers his world started spinning and he passed out. They carried him in a large suitcase to the Johnson. He got hell of a story and a high paying job in one of the Mega's, it just wasn't the Mega he signed a contract with the day before.
To Daddy and Hallucination: "Maybe it is just my own experience, but everything a Mage can do in the astral a spirit does better... Astral recon is one of the best uses for a spirit in my book. Unfortunately... I do not have anything bound to me right now... nor can I bind a new one in such a short notice. Perhaps astral recon should be done by summoned spirits for this case? The three of us can cover all places... Simultaneously, and we still get to finish our drinks... no expensive bound spirit services. We can do it right here."
Solo was a mystic adept, and despite not being able to see the astral he felt that he was one of the rare few that can master every possible applicability of magic. He was proud of being one... mages only use mana as an external force, adepts only send mana inside their body. Being both? It is amazing.
-
"I don't have any bound spirits unfortunatly. However, summoning one won't be a problem. As for spirits, their good, but as another mage put to me, they aren't like us. They see the world in a different way. The only eyes I trust are my own, but, I can't do astral recon anyway. I've heard it's an amazing expierience thought, stepping out of your body, going into the world of magic itself." Sarah said a tad mounrfully. She could see the Astral world, perceive it, see it in all of it's glory, but she couldn't go out into it. Again her eyes drifted back into that canyon.
----------------------
Gunther was for once calm and lucid as he lectured her while she meditated. No ranting, screaming, yelling, beating. Maybe it was because he was so enraptrued by the subject of the lecture. "It's like dancing through raindrops to use an old saying. You can be Berlin in one second, then halfway around the world in Tokoyo the next." She always heard about these different places from him, and about his journies there, sometimes, when he was finally satisfired with her performance for the days. She wished she could escape to them like how he was describing it. Anything at all would be better than the little box canyon she was stuck in, and the places he descrbed felt like paradise. Her breathing became slightly uneven at the thought, and she hurridly corrected it before her could notice. Thankfully, he was still to enraptured by his lecture "You can see the world in a whole different way. People, spirits, everything living, you see them the actual way they are. All the buzzing AR with it's bright neon colors and stuid sound effects, all those lifeless billboards and neon signs all fade into lifeless grey and black and white, until the only things with color are the living things. The ones that deserve color."
------------------
Like dancing through raindrops she thought to herself, and a small half-smile appeared on her face.
-
Well, I guess your going to be useful for once He thought as he flicked his eyes to the spirit woman on his shoulder, now sporting a irritating grin
I can do Astral Recon, but it's not my main strength, Spirits on the other hand, well for some damn reason they don't leave me alone, so i can get us some decent back up there and if push comes to shove i have two bound at the moment, I can pull someones strings directly if need be as well
This is going to be damn tight, 3 hours to pick up and we got not a damn thing lined up
-
To Sarah's question Isaint answered: "I've got a few slap patches, but honestly: I prefer a taser. It's faster and you don't need to get as close to the target. With that short notice, I see only one option: Shock and Awe: We go in simultaneously to the three places, maybe have a distraction by blowing up a car or something, tase and gel everyone we can't evade or fast talk by, grab the subjects and go out before anyone can stop us.
For that we should have three teams with similar capabilities: At least one hacker, one spirit controller and one combat type.
And every team should have at least one transport that carries more than two people.
So, who is up for which part?
Personally, I identify as combat operator and I only have a fast bike.
I'll take on the father if no-one else absolutely wants to."
-
To Sarah: "I too am a mystic adept. So I can't travel the astral myself... can't even look at the place... Spirits call me a blind mage" he laugh... "Everybody is blind in some world... I know many mages that can't see a thing in the matrix... they seem to handle themselves rather well. We all go with what we have."
To Daddy: "It maybe more sensible to send you in there... Less chance of drain... might I suggest an improve intuition spell to sharpen your senses when you are on the go?"
To Garr: "When they fix it... I'll go back. Until then it is Shadowrun Offline to me... it feels almost as real but pays a lot better". He laugh.
-
The Frenchman took a moment to take on everyone's scent. Quite an interesting bunch. He stopped on a big Human - no, an Ork. His scent was familiar. Not that he could place when and where he smelled him before, nor did he recognized the man, but could it be possible the two had met before?
He put those thoughts aside, to focus on the task at hand. Three hours were very short. But that's how he liked it. Since waking up in that London street clinic, he had come to rely on his instincts and guts feelings since his memory was nowhere to be found. And keeping it short and sweet had worked for him. Of course any good plan should require some planning, but he had come to appreciate improvising on the spot. Now none of the runners here had much choice, and the worst, it seemed few had worked together in the past.
While the chatter had started the Frenchman took a good look again at the crowd. He had so far remained standing and almost motionless and quiet. Three extractions, three hours and ten runners. Charity event, Home, Oxford Central. He had heard some interesting comments from the others runner and was surprised to see the amount of spell and spirit slingers. Not such a rare breed after all, or somehow they all turned to being criminals.But they were mighty powerful. He noticed the Elf calling himself Solo was wearing a suit, so was the Albino Ork but the all white was a little too... distinctive. The pretty Elf seemed interested in the Wife mission and he could see where her question was leading to.
Decisions needed to be made, instead of the chit chat that lead to nowhere. He interrupted the discussions with a caught.
We have little information but I am to assume the Charity Event is one of those high class dinner or gathering. The only ones who so far seem fitted to attend such event are Solo , myself and the beautiful lady right here, he said pointing at Mel. I offer the three of us take care of this mission parameter.
Four of you should go to extract the main asset. Snow Crash and you (nodding at Isaint), you volunteered, great. Take Pretty Boy (Smiley) and another Spellslinger and you'll be in charge of the mission target.
The other three should be able to handle the kid. What do you say?
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
The albino orc nods and smiles at the assessments.
"Sounds good to me. My car can fit all of us, room in the back for the primary to sit between two of us,or worst come to worst enough room in the boot if we need to stun and haul. I ain't no rigger, but I've found combat implants are handy behind the wheel as well. I'm parked just a couple of blocks down with all my kit, unless we wanna waste time debating we can walk down and start driving."
-
"Good enough for me. I'll take my bike but I'd appreciate it, if I could stash my equipment in your car. Carrying an assembled sports rifle on a bike always leads to to much attention. We can carry on this conversation over AR."
While Isaint said that, he transmitted his current com code to the albino.
To Art he said: "My premium rates apply - sent us all available information you have while we get into position."
He took the Frenchman's words as assent that there wouldn't be any trouble between them on this job. Always nice to work with a professional.
With that he cleared his seat, turned on the AR and put the comcodes of the assembled runners - as far as they were available - on the positive list of his contacts. With a few quick steps, he went to the barkeeper and retrieved his back pack.
[spoiler]
Post count: 7[/spoiler]
-
Solo happily replied "Sounds good to me... Lets just finish with astral recon and I will work the matrix on the way... by the time we get there I think we will have all we can know in such a rush."
He did not like to lead and was happy someone picked up that glove.
He approached the Frenchman and extended his hand... pleasure to work with you... care to share a little bit about you so we can integrate better...He smiled that person did not say much at all... but something about him smelled like a pro. Worst case... he was experienced in going Solo... At least for the simpler missions.
[spoiler] If daddy wants the spell Solo has 15 dice feel free to roll... it helps a lot. Moreover Solo is a human but he indeed wears a suit.[/spoiler]
-
Smiley was that last to speak up, so he made his words count, "I am in, but planning mission parameters and teams before we know what we are getting into is a mistake. Let's hear what Johnson has to tell us before we make such decisions, okay?"
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, Carnaby Street, London]
It was raining hard when Al walked out, and he had to duck under an awning over a Chinese medicine shop to light his Lucky.
Lot of folks on the street at this hour. Few started running, most just popped umbrellas and continued about their business. Al loved the rain. It brought the lights down and closed him in, felt cozy. And he never minded much about being wet.
The boss feller had said "children." He supposed he should have asked how many, but, like all the other tedious details, he knew his new colleagues would cover that. As usual, at least a few would be pros, mixed in with the usual freaks and flakes.
There was an upscale off-license near where he'd parked that sold real beef jerky. He stopped in to grab some for himself and Spike for the drive.
Once he was back in his van, Spike in the shotgun seat, he pulled the map display onto the windscreen. He'd long since killed the stupid prompt that asked him to input his destination. Man couldn't read a map himself, he wasn't fit to be behind the wheel. Two bites of jerky later, he'd worked out the most efficient route past his shop and on to Oxford. He wasn't sure if they'd need the Beamer, but it was always good to have an extra ride handy when working.
He flipped the ignition.
-
Mel was listening to the other runners making plans and speculating. She didn't feel comfortable potentially giving away sensitive information to any would-be spies in a pub. The elf answered Sarah, "I'm sure our Johnson isn't interested in our methodology, so I'll just let you know what I was thinking on our way to Oxford."
[spoiler]Post count: 4[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
"Ok, here’s the scan. The principal target is Doctor Richard Pelletiere. He will be at the Maths Institute in the centre of Oxford this evening at 5 mins before midnight. Intel says that a rival team is also intending to extract him at this time so this is a race. I aware that this increases your risk and the risk to the run but that is why I am employing individuals of your calibre. I don’t care what happens to the rival team but I want to ensure that you snag the package and deliver it to one of my safe houses here in London. Once you have him in your care I will transmit the address. This data packet includes floor plans for the institute, the good doctor’s profile and the data on his family.
His wife Rachel is attending a charity event at the Randolph hotel which is relatively close to the Institute so there is potentially some crossover between the two elements of this section. It is doubtful that I could secure you guest passes in the timeframe but catering staff might be another option. If you can approach her then I am lead to believe she will come willingly with you but you will need to circumvent her security detail plus any hotel security. Needless to say there will be other protection details in the hotel so it would be inadvisable to be too overt here.
Natasha, sixteen, and William, fourteen, are at the family residence in the north of the city. It is anticipated that there will be a single security officer on site with matrix support provided from off site. Magical security is a single patrolling watcher set to alert of astral intruders so this should be the easiest snatch. Given their age however I wouldn’t expect them to be aware of the extraction plans and they may need to be subdued. I don’t need to tell you that there should be no lasting effects of whatever methods you employ here.
Questions?"
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
The albino orc smile and nods, sitting up straighter and adjusting his jacket, clearly having flipped into 'go' mode.
"Alright, the other runners complicate things, but I can tackle them on two fronts so I'll be going for the primary. Anyone else with me watch your escalation, if they're after the target they're likely going to be using non-lethal force. I suggest we do the same, we turn this into a deadly firefight we run the risk of our target getting geeked by the crossfire. If people wanna stick to their bikes but want to take extra gear follow me and toss it in the car. Having a bike or two as outriders isn't a bad idea, just make sure you got something to shoot while you ride.
Time's ticking people, and we've got a long drive, lets review and plan on the way."
The orc stands and walks over to the bar, holding a hand out to take the first bag of gear.
-
Finally details! i like it
Looking to Mel Ill go with Mel after the wife, If there is some splash over from the primary ill be in a position to help and we can take my ride to the area but that's all its really good for
Here's your Link to Daddy After transmitting his code he looks to the others with a smile
[spoiler]Post Count 6[/spoiler]
-
Isaint handed his pack over to the Albino after removing a small courier bag from it. "Thanks."
To Art he said: "Yes one other important question: What Corp are we pissing of with this action? Doesn't change my willingness to do the job, but it might change what assets they can throw at us. The Red Samurai can really wreck your day when you expected some Wuxing wizards."
From his bag he removed to slap patches and flicked them towards the part of the group who were going to pick up the teenagers:
"Level 9 tranq patches. They are usually just enough to make them really drowsy but won't knock out a full grown adult. If someone needs it, I can spare a shock glove."
After waiting for a reply, he switched to AR and opened a group connection, so he could keep up with the discussion, while he went to fetch his bike.
-
"I knew it was not that simple... some other team... damn. Some of us are going to die for sure... I hope i got a couple of extra life under my belt."
Lets establish a channel for all teams... we may need to interfere should one of the teams run into problems.
To art: "Guest passes are not required... We'll manage." He looks at Mel and the Frenchman and Daddy that seemed to hop on as well... "Okay so how do we split our responsibilities?... I can try to hack us into the guest list when we are close to the event. It will make life easier... But a better option is to explore the existing guest list we can try and disguise as someone that will not attend. Sometimes the polite methods are a lot more stealthy than hacking."
-
The Frenchman shook Solo's hand with a firm grip. They call me The Frenchman. I can give some hurt with this - he opened his jacket to show his holstered pistol - and am a decent pilot. If the price is right I'll take a bullet for you too.
They were interrupted by the Johnson finally giving more details. That was gonna be an interesting night.
Not unexpectedly the others continued the chit chat to get ready but the pale man with the braided hair made an out loud decision proving he either didn't pay any attention to what the Frenchman had said, he simply ignored it. He was called Daddy, said the ARO broadcasting to the group. From his previous conversation he was one of those 'spiritslingers', which could explain...
The Frenchman looked at Solo then Mel with an obvious disappointment on his face. People not paying attention to instruction is how entire team get jacked.
You were not invited to the party, buddy. He said to Daddy. I have no doubt you have all the skills necessary to accomplish the task and maybe are even more fitted to it than any of us. But if you come one of the team is losing its Magic support. You'll have to replace Solo here, which means we'll lose our Matrix support to get the Wife. Not wise.
He looked at Solo. What do you think?
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
”Alright, I’ve got a few micro cameras as well. These little guys are something amazing in all honesty. If you put them up in places, I can watch the video feed from them, letting you guys know what is going on, warn you of things and generally direct you around. I’ve got ten of them, though I’d want to use a few to watch where I’m at. “ he says taking small little cameras out of his pockets to pass to the others. “That’s the wonderful thing about matrix.. Its everywhere! And the worst thing too of course. In anycase, I can provide the matrix support for the kids, I do have a few ways to knock them out, and provide the medical support needed to make sure the damage isn’t permanent.”
His ears lower slightly though, he realized he had to go with the creepy old looking guy, and the creepy other guy. They were more like the cultists attempting to raise Chuthulu, than someone who was suppose to save a couple of kids. Well, he’ll have to just bring hope to run from his own side of thing.
[spoiler]Mr. Peabody is offerning 8 of his 10 microcameras out to the runners here. These cheap disposable tools are quite useful. [/spoiler]
-
Solo return the handshake with a firm grip. He uncovers a gun of his own and say... "I appreciate it... I too got your back... but let's hope not to use them."
He is a bit surprised when the Frenchman talks Daddy up. If there is one thing he learned over his missions is to be careful of mages. Not two mages are the same and some of them are freaking scary... especially at the level involved.
To the Frenchman he said: "Daddy here got two bounded spirits hanging around somewhere in the astral. He can possibly interfere with the other groups if they run into problems. I think we can always use an additional runner... and there are many ways to solve problems... we cannot do the logistics for all the teams."
He then politely suggest Daddy: "You might want to check the main target team or the children teams... Like my friend here reminded your special skills may be in high demand...
By the way do you mind doing me a solid and do some astral recon now? Like I said I can augment your intuition so you see better."
-
"People, slow down for a second. I understand we have a time table, but runners in a hurry make mistakes." Smiley then turn to Art, while not at all appearing to do so, the Amerind asked him several questions relating to the run, and studied him closely as he answered each one, specifically looking for evasiveness or subtle lies.
(OOC: Judge Intentions on each answer, also bringing whatever applicable magic to bear on reading him. Smiley will ask our group post questions from the OOC conglomerate)
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Tobbis sighed, none of the other runners were really listening to him now. Though of course that was how it was normally, it was hard after all to respond to someone who was about half the height of you. One of the reasons he liked working with other dwarves. Pausing for a moment he checked to make his suit wasn’t active, he shook his head.
Kermit the Trog was right in that it was not easy being green, even though Tobbis wasn’t he knew what the troll puppet meant. Or at least came up with his own thoughts, especially after that run a while back.
[Friday ███ █th, 20██, ██ █████, London]
Tobbis was just fresh off the boat, so to speak. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, a little too literally in all honesty. An up and coming technomancer with a little too much hope. Something that he still had a bit of the issue with, as he often scourges the internet for tails of general decent humanity, often times ignoring the tales of wheel and woe.
Being a technomancer it was far too easy for him to get into the latest matrix games, and he did. Quite a bit. He had figured if he was good at Shadowrun online, he’d be good in real life missions. It was this run, that taught him bullets hurt. A lot. If it wasn’t for ࢍ██§9§9 he would have §☻█╓█╒│░►☼6
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
He shook the noise out of head, coughing a little. “Ah.. well couldn’t he couldn’t kinda help in all locations, he’s got those spirit things right? The Kids are the one group Art said would have magical and matrix protection. I’m.. Not too offensive, but I can provide some sight on matrix things, and we can bring some hell to their door step. But I agree not to use Leathal force. I don’t really carry anything that can really hurt people. But I do have my own medical gear, and a car.”
-
Solo smiled to himself in respond to Smile's remark.
He knew the Johnson is hiding stuff - and he knew that if he had access to this kind of runners that he will not detail more than he must. But Solo was still alive, defeating the statistics and nothing good ever comes out of the mouth of a Johnson.
They will take their own astral and matrix recon and verify any information given if it is critical to the success of the mission.
Besides if Art thinks that it can be one in such a rush the intelligence had to be top notch - otherwise... well he need the extraction to work more than they do. No bad rep if the dream team of the shadows cannot do it... it simply cannot be done. Solo never considered himself as a top runner, but a short matrix search reveled that the rest of the people in the group are very expensive to hire. This person must be extremely important.
To Mr. Peabody: "Actually camera's are a very good idea... I'd like to have one to watch our ride while we are away... Just to make sure it is still there... Thanks for the tip man - I totally appreciate it. I'll bring my own micro camera's to the next run. If I make it out alive that is" He laughed.
He was a little bit nervous - but he felt that knowing your own limitations and being considerate when taking risks are good qualities for runners that want to survive. Being nervous before a run, no matter how easy it sounded was one of his gifts... happy people do not check under their cars before they start the engine.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, West End, London]
Al was barely three blocks away when his comm pinged with the network connection from someone called Isaint.
Now he had handles for most everyone, and commcodes to go with them. At the first red light he routed his Caliban's visuals to one corner of his windscreen display and commanded all text messages to convert to voice and play through the van's audio system.
Spike always hated it when he did that.
Then he spoke: <<@All - Groovy baby. Barely five minutes out the door, comms already up. Color me impressed. Y'all finished the plan too? Now jist tell ol' Al he's partnered up with one o' them two fine creatures o' the nobilis femalus persuasion, an' I'll sing for ya all the way ta Oxford, happier'n a hog inna bog.>>
-
"Guys, we really can discuss all this en route. It's one and a half our to drive, you all have commlinks and all plans will need to include what we find on location. We can reassign team members once we are all in Oxford. Just start up your comm, log into Grid Guide and we can continue talks about the inns and outs of this situation."
Isaint felt the touch of the Saint in his blood: Once he had committed himself to a course of action, he was always filled with impatience.
<<Art, you better get in on that conference call. And stay available. With that much rush we will have to move very fast.>>
-
"And that leaves us with the kids?" Sarah asked. The changeling, Tobies, had already volunteered, and the other teams probably wouldn't need her or Daniel's assistance. "I vote we knock them out from the atart. I really do not want have to deal with kids if we get into problems." Sarah continued, ignoring the fact that she wasn't much older than the two she was talking about. Hearng Tobies she turned to him "I'll go. I can handle not bringing any spirits in. Also, in case the medical stuff doesn't work I have some non-lethal stuff that should do the trick. You coming with us Daniel?"
-
The details leaking weren't any much reassurance, but Mel knew it was going to be one of those runs when she got such a short notice. The elf wasn't used to working with such a large group, which might explain why she thought it was strange people were making plans without having heard the whole story yet or even having discussed price. To top it all off, the strangest-looking mojo slinger was bent on joining her to the social event. *At least the party chaser seems to be asking the right questions* thought the elf as she listened to what Art was telling them.
[spoiler]Post count: 5 [/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Th albino orc nods as he takes the bag, slinging it easily over his shoulder. As the comlink network springs up he starts organizing the feeds into groups in his peripheral, a software setup bringing them more into the center as messages come through depending on urgency.
<Snow Crash to group> [Time is short people and we ain't got time to sit around for 20 questions. Sure we don't have all the information we need, sure the timing is ridiculously tight. But we're all pros, we get paid the bucks we do for getting jobs like this done.]
<Snow Crash to Smiley and Hallucination> [Let me know pronto if you want a lift or prefer to ride your own wheels and want me to take some extra gear. I'm heading for my ride now to drop this bag off. *sends a map location of where his ride is parked*]
-
Daddies smile drops a bit Listening to the frenchman talk for a moment before a cold smile crept across his face and he raised his hands in a placating manner
No Worries French, Ill go where I'm needed
To Snow Crash: Let me Grab My gear And ill meet you at your Ride,I'm Heading out with Y'all instead, Ill do Astral Recon On the way Love Daddy
I appreciate the boost solo like i said, astral not my game
Once the spell from Solo takes effect, daddy is going to drop Into the Astral in the car after grabbing his Foci and mask from his car, before sending it back home on the grid
Once astral
I really hate doing this
Daddy is going to travel to each location, Making sure to stay far enough away from each location so as to not draw too much attention, but close enough so he can get an idea of how many awakened, how many spirits, watchers and other Awakened or dual nature creatures are at each location.
-
Solo addressed the other matrix people in the team: Mr. Peabody and Snow.
To snow - <<Snow Crush [M4g!(] ...care to help me with some matrix searches... for old times sake?>>
To Mr. Peabody... "<<I could use a hand doing some matrix stuff care to help?>>"
He starts with a little magic, improve intuition spell to make him sharper.
[spoiler]
Improve Intuition Spell F5 (http://orokos.com/roll/285769): 15d6t5 4
drain:
resist drain (http://orokos.com/roll/285774): 11d6t5 7
intuition raised by 4 no drain, heightened concern activated to ignore sustain modify for matrix search.
[/spoiler]
He quickly starts searching the matrix for the guest list, crossing reference with the names to gather names and pictures - including the wife her interests social connections in that party. He is looking for guests that are not going to appear because they either have previous engagements or for any other reason. He try to collect as much information on these guests.
[spoiler]
He rolls:
10 intuition + 6 computers + 2 adept power + 1 brand loyalty +2 hot sim = 21 dice.
Limit is 6 due to deck - but it will increase if Snow or Peabody help him.
Matrix Search (Guest List and wife) (http://orokos.com/roll/285770): 21d6t5 10
10 hits! but he is only allowed to keep 6. So unless help increases his limit we'll settle for 6 hits.
[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
<Snow Crash -> Solo> [Hurm, sure Solo. Surprised you don't just some magical thing to help you out rather than just relying on us mundanes to help you out. Lemmie just get to my car so I can relax, send me the data as well and I'll see if I can make some connections.] Coming through a DNI and a simrig comlink the message carries a confusing jumble of over and under tones, it impossible to really tell if, or how much, he's joking and if he's actually upset or not.
Hefting the bag he walks the couple of blocks to his car, places the bad in the boot next to his own kit and gets behind the wheel. Eyes closing as he leans back and relaxes, His normal vision replaced by the sights, sounds and sensations of the London grid, taking a slightly different track, looking up information on the primary and wife while cross referencing with corporate and national political data.
[spoiler]Computer Search:
Computer 6 + Intuition 5
Computer Search (http://orokos.com/roll/285781): 11d6t5 3 hits, assissting Solo
Corporate connection to run
Corporate Politics 4 + Logic 8 + Mnemonic Enhancer 3
Corporate Politics (http://orokos.com/roll/285785): 15d6t5 6 hits
Mental limit is 12 so easily keep this.
Political connection to run
National Politics 4 + Logic 8 + Mnemonic Enhancer 3
National Politics (http://orokos.com/roll/285788): 15d6t5 6 hits
Again, Mental limit is 12[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Tobbis rubs the back of his head. Help someone else to do a thing. Well, he supposes he could run a quick matrix search to assist him. "Alright, I can help with your search there.. if there is other data to be found, I've got a few special order agents that I can use." He lies. They weren't agents, but sprites.
It was going to take an least an hour to get to where they needed to go, giving him plenty of time to reset up between then and now.. So moving to his car he climbs into the back seat, down in the foot area of the back seats.
There was some advantages to his small, child like stature, and this was one of them, as he could lay down across the seat, covering himself with a few blankets, or as he rather preferred, using his chamealon suit to blend into lower areas down there as he dove into VR as well, hot simed.
Ah the matrix, his constant companion that one day would betray him, leaving the poor changeling alone and bloodied, and whatever else there was. First things that came up onine was his vehicles sensor systems and the microcamera feeds he placed, as well as the ones other had taken with them.
Then his biomonitor as well, another important asset to a technomancer himself. The auto-injector poised and ready to fill his veins with a number of chemicals, or using the respirator system, he could inhale a few others. No one really cared until he put on the mask. Thats what a villain would say, totally.
For now, he needed to dull his senses, increasing his fortitude against the effects of the matrix. taking a breath, he could feel all the pain of his body just stop, his pain editor activated.
Loading -
[spoiler]
Cause I haven't done it yet and it should be done now or never.
Starting Funds (http://orokos.com/roll/285794): 5d6 20
Dice is 6 Skill+7Logic+2 for hot sim
Assist Matrix Search for Solo's Data (http://orokos.com/roll/285796): 15d6t5 5
And I've just been informed that was wrong. So before we activate the pain editor, as that decreases my ability to do searches,
Dice is 6 skill, +5 lntuition +2 for hot sim.
Assist Matrix Search for Solo's Data (http://orokos.com/roll/285797): 13d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
With that assistance out of the way, he compiled a data sprite next.
[spoiler]
I'll roll both sides here, as it will speed things up. If you'd like to roll its own defenses instead, that could be done.
Compiling Level 5 data sprite
Compile level 5 (http://orokos.com/roll/285798): 11d6t5 2
Level 5 Data Sprite resistance (http://orokos.com/roll/285799): 10d6t5 6
Fade vs 12 (http://orokos.com/roll/285801): 13d6t5 2
Spending edge to reroll that fade. -.-.
Fade take 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/285802): 11d6t5 2
Taking 8 points of stun damage of the bat. Really, Every test I rolled against this thing, only two success. At least I never glitched, though I came very close there.
[/spoiler]
Tobbis grits his teeth in the matrix world as the betrayal starts really flippin early. What the dreck was up with that?!
But he learned his lesson from the first time he started trying to do this, and that pain editor holds up. All that was needed now was for him to rest, and send messages as he lays there, recovering from the shock of being blasted by the series of unfortunate events.
-
To Snow Crush:<<Oh... that thing sorry for being cryptic about it... I was too hot and still needed the cash. Was the only way I was sure not to attract the wrong kind of attention. I would have used mojo if our asses were on the line but you handeled it so brilliantly there was no need to do so.... >>
Besides... Mojo is dangerous... makes you a target. A combination of skills like my own would have been identified by the corp in a second. he thought.
[spoiler]
With cooperation... limit increases to 8. And as we started with 10 hits... no need to roll extra dice 8 hits are kept... hanks guys.
[/spoiler]
-
The Frenchman nodded at Isaint, agreeing with his assessment of leaving asap. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had met the man before, and really wanted to dig deeper into that, but now wasn't the time.
Turning to Mel he offered a hand to help her stand. Madame, may I trust I will be giving you a ride to Oxford today? he politely said with a grin.
Solo, are you ok doing your Shenanigans on a bike? I can take you there too if you want, that'll give you 1h30 at peace in the back seat.
-
Solo replies: Lets autopilot the bike... we will be safer togheter in a car. Can never be too paranoid.
-
Isaint had pulled into the street and activated grid guide, when he began searching trough the info packet Art had sent to them.
He listened with one ear to the chatter of the conference call while he scanned the packet for relevant info:
Where were good parking spaces to be had, and where could you get a decent cup of soycaf. In his experience, those were the places you could find a rival runner team.
He opened a little side chat with Snow Crash, Al and Daddy:
<<I'm on the road. As far as I can see, the best place to do a stake out of the math building (https://www.google.de/maps/place/Mathematical+Institute/@51.760434,-1.263224,567m/data=!3m2!1e3!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x0:0x14fcdb0deacb3a22!6m1!1e1) would be the Radcliffe Observatory. If I had to guess, that's where the opp-force will have someone stationed, as well as at "The Royal Oak" pub.
Let's meet up behind Saint Anne's College>>
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, eastbound on A3211, London]
Al was driving with the window down, only the oncoming traffic lanes between him and the Thames. He didn't mind the rain coming in.
The data packet from Art was fun stuff - especially the part about the other team - and someone had attached the team assignments. He was a bit disappointed neither of the elven hotties was on his watch, but glad to be working with Snow again. A bit unhinged, but knew what he was doing.
Working his dying Lucky Strike over to one corner of his mouth, he responded to Isaint, Snow, and this Daddy character: <<Roger that, be there in about ninety. Feller I used ta work with is teachin' there at Oxford now - I'll give 'im a call, see what he can tell me about campus security an' so forth.>>
Then he opened up his line to the whole team: <<Anyone needs extra wheels, I'll have a BMW 400GT behind St. Anne's College in ninety. An' I was thinkin' about that other team. Jist talkin' out loud an' all, but seems unlikely they's also goin' fer the family. If'n Art's not full o' shit an' this whole shebang really is a voluntary gig on our side, then it's involuntary on theirs. An' if so, why'd they go to the trouble of a triple snatch jist ta keep the guy happy?>>
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, King William Pub, London]
Replying back to Sarah and Dan, <<Yes, it would probably be best to knock them out early on. Reduce the number of things that could go wrong after all. However if they're being attacked already, we shouldn't. Rather we can use that to our advantage to convince them to come with us if they want to live.>>
-
<<I need a place where I can summon a spirit, or multiple spirits. Even if they can't cross the house border, they will still probably be useful to have around.>> replied Hallucination
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, Leaving London]
As you drive out of London, out past the giant rusting spars of the bio dome they’d once tried to cover London in, traffic, both physical and digital, dramatically drops off…after all, why would anyone want to leave the capital? It makes you feel somewhat exposed but at least the roads aren’t entirely empty. The motorway is maintained, after a fashion, but you get the distinct impression that motor vehicle wouldn’t be the transport method of choice for those with the money to influence where money gets spent on infrastructure…
…as you approach Oxford from the north east you are greeted first of all by the corporate glass and steel monstrosities rather than the so called ‘dreaming spires’ that make up the centre of the city. This finally feels more like the environment most of you are used to…although more paranoid, more repressive, more brooding…
***
The journey through astral space is more or less a reverse of the physical one, from the urban blight of London you pass out into wilderness. Even this close to the capital the feeling of ancient mana reclaiming the land is evident. It feels wild, not quite feral and not really malevolent, more uncaring of the petty metahuman lives that fleetingly pass over it…
…streaking ahead past the dark and repressed nature of the corporate castles the mana field is replaced by the effects of the endless, or near as damn it, thirst for knowledge that surrounds the university that forms the bulk of the centre of the city.
The maths institute is warded unfortunately and leaving that one for now you approach the Randolph. The party is already warming up and the self-satisfied auras of the rich do gooders fills the ancient building, picking out the wife in this lot will be next to impossible. The house in the north of oxford is somewhat harder to pin down but eventually you match the astral to the physical location. There are two teenage auras in the house, easily discernible by their roiling emotional state, two rather bored people you suspect are general staff and two who from their slightly more alert state would seem to be security. There is indeed a watcher patrolling the site but you are able to evade it for now…
-
Oh... the cooperate monsters the aww and power. While most runners are a bit unease in this environment Solo is a bit nostalgic. "If I did not know just how I became a cooperate citizen, I'd totally stay... the money was better than in the Shadows and despite the stigma, if you are high enough on the food chain the hours are not that bad..."
...
"But they needed to pay and they did... Solo had everyone that ever knew him killed... he was this angry. Poor technomancers... he thought... same shit but many years later. How could everyone I know lie to me?"
-
[Spoiler]recoverycheck (http://orokos.com/roll/286046): 13d6t5 6 [/Spoiler]
<<You can ride with me, summon them as we ride.>> Tobbis offered Sarah before they left.
-
Dammit, I wasn't expecting the Entire Maths to be warded, what the hell have they got to hide in there> Daddy scowled for about 15 or 20 minutes at the Institute,making sure to get a close look at anything with an aura outside the wards, Spirit or otherwise before heading out to the Randolph.
Well this is fun, lets find the Self content rich woman among all the rich people, This is going to be like shooting myself in the foot Daddy stays and checks out the area, again looking for any spirits or auras in the other floors of the Randolph as well as the nearby streets'
Finally, something easy-ish, two staff, the two kids, looks like two guards and a watcher guard dog, There's gotta be Trix support and a Spirit on call for that watcher
Daddies gonna hang out a few minutes longer, farther away from the house so the watcher doesn't get huffy and keep an eye out for any auras or spirits that may be somewhere along the streets or in adjacent houses
Last thing we needs is for the neighbor to have extra security looking out for his fellow Urban Brawl buddy or something
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, M40 outside Oxford]
Al felt a pang of disappointment as Oxford’s lights loomed on the skyline. The rain had stopped, and it had finally gotten dark barely half an hour ago. Al loved driving on an empty road at night, and he’d not had nearly enough of it. The tortured voice of the Divine Horsemen’s legendary frontman was wailing loudly from his sound system’s second channel, and had been for the past hour. It had made keeping up with all the planning chat difficult, but near as he could tell it was proceeding well enough, and soon he’d stopped paying any attention at all. If someone needed him to do something, he was sure they’d tell him.
And plans...they never lasted past the first five minutes anyway.
Back in London he hadn’t wasted much time in his shop. Grabbed a case of beer, rechecked his go-bags, moved the weapons in the Beamer to the Bulldog’s smuggler hole. He’d never bothered upgrading the car’s autopilot - he hated the damned things - but he hadn’t disconnected either. And tonight, it’d be enough to tell it to just follow the van. Spike did his business on the street outside, and they were off.
Once on the M40 he’d called Professor Daniel Curtis, lecturer in parazoology at Oxford University. Using the windscreen to display the call made it just a bit hard to see the road as he barreled along in the fading light at ninety-per, but really, what was the worst that could happen? He only needed one hand to drink his beer.
The West Indian ork’s English was smoother than the Queen’s, his voice like cream on strawberries. Just listening to him, you’d never know he was fifty-one, which was something like two hundred or so in human years.
“Al, old boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Well, reckon it’s June 17th.”
“A day that shall live in infamy,” the decrepit ork chuckled. The strength of his practiced voice seemed to have sucked every ounce of vitality from the rest of him, and even sitting in there in a wingback leather chair in his library, he looked always as though he were about to fall over. Laughing was an extreme sport.
“You remember?”
“I’ll never forget. 2057. The day our catch managed to give birth even after it was dead.”
“We was towin’ ‘er into Inverness fer the bounty...”
“And its delightfully distorted progeny managed to work its way along her body and onto our bloody boat.”
“Who was it it got?”
“I believe his name was Roderigo. Angolan. Hadn’t been with us long.”
“Yeah, hell, thing bit that stumpy halfer’s hairy head clean off.”
A twisted smile wormed its way across the old teacher’s tusk-line. “Still a racist prick, I see, Al Guthrie.”
“Shee-it, baby, ol’ Al’s no racist. Hell, there’s a coupla keeb chicas I jist met tonight, I’d take either or both.”
“Just so. Well, actions do speak louder than words, and if you’d not been skeet shooting on the deck with your...what was it?”
“Beer can catapult...only empties, of course.”
“Of course. If you hadn’t been there, Defiance in hand, the thing would have had me next.”
“End of story - doubled our take.”
“That it did. I only wish I’d documented it better. But those were different days.”
They were indeed, Al thought, recalling the Herculean ork that had captained their boat, barking his orders to their ragtag crew of critter hunters in his thick Jamaican accent. Sometimes he had to look twice to be sure it was the same person.
“But you didn’t call me just to reminisce.”
“Well, fact is, drivin’ ta Oxford right now.”
“About time. You’ve been back in England for, what is it, three, four months now? And finally getting up to see me in person.”
“Yeah, hopin’ that’ll be the case. Fact is, though, feller’s gotta pay the bills.”
“I see. And how can I help?”
“Well, love ta have a chat about what security’s like on that there campus o’ yours....”
-
Smiley makes it clear to Art he is in no hurry, that he wants the answers to his questions. He sets his comm to autotranscribe their words in preparation to transmit to the others. Regardless of any Judge Intetions results his face shows complete trust in the Johnson's words.
(JI roll is 8d6 base, not sure if I get bonuses for any of my magic abilities)
“Okay, you mentioned that the target is a willing scoop, is he in on this plan to pick him up tonight or is this simply schedule intel we have that we are acting on? “
“You mentioned another team, is it just one, do you know who they are? Do they know about us? Are they jumping in on our action, or is it the other way around? Or is the target a jump ball for whoever can get him? It matters because then we have an idea of what that other team knows.”
“On the subject of the other team, are we fighting them for the wife and family too, or just the primary?”
“Going back to the wife, any intel on her or the event she is at? What does her security detail consist of?”
“Does the primary have a security detail?”
“You said you don’t care about the other team, what is the word on collateral damage beyond them? If we have to be rough with any of the targets, how much is too much?”
“We get an address when we have the primary, do you want the family if we miss him or the primary without the family if we miss them?”
“Drop details: If we are being chased, are we going to get waived off the drop? Or is a hot drop available? You want the family as one drop or can we space it out? Is the safe house for the target and family alone or can we linger as well? Are we on the clock for the drop as well?”
_________________________________________________
In addition, Smiley will contact Snow Crash "I am good, I carry what I need and I can catch up to you on my hog."
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, Outside King William Pub, London]
Snow crash opens his eyes again, settling back into meatspace again, scowling a little as he notes a lack of response from the other bike riders.
<Snow Crash to Smiley and Hallucination> [From your lack of response I guess you want to make your own way. Just don't forget we're on the clock here]
The albino orc spends a minute or two sorting through maps before pulling out into the evening traffic.
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, Leaving London]
Snow Crash kept his focus on the road, still mulling over what he'd found out but making sure all the pieces fit before telling anything to the crew. A wry smile as the groupings start to settle down and he sees Al's comlink listed under the primary target group.
<Snow Crash to Al> [Well, seems we'll be rumbling together again. Hope things aren't as... interesting as last time... took me a week to get clean again, and some of it was a total loss.
Turning over how they would get into the institute in his mind he pulls up a browser window and starts looking into the Matrix Sciences section of the institute... it was short notice but it was his field of expertise and might provide at least himself a way to walk in without problems.
[spoiler]Computer Search: Mathematics Institute, Matrix Sciences division.
Computers 6 + Intuition 5
Computer Search (http://orokos.com/roll/286198): 11d6t5 2 hits
This could be important, so going to spend an Edge on Second Chance and reroll the fails
rerolling 9 dice
Computer Search - Second Chance (http://orokos.com/roll/286199): 9d6t5 4 hits
Total hits 6, Data Processing Limit 7[/spoiler]
-
Satisfied with the answers the Johnson gave to Smiley's questions, Mel smiled as she gladly let the Frenchman help her, standing up from her seat with the grace only an elven woman has. Seeming as comfortable as always, she answered "Mademoiselle" to his offer, quickly following with "Your ride is perfect, as long as you get us there on time."
[spoiler]Post count: 6[/spoiler]
-
As Solo takes a sit in the Car, he politely say: "I'll be right back... let me just verify that the car is clean..." His body become numb as he decent into the matrix looking for hidden devices, or devices that are there but shouldn't be in there.
[spoiler]
Solo rolls a matrix perception test:
intuition 10 + computers 6 + specialty (matrix perception) 2 + 2 improved computer + 1 brand loyalty + 2 hot sim = 23 dice, limit is data processing (6)
Matrix Perception (Hidden Devices) (http://orokos.com/roll/286274): 23d6t5 9
He indeed reach the limit of his not so impressive deck 6 hits are kept.
(he also did a matrix search about the wife, the party her social connections to here, and a possible way to get in to that party. Guests that are not going to attend and so on.)
[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, M40 outside Oxford]
<Snow Crash to Al> [Well, seems we'll be rumbling together again. Hope things aren't as... interesting as last time... took me a week to get clean again, and some of it was a total loss.
<<Well, kemo sabe, ya wear all white on a damned CHUD-hunt, yeah, reckon yer laundry bill's gon' eat into yer profit margins. Anyhoo, appreciated the firepower, but it was you turned a perfectly dry chamber o' horrors into a swamp-flooded deluge of a chamber o' horrors.>>
-
Isaint had parked his bike, removed the helmet and turned the color of his long coat to match the oxford blue, that the local civil workers wore. He took a moment to get his bearings and looked for all the usual signs of trouble:
Security, cameras, suspiciously parked cars, workers who only stood around doing not a lot of work (the last bit was tricky - it was almost impossible to differentiate between a lookout and a genuine public paid road worker. You had to get close and smell if they were drunk or not.)
[spoiler]
Perception check Visual:
Perception Check (w/ Vision Enhancement) (http://orokos.com/roll/286307): 18d6t5 2
Wow, that's a really unlikely result. Way to start this run...
[/spoiler]
After he was satisfied, that he wasn't under immediate surveilance, he strolled toward the agreed upon meeting place.
When his comm told him, that Snow Crash had arrived he strolled casually to his car and "knocked" over his comlink: <<I'm at your car, let me in for a moment.>>
After being granted access, he nodded towards the albino hacker and opened his backpack.
First he assembled his rifle - a cheap Ruger 101 but fitted with a genuine optical scope as well as a smartgun system. Two magazines were taped together, one black, the other red. He inserted the black one filled with gel rounds. If it came to it, the red one contained APDS. With a bit of concentrated fire those would be enough to penetrate even heavy military armor. The suppressor he left off for the moment and instead stashed it and the rifle in a custom carry bag.
When he was finished he grinned at the ork decker:
"You don't mind if I leave the gun here for the moment? I've a permit, but it's really hard to hide under a trench coat."
After this, he methodically retrieved his other weapons: Two quick draw holsters, containing tasers found their way to his thighs, a large Savalette Guardian with it's own suppressor found its way into the special holster in his Wild Hunt Jacket. Finally, Isaint produced a revolver that seemed heavier than the sports rifle. Isaint carefully chambered two normal rounds, two gel and two APDS into the cylinder. A short command over his trodes DNI ensured, that the smart gun correctly knew which bullet was were and could turn the cylinder to the correct position. This monster came to rest in a concealed holster at the small of Isaint's back.
He took his time to adjust all weapons, so that they couldn't be spotted casually. He even called upon the power of the saint to improve his dexterity to get he job done
[spoiler]
Attribute Boost: Agility (http://orokos.com/roll/286311): 7d6t5 0
Attribute Boost: Agility Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/286312): 10d6t5 3 no drain
Try again:
Attribute Boost: Agility (http://orokos.com/roll/286313): 7d6t5 4
Agility +4
Palming (http://orokos.com/roll/286315): 15d6t5 8
One point under the physical limit.
[/spoiler]
Incredibly, when he was done, the artillery seemed to have vanished on his massive body.
Satisfied he, turned back to the decker:
"So, do you happen to have found our target already?"
[spoiler]
Post count: 11
[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, behind St. Anne's College, Oxford]
Al shook and buttoned. `You could drink a lot of beer on a ninety minute drive.
Walking back to where the vehicles were parked, he took in the old buildings that spoke of age, privilege, and promise for the UK's, hell, the world's elite. It was his first time in Oxford. In fact, for all the time he'd spent in England, it was his first time inland from the London sprawl, most of his time having been spent on the water. He thought for a moment of what his life might have been like if he'd followed in the footsteps of his big sister Clementine and gone off to college. But the line of thought ended quickly enough - hypotheticals were of little interest to him.
Those that had arrived were busy talking, no doubt planning something clever. "Snow, you'll remember Spike," he said, referring to a lanky black mutt large enough that Al didn't have to bend at all to reach down and stroke behind his twitching ears. Both the man and the dog smelled like they needed a bath. "Rest of ya, let Spike here get yer scent, so's he knows ya inna pinch."
-
she answered "Mademoiselle" to his offer, quickly following with "Your ride is perfect, as long as you get us there on time."
The Frenchman let a grin appear on his face. Maybe it was for the Mademoiselle comment, indicating the elf lady had no attachment, or the time challenge that would suit him perfectly.
He brought his two passengers to be to his sport car and hit the road.
The Elf Hacker was fast in lala land in the back seat, leaving him and Mel to take care of the chit chat. He used his DNI connection to commnicate with Solo, though, while the Hacker was in VR.
Solo, I hope the the trip will give you the time to find what you need. If you get the chance though, look this up for me:
The charity is in the Randell hotel, probably in there main ballroom. See if they have any rooms still available and if you can book one if so. That'll give us a legitimate access to the premise.
Look up the Johnson's file and see if we have a visual of the Wife so Mel and I can get familiar with it.
Thanks.
Upon exiting London, the Frenchman hit the gas. The engine felt amazing and the Frenchman loved to drive the good old fashion way: Manual Control.
-
The car was scanned.. and with the speed of thought Solo scanned the matrix... Icon after Icon passed under his careful observation assisted by Snow and Mr. Peabody. He was able to assess a picture of who are the guests, what is the charity all about and so on...
[spoiler]Already rolled that search (8 hits total)
[/spoiler]
When the Franchman's message arrivied he answered :<<Roger that!>>
He rushed the matrix towards the hotel's icon. In the matrix, the hotel was designed to look similar to an hotel in meat space... However the walls were purple and he could feel the intensity of the data grows as he approached their main host. It was shaped as a reception man, his eyes glowing with a purple glow... they radiated power. Solo approached it with aww, understanding the danger of hacking such a host he tried to remain true to his moto - minimum amount of force necessary:
"I need a room" he 'said' to the host
[spoiler]
If there are no free rooms Solo wants to spoof one of the guests that have not yet checked in, cancel their order and (legitimately) book the room under their SINS a moment after from a different device. I am not sure what to roll but it sounds cool to me.
[/spoiler]
When he was near the host he messaged the Frenchman:
<<I am querying the host now for possible free rooms... if there are no free rooms... I suggest we do this: I will spoof a signal out of one of the guests that did not check in yet and cancel the reservation.
You'll have to be ready to book a room that very second... legitimate way... that way even if they discover my bluff later - you will have a legitimate order not linked to my identity. >>
He then skillfully browse the file and send them the images to their devices along with any additional relevant information. It only takes a few moments.
<<So guys(Mel and Frenchman)... how about coming with some initial plan what to do once we get in to that hotel one way or the other...>>
-
Isaint gingerly extended his hand towards the large dog's snout. When the beast failed to take off any fingers, he carefully petted its head. To Al he said: "Nice calf, but be careful: Unless you have body armor for him, I'd hate to get him into trouble."
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, behind St. Anne's College, Oxford - Primary Extraction team]
Snow Crash wasn't entirely sure what to think of Al being here... especially when Al and Spike crossed upwind of him, the albino orcs nostrils faring a little with a flicker of a grimace.
He chuckles at Isaint's comment "Don't worry about Spike, fragging mutt barely even flinched at that ghoul pack back in that tribal commune in Seattle."
He looks Al over slowly before speaking "Seems to streets haven't been kind to you since we last met Al."
-
Sarah got into the back of Tobies' van and sat down cross-legged and began chanting as seh called up a spirit. She lit a small packet of Incense she had brought with her, and the fragrant smoke began to fill the back of the van. In the astral space infront of her, adistorted figure began to appear, it's appearence becoming more defined as the summoning went on, until an eagle maifested in front of Sarah. Sweating slightly, Sarah extinguished the incense, and bowed to the eagle. This was a new spirit, one she hadn't called before, and she had no idea what it was like. Thank you for responding to my call, great one. she said to it throught the astral.
[spoiler]Summonign 16#d6:[url]8 hits[http://orokos.com/roll/286882/url]
Spirit Resistance 6#1d6: [url]1 hit[http://orokos.com/roll/286884/url]
Resisting Drain 13#1d6:[url] 6 hits[http://orokos.com/roll/286886/url]
7 Services owed[/Spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, behind St. Anne's College, Oxford - Primary Extraction team]
"A veritable ghoul slayer you say? Well in that case: Welcome to the team, buddy. Hopefully they don't have any VITAS victims in there." Isaint intensified the scratching behind the ears.
"So, now that we have a more manageable group size: I looked over the data from Art and I'm sure of only one thing: We don't want to leave through the front entrance."
He pulled up the AR map (http://www.archdaily.com/516756/university-of-oxford-mathematical-institute-rafael-vinoly-architects/539e6ad9c07a803df40008c5_university-of-oxford-mathematical-institute-rafael-vi-oly-architects_oxford_maths_drawings-2_copia-png/): "There are just to many flat roofs around for an intercepting team with an anti-material rifle - yeah, yeah, sounds like overkill for an extraction, but I'm talking about worst case."
Isaint concentrated and the map moved a bit to the south. "Now, here is the Faculty of Philosophy. In contrast to math, I can't imagine that they develop anything important enough to have high security. So, I'd suggest, we make our way through into the neighboring building.
Pick up would be in the courtyard with the circular patch of grass. (https://www.google.de/maps/@51.760351,-1.261641,3a,75y,247h,90t/data=!3m4!1e1!3m2!1sb5oCvmuHljaDT-ycPlSmuA!2e0)
I know, Snow Crash can handle matrix support and getaway, I myself am trained as a bodyguard, so I'd like to take shield duty. That leaves you, Al and your hound to handle the principal and prevent him from doing anything stupid."
He looked at the zoned out form of the mage:
"What I don't know is, if Daddy can help us better by staying in the car and act as spotter and shooter, or if he should accompany us inside. Have you worked together on a previous run?"
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Heading towards Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage, Currently in VR in Hot-Sim - Collecting Data with Data Sprite]
Tobbis's cameras couldn't pick up a non-manifesting spirit of course, so he didn't know how good she did compared to his attempts to summon a sprite. For now he just had to use the sprites he did have to take on the challenges they'd soon face.
To all
Currently moving into location. Is there anything else anyone else will need on the matrix?
Mentally he facepalms as he realizes he had already had a data sprite compiled, and registered, the little thing, he took to naming Tink, floated idly around him in the matrix, like an magic stone from a game that most people are a little more hesitant to play these days, ever since dragons were found to be real.
The first thing he did then, was use the sprite to gather the data on every street, sewer, biway, hiway, pathway he could find. Sometimes the issues with these places was the fact they were a maze to make it difficult for terrorists to get around, or so goes the story.
[spoiler]Assist Matrix Search for Sprite (http://orokos.com/roll/287055): 10d6t5 7
Sprite searching for path info (http://orokos.com/roll/287056): 15d6t5 5
Post count 11[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Somewhere Between London and Oxford. Hotel Extraction Team]
Mel, comfortably sitting in the back of the Frenchman's car, replied <I find that planning from the end works best for me. So let's figure out how to leave the premises with her without getting caught.> She then had a look at the hotel material that had been forwarded to her, looking for any possible exit routes.
[spoiler]Security Design 3 + Logic 6 (http://orokos.com/roll/287087): 9d6t5 2 no glitches
Post count: 7[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Somewhere Between London and Oxford. Hotel Extraction Team]
Solo replied: <<I do not know much about security but... I have this idea that have a potential to make our life easier... who knows maybe even go out of the front door. we can make the camera feeds appear as if she already left. We can do that by disguising some other guest to the wife, while that guest is leaving. >>
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Somewhere Between London and Oxford. Hotel Extraction Team]
I'm not sure I understand what you mean Solo.
Mel, an escape route is indeed the first thing on edge should know. The only thing is we don't know yet and won't know before we leave with our target what the destination will be. It would be good to find a temporary hiding place to lose potential followers.
Here's my plan, which will include info gathering once we're there.
1- we need a visual on the target. Making our way inside the ballroom and/or security cameras. We need to identify her protection from her husband's employers and see how to neutralise them.
if we act like hotel guess, we'll have access to the premise easily. We may be blocked entry to where the Charity is held but accessing kitchen or storage room should be pretty simple. And maybe a terminal to make Solo's life easier.
2- bring the target where we want her, to proceed with the extraction. That can include creating a distraction or forcing her there.
3- well, make our exit. Front entrance is always better. If we knew where to take her would be great, but let's decide where we would takeep her in case the mission is cancelled. I'm pretty confident I can outrun any one.
On any case we should come up with plan B, in case something goes wrong in A.
Who knows about explosive here?
-
<<Well... replied Solo... I am sorry... everything moves so fast in lalaland... I'll try to start from the start.
We have two challenges, one people protecting the asset and the other people looking after the asset.
So I ask you guys... can we steal a person without nobody noticing?
With what they are paying us, the cooperate force may be very formidable and violence is bad for our health.
So basically, I think our peaceful options are:
Swap and leave, or swap and hide then leave.
Every plan I think about start with finding the target and swapping her with someone else... If we go for swap, hide and then leave - it might worth it to fool the security feed that an extraction already happened before we start... that way when they discover the ruse they'll for the security feed and see an extraction of someone very similar to the mark. Then we'll have a nice chance to get out only with light security.
We only need a dash of magic or enough cosmetics and basic props if the target is somewhat similar to Mel. In that path, we only extract once the ruse was uncovered. >>
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
Well it looks like thats all she wrote and with that daddy sent himself hurtling back to his body which came back around with a jolt and after a moment of head shaking and grumbling
<<To the Partiers>> Ok, alot of self fulfilled auras so i couldn't get alot, There are a couple spirits hanging around so im assuming theres magical security or guests there, Be careful. Love Daddy
<<To The BabySitters>> In the house i got six auras, the targets, which are teens, two that look mindlessly bored so im guessing staff and two on alert so at least two guards, the watcher isnt unique to the house, I reccomend not crossing to many properties, otherwise the properties have large trees and landscape seperating them, Have Fun, Love Daddy
Ok theats them sorted, Oh we're here Daddy rubbed his head before unzipping his small back and grabbing what looks like a necklace of teeth, all vaarious kinds of teeth, and slipping it on, Next is a smallish tattered looking book that he slips into a small travel case and attacked to his belt. Lastly a ares predator is slipped into a quick draw holster at daddys left hip, spare clips and his mask are tucked away in the inner pocklets of his jacket.
All right i dont have good news about the, oh thats a big dog Daddy smiles as he gets out and turns to the group before noticing the very large dog and after a moment moves around the car, after all its not eating the others and carefully lets the animal get used to him.
Like i was saying, No good news on the astral, Fancy walls and wards are keeping everyone out of the main buildings so i got nothing on them, but for the most part the area is more or less abandoned and that kinda has me worried, If they have no campus security they must have some very fast response times[/color With that Daddy rolls his neck and his smile once again creeps across his face, Brief indents appear on his cheek, almost like someone pushing fingers into the flesh. SO with that, Whats the Plan my Friends?]
-
Isaint quickly reiterated what he had said before and showed the mage the AR map.
"So my question was: Are you better suited to stay in the car and direct spirits or do you prefer to go on site and provide arcane tactical support?"
[spoiler]
Post count: 14
[/spoiler]
-
Approaching the host, Solo disguises himself as an update program... ' I need a mark to access the guest list'
[spoiler]
meatworld (improve logic)
Improve Logic (http://orokos.com/roll/287311): 15d6t5 7
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/287326): 15d6t5 6
no drain logic increased by 4.
Hack the guest list logic (9) + hacking 6 + adept +3 + brand loyalty 1 + 2 hot sim = 21 dice
hacking us to the guest list (http://orokos.com/roll/287316): 21d6t5 8 limit 8
If solo manages to get the guest list he performs a edit file action to add them to the guest list - the action requires a single mark so it is a conditional action.
Ops - edit file (http://orokos.com/roll/287318): 20d6t5 3
this is not good enough... unfortunately using edge to reroll faliures.
Ops - edit file reroll faliures (http://orokos.com/roll/287321): 17d6t5 5
Limit is 6...
[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
Well, the planning was in full swing. Al had really hoped to avoid this part.
Oh well, you don't have to like it, you just have to do it.
They seemed like a good enough crew. The other ork's comment about VITAS had caught him off guard, but of course hadn't meant anything by it. How could he?
Next Snow had said something about the streets not being kind, to which Al explained that they had indeed gotten a bit hot back in Seattle, but London had been treating him real fine for the past several months.
They'd all met Spike, and now they were all pointing at nothing and carefully scrutinizing the air. Al kept up as best he could on his little commlink screen. He was glad they were racing the clock. Meant this torture could only go on for so long.
-
Isaint noticed how the guy - Al, if he'd caught that right - was struggling to keep up with the explanation. 'Shit, someone without image link or DNI. That won't do.'
With a few quick commands to his link, he accessed the electrochromic surface of his coat. He turned his back towards Al and projected the map onto his broad shouldered back:
"Sorry, didn't realize you had no image link. So, as I was saying, once we have found our target, we should not leave through the front door..."
-
That's not a bad option, Solo. Mel what's your take on it?
I think it would be good to first make contact with the target. For all we know she might be willing to simply go with us. If you manage to get us passes for the Charity, her security won't be an issue while inside.
Solo, you being able to take care of both Matrix and Magic is a impressive feat on its own. Now do you have any Mojo that would change our appearance or reproduce the Wife's? Even better, changing the wife's look so we can swap it with Mel.
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
"Well hell's bells, boy, that is mighty Christian of ya," responded Al, honestly touched. "An' helluva fancy coat ya got yerself there, ta boot."
Commlink still in his left hand, he used a huge stainless-steel Zippo in his right hand to light a filterless Lucky Strike that had somehow materialized between his lips.
"But we can't hardly plan this here shivaree lookin' always at yer blamed backside," he continued, cigarette bouncing around in the corner of his mouth. "Thing is - " and he clicked a tobacco-stained fingernail on the surface of what had appeared to be a meat eyeball " - I done got a damned image link. Problem is I tend ta blow my cookies ever' time I use it. Nah, I seen what needs seein', though I do appreciate yer kindness."
He handed a piece of jerky to Spike. "Reckon yer right on all counts. Front door's out - they's only goin' fer the one target, so they team's probably bigger'n the four of us'n. I'm with you - they got eyes on the surface exits, leastways. As fer Daddy-o here," and he turned to face the tooth-festooned man, "my vote is ya come in with us. What good ya gon' do us onna outside if'n ya can't pass the damned walls?"
He looked at Snow - "These plans show dozens of offices. File says this place gon' be closed fer the night by now - if'n he's in there, then nuyen ta nutjobs our Doctor Dick is at his desk - reckon you kin work out which one's his'n?"
-
Solo replies(still on hot sim...) he talks as he hack into the guest list... "Unfortunately... I cannot change you or Mel to look like the mark... but I can make the mark invisible and replace her with an illusion... we can also make an illusion of the wife leaving the building and then when we make her disappear her security will go to the feeds and see the previous illusion we made at the beginning of the evening.
About Mojo, I am mainly a Decker... modesty requires me to tell you that I cannot consider myself a full mage... I was born awakened and there are some useful magical skills that I know but I also lack some of the skills considered basic for example I cannot look directly at the astral world, or provide magical defense against spells cast on us. What I know for this mission time frame is summoning and spellcasting. That said... I will do my best to fill our magical needs. "
-
Mel was thinking, enjoying the input from her newest partners. "I think the best way would be to get her out of there as soon as possible. If we stay and hide in the hotel, anyone that can see her Astrally won't have much of a hard time finding her." The slender elf shifted in her seat, changing her sitting position slightly. "I could wait for her to go in the bathroom and then talk her into following you guys out. If I wear something loose, or something with a hood that would partially cover my face, we could swap it in the restroom and she walk out of there with you, hopefully giving us enough time to get out before her escorts figure out what happened." Mel got to thinking, before asking Solo "What if you created the illusion of my motionless face on top of her face? Could you do that? We don't need to trick anyone looking at her, we just need to fool her bodyguards to not look at her when she exits the bathroom. We also need to be able to take care of any electronic tags she might have on her."
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
Humph.. so the witch doctor and the one that even some of the other mages look akins at... greeaaat.
"Yeah, this place looks like a warren. Good news for us, we keep our heads we can lose any pursuit... bad news is we could get turned around real easily or have someone jump us out of nowhere."
He walks around to the back of his car and pops the trunk, rummaging around he takes his jacket off to ready a concealed quickdraw holster. Inside goes an Ares Crusader II machine pistol, a blue marked clip goes in, three others are scattered around, all filled with 40 gel rounds, a final red marked clip is tucked away filled with APDS rounds... just in case he had to put someone down in heavy armor. He replaces his jacked, grabs a pair of forearm guards and straps them into place while a helmet sits atop his dreadlocks. He leaves the Ares Alpha in the trunk, this was going to be too close to use the long barreled assault rifle, much less the grenade launcher, much as he might wish to have access to the variety of smoke and gas grenades he has stashed away.
"Right, lemmie see if I can locate our payday."
[spoiler]Since we've had a change of plans, may I reuse my previous roll about the Mathematics Institute: Matrix Science Department search? I normally wouldn't worry too much but I did use a point of edge on that roll so I'd rather not have it wasted.
End result was 6 hits with a Data Processing limit of 7.[/spoiler]
-
The eagle bowed it's head. This one seemed to prefer emotions to words to communicate, and Sarah felt acceptance and respect from the spirit. "I have a spirit. How much longer until we reach the house? I actually have an idea for distracting the guard. Some sort of illusionary distraction ought to give us some cover and maybe even have him leave his post."
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
I'm better at more of the boots on the ground approach Saint and like Al here said, i can't see inside so i wont be much use out here, and i'll be honest im not too keen on the idea of splitting up more then we already have, considering we are probably already out numbered. One thing i don't get,If they are running on the same timeline as us, just shooting in the dark, but i should have picked up someone or something hanging around, So either I'm alot worse in the astral then i thought, or there's already a team inside one of the buildings
After a moment daddy dropped a hand down to Spikes head and starting scratching the dogs ears
"That and if i really need to i can call up a hellhound and let my other spirits loose to cover our asses if needed"]
After Snow announced he was searching for the payday daddy turned to Al
"So how long you had this Boy here? how old is he?"
-
Solo get out of the matrix... hopefully with their names in the guest list... He reply to Mel,
“I can do that... I can do practically anything... however the illusion have to remain within a fixed sphere and cannot move... this is why I thought about an illusion of her leaving the place and entering a real car and then the car leaves... the astral signature is long gone by the time they look at the camera...
But an illusion of her stuck in the toilet for a long time powdering her nose or anything we can imagine can be done, as it stay within a small radius.
I agree that the illusion will be visible in the astral... but if it has any place for astral stealth is in a room full of people. Too many details so it might go unnoticed for a while... Do not laugh... but I can also do something nice with faces... don’t look, don’t look... I am preparing it."
A few minutes after hiding his face in the front sit he pulls them out, his face resembles the wife’s face and his voice and body language are clearly feminine and as genuinely her as he has information from his computer search.
Solo say in a feminine voice with a British accent: “Well darling... if we wear something loose enough... (she) grins... I can also try and look the part...” (she) giggles.
He make a short small-talk with the Frenchman as well and returns his face to normal.
Solo said "This is still not the best of plans as in the astral my aura will look nothing like the wife's aura, but it may give us some time. Let's say that I have a problem from the neck down and you from the neck up" he laugh.
[spoiler]
Just for gigs how realistic the illusion is:
Disguise (http://orokos.com/roll/287565): 15d6t5 3
Improve Charisma(drop logic) (http://orokos.com/roll/287566): 15d6t5 3
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/287567): 15d6t5 5 (no drain)
highten concrern for impersonation
Improve disguise with impersonation (http://orokos.com/roll/287568): 10d6t5 3
total of 6 hits for the disguise.
[/spoiler]
-
Mel seemed annoyed. "Indeed, we both have only half what we need. If we have enough time, we could buy a basic makeup kit on the way there. It shouldn't take that long to stop in a shop and buy one. With that, I could disguise myself as the mark and we could swap commlinks to complete the switch."
-
Solo responds... seems so... I wasn't 100% for this run... I usually carry some cosmetics just in case. Frenchman... I bet there are many shops near oxford where we can get some cosmetics. Do we have time for quick shopping? Like Mel said, we could also use a tag eraser.
I have an improvised solution to create a lot of noise from my deck, but a tag eraser is how professionals extract people and make them disappear from the matrix. A new set of clothes... for the wife is also a good idea... if she cooperates having her change her appearance as much as possible is recommended.
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
"So how long you had this Boy here? how old is he?" asked Daddy.
"Reckon he's 'bout three, four at the most. Can't know fer sure," Al answered, looking up at the taller, clean-shaven man in the Mortimer coat. "First saw 'im leadin' a pack o' street dogs near my old doss in Seattle. That were 'bout eleven months back now. Had to woo 'im fer six weeks afore he'd get into my truck, we been friends ever since."
He dropped his spent Lucky and stamped it out. "So, you do that ghost thing, whole out-of-body walkabout business. Me, ain't never tried it."
-
3 or 4 huh, Just a pup and already running a pack then huh, Damn good dog to have at your side if you ask me daddy rubbed Spikes head for a few more moments
I personally don't recommend it, alot of other mojoslingers swear by its beauty, which i guess it can be but i see it more like a big damn shark tank, wild spirits and hell who knows what else and unless you got a weapon foci your just twisting in the wind in my opinion, that and apparently somethings from that place just seem to like to stick around and never go away
The dead woman's head settled on daddy's shoulder as he was talking, causing him once again to brush his hand by his face, pushing ghostly fingers away.
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
"Yup. That's about what I 'maginated. Reckon I got plenty o' rough waters in this here fallen world, don't need ta be goin' nowhere else fer trouble. Still, might not be a bad idear ta check 'er out once or twice, jist on the perhaps that exigencies should compel me ta make the jump, wouldn't want it ta be my first time, ya know, when its hittin' the fan. Yup, maybe i should." Then he shrugged. "But...manana, ya know. Best time fer ever'thing. Anyone want a beer while we wait fer Snow ta git Doctor Dick's office? They ain't hardly cold no more, but that's livin' onna dark side, right?"
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
Isaint stopped the display and shruged: "Suit yourself. As long as we are on the same page."
He nodded at Daddy's words: "Fine by me. More boots on the ground increase our chances for success. By the way, you wouln't happen to be good with illusions? That would allow us to smuggle some larger hardware with us while we pose as a janitorial detail.
But now, to the most important part: Should we contact the target beforehand? It might either help us with the extraction or blow our cover if he is under surveillance. Maybe Snow could hack some little appliance in his room to display our messages and he answers by turning the table light in his office on and off, or something like that."
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
Al accepted his own offer of a beer, congratulating himself on his foresight and preparedness.
"You want janitor plus hardware, gimme a few ticks an' I'll dummy up a carpet shampooer or somethin', be hollowed out an' big enough fer a long gun or three. Worked like a charm on a NeoNet site back in Seattle last year…course, we had uniforms an' all that…"
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]
There might have been faster ways of handling it but Snow Crash didn't want to make any overt moves just yet so instead trawled through the various publicly available data archives, eventually he smiles and the AR map is updated with a small ping, he speaks up as much for Al's benefit as anything else.
"Alright, there he is. Southwest building, forth floor. Although they call it third floor over here. Alright, I reckon we got maybe an hour before we need to start makin' our move. I've done the whole janitor thing before meself yeah, but that was on the back o' mabe a week's prep work. I doubt we can find out what company they use and lay our hands on the right uniforms in time, but then hey, sneaky stuff ain't never been my forte. Anyways, gettin late an I've been travalin' all day.. gonna take a quick power nap an make sure I'm still sharp."
It was a bit of work to keep the strain out of his voice. A new country, lots of driving, new fixer, the short deadline, lack of information, working with so many mages and seeing Al again was starting to stress the albino orc out. Just need a little something to mellow out a bit or I'm gonna be too damned twitchy for this run. He gets back into his car and relines the front seat a bit, adjusting his helmet to make himself more comfortable.
[spoiler]Palming - slotting a BTL Dreamchip
Palming 2 + Agility 6
Palming Check (http://orokos.com/roll/287969): 8d6t5 3 hits
Physical limit 7
BTL Trip
Some might wonder why anyone would want to slot in a simsense recording of a Parkour run through Downtown Seattle. Those people have never slotted a BTL, with the input and output jacked up and the filters off one felt everything of the run more than the original runner did. The flexing of muscles... the feel of gritty, worn out concrete, still warm from the autumn sun that was setting as he pushes off from it... the city smell of one of the nicer districts of the city... the steady beating of the heart... the feeling of air filling the lungs... the focus of the runner, seeing the path through the urban jungle that only people that know Parkour well can see... the slap of feet on pavement, the rustle of the urban explorer jumpsuit in the wind... There was no pursuit, no urgency, just the steady flow of movement, surroundings and awareness of both.[/spoiler]
-
"But shopping aside..." said Solo... "I got us into the guest list. So while we do not know exactly where we go out of the hotel... We know where we go in... right from the Lobby".
-
[b[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]][/b]
Nice, Appreciate the offer I'll take you up on that beer, cold or not it sounds good to me daddy turned to Saint as he popped the tab
I got a few, I can mute someone and turn them Invisible, Thermo sight or not, other then that i can throw a illusion over an area to make it look like whatever, empty hall, pool etc, As long as i'ce laid eyes on it before
A quick slug of the beer, which warm or not daddy apreciates
And thats about all i got on the illusion front, Not too much I'm Afraid
Daddy watched Snow get relaxed in his car before turning back to the others
Speaking of which I do have a couple non lethal options and if this other team has a big bruiser theres a good chance i can force him to fight them, If need be
[spoiler]Post count 12[/spoiler]
-
"I thought you guys would never ask." The Frenchman said with a smile as he pressed even more on the gas. "If I maintain that speed till we arrive we'll make it 10 to 15 before anyone else. However I don;t want to sound like the party killer, but I wouldn't hope for a decent shop open where we could get our hand on a decent disguise kit and tag eraser. The Passes and your Illusion will have to do, Solo. Thanks for it."
How did it go with the Room reservation? Did you manage to free one room?
-
Oh the speed, solo felt his adrenaline racing as the car speed up. "Yes... room reservation was one of the fields in the guest is room reservation... they have a block of rooms for the hotel guests... but it is not going to be cheap... I hacked the list, but we'll still pay for the rooms, I even booked two rooms... it will draw attention for a lady to book a room with two guys...".
[spoiler]
I asked to try and book in IC but no reply from Aria, so I took the liberty of assuming we can book a room. Shout and throw something heavy if I am over the line... I just wanted to keep rolling.
[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Heading towards Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage, Currently in VR in Hot-Sim - Collecting Data with Data Sprite]
To Sarah <<We should be there shortly, however we might want to wait a bit for the others before we make our move. The primary target is the important one, while the ones we've got are a little less important. I'll provide the primary team with some matrix assistance, while we wait. Also that creepy guy said something about a watcher spirit. According to Shadowrun online, those are bad doods, mages can use them to throw spells...>> Then realizing he was in company of one << Can't they?>>
-
Solo - Wife extraction team, currently heading to hotel.
Solo decides that since a spirit can do the delivery quite fast - or the autopilot growler or any vehicle for that matter... it is worth a try to see if any of their other teammates are better equipped.
He send a message to the team: << Guys... Due to the short time frame wr are a bit under equipped... we could use a tag eraser and a cosmetic kit... can anyone spare it ? I can send my bike to pick up.>>
Lets see if anyone on that team is in a mod for sharing. he thought to himself.
-
<< Guys... Due to the short time frame wr are a bit under equipped... we could use a tag eraser and a cosmetic kit... can anyone spare it ? I can send my bike to pick up.>>
Daddy Kinda jerked from the unexpected message but smiled after Before digging around in his jacket and after a moment of digging pulls out his tag eraser
Does anyone have a cosmetics kit hanging around? Looks like french n friends are in a bit of trouble
<<Solo, I have a tag eraser and currently finding out if there's a cosmetics kit hanging around with the others here, Love Daddy>>
-
<<Thanks Daddy! I'll buy you a bear or something when it is all behind us. If there is anything you need feel free to ask. - I am sending my Growler in autopilot, we should still be very close, we left several minutes before you guys... Just put it in that black box on the back. >> replied Solo and instructed the Growler to get back. That's one less compromise to their planning.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]]
No Problem my man, If we have a cosmetics kit i'll send it along with the eraser Love,Daddy
-
[b[Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team]][/b]
Nice, Appreciate the offer I'll take you up on that beer, cold or not it sounds good to me daddy turned to Saint as he popped the tab
I got a few, I can mute someone and turn them Invisible, Thermo sight or not, other then that i can throw a illusion over an area to make it look like whatever, empty hall, pool etc, As long as i'ce laid eyes on it before
Daddy watched Snow get relaxed in his car before turning back to the others
A quick slug of the beer, which warm or not daddy apreciates
And thats about all i got on the illusion front, Not too much I'm Afraid
Speaking of which I do have a couple non lethal options and if this other team has a big bruiser theres a good chance i can force him to fight them, If need be
[spoiler]Post count 12[/spoiler]
Isaint nodded: "Good enough. The invisibility would be very useful for a small scouting tour previous to our intrusion. Could you make me invisible for - let's say - half an hour? I could scout ahead, open some doors and look for patrols. If Snow gives me a data tap, I can also establish some direct connections beforehand."
[spoiler]
17
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Sure thing, But you'll still be able to be picked up sound wise
When Daddy gets the all ready he is gonna cast the spell over i saint
I bind the Spirits of shadow to thee,Trespass unseen, a deadly shade in the night
Daddy makes a quick claw like motion before throwing it at isaint who then vanishes
[spoiler]Improved Invisibility force 3 on Isaint (http://orokos.com/roll/288273): 13d6 54][/spoiler]
[spoiler]Resist drainresist drain 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/288272): 10d6 34 [/spoiler]
-
Solo sighed, there was something unnatural about daddy... Many people would have been hurt by the way the Frenchman spoke, but he did not he said sorry and switched teams. The thing is he does not seem the type with enough skills to hide his emotions. When he asked for help he was the first to reply eager to help. He saved Solo the need for summoning spirits by doing the astral recon and happily accepted help. Not all runners accept help, some are too proud. Solo would have been perfectly cool if one of the teammates was more skilled and he was just a backup. In fact, being sort of jack of many trades he often encountered people that were better then himself at many things. He learn he adopts he grows over time. The one truth in this business, it does not matter how skilled you are... it matters if you get the job done and there are many handles on any door. Daddy seemed to be the kind that can prosper, with a no ego friendly approach, he can get far.
[spoiler]
DrZombol if you use orokos, you can roll 10d6t5 and it will count the success for you.
Also, if you cast invisibility you can significantly augment it with the spirit concealment power.
One raises the threshold in perception check for detection, the other reduces dice from that perception check the combination - truly remarkable.
[/spoiler]
-
"Well then, hit me." Isaint made sure that he had readied his autopicker and made sure that nothing on his person would rattle or make any other unnecessary noise. After a moment of thinking he took the rifle with him: If he kept invisible, it wouldn't hinder him and if he was spotted... well at least he would have a rifle.
He rubbed over the back of his head, were the hair was still quite short. A nice fellow in Rome had tattooed god's all seeing eye on there. Since then he could concentrate and perceive the shadow world of the astral. He was very careful with this power. There were stories of practitioners who had become addicted to the raw power of such things.
When he was ready he opened a connection to Snow Crash: <<I'm going in for a recon mission under a invisibility spell. I'll take a few data taps with me. Give me a call if you notice something you want a direct connection with.>>
[spoiler]
18
[/spoiler]
-
The trio of runners finally arrived in Oxford, at this time of the day traffic was light. The Frenchman was trying hard to identify the surrounding, hoping that if he had been there before, something would pop up in his empty memory. But just as it has been for the last few months, nothing. As empty as a hobo's wallet. That feeling he had when seeing Isaint lingered in his mind. Maybe the two had worked together before, and the man was just trying to remain professional. Maybe they met in different circumstances, a bit more 'unfriendly'? He had to find out... as soon as this run would be over.
Solo, I have one more job for you. If Oxford is like London there are cameras at every corner. Can you access them? I want to park down the road of the Hotel, maybe in front of the Tom Phillips Museum if there's a spot. Making us unseen - loop, illusion, whatever else you've got in your sleeves - could help us.
For now, let's get our rooms and quickly get to the Ball. It's late already, don't want us to look too suspicious.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
After Isaint had winked out of sight and once he'd finished his message to Snow, Al put a burn-melted hand on his shoulder. "Little pathfindin' never hurt nobody, 'specially until some Prince Charmin' comes 'long an' gives our Sleepin' Beauty there a wake-up kiss, but I'm thinkin' we make the minutes count. Do her in fifteen 'stead o' thirty if'n ya can, an' then moment yer back I say we roll. All this assumin' we got till such an' such a time's a fool's play pure an' simple. Fact o' the matter is, we got no reliable idear in hell when those other cats is gon' make they play, an' ever minute we wait is a minute they got ta prep, or be there already, or even be the hell an' gone."
The little man's sandpaper voice sent wafts of beer and smoker's breath at the ork.
"Reckon we all three teams gotta go at once, but ahmina try lightin' some fire's under they asses while yer gone. Now, is there anything in particaler you want prepped in the meantime?"
-
Solo scanned the city map, along with camera's positioned.
"Like you know already... I can hack stuff and do spells. But since we might have a skilled group of runners jumping into our action I don't want to use magic or even hacking for the drop. Magic leaves astral signature and a skilled hacker will see that the camera is hacked and will know it is our ride. The most stealthy thing right now is to just drop and keep the car on autopilot nearby - we can use magic and stuff when we leave and we do not care about signature because by the time it get discovered we are long gone. Just the fact that there are so many camera's does not get you noticed before you did anything wrong... too much information is no information at all."
We can use magic and hacking on the way back when we don't care if it is discovered shortly after because we're already half way to the drop.
He disguise himself as someone else his face shift with some other features... this is my face for this run... I can erase the camera feed later.
How about this plan?
[spoiler]Disguise + facial sculpt (http://orokos.com/roll/288395): 15d6t5 4
Impersonation (http://orokos.com/roll/288397): 6d6t5 1
[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Heading towards Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage, Currently in VR in Hot-Sim - Setting up Satlink ]
Upon getting closer to the manor, Tobbis sends the signal to the car to stop still a ways away, and finally removes his mask from his face, pulling back his hood. The dogheaded humanoid was rather brightly colored, his facial features forming more of a short muzzle, and dog like face then the human he had been born as.
"Just waiting on the third person to show up, in the mean time, tell me your plan. I'm still listening even if I am in VR." His voice was child like, and he takes a moment to point to the microphones he's placed a few locations in the car. "I've got one of them a camera.. I don't think the others took any.. A shame too. Its so much easier to help when I can see things."
Pulling a small box out of his trunk he sets up the Satlink, "Now the main thing is, we've got to make sure that the Dood gets out, so.. I'll provide some matrix support until we think we can go. Cause I'm not exactly you know. Known for my body carrying abilities. I can knock out a few people, or treat injuries, and such.. but yeah." after setting a few of the left over micro crameras up, he pulls out his braincable to hook up into the Satlink, sitting cross legged facing the direction of maths building.
Breaking News * Man holds up convenience store with boomerang * Local Knight Errant baffled as this is the forth time he has returned to the same store * Wild Side releases new hit single "Hooving Fun in the Shadows" * Water, and why what you don't know can kill you Tonight on KRUG * R.A.T.S. reports latest earning being record high after recent matrix trio show casing adrenaline junkies breaking into local z-Zone becomes a resounding Success*
-
>>I'm not sure about Watcher's, ritual spirits are something I unfortunately had no experience with. However your description sounds correct.
As they reached the house Sarah looked out the car window. "Wolf should be able to carry them out. As for the guard, I was thinking about having an illusion come out, either some kind of emergency or some leg, whichever you think will work the best. Then we knock him out. He's just doing his job and a death is more likely to have the cops really take interest in nabbing us. That's the general gist of it. THe watcher spirit hopefully won't be much of a problem, time after the guard leaves his post and if we trigger the watcher is going to be the major concern. Any holes you can see in it?"
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Heading towards Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage, Currently in VR in Hot-Sim - Plotting the Nabbing ]
Over the car's speaker system "Well, I can't say for certain. Magic stuff I have now experience with either.. We don't want to do anything before the others make their move though so we don't trip up the main grab."
To Daddy and Solo
<<At the moment we're at a distance away from the manor, though we're unsure how to proceed. I've very little knowledge about these watcher spirits, Flesh, blood and Steel are my forte. Magic, not so much. Even Shadowrun online is very vague about it... Does throwing stones distract the watcher spirit allowing you to sneak past like it did in that one movie about the two street children who find a dragon in some prison system?>>
-
Solo replied mr.peabody
<< If I understand correctly, watcher spirits are the weakest kind of spirit... some do not even consider them real spirit they cannot materialize, only manifest and therefore has no way to interfere with the material word. They are mainly used to watch and notify the mage if something is wrong,
It is not easy to sneak past a watcher, especially in a sparsely populated area, your best bet is just being quick enough. >>
-
Daddy to Mr.Peabody
From what i know they are basically really weak beings, Not sure what they are exactly, from my experience they are basically like a magic security camera, They follow their orders and say if they are ordered to report because of intruder they can at almost the speed of thought, since they exist purely in the astral, That's about all i got, Love Daddy
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
After Isaint had winked out of sight and once he'd finished his message to Snow, Al put a burn-melted hand on his shoulder. "Little pathfindin' never hurt nobody, 'specially until some Prince Charmin' comes 'long an' gives our Sleepin' Beauty there a wake-up kiss, but I'm thinkin' we make the minutes count. Do her in fifteen 'stead o' thirty if'n ya can, an' then moment yer back I say we roll. All this assumin' we got till such an' such a time's a fool's play pure an' simple. Fact o' the matter is, we got no reliable idear in hell when those other cats is gon' make they play, an' ever minute we wait is a minute they got ta prep, or be there already, or even be the hell an' gone."
The little man's sandpaper voice sent wafts of beer and smoker's breath at the ork.
"Reckon we all three teams gotta go at once, but ahmina try lightin' some fire's under they asses while yer gone. Now, is there anything in particaler you want prepped in the meantime?"
"I'll try to be fast, but I won't hurry. Stealth and haste seldom go togeher. Hopefully, I can identify the opposition and all other hazards.
But it certainly won't hurt if the other teams get into position pronto."
With that Isaint's disembodied voice vanished. With a mental command he deactivated all non-essential wireless functionality of his gear and turned his com to silent mode. With quick, fluid movements he crossed over the campus of St. Anne College, passed Green Templeton and moved on to the mathematical institute.
There he took a few moments to take in his surroundings and activated his focus to perceive the astral world.
[spoiler]
Perception Check (http://orokos.com/roll/288543): 15d6t5 3
Assensing Check (http://orokos.com/roll/288544): 8d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
Once he had spotted the ward, he concentrated to slip between the strands without damaging the barrier or the active spell on him.
[spoiler]
Press through mana barrier with edge (CHA+MAG+EDG) (http://orokos.com/roll/288546): 14d6t5 3
Press through mana barrier with edge (exploding die) (http://orokos.com/roll/288547): 1d6t5 0
Orokos doesn't seem to like me today...
Hopefully the barrier isn't to high in force...
Mundane stealth check (http://orokos.com/roll/288548): 11d6t5 4
If necessary, Isaint's coat has thermal damping capability:
Thermal damping (http://orokos.com/roll/288549): 6d6t5 1
... but it probably won't matter *sigh*
[/spoiler]
[spoiler]19[/spoiler]
-
Nonsense - was a mediocre mage but was famous in the shadows as the one that can tap into the power of very powerful spirits. That along made up for a lot of shortcomings, and indeed even when showing his full potential Solo had a special connection to the spirit world.
He figured out a spirit of Man was the most suitable for the task as it has the influence power... and when a very powerful spirit suggest that you do it most people do.
It could also wield the invisibility spell and make them completely unrecoverable except by ultrasound vision or magical vision. It is better to summon in advance, and if the Franchman will desire invisibility he could use the spirit for that. However, as Solo preferred... only play your ace when the chips are down the table.
He concentrated, there was no ritual no nonsense no intense... Instead Solo used his powerful health magic to augment his mental stats for the task. Summoning poweful spirits is a dangerous feat and the stronger they are the stronger their will. Underestimate them and the spirit world would deliver a broken nose back at you. He felt the spirit was there... a very powerful spirit of man.
"4 services" said the spirit.... "Thank you for coming great spirit... We will be brief I hope you enjoy your time with us."
To the Frenchman and Mel - "We have a spirit covering our asses, it is a spirit of man so do not expect anything combat oriented, but it can augment the speed of our car... (or the speed of us making us run at the speed of a car) make us invisible and suggest things in a way that few people can refuse... I felt it is suitable for the task at hand... We have only 4 services tough so we'll have to pick wisely... summoning these beasts is dangerous I am glad this one was summoned without many problems. "
[spoiler]
Solo has magic 7, and the spirit whisperer quality - that means that he ask for a spirit force 7 and due to some mystery the spirit world send a force 8 spirit. But the drain is still stun and it is not considered over summoning.
Before he starts he cast the improve will power spell:
improve willpower (http://orokos.com/roll/288574): 15d6t5 5
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/288575): 15d6t5 5
will power increased by 4, no drain.
then activate higher concern adept power for the summoning task, it allow him to negate the -4 modifier due to sustaining two spells.
He ask for a force 7 spirit:
summon a force 7 spirit of man (http://orokos.com/roll/288576): 17d6t5 7
spirit defense (http://orokos.com/roll/288577): 8d6t5 3
force 8 spirit replies - Solo has to resist 6 drain.
Luckily his mentals are shooting through the sky (10 intuition, 9 willpower)
drain resistance (boosted will + intuition) (http://orokos.com/roll/288578): 19d6t5 9
Solo takes no drain and the spirit owes him 4 services.
Before entering the hotel Solo plans to turn off all spells and all wireless functionality. So this is just for the legwork. I'll update when he turn off.
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
I'm gonna pull up another spirit, just to add a little punch to our group, I don't like the thought of us being drastically out numbered
Daddy walks off to the backside of Snows car and sits down before starting his summoning
[spoiler]Summoning a force 5 spirit of man, daddy has Spirit whisperer so it shows up at force 6 for reasons unknown, -2 for the sustained spellSummoning spirit of man force 5 (http://orokos.com/roll/288610): 11d6t5 6Spirit Defense (http://orokos.com/roll/288613): 5d6t5 0 6 services owed [/spoiler]
[spoiler]resist drain 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/288615): 10d6t5 3] Daddy suffers no drain in the summoning[/spoiler]
In the astral the spirit appears as a man dressed in a suit with a noose around his neck
Daddy smiles at the spirit for a moment before wiping off the sweat and standing up
damn thing kind of reminds me of when... daddy shakes his head and walks around the car to the others, spirit in tow
Common man, Head in the game, memories later Daddy stuffs his hands into his pockets and stares up into the sky
Hopefully this all goes well and everyone can pull out without much trouble
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Isaint's footsteps were just out of earshot now, and Al was watching Snow sleep and Daddy conjure.
Spike, in turn, was watching all of them, having been given an order of "guard" in the guttural hiss of Al's Tamasheq.
The short man was fingering his comm, his foredigit like an undifferentiated mass of white melted plastic topped by a scrap of yellowed nail. But it moved with the dexterity of a conjuror. The device was a Fairlight Caliban. Westwind of commlinks, they said. A bit fancier than he'd normally go for, but he'd heard the signal encryption was the best you could buy, and he'd figured if he was going to play this game then, like anything, he'd better have the right tools. Time to place some trust in her.
<<@all teams: Primary team here, folks. This bein' a flat out race an' all, we's fixin' ta jump off in roughly thirty-five from right now. Goes without sayin' we all wanna move together. Anyone don't think they kin make that window, well, figure out a way to make that window. We'll keep y'all updated an' will welcome same.>>
-
@all "hey team got your comm codes from mr j. hope thats not a problem, my handle is Duke I will be your over watch this fine evening if you have any questions you may signal to the observation tower and call me on this comm ill be covering your escape tonight please keep your hands and feet outside of my scope at all times that is where my bullets will go into pursuit vehicle engine blocks. thank you and have a nice day." Duke then heads to get in position to take up overwatch.
-
*Damn, damn, DAMN! Get it together Daniel, you are on the job now. *
Smiley was already the last one leaving the pub, what with everyone being so fired up to roll out for Oxford, but falling into the gorgeous green eyes of the pretty Irish lass that filled up his flask (after he had drained it) had really put him behind the curve. He really hoped she would meet him later as she promised *What was her name? Lana? Donna? ANNA! Spirit, those redheads are gonna be the death of him!* Smiley chuckled *…if the blonds or the brunettes don’t get him first.*
“Sho...sorry folks.” He took a second to use his Talent to get the slur out of his voice, then opened his comms and reviewed what had happened while he was out of the loop. “Sorry folks, I will be there soon.” Smiley pushed the redline everywhere he thought he could get away with it as he roared out of London.
<to Sarah and Tobbis ONLY> We need to get hot, verify what we know. If the matrix coverage is remote, then we need to own the local node, cameras, doors, the works. Once we verify that the onsite is what Art says, Sarah and I just walk in, deal with the security and get the kids. Easy peasy.
<@all team> Are we co-coordinating to start as one? Because I would think it would be easy to get the missus out of the hotel if we get the kids first and have them call mom and have her come home early. You can get the car and be done.
-
Aaron had the night off as Madezyne (mad*design) was staying in her hotel to work on a new breakfast skirt, whatever that was. In days past he'd have been the one stationed in the room next to hers, but lately she'd been favoring tall elf men with guns over orkish brutes like himself. She kept him on staff for shows and appearances, but it wasn't paying enough to keep the moneymen at bay. This Torrent fellow had promised him a solid credstick for the right kind of work, but from the comm silence he guessed that mister Torrent had 'lost' his matrix alias. Aaron considered staying in the lobby and trying to meet women at the bar, but that had never gone well for him in the past, usually ending up as an excuse to drink the night away. But there are worse excuses to drink, right?
He found an old passenger car at the rails (https://www.google.com/maps/@51.7597631,-1.2714697,522m/data=!3m1!1e3?hl=en) near the river. He used debris as targets, imagining the heads of debt collectors lined up to call in what he supposedly owed. The shots were quick and accurate, but the setup was a bit annoying. Walking to the back of the car, propping up the targets again, collecting the same five arrows over and over. Still, he was getting into his zone when suddenly his image link splashed a comm message in his field of vision. He'd forgotten he even had an image link on his hardware as he'd bought the goggles for the zoom. << Active team might need some cover. Opposing team on-site. Bring bow. [Torrent] >>
It seemed a bit brief and impersonal, leaving Aaron to wonder if Torrent even sent his own messages. He collected his arrows and slung his bow, preparing to sneak back into the urban jungle full of lights and pricks, when he suddenly realized the location was omitted. So was the nature of the job, or the contacts, or anything useful really. He had his bow at least. And of course his revolver. Was there anything else to carry really? His body armor was back at the hotel, so he hoped this wouldn't be a dangerous job. Then he realized that was probably an unrealistic thought. So he simply sat in the passenger car, rotting fabric barely present over the metal seat frame. *I hope he gave them my handle...* he idly mused. "Jackhammer". He liked the sound of the name, imagining the awe of onlookers as he demonstrated his upgraded bioware.
-
Solo replied Duke: <<Thanks for coming man, as you can probobly see the distance between the locations is minimal so keep your mobility for a quick intervention. I hope we will not need your services but it is reassuring that someone thinks about getting out. If you need a hand with anything Matrix related feel free to give me a buzz... Let us know if you manage to identify the other team or anything that seems
suspicious... a little heads up is sometimes the edge you need to get it done properly...
Again... welcome abroad.
>>
He thought to himself:
This complex 3 target extraction they obviously improvised... they are spending tons of money for their wages, for over 10 of runners? they may be spending over a million nuyen just to get this guy out. Speaking of multi million nuyen extractions thought Solo... I am almost finished paying for mine. Perhaps after this job I will be truly free.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al responded to some of the comm traffic: <<@Smiley, all: slick Idea, amigo, but two problems. First, the kids' call to mom may set off alarms - mothers kin sense when somethin's off with they young. Second, if the slightest thing goes wrong on your end, then security on the other two targets locks down tight afore we even git started. I still say we all get into position and make our plays simulateously in thirty.>>
The code tags on the incoming message from the newcomer matched the authentication in Art's packet, so <<@Duke, all: welcome welcome. Assume other team already on site; see if you can spot 'em. We will move on the primary target site in thirty. In addition to the roads, how's yer view into northwest-facing windows?>> Then he took photos of everyone but Isaint and sent to the sniper.
-
@all "I'm not on yet didn't have time to set up i'm about to check for opposition if someone can pop on over astrally and give me a head count that would help enormously will wait on either a confirmation someone checked or that noone can at this time and I'll take.it from there" pulling his garrote out and making it readily available he waits for a response.
-
Isaint had reached a side entrance and tested the ward carefully with his extended palm. The first try was discouraging: The barrier was quite tightly woven.
But first things first: The door lock seemed to be an RFID reader. Again he concentrated and called to the saints strength. With dexterous movements and the help of his electronic lock picker he opened the locks case, carefull not to set of any anti-tamper devices.
For a moment he was tempted to try to circumvent the lock himself, but he knew his limits. What use was it to work with a team of specialists if you didn't use their talents.
So he placed a Data Tap inside, connected it and closed the case again before someone could wander by and wonder over the open locking device.
<<Wake up Snow. I am at the side entrance. I left you a Data Tap inside the door lock. ID is attached to this message. If you don't mind, please work your mojo through the direct connection.>>
[spoiler=Isaint's entry point](http://i58.tinypic.com/amqm21.jpg)[/spoiler]
While the hacker did (hopefully) his work, Isaint deactivated his focus and instead took a second to concentrate to eliminate any distracting influences and tried again to find a way to slip through the ward.
[spoiler]
In case there are any mali through the environment or retry, Isaint activates Hightened Concern/Concentration for a 3 point reduction of dice penalties.
[/spoiler]
-
Duke starts to slowly scale the building keeping an eye out for any indication that he has been seen. "Hmm i'm pretty exposed out here thank goodness for this chameleon suit. I should know if someone its up there soon I'll keep an ear out as well as an eye."
-
As they depart from the car solo suggested:" please turn off wireless functionality in anything 'shadowrunny' you are carying." He turned his power focus off, and runned the wrapper program to disguise his deck as a comlink. The self augmentations spells were also more a liability than an asset at the moment, he gave them up.
He instructed his spirit to keep its distance and wait for her services.
There was somthing familiar about the spirit he summoned as if he had seen it before... (her?) why do I think it is a female form I haven't seen it. He felt warm and fuzzy inside, he haven't felt like that since... Well that was a long time ago.
Ready to mingle guys? We should atleast locate the asset before the go sign is given.
He said as they walked towards the hotel entrance.
-
Solo, we're on the same page. My reference to camera on the streets were for when we leave. The more 'normal' we look coming in, the better.
The Frenchman removed his holsters and shoved them under the seat. He wasn't going to take any chance bringing attention to them. Going in empty handed wasn't of his liking, but he'll have to make due.
At the mention of the Spirit Solo had conjured, the Frenchman felt uneasy. The 'Arts' were very foreign to him, and though he knew and respected the power they could generate, he felt it was better to stay away from the very unstable Magic and let the Awakens deal with it.
You said your spirit could influence people? Could it just 'convince' the Wife to come with us? If so let's have that as plan B in case our 'negotiation' fails.
Let's go in. Shall we?
He offered his hand once again to Mel, inviting her to follow him. Mademoiselle?
-
Solo replied: "The spirit can do so... it is a very powerful spirit so the odds of convincing her are very good. However, having a spirit materialize in a middle of a ball is a risky move... we'll have to find some prviate place to do it and we better use our mundane conversation skills first...
I have a feeling that we have plenty of social skills in this crowd.
Spirit should be used for last resort... I turned off my power focus and if I could I'd turn off being awakened right now... I will try to keep my distance from you guys unless you need my help in social skills - I am no face but I am socially skilled and can sweet talk reasonably well.
Unfortunately, me being awakened is a bit of liability as my aura is different and there is nothing I can do about it... so until you need me I keep my distance so that we are not immidiently linked if someone discover that I am awakened. "
He kept about 20 meters distance form Mel and the Frenchman and hoped that it will be over soon with no fuss. He carried no arms... but than again if it comes to that he is a mage - he is never unarmed.
-
@jackhammer "aye jackhammer was wondering if you could be my spotter at the observation tower ill lower a line once i get up here, if you arent too busy of course"
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Overhearing Isaint's request to their hacker, he went over to make sure the albino ork was awake and on the job. <<@Isaint - thinkin' when we go in as a group we take the van in via the Woodstock Road underground parking entrance. Less conspicuous, less exposed, and a lot less slow. Plus she's tricked out fer extractions like this. So once ya do what yer gon' do in there, how 'bout some o' them data taps along that route on yer way out?>>
Then the unshaven little man stuck nose up against the Americar window to see what Snow was up to.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<Roger, will do>> Isaint couldn't spare anymore words or indeed brain capacity. Getting through this ward was harder than expected...
[spoiler]
21
[/spoiler]
-
Aaron sees his commlink light up and checks the message. "Duke" wanted some cover apparently. He jammed out a quick reply.
<< [Duke] Hi Duke. Who gave you my id? >>
Aaron was new to this Shadow Running thing, but he was pretty sure you ought not just answer the first comm call that knows your nickname. After all, there was another runner team out there, and they might be clever.
Then, after a moment, he decided to go ahead and press for some more info. What could it hurt?
<< [Duke] What observation tower? >>
"Spotter" eh? Maybe it's just a recon job. he thought to himself as he pocketed his comm to take inventory: 5 arrows, a loaded Omni, and a speedloader with standard rounds; no explosive arrows or bullets; armor vest, but no body armor; no slap patches, no gas mask. But at least he had his flashlight. And, of course, his very expensive augments. Perhaps a little lean, but surely Torrent wouldn't toss him in the deep end his first time out. It was just playing backup to some recon job, almost certainly. Still, Aaron could feel himself getting a little tense.
I'll just grab a beer while I wait for details. No harm in that.
He set off north to cross the river and head east into town, trying to stay out of sight. Lots of people don't like orks, especially big ones, and carrying a bow around just makes you look like some kind of mad critter hunter. Best not to be in front of too many eyes.
[spoiler]Sneaking: (http://orokos.com/roll/289208) 12d6t5: 3 [12d6t5=2, 1, 3, 6, 2, 2, 5, 2, 5, 2, 4, 1][/spoiler]
-
"torrent gave it to me if you want ask im sure he'll tell ya the same.Also it the only observation tower ive seen in oxford but its the one near the math building. by the way bring gear we are running overwatch im set up her for potential pursuit shut down i dont want someone sneaking up on me i prefer to be the one killing silently."
-
Aaron jogged along the bridge with little cover but a strong appreciation of humans' poor night vision. Then the message hit his image link. For a moment he panicked, fearing someone might have seen or overheard. Killing? Ah man, I'm going to end up on the news... He kept jogging until he was across the bridge. The Oxford campus was within sight, but he wasn't sure exactly what to look for. He'd forgotten to notice any "observation tower"s on his way out. But from the sound of it, it would be some place high up. Duke had probably sent coordinates, but Aaron's Meta Link was already a year old and the nav on it was hit and miss. He decided not to bother, instead skulking towards the campus and keeping an eye out for something that looked like a tower for observing or, just as good, people that looked like Shadowrunners.
<< [Duke] I'll be there in 10 or so. I have a few arrows, but nothing big. Yes, arrows, like archery. Don't judge. >>
[spoiler]3[/spoiler]
-
>>No problem, 30 minutes is good.
Sarah crawled from the back of the van to the passenger seat and took another look at the house. "Back us out of sight. The guard might get suspicious if we just sit here for half an hour and nobody gets in or out. Or we need to do something to make it look like we came here for a reason. Maybe we should go out and grab a pizza or something?" she said. She went back to the back of the van and grabbed her armored jacket from where she had grabbed it on and tightened the straps till she had a snug fit. While doing this she realized what she just said to Tobies could be interpreted as and hit her head against the wall. Not that she didn't like the changeling, but she didn't know anything about him. Gaah, sometime I need to think before speaking she thought to herself. Hopefully the changeling hadn't noticed the head pounding. Jacket on she got back into the front of the van.
-
Tobbis over hears her comments, this was one of the lovely things about having devices that streamed data to you while you were in VR, you never really had to be in a position where you couldn't see things going on, or hear them.
Of course, he wouldn't ever really think anything along those lines.. rather "Well, what we could do is have me pretend to be your kid. And that we were doing something related to that here."
Slipping out of VR he sits up and pulls the Satlink out of his datawire. "In the mean while, you're right. We don't want people to see us here, though we're pretty well hidden here."
-
"Um, yeah, sure, let's do that." Sarah said, then she stared down at her armored jacket and said "And I just went to all the trouble of putting this on."
>>To: Smiley
We're heading to somewhere else for the half-hour. Be suspicious to just stay outside the house for that amount of time.
-
"Well, normal people still wear armor too. Lots of them. What would you do if someone came running in shooting bullets at you? Anycase..still don't have a plan for the watcher spirit. I think the best way is to just get the kids and get out of there. I wonder if they're watching any trios right now."
-
"Stunbolt, then if they they were really unlikeable I'd do Smiley's trick. Nothing really stops people from chasing you then threatening to release some rather embaressing photos on the Matrix." Sarah said "But my point being this is a professor's kids. So this should be an upscale part of the city right? So armor may be more conspicous here than anywhere else. But if it isn't, I'm all for not taking it off. London's cold enough already."
-
[Wednesday, June 17, 2075, Oxford, Wife Team]
Mel took the Frenchman's arm and answered "Monsieur" with an English accent, nodding at him and bending a little at the knees, a slight smile on her face. She had left both her firearm and her taser in the car, and, after having studied what other attendees were wearing, had changed the colour of her body armour to be a glittery, smoky charcoal colour, with the tightness of her second skin accentuating her curves. She wasn't looking to draw any unwanted attention, but wanted to make sure she belonged with that crowd.
[spoiler]Post count:10[/spoiler]
-
>> (to Sarah and Tobbis) Did Tobbis already lock down the house's node and verify the onsite security?? From the description this should be easy as long as we don't screw around with the astral and bring any magical security down on us.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
The ork's eyes were shut, but his body was twitching erratically. Al hauled the door open, assuming the albino was stuck in a biofeedback loop with some nasty black ice, but once he had a better view inside the car, he saw both his colleague's Hermes Ikon and Renraku Tsurugi lying forgotten on the floor.
Shit. Devil at work, plain and simple.
He gave the hacker a solid slap. "Hey there, wakey wakey. We's onna clock, boy." Al took a long pull from his beer. "Try ta act like a pro. Yer teammate's alone inna hot zone an' callin' fer a door-open."
-
Feeling himself more of a Decker than anything else Solo carefully kept his distance from Mel and the Frenchman... the two held hands and looked sort of like a couple. Frenchman and Mel and me and a spirit... one big happy family. He kept the spirit a few kilometers away in the astral, far enough not to draw attention but close enough to reach their aid within matter of seconds. While walking peacefully he found himself scanning the matrix... he was looking for devices that run silently or anything out of the ordinary. If there was another team they may make a mistake - and if they do... He will find them.
As for himself... he felt that disguising as a comlink hiding in plain sight is more apropriate as there may be hundreds of comlinks within their vicinity.
He missed the smell of the matrix in hot sim and he missed the tingling sensation of a spell augmenting his natural abilities but... these were not apropriate at the moment and he was an accomplished decker even without these tricks.
[spoiler]
Solo performs Matrix perception: (in AR)
He rolls 6 inutition + 6 skills + 2 speciality + 2 adept power = 16 dice.
Limit is 6.
Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/289408): 16d6t5 6
[16d6t5=6, 6, 2, 5, 6, 3, 4, 5, 1, 2, 6, 4, 2, 2, 2, 3]
[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage[/color - Going back in VR in Hot-Sim - reSetting up Satlink ]
Moving the car a bit further away on Sarah's request, he did a quick look through the matrix to find a back alley or so to park the car after a flinch from the pain he felt coming back in. As long as they didn't keep the doors open, turning off the lights of the car would allow them to look like, at least from a meatworld perspective, that there wasn't anyone in the car in the first place. He opened his sat link again and plugged in.
"We'll stay here for now.. I've got some work to do apparently."
To Smiley, Hallucination
<<Nobody uses nodes anymore, not ever since a few years ago when they redid the matrix.. again. Doing Hacking right now would be dangerous, as doing too much of it will alert the fuzz, nevermind the security in the local area. I'll need to make sure you guys are ready before I get seriously hacking at all. Cause if nothing else, I can use brute force, but using it a half hour later would give them too much time.>>
However that doesn't mean he can't do more base line matrix based things. And so he begins probing the house to find all the matrix icons he can get.
[spoiler]18th Post
Matrix Perception for low activity back alley (http://orokos.com/roll/289487): 11d6t5 1 11d6t5: 1 [11d6t5=4, 5, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 1, 1, 4]
Matrix Perception on the house for things (http://orokos.com/roll/289488): 11d6t5 5 11d6t5: 5 [11d6t5=2, 1, 1, 4, 5, 1, 5, 1, 5, 5, 5]
As far as noise goes, I've got a datajack on wireless (Silent of course, slaved to my commlink.) And Flensel fabric rating 3 also wireless (Silent, slaved to commlink as well)
And I'm running silent as well, and took off the hotsim thing.. but forgot to add in the technomancer bonus for perc checks.
Technobonus for Alley check. (http://orokos.com/roll/289495): 2d6t5 1 2d6t5: 1 [2d6t5=5, 1]
Technobonus for house check. (http://orokos.com/roll/289496): 2d6t5 0 2d6t5: 0 [2d6t5=1, 1]
Just wow. Four dice, 3 ones. I'm so glad that those +2 dice on the house check didn't manage to make it into a glitch. Cause that would have been redonkulous! But the dice roller so darn well tried to.
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Whats going on with snow, He alright? daddy walked up and watch Al slap the ork as Snow lay in the car
New players this late in the game, although i won't say no to help, is strange, There is a lot of cash being shelled out here, what the hell is this principle working on to warrant this kind of extraction
<<To Duke>>Heya duke, welcome to the show, Names Daddy good to be working with ya, we have one sneaking around Invisible now, and i dunno if anyone managed to send ya a snap of him, Did anyone else send you images of the rest of us?>> Love Daddy
[spoiler]Post count 18[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
"Aww, ain't nothin' wrong with this boy a good ass-whuppin' won't fix. Beetles, looks like." He pulled back an eyelid and squatted down for a better look. The ork seemed to be snapping out of it.
"I got this, you wanna go help that new feller, we'll be fine here. Hell, don't reckon you'll be gone longer'n a minute or so, which is good, cuz once Sleepy here gits that door open fer Saint, we gotta reposition these back up rides."
He resumed trying to rouse Snow Crash without subjecting him to undue indignity. But when he heard Daddy's query to Duke, he yelled over, "Yeah, done sent him our pix. Good huntin'."
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
The albino orc comes back with a jolt, the slap knocking the chip connections loose, it takes his eyes a few moments to focus on Al.
"What the fragging..." he trails off as his comlink reconnects and the backlog hits his nural interface, including the new comcodes.
He shakes his head and rubs his face. "Alright, alright I'm awake Al. I figued someone wanting to do some scouting could get past a few locks. Gimmie a sec to setup here.
With that he tahes the helmet off and gets His deck booted up and setpup for covert work, not his speciality but what had to be done needed to get done.
<Snow Crash to Isaint> [OK sorry for the delay, get that thing open for you in half a sec.]
[spoiler]Renraku Tzurugi configuration: Attack 3, Data Processing 5, Sleeze 6 +1, Firewall 5. Baby Moniter, Virtual Machine, Signal Scrub, Browse, Configurator.
Palming: remove BTL
Palming 2 + Agility 6
Palming check (http://orokos.com/roll/289736): 8d6t5 3 Hits[/spoiler]
Having setup again Snow Crash dove into the Matrix, using Hot Sim to get as much of and advantage as possible for this work. The Oxford grid filling his senses, the Hot Sim buypassing all the filters of the grid. Locating the DataTap he tries to slip a mark onto the door lock.
[spoiler]Hack on the Fly: Door Lock via Data Tap
Hacking 6 + Logic 8 + Hot Sim 2 + Device Specialization 2
Hack On The Fly (http://orokos.com/roll/289743): 18d6t5 4 Hits
Sleeze Limit 7
Wow.. :o[/spoiler]
-
@daddy "yeah i got snapshots, gimme a sec to get in position, being careful so i dont trip over someone and hurt myself"
-
<<Take your time Snow, I'm still not sure if this ward is safe to pass>>
Isaint had to supress a loud sigh. What was it they always said: The invisible mans greatest foe: The closed door.
And the clock was ticking...
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<to Duke, Cool my man, i have a few spirits on stand by so let me know if you need some spiritual assistance and im happy to oblige, Love Daddy
<<to Isaint, Hey man, don't worry about your spell timing out on ya, I'll keep you covered till i know your in the clear, If something happens let me know and i'll have the spirits run some interference for ya. Love Daddy>>
-
Climbing the rest of the way up the tower Duke looks over the ledge seeing all is clear. He starts to set up the Terracota Arms Am-47 w/ gas vent-3 and tripod.
@all"Duke is in place ill have you all covered in a sec. Call out location once op starts and if you notice pursuit ill take em out." @jackhammer"all clear up here im setting up my rifle now if you need i can lower some microwire and rap gloves to assist you in getting up here." I set up at an angle i can see most of the property with ease and be able to switch targets. after setting up Duke peers around with his vision mag and enhancement noting locations of possible pursuit, and of course an escape route to his bike.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<@Duke - glad ta have ya up there, amigo. We plan entry and exit from the underground parking entrance on Woodstock Road using this (img) van. Now, besides our exfil routes, how's yer view through the windows on that place?>>
Al spoke as he readied the vehicles, sending Spike into the van's shotgun seat with a gesture, and telling the Beamer to start up and once again follow the van. Once Snow and Daddy completed their errands for Isaint and Duke, they'd get mobile, reposition the secondary vehicles, and prepare to make entry. Hell, once Isaint had taps on the parking gates and cams, there probably wasn't any reason for him to even come out at all...
-
Solo sends a message to Duke, in CC to his teammates Frenchman, and Mel (in the wife extraction team).
<<Duke- can you send us the the view from the tower? can you see the hotel? If so where do you suggest we exit when we are hot ... (someplace where you have a clear shot ) >>
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:30, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer]:
Waiting for the off tensions build and the adrenaline begins to pump. As Isaint awaits Snow Crash’s intervention on the door lock the building suddenly goes dark from within and then relights with a dim green emergency light vaguely perceived through the translucent glass. The maglock casing goes from a small red indicator to green and the way in is open for the taking…for now. Only thing could have done this so comprehensively, a host crash, and that means the window of opportunity is severely limited before the spiders get it up and running again. It would seem the opposing team are making their move!
@Randolph Team [Mel, Solo, Frenchman]:
The place is buzzing with the rich and famous all vying to be seen spending their hard earned cash on a worthy cause. The principal guest is being spoken about in hushed whispers, a Lady deBathyre, who appears to have some kind of influence with NeoNet. It is clear that nobody knows much about her and are as surprised about this as at her apparently youthful appearance. To Solo’s brief astral glance though her influence is much less surprising as her unmasked aura clearly marks her as a drake, and one clearly powerful enough that she doesn’t feel the need to hide her nature from those with the skill to see! So one of Celedyr’s minions is here whilst a team working for NeoNet is performing a high profile extraction at the institute?!?
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination]:
After relocating to a parking bay in Charlbury Road, just north east of the target to have a quieter jump point it is rather disconcerting to have a car turn into the same small road and pull in behind you, the headlights stabbing through the tinted glass of your vehicle. The windows are cranked slightly and you can hear the blaring troll thrash music from here…bloody teenagers! A laughing kid sprints towards you and hurls himself into the vehicle and it peels away…
-
[spoiler]
Ward Counter Roll (http://orokos.com/roll/290413): 12d6t5 6 [12d6t5=6, 3, 5, 3, 2, 6, 6, 2, 6, 2, 4, 6]
No dice.
On to a final try:
Magic+Charisma -1 (-4 moderated by hightened concern)l (http://orokos.com/roll/290417): 8d6t5 2 [8d6t5=1, 6, 2, 4, 3, 5, 4, 3]
Ward Counter Roll (http://orokos.com/roll/290414): 12d6t5 2 [12d6t5=5, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 4, 4, 4, 2, 2, 4]
Motherf*****!
Ok, spending edge for reroll
Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/290490): 6d6t5 3
Edge: 3/5
Finally, through the ward with intact spell...
For the door locks - since I established a direct connection there shouldn't be more than 6 dice:
Door Lock (http://orokos.com/roll/290499): 6d6t5 2
So the hacker opens it.
If you have planned something else, I'll edit the post :)
Update while I wrote.
So now a perception check instead:
Perception (Listening w/ sound enhancers) (http://orokos.com/roll/290510): 16d6t5 2 [16d6t5=4, 2, 6, 1, 3, 4, 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 2, 3, 4, 1, 6]
Yepp. Orokos wants me dead...
[/spoiler]
'Patience. There has to be a way.' Isaint felt how he was repulsed a second time by the ward.
One last time he concentrated despite feeling how his impatience eroded his aura and just made it harder. Time for a prayer:
"Saint Christopherus, please help a poor sinner on his travels through peril and danger..."
And just like that he found the way inside the ward. Just in time the whole building lost power and the door opened
'What the...'
<<@Prime team: Snow: Please tell me you did just shut down the whole building, if not, we got a problem. In that case this just became a race. I won't tamper with the garage but instead try to find the Doctor and pull him somewhere safe before the opposition gets here.>>
With that Isaint went into the building, while cranking up his sound enhancement.
<<@ all: I need to know asap where the target is. I'm heading for the first storey. That's second floor for you Americans.>>
-
<< [Duke] Microwire scares me. I'll do it the old fashioned way. >> Aaron responds on his comm as he spots what is probably the tower in question. He makes his way over, wary of prying eyes.
[spoiler]Perception: (http://orokos.com/roll/290409) [9d6t5=5, 5, 2, 1, 2, 2, 6, 5, 3] 4[/spoiler]
Once he's convinced no one is looking, he begins to climb.
[spoiler]Climb: (http://orokos.com/roll/290453) [3d6t5=4, 6, 4] 1
Climb: (http://orokos.com/roll/290454) [3d6t5=6, 2, 6] 2 first ledge clear
Climb: (http://orokos.com/roll/290455) [3d6t5=4, 4, 2] 0 no progress
Climb: (http://orokos.com/roll/290459) [3d6t5=2, 3, 2] 0 no progress
Climb: (http://orokos.com/roll/290460) [3d6t5=3, 2, 5] 1
Climb: (http://orokos.com/roll/290461) [3d6t5=4, 2, 5] 1 second ledge clear[/spoiler]
Aaron makes it to the roof of the 2nd floor before noticing the lights go down in the building next to him. He pulls out his comm and fires off a message.
<< [Duke] Are we making a move? What exits should I cover? And... is there someone I'm supposed to shoot? >>
-
While Scanning the matrix Solo recieve the message from the main team... look like we are behind schedule he thinks.
He texts Mel and Frenchman... << From the feel of it, we move now... can anyone spot Rachel? >>
He looks around and tries to actively find her, while disguisng his active search with his knowledge of etiqutte. If there is one person he tries to avoid it is that awakened drake. Unlike the others that take great intrest in her he does his best not to form eye contact so she don't look at him. Solo understands that when Magic is concerned he has a lot to learn and he is no match for the really skilled in the art.
[spoiler]
Not doing anything obvious... hide what he really is doing with plesentaries and casual conversations.
Etiquette (http://orokos.com/roll/290570): 11d6t5 5
Actively look for Rachel (not impressive but perheaps will work).
Looking for Rachel (http://orokos.com/roll/290567): 15d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
He then ads just in case. It seems like it is high time to grab and flee... How did they planned to flee the scene? he had one funny idea that involved a spirit and running at over 100 km/h.
<<Duke... + new guy? - I haven't caught the name yet)...
It seems like somthing is happening - if you look at the hotel let us know if someone that looks like the wife is leaving the hotel... the interesting stuff is often where you do not look.>>
-
@JackHammerif you are on the tower look around for targets, Im thinking the other team is making there move this just became a race.also might want to talk to the matrix guy i think his name is snowcrash or something here is his code*snow code*
[spoiler]OOCperception:hotel 12d6: 43 [12d6=1, 6, 5, 4, 3, 1, 3, 3, 5, 2, 5, 5] (5 successes) perception:exit route for main extraction 12d6: 51 [12d6=5, 6, 2, 5, 4, 6, 5, 6, 6, 4, 1, 1] (7 successes) with the checks what is my view of the windows. morokos is liking me right now. [/spoiler]
@all*panoramic view of what i can see from my vantage point* ok guys lets move if you can call out potential threats ill assess and take em out.
i go into a kneeling position so if i need to change vantage points i can do so readily (tripod up).
-
Aaron nods as he gets his message from Duke. He tries this "snowcrash" fellow to see what's up.
<< [Snow] This is Jackhammer, new guy to the team and this whole "running" thing. I'm with Duke and I understand things are tight right now. Have any details or instructions for me? >>
-
The slender elf was trying to mingle with the guests but in a way not to draw too much unwanted attention to herself. When she read her incoming messages, she tried to spot her target without looking too suspicious.
[spoiler]First is the etiquette roll. Etiquette 〜 Charisma 6 + Influence 4 + First Impression 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/290714): 12d6t5 3 Results 12d6t5: 3 [12d6t5=1, 2, 4, 1, 6, 4, 5, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5]
No glitches, social limit of 6.
After, perception roll. Perception 〜 Intuition 5 + Perception 6 + Visual 2 + Hawk Eye 1 + Vision Enhancement 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/290711): 17d6t5 7 Results 17d6t5: 7 [17d6t5=6, 2, 1, 1, 2, 4, 6, 4, 6, 3, 1, 5, 3, 6, 4, 5, 6] No glitches, mental limit of 7.[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<@Prime team: Snow: Please tell me you did just shut down the whole building, if not, we got a problem. In that case this just became a race. I won't tamper with the garage but instead try to find the Doctor and pull him somewhere safe before the opposition gets here.>>
<<Kemo sabe, it done been a race. Only thing different now is we know we's losin'.>>
<<@ all: I need to know asap where the target is. I'm heading for the first storey. That's second floor for you Americans.>>
<<Snow said his office is in the southwest buildin' onna fourth floor. That's third fer you limeys. Stay in touch, we's comin' ta git ya. We'll link up or else at least distract the sons o' bitches, or more'n likely both.>>
He shut down the Beamer, hauled the back doors of the van open and yelled, "Ever'body in, other rides stayin' here, we move now."
Approaching Daddy, he gave the mage a nudge. "Scoutin's done, amigo, time ta mount up."
Then, as he climbed behind the wheel of the van, he called Duke: <<We goin' in now. Need countersnipin' over our entry point. Watch fer anything from that pub across the street, new guy kin help ya spot.>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Snow was standing before the host of the Mathematics Institute, he could see the datatap backdooring access to the Maglock and was slipping bits of code in when it suddenly disappeared... not just the lock, but the entire host! He quickly shoots a message to the entire primary team, the DNI and hotsim letting anyone receiving with simsense know just how rattled the orc decker is.
<Snow Crash to primary extraction team> [That was not me chummers, looks like the other extraction team just crashed the entire host server fragging hell I am so fragging glad I was not in that thing, or I'd have flat lined, fraggit! First Crash 2.0 and now fragging this! It's go time people, and I mean NOW! Anyone boots on the ground, make a run for the door and join Isaint. I've pinged the location of out mark's office, Southwest building, 3rd floor, yes that's British 3rd floor. *A red ping mark pulses in the building layout plan they have been using*. Isaint, do you want me boots on the ground? Or remain here in the Matrix? Either way Al, if you're driving to the extraction point here's access to my car's autopilot *Extends 3 marks from his Ford Americar to Al's comlink* Overwatch team, can you spot anyone else moving into the building? I know you can't see every entrance but you might get lucky.]
Before even waiting for a reply he sends another short message and make a matrix search for the opposing team, knowing full well without any real information to go on it's an almost futile task, but hotsimmed as he is will take almost no time.
<Snow Crash to all teams> [It's go time people, the other extraction team on the primary has made their move. Be on your toes, they crashed the Maths Institute's host completely so they've either got good connections, a supernova-hot decker or they've been planning this a lot longer than we have.]
[spoiler]Matrix perception check. Searching for hidden comlinks, cyberdecks and RCCs.
Computer 6 + Intuition 5 + Perceptive 1 + Hot Sim 2 - Running Silent 2
Matrix Perception test (http://orokos.com/roll/290739): 12d6t5 5 hits
Data Processing limit 5[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Well this certainly makes things more interesting with a nod to Al daddy pulls his ballistic mask down I'm Gonna back up saint
<<Isaint, I'm gonna keep the spell going until we actually have to tangle with the enemy team, I'm gonna join you to provide magical support Love Daddy>>
[spoiler]force 2 improved invisability
Results 11d6t5: 4 [11d6t5=3, 5, 5, 6, 4, 3, 4, 2, 3, 2, 6]
[/spoiler]
[spoiler]Resist drain,
Results 10d6t5: 6 [10d6t5=5, 2, 5, 3, 3, 6, 4, 5, 5, 6]][/spoiler]
Daddy looks to the hanged spirit of man before hissing at him
Spirit, conceal me from prying eyes, until i say otherwise
[spoiler]1 service used, concealment power, magic 6[/spoiler]
With that daddy takes a peek in the astral to see what he can see before dashing across the open area, occasionally panning his head left and right looking for any other signs of movement, He will stop on just beside the door that Isaint just went through
<<To Duke, you seen anything on the other team?, Love Daddy>>
-
@daddy"I'm looking daddy im looking. like i said you see hostiles call em out and ill knock em down if i can get sight on em."
-
The half hour had passed in relative silence as Sarah mentally prepared herself, meditating out the half-hour. "It's time. Let's get this started." she said when the time came.
-
Isaint practically flew up the steps.
<<@Snow: Acknowledged. If you can guarantee that our ride will be there when we go out, you are welcome. But maybe you want to stay in hotsim and keep an eye out for any drones the opposition might send - not to mention the spiders that will descent on the downed host.
@Daddy: Good. Take care not to trip the ward. We don't want magical corp sec here - at least not for now.
@Duke&Jackhammer: Welcome to the team. My gut tells me that they will approach through the garage now that the host is down. Expect some heavy artillery. Someone who takes out a host most likely has other heavy hitters.
@Al: Same as for Daddy: I left the door open for you. Try to secure the stairs down to the basement. Stun grenades are fair game.>>
[spoiler]
Invest one Karma in Leadership to support Daddy passing through the ward:
Leadership (http://orokos.com/roll/290842): 4d6t5 0 [4d6t5=1, 4, 1, 4]
Yeah, well. it's no glitch yet. Probably should work on that...
24
[/spoiler]
-
The chatter the Frenchman was hearing wasn't good but he let his new teammates handle the arising issues. There was little him and Mel could do at this time outside of speeding up with the extraction. There was no time to waste.
Negative. Do you have a visual? And who's the Lady getting all the attention?
The Frenchman was keeping an eye on the crowd trying to identify the Wife but his full attention was elsewhere. Through brief inhaling he let the scents in the room fill up his sophisticated olfactory system. As the various scents were being analyzed he focused on detecting the familiar and distinctive one of firearm and bullets. He was trying to pinpoint the armed people and analyze their positioning in the room.
[spoiler]Detection of Firearms via Olfactory Boosters (http://orokos.com/roll/290879): 19d6t5 9
Looking for Rachel the Wife (http://orokos.com/roll/290880): 11d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Spirit, begon until i call upon thee once more daddy whispered before gritting his teeth and attempting to slip through the barrier, Slipping his sight into the astral and looking closer at the hazy wall before attempting to find his way through
[spoiler]press through mana barrier, using edge (Cha+mag+edg)
Results 13d6t5: 5 [13d6t5=5, 5, 1, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 1, 4, 6, 6, 2]
exploding die3d6t5: 0 [3d6t5=1, 1, 1], well thats lovely [/spoiler]
With a breath daddy looked back at the wall, wiping some sweat from his head Damn, I really hope we are as slick as we think getting past that
<<Isaint, I'm in following the markers on the map and bringing up your 6>>
Daddy quickly made his way up of the stairs indicated by his map as quietly as he could
[spoiler]Stealth Stealth (http://orokos.com/roll/290970): 8d6t5 5
Results 8d6t5: 5 [8d6t5=6, 5, 4, 1, 6, 6, 6, 2[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:30, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer]:
Well it’s all happening now! Isaint can hear the quiet hum of a cleaner drone as it winds its way through the atrium spaces – apparently it isn’t taking direct control from the host. Checking with the AR map display he can see that he will need to cross the central link to get to the southwest building and it’s awfully exposed, thankfully the invisibility spell is still cloaking him… Daddy and Al can be heard coming in behind now that the sec systems have been disabled along with the host.
From their vantage points on the Observatory Jackhammer and Duke have a clear view of the north side of the institute and the garage entry point and unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, there seems to be little action here…
From Snow’s location in the matrix he gets a clear view into the institute and the small number of active wireless devices inside. Also, almost as expected, he briefly gets a view of a number of hidden icons that have no business being there before a blanket of noise does its best to jam the airwaves…fraggers are already inside! They must have been there from before you lot arrived!
@Randolph Team [Mel, Solo, Frenchman]:
There, your target comes into view at one end of the palatial ball room talking quietly with a number of her fellow guests. The decadence in this place is almost appalling and the sooner you can be clear of it the better, particularly with the situation developing to the north of you…the Frenchman’s senses are particularly assailed with the fragrances of the bodies, the copious amounts of alcohol, but very little that might indicate an armed presence…
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination]:
Tobis’ digital claws easily track the location of the small host in the residence and a number of ‘links matching the known number of people in the house…but one of them is moving and triangulation puts it somewhere outside the perimeter of the property. From the speed its moving it will shortly be out of easy tracking range…speeding south, towards the centre of town…
***
#7
-
Here she is! Thought Solo...
With a few subtle AR movements he typed.
<<Mel ,Frenchman... My spirit is ready if deplomacy fails... get her to swap clothes with Mel... and lets depart... Frenchman... You seem strong so lets keep it simple if we are discovered grab the wife and run... with some magic you are as fast as a car. Just keep yourself on artificial surfaces. I will slow them down with Mel but I hope we get a clean getaway...>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al watched Daddy disappear (literally) as he ran off on foot. Starting the van up, an offhand glance at his windscreen heads-up reminded him of he vehicle elevator accessing the car park. Shit. Power down didn't just disable locks, it killed hydraulics.
This sort of crap was why he didn't believe in even bothering with plans.
He grabbed his Remmie 950, his builder's ruck, and his go-bang go-bag, then told Spike to watch the van and locked the dog inside.
In his Ford, Snow was dead the world - the real world, anyway. Al had his microtransceiver slaved to his Fairlight, and he spoke into the mic on his collar: <<Snow baby, ya stay or come with, yer call. Me, I don't reckon these chumps got a decker at all - if they did they'd'a been able to play that buildin' a whole lot quieter than jist pullin' the damned plug, which I can name five or six ways I could do myself jist off'n the top o' my head. Reckon yer more useful inna meat, but up to you, amigo.>>
And he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him for the math shack, prayin' to the voodoo gods that that boy Duke was doin' his job.
Once he was through the door, he acknowledged Isaint's order about the basement access: <<Little change o' plan, actually. With the vehicle elevator down, we's hoofin' it on outta here. Basement's outta the equation. Reckon I'll follow ya on up, maybe keep a bit o' distance though.>>
And with that he took a path not quite through the middle of the atrium lobby, conscious that - unlike his teammates - he was not in fact invisible. That could probably be arranged by his voodoo patrons, but he needed to save his strength.
Moving for the stairs through the dim glow of the emergency lighting, he realized this place was a nightmare - there were a million spots a person could hit you from, what with all the glass and open spaces, elevated walkways and weird structural angles. A glance at the exterior glass told him it was probably one-way. As he moved up the stairs toward the fourth floor, he spoke to Duke: <<Things go to hell in here, I'll try to break out some of this glass exterior, give you a line of sight ta support us in here.>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Isaint had reached the 3rd level when he heard Al's answer:
<<Doesn't mean they aren't hiding in the basement, just waiting to swarm up like a bunch of cockroaches. But do as you see fit, as long as you have a safe firing position>>
He took a moment to orient himself. Well, time to gear up: He took out the mask and fit it over his glasses. The SecureTec protectors were already in place as well as the forearm guards. His Fairlight told him that massive noise had started to polute the airwaves. Well, that was a game two could play:
<<@Primary Extraction Team: I'm activating my area jammer now, please find attached the exemption codes for your gear. Also don't worry: My coat has fresnel upgrades, that should be enough to punch through enemy jamming. If nothing else works, use microtranceivers. I'll leave a pair under the little bonsai by the stairs on level 3.>>
After he had done as he had said, he again run in the direction, Al and Snow had given him.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<Copy on the codes, and moving my micros to your designated freq - the ones under the tree are your'n Daddy-o.>>
Topping the flight on the second level up, Al realized he was out of breath and lit a cigarette. Allowed himself three puffs and then dropped it so that it fell all the way down to ground level - couldn't make it too easy for them.
Isaint was right - he didn't know where the other two were, and couldn't see them. He'd do better to provide an interior overwatch.
<<Ahmina set up here on level 2, put eyes on the basement entrance an' on a couple of the stairways in this damned maze.>>
Looking around, it was easy to find a position with some protection overlooking the atrium, the door to the basement, and a few of the myriad stairways. But it was conversely impossible to find anywhere he couldn't likewise be shot at from a dozen angles…he looked, listened, and thought about what he'd said to Duke earlier.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team
Snow Crash's digital persona grins in triumph for a moment before it's suddenly cut off with a snarl.
<Snow Crash to primary extraction team> [Alright, I got good news, bad news, and worse news. The good news is I got a glimpse of the other extraction team's icons. The bad news is they're already inside. The worse news is they're jamming me so I can't do much ATM. I'm going to remain hidden here in the Matrix and try and pinpoint their jammer, with a bit of a push I might be able to locate and trash it.]
Taking the jammer authorization key from Isaint he hangs around near Al, although he'll need everything he can to locate a jammer he keeps hidden so as to try and not reveal his presence.
[spoiler]Matrix Perception: Locate source of jamming signal, secondary info looking for what grid it is running on.
Computers 6 + intuition 5 + Perceptive 1 + Hot Sim 2 - Running Silent 2
Noise: Datajack Wireless bonus -1, Signal Scrubber program -2
Searching for Jammer (http://orokos.com/roll/291285): 12d6t5 5 hits
Data Processing limit 5[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim
To Smiley, Hallucenation << Alright I have movement, Something has recently just left manor is heading south. Do you think one of you two can check it? I currently do not see too much of anything else in the manor, If the two kids are in there, then we'll go after them and it will be a lot easier than breaking into the manor. Good things come to those who wait after all.>>
To All <<Be Advised that we've currently got movement from the manor heading south that has left just before we started to move in. It may be our target, or may be additional security for one of the two down there>>
[spoiler]19th Post
We'll do a matrix perception on the thing leaving to collect the information on it.
Matrix Percpetion thing going south (http://orokos.com/roll/291296): 13d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team
Daddy stopped by the bonsei and grabbed one of the microtranscivers before keying in the proper codes
<<To Al>> I'm gonna leave one of my spirits with you in case we are too far away to be of use, you got three wishes with my hound my man, Love Daddy>>
Come My hound, Serve this man as you would me as a gaunt, wicked looking hound appeared and Daddy gestured to Al at the top of the second flight
[spoiler]1 service used[/spoiler]
With that daddy continued after Saint << to Isaint, Have you seen any traces of auras or magic on your way up yet? if they've been here at least as long as we have and if they have a mage there's going to be some kind of magic residue left behind, Since your on point let me know if you get anything so i be ready, Love Daddy>>
-
Smiley walked over to the van when he saw the message. "I do my tracking in the woods bro, you're the one best equipped to do signal tracking. Me? I am heading up to the front door. "
Smiley throws a C'mon head nod and cocked an eyebrow to Hallucination as he walks straight up to the entryway, gradually allowing a familiar stumble to incorporate it self into his walk. He performs a drunken act for any watchers from the building as he knocks at different places and finally rings whatever bell is available.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Manor in his Jackrabbit with Sarah - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim
To Smiley, Hallucenation << Fine then. Take a micro camera on the Dashboard both of you, and Hallucination assist Smiley with the house. I'll go after the signal I'm getting but I can still help with some matrix stuff here. >>
He honestly thought they could just kinda go on the road, especially if they could do astral travel. But if they needed him to do it, he would.
Once The two either took or declined to take a microcamera and got out, he'd soon begin to leave to chase down the signal.
[spoiler]20th Post
So far Solo has a camera
[/spoiler]
-
Solo adds: <<Frenchman, Mel - About the lady... she is a drake associated with neonet... I am trying my best to not to make direct eye contact or to attract attention... She is way out of my league with magic>>
-
<<@Daddy: Sorry no, to busy running. Don't want to crash into furniture>>
What Isaint didn't transmit was, that he was keenly aware how limited his abilities with astral perception was. He had picked it up mainly to have an alternative to the ultrasound sensor so he could see through thermal smoke. Just another thing to invest a bit more learning time.
He reached the end of the corridor and slowed down to check again his map. Now, he needed to get the target to trust him while staying invisible.
He mentally shrugged. He'd cross that bridge when he got there.
With steady, silent steps he moved toward the door listening for any betraying sounds.
[spoiler]
Stealth (http://orokos.com/roll/291475): 11d6t5 5 [11d6t5=2, 6, 2, 4, 5, 2, 6, 6, 5, 2, 4]
Perception (Listen w/ enhancement) (http://orokos.com/roll/291476): 16d6t5 2 [16d6t5=1, 3, 5, 1, 3, 1, 3, 4, 1, 4, 3, 2, 4, 1, 5, 1]
26
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Well, Al reflected as he scanned for hostiles from his makeshift hide, if that boy is gonna stay in computer-land, his meat's gon' to need some back-up.
He checked some local maps and then accessed the crap autopilot on Snow's Americar and entered some rudimentary commands: secure doors, tint windows, proceed to Radcliffe Observatory, go into park-search mode and hover until legal space located at west end of observatory, park and make payment. He gave the car some cred.
Double-checking to make sure his own commlink wasn't showing any IDs at all (wouldn't want some opfor wiseguy to grab is ID and then find his cars), he called the tower crew: <<Duke, Jack, sending a Ford Americar (img; veh reg) right over under yer noses. Got our matrix cover in it, so keep it safe.>>
Then he got Daddy's message and waved up at the mage. The spirit's canine form suited Al just fine, doing much to take the edge off his usual loathing of anything not of this earth, but dammit - was that jealous bitch sending him a message again? Well, she was going to have to learn to share.
<<Muchos gracias, amigo. Stay frosty up there.>> he sent by way of thanks.
Looking at the spirit, he thought of telling it to get safe out of sight, but worried that would cost one of his three wishes. Instead he just asked, "Okay pooch, what should ol' Al call ya?"
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Wife Extraction Team
Hoping that Mel and the Frenchman are going to follow Solo steps in and introduces himself to the wife and her friends...
"The name is Bergman... " He say... but than ads in an informal voice - ...but you can call me Tom... He politely do a casual chat with her friends... He is like a fish in water as he really was a senior cooperate man and have been to many such events in the past. When the song changes he suddenly say... "Now this one I really like... care dance with me, Rachel...?" he extends his hand. If she dances with him, he'll explain the plan whispering as they dance close together. When the song is over, he'll send her to exchange clothes with Mel. In order to start her extraction - that is providing she is willing to go peacefully.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Wife Extraction Team
The spirit hound settles quietly to the ground, curling up almost like it was getting ready to take a nap before looking to al and in a surprisingly feminine voice
I am called Seras
Daddy followed saint , keeping quiet and low as they made thier way to the marks office
<<To All, I don't like this, It is way to quiet here, No movement, no magic, why crash a place like this and not Immediately make a move on the Target?, Snow said they are here, But where the hell are they if they have the same target>>
Daddy ran his fingers over his necklace and flexed his fingers as he took up post to one side of the marks office door and continued to scan the hallways looking for any sign of well anyone
[spoiler] Perception (visual enhancement 2, skill 3, int 4) (http://orokos.com/roll/291553): 9d6t5 3 9d6t5: 3 [9d6t5=3, 2, 5, 5, 6, 2, 3, 1, 4] [/spoiler]
[spoiler]Post count 22[/spoiler]
-
Aaron looked around for Duke, knowing he was up here somewhere. Once found, he unslung his bow and leaned against the wall, drawing an arrow and using his image magnification to look around the premises.
<< [Duke, Isaint, Daddy] I'm in position with Duke. Eyes on this side, but the whole southeast is a blind spot. I hope you're not planning anything on that side. >>
[spoiler]6[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
"Seras, huh. New one on me. Well, ol' Al's pleased ta meetcha." Thing didn't seem so bad for a spawn of Satan. The female voice helped.
He stopped himself stretching a burn-ravaged hand out to scratch it, reminding himself it was only pretending to be a real dog. Hell, looking at it closely, he wasn't entirely sure if it was even solid or not.
Responding to Jackhammer, he rasped quietly into his subvocal mic: <<Southeast is shore 'nuff where we went in, but we was gon' go out the northeast an' run north past ya on Woodstock. Now, though, I got me a feeling this is gon' go from SNAFU ta TARFU an' on up the scale in short order. Hades only knows where we gon' go out, but this place bein' made o' glass an' all, well, let's jist say we got lotsa options. Don't you worry none, we know which side y'all're at.>>
-
[Smiley -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Manor - Kid Extraction team ]
Smiley took the cam, when he reaches the the little courtyard, he began a drunken whisper that was a little louder than a normal voice, "NATTIE! Where you at girl? I thought you were gonna be at the hardy-party, partying hard. We came to break you out, let's get crackin' girl! NATTIE!" He allows his long black hair to fall over his face to obscure his features and his talent to affect a slightly higher teenage voice.
At the front door, he palm slap knocks and continues calling for Natasha, occasionally leaning on the doorbell.
-
Nodding towards Jackhammer "how ya doin man? guess we just get to sit and wait til something shows up.
@all "okay guys if you need to get out quick blow a window and head towards us we will cover ya.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Rifle ready, Al was dutifully scanning above and below for any sign of the other team when they found him first.
He should have concentrated more on above.
Hearing something, he ducked and heard two near-simultaneous impacts on the sofa behind him while something else thwacked him on the forearm, and he watched it spark and sizzle on the surface of the old leather jacket. Those fellers at Victor's Vintage & Venlar had done real good.
Seeing no reaction at all from the big dog thing, he said, "Well don't jist lie there, git inna fight."
And following his own advice, he hunkered against the glass sheet affixed to the stainless steel railing and shot at the first bad guy he saw.
-
Sarah stood a littles ways back from where Smiley was, getting ready to put there plan into action. She had grabbed a micrcam from Tobbis, and now had it pointed towards the house. "Where is he?" she muttered under her breath. The guard would have to confront Smiley at some point, which would be her cue to blast him with a stunbolt and get the party started.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Manor in his Jackrabbit - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim Leaveing Silent Mode
<< To Smiley and Hallucination - At the Moment the girl's commlink is off. And the one moving south is neither of the kids, however if one of them is in the car, we'll lose them for sure. Does the name Patrick Fraser mean anything to you. Oh and I almost forgot, in my glove compartment is a data tap, I'll need you to hook that in while I chase down the one going south.>>
He takes a mental note to get tracking device rounds so he doesn't have to do this crap again later.
[spoiler]21th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
MPerception again, Triagnlating to see if there is a guard coming to the door.. (http://orokos.com/roll/291838): 15d6t5 7 15d6t5: 7 [15d6t5=5, 4, 3, 5, 4, 1, 6, 3, 2, 3, 3, 6, 5, 5, 6]
I'm using the position of Smiley's commlink, Hal's commlink and the camera in her hand as well as my own position from them to try and see if there is a commlink signal moving to the door of the manor.
[/spoiler]
-
"Well don't jist lie there, git inna fight."
With those words from Al Seras growled and flew up through over the railing and started to materialize, a deep growl rumbling through the air as the spirit readied herself for battle
"Frag" Daddy stumbles as the ghostly woman grabs his helmet causing him to stumble just as the gunfire opens up
Begon you useless wench daddy curses at the spirit as he stumbles to the side, Looking for any kind of cover to put between the gun and him, gritting his teeth as he feels several rounds catch his jacket
Saint! Dropping spell He sends quickly as what looks like something black begins to ooze from his mouth and sickly light starts to leak from daddy
-
<<To: Garr, Smiley No idea who that is, just keep on trailing the one heading south. Smiley, can you see any signs that there's anybody in the house or that the guard is near?Garr, are you finsihed with the Matrix security in the house? If so, can you trail the car? Also, any word from the other teams on how things their end is going? >>
Sarah was starting to get worried. Had the other extraction teams already gotten the kids? If so, this could easily turn upside down on them, and fast. She toyed with the data tap she had gotten from Garr before putting it in her pocket for now.She hoped for the best as the seconds seemed to slow down to eterneties as she sent the message.
[spoiler]Post Count: 18[spoiler]
-
<<Drake or Drek? You shouldn't insult a Lady, you know.>>
The Frenchman subtly walked toward where Rachel was, and joined the conversation.
<<Take it slow, buddy. You just stole me a dance with the Lady>>
He trusted Solo would do what he had to do though. Standing back was also a good way to analyze the situation. He looked at the Woman Solo called a Drake. He felt he should but he had no idea what a Drake actually was, maybe some magic terminology. Or his knowledge was buried like most other subjects. He didn't care much wether their eyes would cross however. If so, The Frenchman sent her his most charming smile.
-
"Shit."
Isaint received the message just in time to throw himself into the relative cover of the stair railing. He had no idea where the opposition was or how many there where. With trained precision he brought the rifle up and looked around for the rival team.
Having the invisibility dropped now was in his opinion a mistake. But daddy needed his concentration probably elsewhere...
[spoiler]27[/spoiler]
-
<<Some supreme magical entity... probobly a lot more powerful than you and I... If she does not look at me she does not see me as awakened and it is for the best considering that she might have the same job as us>> Solo thinks to himself... I did good, I bet Frenchman has senses a lot sharper than my own... my normal range of senses is nothing compared to that of the augmented, and as Frenchman did not indicate about himself that he is a decker or a mage... it does not take a background check to determine that he was indeed augmented. If someone can keep them alive with so many distractions it is him.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:30, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer]:
It’s not surprising given the foreknowledge available to the runners but it is nevertheless shocking when the opposing runners open up on them from three separate locations around the top floor atrium balcony…it’s almost as if this place has been designed to provide the perfect ambush opportunities with the solid balcony edges providing ample cover from below, but limited help when being fired on from above…
Isaint, now all too visible, is targeted by a runner from cover near the head of the atrium stairs. From the bulk of him he is likely also an orc, dressed in ‘runner black’ and wielding a sound suppressed assault rifle. A second figure sets up a vicious cross fire from Isaint’s right making seeking cover particularly difficult…
The rounds raining down on Al come from a barely seen figure to the southeast side of the atrium, cloaked in some kind of chameleon suit…
***
#8
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
'Nice of them to use non-lethal. Only fair to reciprocate.'
"St. George lend me strength"
[spoiler]
Agility-Boost: Agility Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/292241): 7d6t5 0 [7d6t5=3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 4, 3]
Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/292242): 10d6t5 1 [10d6t5=1, 6, 4, 2, 1, 4, 3, 4, 1, 2]
Well, that could have gone better.
Simple Action: Shoot the Ork: Low Light Vision, Smartlink, Thermovision, Hawkeye (Probably irrelevant with a rifle at those distances), Vitals (+2DV -4 Dice) Gel Ammo: 13S AP -2
Shoot the Ork (http://orokos.com/roll/292243): 10d6t5 6 [10d6t5=6, 4, 5, 1, 4, 6, 2, 6, 5, 5]
New Ini: 23
[/spoiler]
For a horrible moment, Isaint felt nothing. No connection, no protection. Yet he had to act. Resolved he moved the rifle until the holo-cross hair had the Ork's head inside. He pulled the trigger and didn't wait for the answer.
Instead he moved towards the stairs to get at least a semblance of cover.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
There she was, sporting some sort of high-tech gizmo ninja duds.
Zeroing in, Al's gravel voice crunched softly into his lapel mic: <<Contact. Target top level.>>
Then he squeezed the trigger, sending a tungsten carbide penetrator gift-wrapped in a thirty-ought-six cupronickel jacket winging towards her forehead.
Or at least where he'd thought her forehead was.
Ducking out of the way of her return fire, he started his voodoo chant then popped back up and took his time with the next one...
-
*A drake?* thought Mel. *This evening just got a lot more interesting.* The elven woman tucked that bit of information away, but got to thinking about what they would have to do if this new player wanted to interfere with their plans.
Mel presented her hand to the Frenchman and asked him "How about a dance?" She would use the opportunity the dance would offer her to look around the room from different angles and spot any escape routes they could eventually need should they be forced to flee.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
The blackish drool becomes a full torrent as daddy spews acid up onto the wall thats about level with the balcony
<<All. Targets, fourth floor, Trying to take knock a hole in the wall to give a clear shot, Look for light smoke>>
Daddy dove close to the banister before looking for his next target, words already starting to slide from his mouth along with a blackish looking bile
-
@daddy"roger awaiting opening as soon as I get one I'll lay em out. Changing positions to provide best line of sight to said area he then goes prone an d holds to the sight."Shepards we shall be"
-
The Frenchman was a little surprised at Mel's request but after a split second of reflection was more than happy to oblige.
It would give him a good opportunity to observe what was going on with Solo and Rachel, and more so, try to spot the body guards. Did Mel had the same idea or was just dying to dance with him?
He grabbed her hand and gently swirled her into his arms. Try not to enjoy it too much, ma belle, we still have a damsel to steal. he whispered in her ear, an amused grin on his face.
They arrived appearing as a couple, at least they were looking the part. Having the Elf in his arm was quite a treat though. Her skinny body was ripped, every muscle worked up to its full potential. He could feel her grace and agility in every step they were taking. Sure she was stunning to look at, but that wasn't the first pretty elf he has seen. But now that they were in a more intimate position and hold, he felt how she was way more than just the look. The Frenchman suddenly felt regret he had to look away, they couldn't afford to delay more that mission though.
<<Let's do this.>> he sent a mental text message to Solo, hoping he would be able to convince Rachel to simply go with the plan.
-
Solo held Rachel firmly and led the dance. He enjoyed the feeling of her warm body close to him... that genius mathematician is a lucky man he thought to himself as they shared their dance.
Once he received the message from Frenchman he knew that they are ready to handle a refusal as well... "I am here for the relocation requested by your husband... " he said... "We should leave now before it get dangerous we are also taking your husband and the kids..." he added.
Feeling her body stiffens, Solo reassures her... "It will be alright... we know what we are doing. just keep dancing and smile..."... after a short while he adds: "It is safer for you and the kids if you follows us willingly... increase the chance of avoiding a gunfight."
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:30, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Randolph Team [Mel, Solo, Frenchman]:
Rachel looks at Solo in no small amount of alarm but is composed enough to keep dancing, although her smile falters and dies…
“Tonight? Already? Is this because of what’s happening in Boston? I knew… never mind, you don’t need to hear about that… ok, I’m ready, just tell me what I have to do!”
As Mel and the Frenchman glide around the floor with exquisite grace you become aware of a certain flow to the crowd and suddenly a very young looking lady is smiling up at you both with innocent ease…the Lady deBathyre…
“Excuse me, may I have this dance…?
I’m sorry to interrupt your display but I was curious as to who you are? You aren’t on the guest list, or you weren’t until a short time ago, and as I invited everyone I thought I’d come and introduce myself. Are you and your lovely companion enjoying the party?”
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination]:
Smiley’s drunken knocking brings a rather disgruntled looking individual to the door, clearly having had a little something to ‘take the edge off’ himself given his rather flushed complexion…
“What!”
***
#9
-
[Wednesday, June 28th, 2076, 〜23:30, Randolph Hotel, Oxford]
"Not at all, I needed to freshen up anyways" answered Mel in the most neutral American accent she could pull as she handed her dancing partner to Lady deBathyre. She made sure she passed by Solo on her way to the bathroom, giving him a "right now" look. She also took a quick but careful look at Rachel, trying to memorize the right colour of dress she was wearing as well as her general appearance and any other feature that she would need to replicate. Once she was in the bathroom, Mel looked around to make sure the restroom was both empty and secure.
[spoiler]Just let me know Aria if anybody is in the bathroom and Mel will find a way to get rid of them.
And by the way, are we in 2075 or 2076?[/spoiler]
-
[Jackhammer -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Mathematics Institute on Observatory roof with Duke - Main Extraction team - Current condition 0 damage - bow loaded & ready]
Aaron presses himself flat against the wall as he hears the drum of suppressed gunfire.
"Can you blow a window?" He asks Duke, seeing no line of sight to cover their team that he was led to believe was inside.
-
Solo smiles at Rachel... "For now... just keep dancing... and try to smile I am not such a terrible dancer" he said.
He casually places the Micro camera on her shirt, it is disguised as a small pin. "It will help me keep an eye on you... I am called Solo - whisper my name if anything is wrong."
When Mel gives the okay Solo casually whispers... "I need you to go after this woman to the bathroom and swap clothes with her."
He reassures her.. "Do not worry I'll be right here to escort you out". He does not even dare to make eye contact with Frenchman and the lady, but Solo hopes that Frenchman is able to keep her interested in him until he and Mel had a chance to remove Rachel out of sight.
-
"nope can do nothing im hoping someone blows the wall up or we have to move in close. was figuring shit would go down but i thought my rifle and i would be better up here. Drekin Fraggers!nodding towards the wall@ firing team "can someone take out that wall ill provide cover fire other wise it'll take me awhile to provide support.""im going to wait and see if they got my message and blow the wall or we are hoofing it."Sighing obviously
-
As Rachel followed Mel to the female restrooms, Solo entered the male restrooms.
He texted Frenchman... <<Keep the lady busy mate... this can still be a good development... take into account that if you are augmented she may be able to see it... but dance with her... charm her and stall as much as you can>> He hoped that the Frenchman has DNI, but there was no harm in messaging. Worst case no reply will come. Solo felt a bit clumsy without his trodes but he wanted to preserve his talent so drilling a hole in his brain was out of the question. Unfortunately trodes look a bit geeky and are not appropriate in formal events.
A cooperate building.... sometime in 2065
The whole situation reminded him of a different extraction all together... his own. He was just learning the ways of magic, but already a capable Decker. The extraction failed, he captured the group of runners... it was a commlink left to run silent rather than turned offline that exposed them. His security troops quickly captured the runners and led them to the interrogation room.
He was in his office... opening the door was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She was breathtaking almost inhumanly perfect. He immediately knew that she wasn’t there... he pointed a gun at her... she was caught completely by surprise. “Drop it!” he screamed and it actually worked she dropped her pistol.
Hands up, face the wall he said... as he walked to cuff her. He was never the murderous type and he glad it was over without a fight... “how did you get past the security?... I caught all your friends already...”
He could not see it but the lady smiled... she let him hand cuff her... but getting close to her... the smell it was something different... pheromones he thought.
“Now don’t be silly Mr. Bergman... they were only used to get you busy... a distraction”
“but... we stopped you our CTO is secured you clearly have failed...”
“What if I didn’t come for the CTO...?" she said... Solo could feel his touch becoming softer, he knew that he cannot push the trigger and so did she... she turned to face him still cuffed and approached him.
“I did not come for the CTO silly... I came for you” she kissed him.
“For me... ? that makes no sense at all..."
on my belly there is an envelope... it is for you.... take it”
Solo touched her lifiting her shirt and indeed there was an envelope there. He was burning with desire... just from casually touching her skin as he removed the envelope.
“It contains information about who you really are...” She said.
“I caught you... you failed!” he said defensively.
“Indeed you can turn me in... but your people will take the envelope as evidence... If you open it however... you are a traitor...” she said calmly.
He opened the envelope... what he saw in there made him release her and not report that incident... He had to get out of these life.... but how?
-
Seeing the target Sarah immediatly shot a stunbolt a the man in front of Daniel. Unfortuantly the spell was n't very effective, and her knee's buckled as she took the drain of the spell. She steadied herself. The drain hadn't been to bad, and she began to move to the door, ready to stun the guard again if Daniel didn't take him down.
-
Well that was going to be an interesting night!
He took the young looking woman's hand and brought it to his lips.
Enchanté, Lady deBathyre. He said in his most distinctive french accent. It is such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, and nonetheless sharing this dance with you.
He initiated the dance with great agility. It made no doubt that it wasn't his first rodeo. He only wished he remembered when and where.
<<Solo, feed me data now!! anything you got. NeoNet's biz; what's for auctions here; possible business in France. Quick!>>
He was so glad for his datajack and DNI link. He could silently send message. That may save his skin.
I apologize for the maybe unexpected appearance at your party, Chère. I meant no disrespect, au contraire. I am to understand you and I share a similar interest for unusual... things... Or so my employer says.
The Frenchman's plan was simple. Keep her intrigued and keep the attention on herself. He didn't know or remember what a Drake was or could do, and maybe he was going to take one for the team. But if he could keep the conversation friendly and going for a few more minutes, his two new companions could take care of completing their part of the mission.
-
Solo’s nostalgic moment is cut by Frenchman’s request... stupid he think... he shouldn’t have to even ask. <<I’ll be quick! >> he responds, he is glad that Frenchamn has a DNI it simplifies stuff.
... Solo enters the toilet and puts the deck on his lap. He optimizes the configuration for matrix searches and starts browsing the matrix as fast as he can. He is looking for legitimate excuses for why the Frenchman is in that party... auction perhaps... as well as some information about the Lady, so that she might favor his excuse... he stays in AR and is running silently to avoid unwanted attention. He forward the message from Frenchman and his response to Mel as well as the feed from the Micro camera on Rachel.
to Mel <<Keep the camera on her as you do your stuff>>
[spoiler]
Matrix Search - intuition 6 + computer 6 + adept power 2 + brand loyalty 1 -2 running silent = 13
13d6t5: 5 [13d6t5=1, 2, 5, 6, 2, 6, 2, 5, 5, 4, 3, 4, 3]
Matrix Search(Silent in AR) (http://orokos.com/roll/293060): 13d6t5 5
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint couldn't be sure, but he thought he had landed a solid hit against the assault rifle wielder. Something hit his helmet and bounced of into the darkness.
'Not what I need right now.'
Isaint concentrated again and prayed to St. George for resilience. This time the saint seemed to here his prayer and Isaint felt his muscles harden and his breath going easier.
Next he moved the rifle towards his second enemy and aimed for his gun hand.
[spoiler]
Simple Action: Body-Boost (roll in OOC post)
Simple Action: Shoot at Foe #2 (Disarm -4 dice)
Shoot Foe #2 (Disarm) AP-2 11S (http://orokos.com/roll/293903): 10d6t5 2
I assume, that I am in half cover now
[/spoiler]
-
Smiley was about to continue his 'drunk kid' act with the guard when the stunbolt hit the guard, Was hoping to do this inside, but.. Smiley boosted his Agility and went to Clinch the guard and move him as far as possible into the house.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al congratulated himself as the ninja babe went down - it was less like he was shooting bullets than squirting red paint at the fourth floor ceiling. Or as if instead of firing, his finger had pressed a detonator setting off a packet of explosives in her head.
Well, you could dress up in all the digital SWAT-wear you wanted and spray 'n' pray new-fangled electrocuting ammo to your heart's content, and you'd never be a match for a Christian finger on the trigger of an American-made rifle.
Glancing around, it was hard to take the rest of the action in - the damned demon-dog had run off somewhere, there was still some shooting going on, but he couldn't see it, and there was a hellacious smell and black smoke coming from up there as well.
With rear guard duty having served its purpose, he started running up the nearest stairs, topping up his magazine as he went.
<<@all - confirm one hostile down, headed to top level now.>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team.
This run had gone south rapidly, he was cursing not being boots on the ground, but there was little Snow Crash could do about it now. For now he just had to focus on the jammer. Although not usually his thing, the lack of any opposing hacker meant his best bet was to remain hidden and not give his position away, at least until he dealt with that fragging jammer... With a frontal attack out of the question his mind turned to a cunning tactic he'd learned the hard way a few years ago...
Friday, September 16th, 2072, Tacoma, Seattle.
The run had gone completely sideways, it was a simple smash-and-grab job... the only problem was it was so simple that two other teams had shown up for the prize. One had shown up on the way in, the other while they where trying to get the hell out of dodge before HTR showed up. His team had the prize, but there where holed up on the rooftop with too much suppressing fire to make the jump.
Some attack code was elegant and almost a work of art... then where was attack code like this, a veritable digital sledgehammer that slammed into the control circuitry of the cybereyes of the sammy laying down the suppressive fire keeping them pinned down.
Opposing sammy "What the.. FRAGGIT! Some dreckhead decker just bricked my eyes! Wireless off!
Snow Crash grinned and gave the rest of his team a thumbs up as he watched a myriad of weapons and cybernetics icons blink off the grid.
A couple of the opposing team where making the jump across the gap to the other rooftop. A few of them still remained behind.
There was still comlinks, the icons shrinking slightly as the opposing team moved away. Far in the distance he could see the icons of the approaching HTR team...
And then nothing, the Matrix vanished as his AR display disappeared when his PAN crashed. The albino Orc quickly grabbed his deck and mashed the power button to get it back online, a blistering stream of Or'Zet curses filling the air as the display peeled off a root level format of the device. Looking around he noticed a human lining up for a jump across the gap giving him a dreck-eating grin. Turning back he didn't notice the albino orc reach down and ready his Ares Alpha and take aim, the rounds didn't punch through the armored jacket but it did knock him off balance just as he was about to jump leaving him tumbling down just short of the other rooftop.
The rest of Snow Crash's team took it as a signal and open fire, spells and bullets scattering the opposing team who broke into a retreat, probably because they could also hear the sirens of the approaching HTR team. As Snow Crash jumped the gap he looked down but couldn't see the body of the decker, he did notice that the railing of one of the fire escape balconies was bent however.
Sunday, September 18th, 2072, Crusher 459 Redmond Barrens, Seattle.
A wave of Or'Zet nova rock hits Snow Crash as he enters Crusher 459. One of the better clubs in Redmond, especially for someone goblinized like him, sure his albinism got him a few looks, but most nodded to him. White skin and hair or no, he was still one of them. Looking around the club he noticed someone that seemed out of place, a human with a chrome arm cradling his ribs, the human noticed him, face splitting into a familiar dreck-eating grin and motions Snow Crash over with his chrome hand. With a shrug the albino orc walks over to the human's booth and takes a seat.
Human Decker "Hoi omai, glad to see you gave that HTR team the slip. Neither of us are dead or arrested, so no hard feelings about the other night neh? Name's Jackal by the way."
Snow Crash "Jackal eh? Snow Crash. I was wondering how you'd fared after you took that dive, but judging from that chrome and the bent railing I can see how things must have fallen into place."
Jackal laughs and grimaces at the poor choice of words, but flashes his dreck-eating grin again
Jackal "Yeah, don't think I've ever been more glad of having a chrome arm as I was that moment, cracked a few ribs when I swung into the fire escape though. Stupid of me to turn my back on you, should have guessed an orc Decker able to assemble code like that would also be packing in meat. What the frag was that anyway?"
The albino orc chuckling as he replied Snow Crash "Ares Alpha, just be glad I was still only firing regular rounds and not APDS. But let me replay, what the frag did you do to my deck? Took me most of yesterday to get it back up and running again."
Jackal "That? Little trick of rewriting the boot code of a device to perform a format next time it starts up. You need to be careful and make sure they don't notice your Marks, takes a full three to pull it of but after that? All the software and firmware needs to be reinstalled. Here, what you do is..."
The two deckers lean over the table, one nodding sending while dreadlocks swaying and the other punctuating explanations of code and device protocols with a dreck-eating grin...
Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team.
The code was like a scalpel, a precision instrument designed for a specific porpoise. With each flick of code trying to gain more control over the jammer without alerting the owner.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Seras Bared fangs at the astral mage before hissing at the mortal Die, mortal! Etheral fangs glistening as Seras lunged for the mages throat andtried to bring it back to Al
Daddy crouched by the thin cover he had, temper starting to rise
All>> Im going to try to take out their cover>>
Daddy again started to drool from the mouth, the blackish bile building about his feet into a surging mass before with a barked syllable it raised and surged from daddy towards the Banister and the gunman somewhat behind it
Burn, Burn in the bile of my Hate The strange tones burbled from daddy as the black wave surged from him, little droplets falling from his mouth to sizzle for a moment on the floor
-
Just from the corner of his eye Isaint saw the carnage his team-mates did. 'Damn it. That's not right. You don't escalate to lethal if you don't have to. God have mercy on their souls.' But they hadn't had a chance to specify rules of engagement and now it was to late. SnS ammo would probably soon be replaced by something a lot nastier. There was only one solution. With his loud bass voice he called out to the opposing team:
"Give up now and you may live!"
[spoiler]
Intimidate: +2 from outnumber
Intimidate (http://orokos.com/roll/294239): 7d6t5 2
30
[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:32, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer (& Tobis)]:
As Isaint scuttles for more cover under the targeted fire from the balcony, his snap shot just missing the runner’s Ingram who responds by sending more sparking slugs to bounce harmlessly of his gel padded armour. Daddy reacts by sending a wave of toxic sludge gushing up towards the other runner. The balcony edge disappears in a wall of smoke, the timber acoustic panels spalling off the balcony to fall in a dripping smoking morass towards Al as he pelts up the stairs towards the higher levels…
Outside Jackhammer and Duke see the wall on the upper floor of the southern building begin to bubble and smoke as black slime eats away at the outer wall, for now the view is obscured but their attention is directed elsewhere as a squawked warning from Tobis alerts them to a rapidly approaching silently operating icon… silenced fire stiches a pattern across the Observatory from the jinking aerial drone streaking towards them…
@Randolph Team [Mel, Solo, Frenchman]:
Solo’s rapid search on Lady deBathyre throws up numerous hits on the sorts of social media sites that cater to the corp crowd but nothing that could be called really useful…the only real gem is that her title ‘Lady’ appears to be an affectation as she’s not listed on any peerage list in Europe and her surname doesn’t throw up any hits before 2050 so is also manufactured. NeoNet’s interests in the region are almost too numerous to mention beyond their basic focus on high technology. Then something does grab you…on a shadow site similar to the ShadowSEA host you find something that links her name with a hacker handle eTher, who funnily enough has a drake persona made up of high res stars and constellations, …it would seem she isn’t the sweetness and light she is projecting to the crowd. Perhaps the Frenchman can use that…
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination]:
The guard staggers back under the combined assault and seems confused and frightened, certainly not combat trained…and Smiley ruefully remembers that there are supposed to be staff in addition to the security personnel…so if they aren’t sleeping on the job they may well be reacting in short order. Reacting in this case is very likely to be a call to the police…!
***
#10
-
"looks like a rigger joined the party jack! Cover me I have to change positions to shoot the thing.duke then starts to adjust his rifle to a better position to shoot this drone out of the sky. He takes a few secondsto line up the shot. Then there is a loud crack....
-
Isaint's shot had gone wide, but at least his opponent hadn't hit him either.
They had gone to ground, but didn't surrender. 'Well, they had their chance.'
He let go of the rifle, so it hung from the sling and once again prayed for guidance. This time he felt a change even if it was just a little bit. 'Seems like someone up there is not thrilled with my performance.'
With his free hand he grasped into his pocket and retrieved a flash bang grenade. 'Thank god this job pays well. I hate to throw a 100 bucks at my enemies.'
<<Fire in the hole, flash bang>>
With a twist he activated the impact detonator and threw the grenade towards his second enemies supposed position. But even as the grenade left his hand he knew, that the throw would go wide. On the plus side he didn't hit himself or Daddy who had appeared uncomfortably close to the unintended impact zone.
<<Ups, sorry Daddy>>
-
[spoiler] In case they're needed:
Defense: (http://orokos.com/roll/294305) [12d6t5=3, 1, 1, 5, 4, 4, 5, 6, 2, 6, 4, 3] 4 no penalties factored in
Damage Resist: (http://orokos.com/roll/294306) [25d6t5=5, 2, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 6, 3, 3, 5, 2, 4, 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 1, 1, 6, 5, 1] 7 no AP factored in[/spoiler]
Aaron sees the incoming fire at the last second. Luckily he was already flat against the wall, but unluckily that made dodging a little more complicated too. He responded to the fire from the buzzing drone with a single arrow. "Don't take too long." he replies to Duke as the man sets up his shot.
[spoiler]Arrow Attack! (http://orokos.com/roll/294307) [15d6t5=4, 4, 4, 2, 3, 3, 5, 1, 5, 2, 6, 3, 4, 2, 6] 4 no penalties factored in
DV = 12 + net hits[/spoiler]
-
Solo shares some of the highlights of the searched data.
<<Frenchman... apperantly our lady has multiple talents. Formally she is not a lady at all... she is however the famous decker: eTher perheaps you can say that you are a fan of eTher works... her persona is a drake by the way... >>
Holy crap a decker thinks Solo... I guess I am not the only magical decker in the world... this is somewhat reassuring, but who knows what she is capable in the matrix...
One thing he was sure... no drake is going to drill a hole in her head in order to have the head ready at all time... most awakened find augmentations repulsive to behold in the astral world... and think that their magic is the most important thing... Solo was not an exception of that... awakened was somthing that he is... he'd never perpously damage his talent altough a DNI would make his life a lot easier.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Trotting up the stairs with his head on a swivel, Al heard an unholy wrenching sound and looked up in time to see a whole section of the structure directly above him separate from its struts and come tumbling down. He bounded up several more steps just quickly enough that it crashed down at his heels, spraying a mist of acid that stung the back of his neck like fiery pinpricks, reminding him of that dread day more than forty years ago. His hands tingled at the memory.
No sooner had he dodged that hazard, however, than Isaint called, "Fire in the hole," and Al closed his eyes, covered his ears, and hunkered down until he heard the blast, then resumed his ascent.
All hell was breaking loose and still no sign of Doctor Dick.
-
Smiley will go ahead and put the guy out, since he already has him cinched up, but now he he is worried that they may be getting made. Speaking into his subdermal mike he says urgently, "Hallie, we need magic eyes, how many are still in the building? Tobbis, can you put a tag or something on that kid to find later? We need to make sure no police calls go out from this house and we are going to get made!"
[spoiler]
Subdual of dude (AGI + MA +Superior position) (http://orokos.com/roll/294454): 19d6t5 7 When I get the chance to start putting him out my damage is 5[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]
If I understood that right, we keep the initiative scores and Isaint goes again:
Isaint moves up the stairs, so Foe #2 comes in sight and shoots her with the rifle:
Shoot Foe #2 (http://orokos.com/roll/295007): 15d6t5 2
I hate Orokos and it hates me...
11S AP-2
Afterwards -10 to ini to go on full defense
32
[/spoiler]
Isaint moved up the last steps, went around the corner and had just enough time for another snapshot at his second opponent before he went into a dive roll to avoid the inevitable response.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:32, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer (& Tobis)]:
Fraggers just don’t know when to quit! A dull thunk is followed by a clatter and then the air around Al and Daddy ignites as the magnesium particles ejected by the flashbang grenade combust with another deafening crack…almost covering the soft sound of more bullets winging towards, and past, Isaint…
Ignoring the incoming fire whickering towards Duke and Jackhammer they calmly line themselves up on the drone and with efficient grace sending it tumbling out of the sky where it crashes somewhere out of sight on Observatory Street…
***
#11
-
'Huh, did that grenade actually hit?' Isaint didn't have much more time to think and his shot had already hit the unconscious body. Well, the Gel ammo hopefully wouldn't kill his downed foe and anyway he had more pressing concerns. A new player had entered the game and his team mates where still playing a few levels below him.
Silently he thanked god and what ever engineer had designed this cheap, cheap rifle to be outfitted with a slightly larger magazine than other, stronger types.
He took a moment to steady his aim and sent another gel bullet downrange towards his new opponent.
[spoiler]
Ini 13:
Simple Action: Aim
Simple Action: Shoot Foe #4 (http://orokos.com/roll/295117): 16d6t5 7
11S AP-2 + successes
33
[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Following target in his Jackrabbit - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim
Hearing panicked cries on his commlink, Tobbis threw out a few perception checks towards the school and the maths department, yet before he could hone in on anything down there to really help them out as that was the primary goal, the conflict was practically over. Good, the main objective should be easy for those guys, now to focus on the two secondary objectives. he thought to himself.
Focusing on the team he was part of now, he realized that they were having some trouble with the first guard, and as they had agreed, were working to knock the sucker out. Tobbis was a bit of a devious dog, he didn’t hack like deckers would of course. If had known about the garbage in/garbage out, and had cleaner at paw, he so totally would have started running that, nearly two hours ago. But alas, he didn’t have these options at the time. So he went with his next best trick.. Make them think something has already happened.
As his dog-brained car continued to go down the road, he’d soon need to check where the target he was chasing was, he began threading power around him, channeling it into the form of a bow and arrow, pulling back the string and firing a shot towards the servent’s commlink was, Floom! The arrow fired off, streaking across the matrix, suddenly making it appear as if not only the commlink called the police already, but was currently connected to the police department. He takes a note that next time, he’ll use Garbage in/Garbage out, along with this power to really make things go the way he wants. A voice will start playing an on hold.
Thank you for calling, all agents are currently catching other bad guys. Your current wait time is thirty minutes. Please stay on the line, and an agent will be with you shortly.
There, that should allow those two deal with that one a little easier, unless the servant started trying to actually make the call from his commlink. After all it only seemed like it was connected.
[spoiler]22th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
Resonance Veil - New Icon appears - Deck attempting to hack the rigger's control rig Servent's commlink appears to already be connected tot he police - Level 2 - Blow the Limit (http://orokos.com/roll/295043): 15d6h5! 10 15d6h5!: 10 [15d6h5=4, 1, 4, 5, 3, [6, 5], 1, [6, 3], [6, 2], 1, [6, 2], [6, 1], [6, 6, 5], 4, 1
Ressit 2 fade (http://orokos.com/roll/295047): 12d6t5 2
The car wasn't given the order to follow the other icon, but to continue south on the road they were on as to keep the guy in a closer distance. Tobbis is going to have it follow, but only by giving it commands it can actually follow.
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team
Snow Crash's digital avatar frowned in concentration as filaments of code wrapped around the icon of the jamming device, resolving into three straight razor slash marks. using this admin level access to upload a short virus into the boot-sector that would format the device's firmware and then triggering a reboot. The wraith like orc grinning in triumph as the opposing jamming suddenly vanished.
Snow Crash to Primary Extraction Team [Alright, that's the enemy jamming taken care of. Time to... what the frag people?! I thought we where going in for an extraction! Who the blazing hells using lethal rounds on an extraction!
Cursing in a mixture of English and Or'Zet the orc decker decides the next thing to do is to locate their payday, fast!
[spoiler]Matrix Perception: Searching for comlink owned by Doctor Richard Pelletiere. ((AFAIK we weren't given a comcode.))
Computers 6 + Intuition 5 + Perceptive 1 + Hot Sim 2 - Running Silent 2
Matrix Perception test (http://orokos.com/roll/295288): 12d6t5 3 hits
What is the device's comcode?
What grid is it running on?[/spoiler]
Locating the target's comlink and finding out the comcode he sends a message.
Snow Crash to Doctor Richard Pelletiere [Dr. Richard, my name is Snow Crash, I'm part of the extraction team hired by Art seeking to secure you and your family safely. As you have no doubt heard things have gotten complicated, a rival team has shown up and there's a firefight going on. My primary concern is to make sure you don't get caught in any crossfire, I'm going to ask two things of you. Firstly for now, stay where you are, if your office has any cover, I would suggest making use of it. Secondly, I need you to extend me two marks on your comlink and allow me to run and maintain a trace on your physical location. This is primarily to ensure that we do not get too close while the firefight is still going on and risk you getting injured. I am presently running Matrix overwatch, more of my team are making their way towards your office once they have dealt with the other team, we also have others providing physical overwatch. Two other teams are working now to safely extract your wife and kids.
-
[Jackhammer -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Mathematics Institute on Observatory roof with Duke - Main Extraction team - Current condition 2 damage - bow loaded & ready]
Aaron let loose his arrow, but was almost certain it would miss as he stepped between bullets and caught one in the chest. He grimaced as he pulled back his jacket and saw blood seeping around titanium-bound ribs. At least he was getting some mileage out of his 'ware. "I'm going to need some meds." he says to nobody in particular.
Pulling back the string of his bow, he laces the arrow and casts his gaze inside the building. He suddenly wishes he had some kind of microphone for communication like they did for his security jobs. "Just bring them to me..." he muttered, aiming at the hole Daddy had left in the wall.
[spoiler]9[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
[/b][spoiler] Dodge roll against flash-bang 10d6t5: 2 [10d6t5=3, 5, 2, 1, 3, 2, 1, 5, 4, 2] well that doesn't seem hopeful. . .
Dodge (http://orokos.com/roll/295414): 10d6t5 2 New Initiative 10[/spoiler]
<<Isaint No problem My man>>
Oh Drek Daddy's eyes widend a bit as he saw the grenade sail through the air and he dove
INCOMING! Daddy's burbling tones echo around, although at that point he couldn't really make out any sounds
-
Solo texts Mel, cc Frenchman... <<Are you gals finished? from the look of it we should really get out of here as soon as possible. That lady is also a decker and with all the bad stuff that goes on with the other teams if the goods grant us stealth it won't be long before they go to secure the wife let's just get out of here... they are firing like crazy out there>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Having run the veritable gauntlet of destruction on the first flight of stairs, Al had just topped up his magazine when he caught up with Daddy on the third level, only to hear a very bad clattering sound. He thought the mage was starting to yell something but he'd already thrown himself against the closest sofa, covering his head with his arms for the second time in the past five seconds.
Even through his dampers the blast sounded like the devil's own war trumps, and the light found its way past his arms into his eyes, though at that point his flare comps were able to do their job.
Immediately bounding up over the back of the sofa, he wanted to check on Daddy, but then there was no medicine in a firefight - first they had to win the engagement. He hightailed it on up to the top floor, leveled his weapon and cast about for a target. He quickly spotted a new asshole firing at Isaint from about where Doctor Dick's office was supposed to be….
-
Beaming towards Jackhammer "Drones aint what they used to be the fragger missed me and blew up all at once! Haha! Noticing JH got hit"Frag Man! sorry i thought i got it quick enough are you alright? So i don't have a med kit on me its on my bike and its about a block away you going to survive? @ Team"Overwatch just had contact still no visual on you guys but we are making one hell of a racket. Mage if you can blow that hole you made a little bigger thats a great place to evac from, i'll cover y'all.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:32, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer]:
Isaint and Al at the top of the stairs target the foe that appeared in the doorway to the office identified as belonging to the Doctor…not good, it implied they won the race, at least so far…but there’s one less of them as Isaint and Al’s combined fire drove the dark suited figure back out of sight in a welter of blood…
Snow Crash to Doctor Richard Pelletiere [Dr. Richard, my name is Snow Crash, I'm part of the extraction team hired by Art seeking to secure you and your family safely. As you have no doubt heard things have gotten complicated, a rival team has shown up and there's a firefight going on. My primary concern is to make sure you don't get caught in any crossfire, I'm going to ask two things of you. Firstly for now, stay where you are, if your office has any cover, I would suggest making use of it. Secondly, I need you to extend me two marks on your comlink and allow me to run and maintain a trace on your physical location. This is primarily to ensure that we do not get too close while the firefight is still going on and risk you getting injured. I am presently running Matrix overwatch, more of my team are making their way towards your office once they have dealt with the other team, we also have others providing physical overwatch. Two other teams are working now to safely extract your wife and kids.
The reply is somewhat galling, the voiced masked response sounding gratingly across your comms
<<I’m sorry, the good doctor can’t come to his ‘link right now! Thanks for the intel fragger, now tell your team to back the fuck away or we are going to redecorate the doc’s office with the contents of his brain pan! Nobody gets the prize and the police get to pick over the evidence…and call off this fragging spirit before it really pisses me off!>>
@Randolph Team [Mel, Solo, Frenchman]:
Good to go right? Sounds like the other team could do with your backup! Now you just need to escape the clutches of a drake who may or may not be directing your opposition in the Maths Institute…!
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination]:
You have perhaps bought yourselves a moment if the actual security forces are looking in the other direction…otherwise the urgency of your mission is only compounded by the knowledge that one of the kids is potentially slipping further from your grasp and that the main extraction team has met resistance from the other runner team…
***
#12
-
Aaron looks again at his wound, noting the lack of serious bleeding. He decides it's just some scraped skin after all. "I'll be fine." he reassures Duke. He keeps his arrow steady, waiting for the signal from inside. There was something very stressful about simply holding an arrow, waiting. At least when you're being shot at, you know what to do. But when you have over 100lb of draw and no idea when the shot is going to come, if at all, seconds are hours.
-
Isaint moved towards the position of Foe #1, the rifle ready to shoot him down again, should he still be active.
Al reached him and Isaint whispered to him:
"Thanks for the fire support, but could you use something less lethal? What if that guy running from that office was our target person? That would seriously crimp my style and I need that payday. Last but not least, it's just common courtesy as long as the other side doesn't try to kill us..."
Isaint stopped as he received the message scrolling through his visual cortex.
He tagged into the conversation:
<<@unknown runner: You have two unconscious chummers out here and a third that needs serious medical attention. Give us the doctor and I will let you and your remaining teammates leave without further harm.
Continue with this threat to your hostage and we will terminate you with utmost prejudice.
We might not receive a payday, but you will end up in a morgue. We have sniper support on this building and another three teams on standby, as well as air support on hold. Our mages - yes, plural - are securing the astral and our deckers have secured the matrix. There is no chance of escape.
This is your only chance.>>
[spoiler]
I don't know how much movement I have left, but Isaint moves towards the office and should see Foe #1
Since I need a simple action for movement, I'll just make a snap shot at Foe #1 as soon as I see him.
Shoot Foe #1 (http://orokos.com/roll/296273): 15d6t5 5 [15d6t5=5, 6, 1, 3, 1, 6, 1, 1, 6, 6, 2, 4, 1, 4, 2]
11S AP-2 (Gel)
For the talk with the opposing runner, I'd make a Con (Fast Talk) roll.
Con (Fast Talk) (http://orokos.com/roll/296271): 13d6t5 5 [13d6t5=6, 6, 1, 3, 4, 3, 3, 2, 3, 6, 6, 1, 5]
34
[/spoiler]
-
Time seemed to be running out... Solo nervously considered his options...
<<Guys... lets do the vampire trick and bolt the fuck away... I'll use the spirit to augment our running speed to that of a bike and we secure the wife and start helping the rest.>>
He also messages Snow Crash, with cc to the rest of the team.
<<Snow... I am not sure I should write it to you... The hostess in the hotel is actually a drake and a Decker... she may be the queen bee of their entire operation... or may secure other NeoNet interests... but a super spider in the vicinity of a host crush seems a bit suspicious don't you think?
P.S as usual if you need a wingman and I am not currently shooting someone, I'll be happy to help.>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Hostage-taking. Always the last play of the desperate defeated. Once Isaint finished his pitch, Al whispered, "Ya shouldn't'a told 'im you'd kill 'im, ya shoulda told 'im ya wouldn't kill 'im, leastways not fer a week or so." Then the little man started off in the direction he thought grenade-boy was hiding, but stopped when he recalled the ork's noble injunction. He looked back over his shoulder and sotto voced, "Ol' Al don't do fake bullets. Ya wanna keep playin' chivalry games with yer life an' our'n, that's yer row ta hoe. Yer so innerested in common courtesy, reckon I'll leave ya to sort out the talkin' side o' things. Me, I'm gon' go tree this sumbitch tryin' ta blow us up." And with that he took off in search of his quarry.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Following target in his Jackrabbit - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim Chasing after car now- Maintaining CF on servent's commlink via focused concentration - Switching to Silent
Tobbis was certain that his two allies would be able to take down the servant while he continued he dogged pursuit of the guy leaving the manor. Surely everyone one else in the other teams wouldn't need his assistance just yet. Slipping back in to silent, he gave a few more commands to his car. First, gotta see what the guy was packing, and he would soon do a matrix perception on him
[spoiler]23th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
when I can do it..
Perc Commlink leaving (http://orokos.com/roll/296556): 13d6t5 6 13d6t5: 6 [13d6t5=6, 4, 6, 5, 3, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 4, 5, 2]
Questions are -
What is the Device rating of the Commlink
What is on its pan?
What grid is it on?
how long has it been running?
Is it sending out any communications?
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team
Three things happened at once that made Snow Crash's avatar literally freeze in the Matrix.
The first was the reply message from the hostage taker.
The second was a message about a nearby Drake Hacker.
The third... was a firmware update. Someone at Jackpoint had worked out some new protocols and pushed it through to every registered Decker with access. As information ont he protocols scrolled past he couldn't help but grin... sure they where more prankster like than his usual style, but he could see the uses.
First off he needed to respond to new intel.
Snow Crash to Solo [Frag! Thanks for the heads up... it does explain a lot of things. I'd ask you to keep the drake occupied, but that'd be highly counter-productive to your role. I'll keep my head down int he Matrix, and keep my eyes peeled. While you're able to keep an eye on her, lemmie know if she slips off... may be all the warning I get before she shows up here. But don't hang around!
Alright you fragger... lets see what toys you have.
[spoiler]Matrix Perception Test: Looking for hostage taker's smartgun.
Computers 6 + Intuition 5 + Perceptive 1 + Hot Sim 2 - Running Silent 2
Noise Compensation: Datajack Wireless bonus -1, Signal Scrubber -2
Matrix Perception test (http://orokos.com/roll/296558): 12d6t5 2 hits, Glitch.
Frag... OK next chance I get I'll look again.
Matrix Perception test (http://orokos.com/roll/296559): 12d6t5 6 hits
Data Processing limit 5[/spoiler]
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, 〜23:32, Randolph Hotel, Oxford]
Mel was trying to erase any tags their marks might have had on her when she received Solo's message. She quickly motioned for Rachel to keep quiet and to hand over her commlink, looking for a different exit to the bathroom than from the door they entered from. She sent a quick message to Solo, asking <Sugar, can you find us an alternate exit? Preferably one without any eyes on us? And don't forget to have the car ready. I'll stay over at the hotel with French, spoofing the wife's comm, while you make your way out with our girl.>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Primary Extraction Team, Condition 3 Stun, -1 penalty
Damn daddy shook his head trying to get the ringing in his ears to stop, spitting a bit of blood to the floor
Must have bit my damn tongue daddy staggered a bit before realizing someone not on the team was talking
That no good son of a bitch,I'm gonna turn him inside out daddy unintentionally growled through his teeth before he got unsteadily back to a crouch
<<All, I'm alright clipped by the flashbang, I'm going to pull my spirit off but its not going anywhere>> daddies voice hissed and slid through the mic, His voice slowly taking burbling tones
><Isaint>> I'm with Al, although i won't be as loud about it, If i see him there will be blood>>
To me my Hound daddie hissed, calling the hound back to him
[spoiler]2 Services left[/spoiler]
-
Solo texts Mel, cc Frenchman << Two exists... one through the parking lot. I’ll have the growler pick you up - I hope you are not shy. The other option, rush to the balcony and jump - make sure that I say it is okay to jump I’ll have some magic make sure you reach the ground unhurt and my growler to pick you up - if the growler is not fast enough due to you two riding it I can fix that too - but Frenchman has to be a good driver to prevent you from crushing into a tree or anything. Don’t surprise me if you decide to jump >>
[spoiler]are there any other exist that Solo is aware of? He did study the hotel in the way.[/spoiler]
Before joining with Solo Rachel sent a message to her husband saying that she was approached by the extraction team and is getting ready to leave. Mel and Rachel have already swapped comlinks, and changed appearances. When Solo grabs Rachel's hand and walk with her to through the main entrance she is showing Mel's SIN and is dressed in Mel's clothes.
He contacts his spirit just to take comfort from her presence. ‘I know what you want...’ said the spirit. 'just think the word and I’ll make you guys run as fast as I can'.
-
The Frenchman kept the chatting going with the young looking 'Lady'
She didn't react much to hearing about an employer but he was going to try to keep her on that track and his interest and knowledge of her real skills.
I must say, the Baron wasn't too impressed not being invited here, but to be honest I think he's one of those who believe to be much more important than they really are. It's amazing how many people like to just give themselves titles and pretend to be big shots who own the place...
<<Negative, Solo. No Mojo unless fully necessary. Having a Spirit manifest here could blow all cover.>>
I insisted with the Baron, however, to be the one sent here. You see, in spite of the appearance, I've been a big fan of you 'abilities'.
<<Exit with the target. Look casual, like just walking back to your room. Main entrance makes for great exit. My car is in the street or use the loaned vehicle in the parking lot. I handle the Lady, Mel and I will stay till you're gone. >>
He twirled the girl gracefully, in sink with the music.
So, "Milady", I certainly hope you will spare some time to further this conversation...
-
Solo texts Frenchman,cc Mel << Taking loaned vehicle. I am 100% with you on this one... but keep that option in mind as if our plan works it is going to be be pretty hot for you guys in there. >> Thinking with Mel disguised at the wife after sending that message if the other team goes for the family as well they will converge on the wife soon. He is lucky to be on the way out already.
-
When the man was knocked out, Smiley eased him to the floor. Then, while listening for the mystic adept's astral report, he began to systematically, but quickly, clear the rooms on the ground floor, before moving upstairs. He expected to find the boy asleep in his bed, but he knew there should be at least one more person in the house.
Sneak and spy rolls: Sneaking 3 + Agility 9(5) and Perception 4 + Intuition 4 (5 times) (http://orokos.com/roll/297535): 5#12d6t5 4 6 4 6 4 5#8d6t5 3 5 1 1 2
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:32, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer]:
As Al and Daddy make their way around the right hand side of the atrium away from the Doctor’s office Isaint snaps off a shot at the crouched figure of their assault rifle wielding foe who doubles up over the impact of the gel round into his sternum. The message back from the unknown runner is a curt “frag you!”
Under Snow Crash’s virtual gaze three silent running icons appear within the vicinity of the Doctor’s office and he is able to determine that at least one has smartlinked weapons in the PAN…
Outside Duke and Jackhammer can hear the muted wail of sirens…it could be coincidence but there seems to have been very few police actions since the teams had arrived on site and a crashing drone was bound to draw attention…
@Randolph Team [Mel, Solo, Frenchman]:
Solo exits quickly and quietly from the Randolph with Rachel in tow. His senses prickled as he approached their borrowed ride, the mirrored glass of the Toyota Elite luxury sedan giving a clear view of the smartly suited black guy with long greying dreds that has pushed himself off the wall where he had been smoking a cigarette. A subtle glance in his direction reveals that his eyes are unfocused and Solo recognises the look of someone either riding a BTL trip, or more likely in this instance, perceiving the astral realm…
As Mel departed from a side entrance a small hover drone detaches itself from the adjacent building and begins to follow her at a discrete distance down the side alley…
The Lady smiled at the Frenchman’s query, “oh yes, I am enjoying myself, you are quite the dancer…” and then she gets the faraway look in her eye of someone receiving an AR message “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me a moment…”
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination]:
Hustling past the now downed staff member the team are into the understated opulence of North Oxford living. Subtle stone flooring underfoot somehow manages to mute your footfalls despite its apparent hardness. The walls are lined with real timber panels, not some cheap AR facsimile, and the staircase rising ahead of you is a stark contrast in modern glass and steel…
A head appears over the balustrade above the team “Dave? Who is it…?” the boy…target number one…too easy!...?
***
#13
-
Abandoning stealth for surprise, Smiley is moving with the first word. Taking two steps, he leaps onto the handrail, using it as a boost to grab onto and flip up to the second floor, landing in a defensive crouch.
Crazy flipping move upstairs (Agility 9(5) + Gymnastics 3) (http://orokos.com/roll/297557): 2#12d6t5 5 4
:o 8) :-*
-
Those that look into the void have to be careful that the void would not look back into them. By looking into the astral the awakened opens himself to subtle astral influence. If that dude is indeed looking into the astral my spirit can discreetly mess his mind. Somehow Melissa the spirit knew what to do, it was almost as if it was her idea. Distract him thought Solo. Before he could finish the spirit approached the dred man in the astral saying:
“I am the most beautiful creature you have ever seen... forget everything that you do... go to room 217 and make love to me.”
[spoiler]
Influence (http://orokos.com/roll/297549): 16d6t5 7
16d6t5: 7 [16d6t5=6, 5, 5, 3, 4, 6, 2, 1, 2, 5, 6, 5, 3, 1, 3, 2]
[/spoiler]
Solo was a bit shock about the spirit's interpretation to "distract him"...
"You could have just sent him to the toilet or something... but I guess it counts as a distraction... " thought Solo. He waited for just a little bit to see if the awakened dude will bait.
[spoiler]
Obviously if he is not looking into the astral - this post needs to be edited - the spirit cannot work her mind tricks without materializing.
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team
Dreck, this is getting out of hand, need to act FAST!
Sorting through the smartlinks Snow Crash locates the assault rifle and gets to work, filaments of code working to ease a mark. The quickest thing he could think to do was take advantage of the smartlink system and get it to eject the clip. It's only buy the a couple of seconds, but seconds counted.
[spoiler]Hack on the Fly - readied Assault Riffle.
Hacking 6 + Logic 8 + Device Specialization 2 + Hot Sim 2 - Running Silent 2
Noise Reduction: Wireless Datajack bonus - 1, Signal Scrubber -2
Hack on the Fly against Assault Rifle (http://orokos.com/roll/297603): 16d6t5 4 hits
dreck... have to assuming he's running a good comlink so declare Edge to reroll failures
Hack on the Fly against Assault Rifle, Edge re-roll (http://orokos.com/roll/297604): 12d6t5 5
Total hits, 9, Sleaze limit 7.
Control Device - Smartgun system, Eject Clip. Free Action, marks required 1. Declaring final use of Edge, Push the Limit.
Electronic Warfare 4 + Intuition 5 + Edge 5 + Hotsim 2 - Running Silent 2
Noise Reduction: Wireless Datajack bonus - 1, Signal Scrubber -2
Control Device, Eject Clip - Push the Limit (http://orokos.com/roll/297606): 14d6t5 3 hits, 2 6s
Control Device, Eject Clip - Push the Limit, 6s reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/297607): 2d6t5 1
Total Hits, 4[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al was directly across the atrium when he saw Isaint put their quarry down.
He wished he could be more confident the man would stay down, but there was nothing for that right now.
He kept running in the same direction - he still wanted to clear this level of the parapet of any sleepers before they stacked up outside the target door, and it was now just as close to keep going.
-
<<@unkonwn runner: Correction, that's three unconscious chummers. Final chance: Let the Dr. go and I'll let you go.>>
Isaint changed the channel to exclude the opposition:
<<@Snow Crash: Can you give us any kind of surveillance from within the office? Do you have a bead on the hostage taker?>>
Carefully he went closer to the office door, still prepared for a surprise attack.
...
When he had finally reached the room, he drew the taser and a tiny mirror on a telescope stick. With trained careful movements he found a gap where he could see into the office.
When he entered, he would have only one shot. He would have to make it count.
[spoiler]
@Aria
I'm not sure if I got this right: Is the hostage taker identical with Foe #1 or does Foe #1 lie somewhere outside behind some cover?
If it's the second, I'll edit my post accordingly.
In any case, I assume we are for the moment outside combat rounds.
Attribute Boost Drain AGI: Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/297617): 10d6t5 4 [10d6t5=2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 1, 2, 1, 5, 2] no drain
Attribute Boost Drain BOD: Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/297618): 10d6t5 4 [10d6t5=5, 1, 6, 6, 4, 2, 5, 1, 3, 3] no drain
Once at the office, Isaint activates hightened concentration and while checking with the mirror, he again tries to boost AGI:
AGI Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/297620): 7d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
-
@ MainTeam"Sirens inbound I Wont have a chance in hell holdin' em off hows about we get everyone out" Duke starts tearing down his terracotta and putting it in the carrying bag. He slings it over his shoulder and prepares to run for his bike, knowing if he gets caught with A sniper rifle he is fragged."Ok Jackhammer here's how i see it, either we go after the target and maybe get pinned down by the Cops or we find somewhere else to help from. I doubt we can make it to their side in time to assist with the Hostage Situation so run in for em and help em make it out? Or be terrible people and tactically retreat and not get paid for this drek. "course i need to help em so i get paid, guess ill take the chance losing my bike maybe ill pick it up later."Lowers down rope to rappel down, looks at Jackhammer"Well I'm Going in I was hired to make sure they got out and thats what im doing."
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team Condition 3 Stun, -1 penalty
Fraggin great, Target in a hostage situation and now we got sirens inbound, fuck it
<<All, I'm taking up a position on the stairs,I'll be within easy reach of saint and Al>>
Daddy continued to about midway up the stairs before hunkering down and keeping an eye on Isaint and the targets door
Seras, What did you see in there? daddy quietly hissed to the waiting hound
-
<<Mel where are you? Drake's on the the move.>>
<<Solo, status?>>
Milady, something wrong? May I be of assistance? He told the young looking woman/Drake.
-
Solo texts Frenchman, cc mel.<< there are a pair of magic eyes in here improvised somthing... lets see how it pays out. Try buying me as much time as you can. Will update soon.>>
He then texts Snow:
<<magic hacker is doing somthing... probobly our ruse. Do you guys need anything?>>
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, 〜 23:35, Outside the Randolph Hotel, Oxford]
<Just got out, I have a drone in tow. Don't let Magic Eyes make you, Solo> sent Mel to her teammates, as she tried to situate herself to the entrance, just in case she had to come around and lend a hand.
-
Solo texts back... <<So their eyes are on you... I'd suggest you take them for a spin thorough town... I hope it will be alright with the magic eyes... >> But the spirit seems a bit difficult to control... charming in her own way... Solo almost envied that awakened dude for receiving such a booty call. He haven't seen her in the material plane yet, but she might as well be very pretty.
For some odd reason... spirits always tried to impress Solo... doing just a little bit extra, asking questions about his personal life. He never got deep enough... spirits have an habit for giving obscure answers when faced with questions about what they are and why do they find him interesting.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Rounding the last corner of his circuit and seeing no other active hostiles, Al slowed down and walked quietly up to the door to the target's office, positioning himself flat against the wall on the other side of the doorway from Isaint.
Though his focus was mainly on the room and his co-worker, he made sure to keep eyes on the guy on the floor in the doorway, as well as the guy with the grenade launcher the ork had dropped a ways back on the balcony. They were down for now, but no possum-playing play-actor was going to make a fool of Al.
-
The awakened suited dreads dude seemed to be following the spirit to to the room. Solo used the distraction to enter the car and start driving. <<moving>> he texted. It has been a long time since he was in such a fancy car. He checked the mirrors and tried to figure out if they were being followed.
-
Isaint moved the mirror carefully around and over the fallen runner that blocked the door to the office. He didn't like one bit what he saw. He pulled back the mirror and was about to use tactical gestures to Al and Daddy before he remembered that a) he wasn't with the KSK and b) they all had perfectly functional DNI communication:
<<Two looking towards the door, one of them has the doctor and threatens him with a pistol. A third looks out of the window. I can't see if that's the rigger or another specialist. If it's a rigger he should have a bit of trouble right now to get through my jammer at this distance.
We have to attack them simultaneously. I'll take the hostage taker, Al, you can take the other one. Use as much force as you want, but don't hurt the hostage. Daddy, let your spirit take the distracted one. It might be a mage, but in that case he will be at least trained to take care of the magic problem and not target us.
I'll would use a flash bang for a dynamic entry, but that might hurt the doctor. Does anyone of you have first aid skills, so we could get him back up if he gets hurt? I've only got a stim patch to get him functional again, but all in all I'd like to avoid this option.
What do you say?>>
-
[Jackhammer -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Mathematics Institute on Observatory roof with Duke - Main Extraction team - Current condition 0 damage - packing up bow]
Aaron slings his bow and puts the drawn arrow back in. "I forgot the blues won't be on our side." he responded to Duke. Clearly this was a whole different animal from security work.
"This might actually suit me better, once I get the hang of it." he thought to himself. Pulling out his commlink, he re-read a recent flurry of messages. He responded.
<< [Duke, Isaint, Daddy] Saint, if you can't get through the door I can install a new one for you wherever you want. Say the word. >>
With his message sent, he put his comm back away and began climbing down.
[spoiler]11[/spoiler]
-
<<Appreciate the thought, Jackhammer, but we need the hostage alive and we don't want any more attention from the law than absolutely necessary. But it would be a good idea, if you get in position outside of the office, ready to perforate any would be escapees or reinforcements. I've left an AR marker for you, so you can find the window.>>
Isaint concentrated again on his team members:
<<Ok, what we do is called a dynamic entry: We move crosswise into the room with such speed, that the opposition has no chance to react before we are completely inside. The pattern is 1: me-left, 2: Al-right, 3: Spirit-left, 4: Daddy-you open the door and secure the entrance.
I'll set a countdown for each of you. Start moving when you see the star, not before and not any later. If we do this precisely, it will overwhelm them.>>
[spoiler]
Ok, for all who don't have access to R&G:
To perform a Combat Maneuver Test, the designated leader needs to have the Small Unit Tactics Knowledge skill. They roll a Small Unit Tactics + Intuition Test. Any team members who also have the Small Unit Tactics skill can join on a teamwork test (or they can default on the test, making an Intuition – 1 Test), making a roll and applying their hits per the teamwork tests rule.
DYNAMIC ENTRY, STANDARD
Successes required: 4
Description: First developed by law-enforcement tactical response teams for use against barricaded subjects and/or in hostage situations, the standard Dynamic Entry tactic is to suddenly fill a confined area with overwhelming force and neutralize the threat. In a rare case of military adapting law enforcement tactics, the Dynamic Entry has become commonplace in small-scale, urban military actions. With Dynamic entry the team first “stacks up” outside the entrance(s) to the confined and/or barricaded position, out of sight of their target. On signal they enter fast—[...]Standard practice is for the team to go through in pairs, breaking left and right as they cross the threshold, until everyone is through. [...]As each pair enters, the team spreads along the perimeter of the room so each has a clear field of fire. The team leader is responsible for assigning positions in the line and selecting which direction they go in. The last team member who opened the door secures the entrance.
Benefits: If the attacking team breaches before they are seen by defenders, they receive a +3 attack modifier. If their approach and breach is known, the bonus is only +1.
So, if you want, you can make a INT-1 test to support Isaint
Oh, and depending on your desicion, we'll do it with or without a flash bang first through the door
Small Unit Tactics (http://orokos.com/roll/298003): 15d6t5 7
Yeah, you don't really need to do those rolls...
37
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Trying to watch two prone foes and Isaint all at once, Al listened to the computer-generated voice in his ear as his commlink translated the other operator's texted plan into audible words. Start moving when you see the star? Sheee-it. Bunch of damned SWAT-wannabe frippery. But the unshaven little man grit his teeth, swallowed hard, and thust one burn-melted hand into his pocket to toggle his link's feed to his eyes - the world swam and he bit back on the urge to vomit.
But there it was all diagrammed out for him - easy peasy.
He subvocalized into his mic, which would route voice or text back through his 'link, depending on the receiver's set-up: <<Use the flash. And go now - seconds count, kemo sabe.>>
-
<<Ok. We go in. 5...>>
Isaint concentrated while he took a flashbang with his left hand, while his right held the Defiance-Ex
<4>
He primed the grenade for impact and again called on the power of St. George to guide his hand. Amazingly this time the saint listened.
<3>
He tossed the grenade through the ajar door
<2>
A loud bang and a blinding light within the office
<1>
<<Execute *>>
Isaint took point and was through the door before the magnesium of his grenade had even burned out.
[spoiler]
Ok, as mentioned: activated Hightened Concern (Reduce penalty from one source by 3)
activated Attribute Boost AGI (3)
Toss grenade: Grenade (http://orokos.com/roll/298024): 9d6t5 5 [9d6t5=1, 6, 1, 5, 6, 6, 2, 6, 1]
Explodes on impact at far end of the room
10 S AP-4 to everyone inside (10m radius), sorry Doc :-[ ::)
Charge into room, aim and fire taser with a vital shot at the hostage takers head:
AGI 8 (boosted)+Pistols 8 (Taser)+1(Dynamic entry, expected) +1 Lasersight +1 Aim -1 (vital shot with Hightened Concern)+Edge 5= 23 Dice
Lucky Taser Shot (http://orokos.com/roll/298029): 23d6t5 8 [23d6t5=4, 6, 3, 3, 3, 6, 2, 6, 3, 6, 3, 3, 3, 1, 5, 5, 2, 5, 6, 4, 1, 3, 1]
Rerolls: Rerolls (http://orokos.com/roll/298031): 5d6t5 0
Damage 11S AP-5 + 8 Successes
[/spoiler]
-
While driving Solo nervously looks in the mirrors and try to find a pursuer... Nothing... everything seems to be in order. He did not remember exactly who came up with the plan but his teammates seemed to be quite brilliant tacticians. No news were good news - as he already reported that he is moving.
He knew that the main asset extraction got complicated, but he hoped that at least the wife and kids could be extracted without violence. After all any goon can break some skulls, but it take planning and brilliant execution to achieve your goal without excessive force.
He texted Mel and Frenchman just in case they'll need more details.
<< Magic eyes got distracted he is in room 217... he is probobly naked. That spirit turned out to be quite a charmer... without even materializing.>>
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al followed Isaint in as directed, and it all went down just like on Tales of the Red Samurai, only faster. The guy by the window was still moving, so Al put one in his head without risking any of his own people's lives by bothering to care what he was doing. Hostage-taking coward.
The doc was groaning on the floor - didn't look like he was going anywhere under his own power without some serious chemical assistance. Al had patches in his pocket if no one else took care of it first. But two things that were more interesting at the moment were just inside and some distance outside the office window.
Crouching behind a big potted plant, Al pointed at the anchored ropes and det cord and said, "Well, looks like we got an exit all set up here for us. Trouble is," he added, squinting into the night, "less I miss my guess, that drone out there's the local law, an' headed this way."
-
Isaint retrieved the barbed taser darts from the face of the would be hostage-taker. One from the cheek, one from his lip.
'Sorry, but you had your chance.'
He trusted his comrades to secure the room while he applied a stim patch on the doctors exposed neck.
While he waited for him to wake up, he looked around for a moment. to Al's comment he said:
<<"To messy for my taste. I don't want to climb with a barely conscious person on my back. Let's just bug out the way we came in. We can detonate this rig when we are at the other side. That should give us enough diversion to make it out.
@Snow we need extraction on the south side.
@Duke and Jackhammer: Prepare for interference: If you can do so safely, try to attract their attention and then vanish.
@Wife and Kids extraction teams: We have our subject. Do you need assistance?>>
While he said this, he attached a data tap to the detonator, allowing Snow Crash to access their diversion.
"Ok, guys, the saints watched over us on this. Let's not waste their effort and get away before this building lights up. Watch my back while I carry that guy"
With that he stashed his weapons and other gear and heaved the doctor onto his shoulders like a hunter would carry a deer.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al nodded and, once Isaint had the data tap in the detonator, he gave the set-up a quick check to make sure the dead guy had indeed completed his work. Then, satisfied, he tied the corpse to its own rappel line and leaned it against the window.
Then he checked the other two inert forms in the room, the one by the desk, the other in the door. Those without pulses joined their companion by the window. Of those that did have pulses, any that stirred at all got a rifle butt to the head.
Then he hefted his Remingon and took up rear guard behind Isaint, keeping an extra close eye on grenade boy out on the balcony.
-
"So the main team got their guy... but with that high profile extraction it is just the beginning. They need to disappear before the police gets involved." Knowing that their ruse will not last for long Solo keeps silent. He’ll let Frenchman and Mel with their DNI’s to figure out how discreet they want to be, but currently alone with the mark Solo feels vulnerable and with the other team opening fire - he is not sure how much chatter will help, and stealth seems to be his best option for the meanwhile as the car distance itself from oxford towards the open road.
He picks up Rachel’s burner and turn it off. Right now it is just his deck disguised as a regular comlink. The deck is his only communication to the outside world and he feels that stealth is the best defense when you are alone. Frenchman and Mel know how sensitive their situation is better than him... he got other concerns right now to get Rachel to safely preferably without any combat stories.
-
<<Mel, I think Solo is clear. Let's make our exit. Drake's probably on your tail now too.>> The Frenchman hasted his speed to meet back with Mel. The flying drone was going to be an issue without a gun t take it down.
<<Step back inside, that'll confused the drone. I'm right behind.>>
-
The slender elven woman discreetly read Frenchman's message and decided to get back into the hotel, trying to avoid giving any good face shots to the flying drone that was following her. Once back inside, she quickly sent a message to confirm both her location and that she had gotten the previous message sent to her.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Following target in his Jackrabbit - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim Chasing after car now- Maintaining CF on servent's commlink via focused concentration - Switching to Silent
Trailing after the car was a difficult task to say the least, when it was only reliant on the whole dog brain pilot. Tobbis had two machine sprites waiting in the wings to cover it, but sadly even they wouldn't be able to make the thing functional beyond simple directions.
realizing this, he began to come up with an idea. He'd need to trace the commlink. It was tricky, because of that giant eyeball in the sky overhead, watching, waiting for some hacker to slip up, and then down comes the foot of god on them. He'd rather not experience that himself.
While floating behind his car, watching the icons of the world of the matrix wiz and spin around him, the changeling focused his mind to the task. He was going to have to slip in carefully and quietly. Tracking the position of the commlink. If nothing else, he was going to follow the target, cause his three foot tall self wasn't going to be dragging any teen out of any vehicle.
[spoiler]24th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
Doing a very simple hack for this first job.
Hack on the Fly (http://orokos.com/roll/298612): 13d6t5 4 13d6t5: 4 [13d6t5=6, 6, 5, 1, 6, 4, 4, 4, 3, 4, 3, 3, 4]
[/spoiler]
-
Solo texts Mel and Franchman << I seem to be safe for the moment - you should get out fast... at least get to the car with your guns... you are vulnerable and may be captured soon. If there is a drone tracking Rachel runners will soon follow... and the other team are the "shot first ask questions later" type. Also there is an additional spirit service - if you require anything...>>
They may have something implemented and probobly have all these internal armor stuff but nobody like to be pieced with bullets.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Isaint reached the door with his burden without apparent problems. The doc was slowly regaining consciousness and blabbed groggily something Isaint couldn't really understand as a non-native speaker.
<<Snow, we are at the door. Be a dear and blow up that rig those amateurs installed. Also, we need that car now. The operation zone is getting hot, I can hear the sirens.>>
The adrenaline still flooded through his veins and he had to fight down the euphoria for having successfully rescued the doctor. He knew that they were still very much in danger and the other teams had to bring down their own quarries first, so he could claim his payday.
To Al he said: "You are pretty quick on your feet and I noticed a whiff of magic on you. Are you an adept by any chance?"
[spoiler]
40
[/spoiler]
-
Aaron sees the message across his image link and shakes his head as he moves to enter the Maths building. "Distraction just isn't my gig."
He is stopped in his tracks as he meets Isaint at the door. "Sorry, I don't have any noise-makers or voo-doo magic. That's not what I was hired for." Aaron says, indicating his bow. "And I think having me solve the drone problem is a real bad way to do it."
-
"Nice to meet you in the flesh. Don't worry, the distraction is taken care of remotely. We don't want to do more damage than necessary. It does you no good and just ups your place on the law's shit list.
That said: I read from the hotel team that there is a drake around. My patron and me will make an exception in that regard. Have your bow ready for a heart shot."
Isaint grinned behind his mask.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
"Alouicious Harlan Guthrie, esquire. Pleased ta meetcha," Al said, extending a burn-melted pay to the archer.
That was all the time there was for pleasantries - they had to keep moving. And he was still a bit bemused by his earlier exchange with Isaint.
"You are pretty quick on your feet and I noticed a whiff of magic on you. Are you an adept by any chance?" the human-looking ork had asked.
"What, ya mean like one o' them keeb ball players?" was all that Al could think to answer. He'd been called a hell of a lot of things in his day, but no one had ever mistaken him for a dandelion eater.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, North Oxford. Kid Extraction Team
When Smiley sees the boy is alone on the second floor, he quickly morphs from combatant to charismatic cool guy, "Hey bud, William right? Your dad sent me to get you, he is changing jobs and he wants to make sure guys are with him, Have you seen the Jenny Freelance trid where she gets the scientist out of that Arcology? This is like that, so we gotta get going, do you know where Natasha is headed? We gotta get her too. You ever rode a Harley?"
While Smiley hits the kid with the rapid patter, using the full power of his gifts to keep him off balance, he takes the boy's arm and is taking him downstairs as he feels the drain of wolf spirit leaving him.
Smiley befriends kid (http://orokos.com/roll/298838): 13d6t5 4
Resisting Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/298840): 8d6t5 5
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford Local Grid. Primary Extraction Team
Well.. THAT was unexpected, not seen many runners able to pull of that kind of maneuver.
Through the various feeds of his crewmates Snow Crash watches the breach unfold, feeling somewhat disconnected and not entirely useful. He picks up quickly on the new datatap and also notices the police chatter in the Matrix.
Isaint to Snow <<Snow, we are at the door. Be a dear and blow up that rig those amateurs installed. Also, we need that car now. The operation zone is getting hot, I can hear the sirens.>>
Snow to PE crew <<Detonating now... also lemmie see if I can't do something to muddy the waters a bit.
A simple command is all it took to detonate the rig via the datatap, blowing out the window and sending the bodies leaned up against it tumbling into the streets. After that was something that every hacker tries to avoid, setting off an alarm, looking out into the matrix he tried to find every security and fire alarm in the area before sendin slivers of attack code directly into the anti-tamper code. Within seconds there's over a dozen fire, security and Matrix alarms going on in the general vicinity.
Switching rapidly back to AR he starts his deck rebooting to cover his tracks, gets the car started and drives back to the institute.
Snow to PE crew <<not entirely sure how much time that's going to give us, but at least for now they're going to be chasing their own tail sorting out which alarms are and aren't real>>
-
@main "Hey you guys still need a distraction or do ya have other things you want me to do? I'm on ground level my rifle is in my bag i still have my pistols though. Where should i head to catch up to you guys the quickest?" Starts moving to catch up with main team to provide fire support for when drek hits the oscillating turbine.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<Nice work Snow, but I fear we can't stay here to long. The drones now seem to come from every direction. According to the plans we should be able to move through the underground levels to the other buildings. I've still got one data tap and a mini welder. If you can hack our way fast enough through the different buildings we can exit away from the action.
Otherwise we might have to escape while a swarm of drones follows every step we make.
What do you say, can you get us through the tunnels, or should we rather risk above ground?>>
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, 〜23:40, Randolph Hotel, Oxford]
Once back inside the hotel, Mel looked around for a laundry basket or food cart or any other object that would inconspicuously move around that could hold Rachel's commlink without being readily discovered. She then hid the device as best as she could under the circumstances and headed to the nearest bathroom where she would revert to her old looks.
[spoiler]Perception to find a vehicle for the commlink. Perception 〜 Intuition 5 + Perception 6 + Visual 2 + Hawk Eye 1 + Vision Enhancement 3 + Actively Looking 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/299192): 20d6t5 3 no glitches. This roll sucks :(
Then a roll to quickly hide the commlink. Palming 〜 Stealth Group 3 + Agility 10 (http://orokos.com/roll/299196): 13d6t5 4 no glitches[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Snow to PE crew <<Should be able to get you through, I'll rendezvous with you in the car. Al, you might want to get the other vehicles moving there, be sure to take separate routs, the last thing we want right now is empty vehicles driving in convoy. Drive normal and under electrics only.>>
Trying to control his nerves Snow Crash then did about the only thing he could with police drones in the area, flipped on his comlink and made sure it was displaying his fake SIN while keeping the cyberdeck hidden and switching off all his non-essential augmentations. This done he starts to job of driving like a normal citizen while using AR to hack access through the tunnels for the rest of his crew.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Following target in his Jackrabbit - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in VR in Hot-Sim Chasing after car now- Maintaining CF on servent's commlink via focused concentration - Switching to Silent
Soon coming to where they were at, he pulls over and into a local parking lot, grumbling as he switches from VR to AR. One hour. Thats how long he had till he could reboot his brain and clear his overwatch. One day he might get better, but today wasn't that day just yet.
Getting out of the car was a bit of a trip for the short little man. He wasn't much bigger than a dwarf, in fact a dwarf might even be bigger than he was. But he wasn't about to just let the target get away, though at the same time, he couldn't do much to get her.
<<To all - I have Eyes on the Girl, but I'm in something deep here. If Team one got hit, there is a good chance I'm getting hit here as well and I'm not sure you guys noticed, but I'm not the most fierce lookin thing around. I'm near the bloody hotel to boot. Though, there is lots of people here. >>
[spoiler]24th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
Machine Sprite Running Diagonistics on Armor (http://orokos.com/roll/299048): 10d6t5 3 10d6t5: 3 [10d6t5=4, 5, 6, 1, 4, 1, 5, 2, 3, 2]
Machine Sprite Running Diagonistics on Mask (http://orokos.com/roll/299049): 10d6t5 3 10d6t5: 3 [10d6t5=2, 4, 6, 4, 6, 4, 5, 1, 1, 2]
Tobbis Sneaking Check (http://orokos.com/roll/299051): 15d6t5 4 15d6t5: 4 [15d6t5=2, 2, 6, 1, 5, 4, 6, 3, 5, 3, 2, 4, 1, 4, 2]
And continuing his job from before.. Lets do snoop first.
Snoopy (http://orokos.com/roll/299338): 11d6t5 3
Again, I've got anti-noise stuff to get through the hustle and bustle of the day.
[/spoiler]
-
Kid Extraction team, now in Oxford
Smiley moves the boy and the other adept to the van as quickly as possible. Once there, Smiley links up with Tobbis and begins to working his way to the girl as quickly, but casually as possible, one more tourist looking for a party.
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
<<Much obliged, we'll be on our way Snow. I just hope our maps are up to date.>>
"Ok boys, you've heard it. We go into the tunnels to avoid this swarm of drones outside. Let's move."
"Oh, what is happening, where am I?"
"Ah, Doctor, you are with us again. Great, if I may introduce ourselves, we are your extraction team. Your family is also collected as we speak. Now please be silent for the moment and let us work and everything will work out without a hitch."
"Ahem, could you let me down, maybe?"
"Later. You probably still have a bit of a ringing in your ears and your coordination will be affected. We move faster if we keep the current arrangement."
Without waiting for a further reply, Isaint moved towards the sublevel. Once there he looked for the connecting door and followed it to a locked part.
After applying the mini welder and setting up his last data tap, he waited until Snow Crash had opened the door and carried on.
He repeated the procedure four more times until the team reached the exit of a different university building.
"There is our cab. Now doc, try to walk yourself, I'll be at your side to keep you upright."
-
After a few tense minutes of driving undisturbed Solo begun to relax just a little bit. He try to talk to Rachel, break the ice a little bit. If things will get complicated it is good if she feels like she trust him. He say: “We seem to be in the clear, I am taking you to a safehouse to be united with your family... I’d actually love to hear more about you and the thing that is happening in Boston... I just wanted to keep it business until I believed you were safe...”
-
The Frenchman waited for Mel outside the bathroom. It was time to get a quick escape and he had a new direction to go.
<<Copy that Tobi. Ping us your coordinates, I'll grab the car and get to you.>>
<< Solo, Bring R. to safety, wherever that is.>>
The Frenchman kept very alert, looking around to see if opposition would show up. The trio had never worked together but they had all cooperated and coordinated very nicely. If they were free of trouble, they had to give a hand to help grab the younger Girl now.
As soon as Mel is out, he offered his arm and chit chat how nice the event was organized and how sorry he was that She was not feeling well. (Yeah, pure lies, in case someone listens). His plan is to go to the room they have booked. The best hiding place is right under people's nose. From there, he activated the ARO to display the Do Not Disturb tag. He checked the window to see if the street below was quiet. The building being old, it wouldn't be too hard of a climb down, the Frenchman reckoned.
-
Smiley reaches back into his bag of tricks, even though he has gotten used to it, sometimes his luck is even enough to amaze him. Picking up a girl in a club? Is it possible he is really going to get paid to this? 8)
Moving smoothly through the crowd, he makes a spot for himself near the pair and scopes out the scene, initially his gaze moving past them noticeably, but then returning. Catching the eye of the waitress/bartender and holds up a credstick, making sure the silver band catches the light, then motions for a round of drinks for himself and the pair's table. Trading the stick for the drinks, he tells them to keep it coming and arrives at the table gifts in hand.
"Hey there, you guys look like you know a few things, care to help an out-of-towner have a good time? I'll buy and we'll all fly, what do you say?" Smiley's puts on his most infectious grin and joins them, "You guys go to the university right?"
[spoiler]Forgot to put this in before Smiley befriends the young couple (http://orokos.com/roll/299521): 13d6t5 4[/spoiler]
-
Sarah had been following Smiley the entire time, keeping her distance the entire time. If Smiley could charm the two, no problem. If he couldn't, he wouldn't likely need help to take care of a pair of university students. Unless they turned out to be tougher than either of them thought.
>>To Tobias
>>Smiley seems to have this under control. How are the other teams doing?
-
Solo re texts Frenchman: <<For now... lets keep it at whatever it is... I am afraid that the drake may be able to read minds or hack comlinks and there is also some awakened dude enjoying himself in my rented room... who knows what he is capable of doing. If you do not know where we are - no magic or decking will be able to steal it from you. Buzz me if you need help... I could still do something for you with spirits or matrix. When you distance yourself from the hotel ping me I'd love some extra security.>>
Just to be sure, Solo reset his deck. He do not think that he was identified as a threat to be hacked, but being a bit paranoid never hurts.
-
[Wednesday June 17th, 2076, ~23:43, Various Locations, Oxford]
@Main Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Duke, Jackhammer]:
Clear, about fragging time too! The night air, surprisingly fresh for a modern city, greats your lungs like a balm. The sirens are in the distance, your rides are within spitting distance and you have the good doctor in tow! Now, just time to rendezvous with the others and make your way back to London town to Art’s safehouse, drop off and pay day!
@Randolph Team [Solo]:
The car is a pleasure to drive, where it’s not driving itself anyway, and you cruise away from the scene without a hitch. As far as you can tell your tail is clear…
@North Oxford Team [Smiley, Tobis, Hallucination, Mel, Frenchman]:
"Hey there, you guys look like you know a few things, care to help an out-of-towner have a good time? I'll buy and we'll all fly, what do you say?" Smiley's puts on his most infectious grin and joins them, "You guys go to the university right?"
Natasha is clearly underage, despite her poor fake SIN proclaiming her to be eighteen, the hotpants and the ‘next to nothing clothing’, and her beau is not much older but they seem pleased with the compliment, if a little flustered about being approached in the first place…then Smiley can see with the flicker of an eye the pleasure turning to angst and then anger…
“Fuck off will you? We’re busy” the voice is hissed, not enough to draw the attention of anyone around you…at least for now…!
***
#14
-
[Wednesday, June 17th, 2076, 〜 23:45, Randolph Hotel, Oxford]
After removing her disguise and reverting to what she was first wearing when she got in the hotel, Mel got out and took Frenchman's arm. Walking a bit, she suddenly told him that she wasn't feeling so well and the pair made their way to the room they had rented.
"Guess we'll have to help the others before we get to play" said the slender elf, a wink and a smile playfully displayed on her face as she looked down the window. She didn't like the idea of climbing down a building, but she liked bumping into that unpleasant drake again even less. So once everything was set up, she climbed down, thankful they hadn't booked the penthouse suite for the night.
The brown-haired woman passed the railing and let herself fall, seemingly into the night. Peeking over the edge revealed that she had actually precisely calculated her fall, using the balcony from the floor below to deflect her motion and project her onto an alcove on the third floor. In an instant, she turned around and launched herself back down, using a ledge on the second floor to break her momentum before graciously landing on the ground floor, waiting for the Frenchman to join her.
[spoiler]Roll to climb down: Climbing Down 〜 Agility 10 + Gymnastics 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/299834): 14d6t5 3 no glitches. I don't really like this, so I'll spend an edge to roll failures. Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/299835): 11d6t5 5 now that's better. Physical limit of 7, so that fills that 7. I have allowed myself to make it seem like she did it like a pro, but if the GM would prefer otherwise, I'll gladly edit :)[/spoiler]
-
"Yeah, about that..." Smiley dropped the nice guy thing and went into soldier/cop voice, "Natasha, did you really think that using a fake ID was going to let you come and get your party on less than 100 meters from the hotel your mother, Rachel, is at? Your 'date' is over." Smiley straightens up and puts a hand on the girl's elbow, and puts his magic (Commanding Voice) into his next words, "Come with me, we are leaving now."
[spoiler]
Charisma 6 + Intimidation 6 + Cool Resolve 1 + Commanding Voice 1 - Extra Person (the boy) 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/299851): 13d6t5 4
Edge reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/299852): 9d6t5 3
7 total, Social limit is 6[/spoiler]
-
Isaint brought the doctor quickly to the waiting car and shoved him into the back seat. He took the time to unload his rifle and stashed it under the seats togehter with the rest of his equipment. The secure tec armor + forearm guards followed. The mask he took off, but stashed it in his coat pocket.
He waited until Al and Daddy had found their seats and took one himself in the back.
To Duke and Jackhammer he said: "The other car should be here shortly, do you think you've been spotted doing something illegal, or can you wait here? Otherwise you can have my place in the car and I'll wait.
In any case, I'll fetch my bike so I can ride guard and run interference if necessary."
[spoiler]44[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Once the doctor was in the car, Al stood outside and spoke in a low voice to Isaint: "Mathamagician there's in a right state, an' worse when he comes off'n that stim. My van's right around the corner - room there fer Daddy ta fix 'im up while I drive, an' a hidey hole with a respirator in it fer if the law stops us."
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Isaint nodded. "Good. But it's a strong stim. It will take an hour to wear off. As far as I know, magic won't help with fatigue, only with real damage. A good medkit on the other hand will do nicely. I'll leave him in your capable hands."
-
Driving on the open road... Rachel was awfully silent, probobly she understands by now that despite his pleasant appearance Solo is a dangerous criminal and did not want to talk. His mind wondered... he was capable on handling himself in a combat - he was fast and a good shot - with access to magic and powerful spirits not an easy target, but he knew his limitations. He was not augmented and lightly armored and an unlucky doge and he is finished, alone with nobody to help him he could not afford combat on the way back. He hoped that Frenchman and Mel would reestablish contact but he knew how to trust on his own.
He texted a loyal contact of him, Mike Greenbeg, a cooperate Spider gone independent. He was good Decker by Solo's standards... to Solo good Decker's were not hyper skilled professionals with balls of steel like Snow - they were the kind that knew their limitations and were modest enough to stay under the radar. Patient enough to slowly increase their influence. Clearly, Solo himself was not a good Decker by his own standards, he was a Shadowrunner he needed that mark *now*- and where his stealth let him down things became messy, he escaped narrowly more than once. But mike - outside of Ares nobody knew mike , when he gone rouge he managed to strike a deal - relative freedom in exchange for silently cooperating with Ares.
Despite that loyalty, Solo knew that he could trust mike for a Deseret purchase he did not have to report everything to Ares, just the big stuff.
<<Mikie!... I need an okay RCC and a couple of basic drones with good autosofts. Sending you the details for pickup. >>
He say to Rachel : " I get it... you are stressed... but soon you are going to see how I do shopping... I am a nice kind of guy taking you shopping on your special day. Speaking of special days... I am sort of getting hitched tonight... will never be alone again, till death do us part. It is not a terribly long commitment in my profession, but that's as good as it gets " He laugh.
[spoiler]
Instead of driving directly to London - that is the predictable next step Solo is driving to Thame. To find a coffin motel and wait for his flying drones delivery, or contact from Mel and Frenchaman. Being careful and knowing that the other team may know that they are headed back to London he does not want to risk it on the obvious roads.
[/spoiler]
-
Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Al nodded. "Git that bike - I like the idear of an outrider." He then climbed into the Americar, patted Snow on the shoulder, and asked him to just head up and around the corner to where they had all originally been parked.
His Beamer was a block away, but it didn't look like they'd need it, and auto-towing it would only complicate things. He'd leave it, come back for it once the job was done. Climbing out of the Americar, he helped the professor out, and said, "Daddy, yer with me. You fellers," he said to Duke and Jackhammer, "are welcome to stay with Snow here or stay with me, but Spike rides shotgun."
He popped the back of the the non-descript white panel van - the sort that was ubiquitous on the streets of London - to reveal a spacious interior with bench seats on both sides atop rows of metal storage compartments. Spike was there, but a terse word in a strange guttural language sent the giant black hound back up to the front. "Up ya go, doc," he said, and climbed up himself.
Once inside, he opened one of the compartments and hauled out a high-end medkit, laid it on a seat. "Ya know how ta use that?" he asked Daddy. "If not, it'll pretty much run itself in a pinch." Then he pulled something from his pocket and laid it beside the medical gear. "Once you get him feelin' more like hisself, start in with this," he added, referring to the tag eraser. "Wipe 'im good an' clean."
Once everyone that was coming with them was on board, he pulled out, spoof chip and plates set to his primary ID, broadcasting the minimum legally-allowed PAN for the vehicle from safely behind the firewall of his Fairlight.
Once on the road, he spoke a message to the team: <<@All - primary secure an' en route. Reckon I'm all fer safety in numbers - wouldn't wanna git ambushed onna road without back up. Y'all's call, but give a holler if'n ya wanna link up.>>
-
Isaint didn't waste any time and retrieved his Mirage, put helmet and glasses in place and made sure that his Savalette and Ruger handcannon where readily accessible. The half-automatic was now loaded with APDS, the revolver alternated between gel and APDS.
He was just ready when Al's message came. He replied:
<<Roger that. I'll follow you and keep an eye open.
@all: Primary extraction team rolls out. Can I get a status update from you other teams. Do you have your subjects or do any of you need assistance?>>
-
Keeping one eye on Smiley Sarah hurriedly tried to send a message. Inexpert fingers made her glad for Spellcheck.
>>To: All
>>Definitely safety in numbers. Mission is dependent on all of them getting to London safely. We lose one, we don't get paid at all. Splitting will just mmke us easier targets. Besides, the family might appreciate being together. We have the boy, trying to get the girl. She's unwilling at the moment. Shouldn't be a problem though.
Sarah made her way through the crowd to where Smiley and the girl were. "No need to be afraid Natasha. Your parents hired us to make sure that nothing happened to you. But something happened to your mother, and we need to get you to your parents right now. And your boyfriend." Sarah said, hoping that Smiley would get the message that leaving a witness behind might be a problem. Especially if he called the police. If he came along, they could just knock him out and dump him somewhere safe. Also that they needed to get this show on the road quickly. The less time the opposition had to figure things out and get organized, the better.
[spoiler=rolls]Con check: 5 hits (http://orokos.com/roll/299942), 1 edge for Second chance 3 more hits (http://orokos.com/roll/299947)
Post Count: 22[/spoiler]
-
A caravan... ? thought Solo... but but the police and everything. He scratched his head trying to figure out what he thinks. It sounds like a clumsy way that almost invites an ambush, but atleast they will be like a small army.
<<Sara this is Solo... How are you doing dear? I am not such a great at tactics but how about some rendezvous point on a side road? Aylsbury perhaps? it is not obviously on the way to London, we'll have to do a detour but It will be difficult to move as a big team on the main roads - they can just go to the police and cause us some serious troubles desperate people can break the rules. We could also send some of the cars as decoy on the main roads. Mel and Frenchman (in cc) are super brilliant in these things. I'll do what they tell me to do once they send me their location few kilometers from from the hotel. Please pass as much of the communication in person as you can - they are very strong technologically the other team - perhaps they have the advantage in the matrix.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Following target in his Jackrabbit - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage - in AR, heading back to car - Silent - Broadcasting from my Commlink
<<Alright, Smiley has this under control, I'm going back to my car. If any of you need a ride, and are good at driving I'll let you drive. Or I'll ride with someone else. I'm rebooting my persona. It looks like we've got the girl and boy. Now its just getting out of here that we need to do>>
He says moving his stubby little legs back to his car, clearly not the fastest person on two legs.
[spoiler]25th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
Still in stealth at 4 dice.
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:15, Soho, London]
@All teams:
A terse call to Art and you have the safehouse location. It is then only a matter of planning a circuitous route that avoids the main roads whilst avoiding some of the wilder inhabitants of the British countryside…
The area called Soho looks like it has seen better days. The buildings have plenty of graffiti covering them and what appear to be gang markings every so often. The alleys that run off either side of the main roads have plenty of activity. You see ¬firelight from 55-gallon drums emanating on shabbily clad forms down these alleys and on the street corners. In between those barrels, you can see stalls hawking different sorts of goods of all types of legality.
The scent of grilling meat permeates the air, but there are no smiling customers sitting at the tables. In fact, you wonder what kind of meat they might serve in this area.
The route takes you to a building on the corner of Dean and Fareham streets that appears to take up an entire city block. As you follow the instructions, it actually leads you down an alley on the south side of the complex, where you can see an entrance to a parking area inside the building complex. The building wraps around the parking area, which provides a nice screen from the outside world with a single vehicle entrance.
Now it’s time to get the good doctor safe inside.
***
#15
-
The Frenchman watched Mel come down gracefully from the building and he was quite impressed. Not only she was beautiful but so athletic too. She had won him over right there.
And Human nature kicking in, he had to show he was too bad at it either. He reproduced step by step Mel's descent. The technique was somehow a bit different but the skill was definitely there.
Once down, they quickly made there way to his car and en route back to London. He was happy everyone had managed to get their target.
The neighborhood was not so much a welcoming one, pretty ghetto. And his sport car and Mortimer suit was out of place for sure.
<<@All. Everyone who's not with the targets can volunteer scout the place. Vehicle with targets can keep on driving. No stopping until place is secured. >>
He looked at Mel. What do you think? Want to to check out the place? Or stay for backup for the Family's vehicles?
[spoiler]Forgat to post the roll:
Gymnastic to Climb down like Mel (http://orokos.com/roll/300329): 16d6t5 11 Now that's some display of skill!
[/spoiler]
-
[Jackhammer -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At Safehouse - Forward Scout team - Current condition 0 damage - preparing for entry]
<< [Team] If there's one thing I can do, it's securing. >>
-
Solo's contact supplied the goods, Shortly after arrived three roto-drones and three flying eyes flying in formation. That was it for Shopping he smiled at Rachel... now that we got some extra security lets go unite you with your family.
He texted Art: << Thanks for the down payment man! I'll enjoy my new toys. R said she's impressed>>
Despite speaking little, Solo managed to impress Rachel a little bit, but he was not sure if it was the reunion - or the small drone army that protected them. Far around them were the flying eyes, trying to spot any troubles before they materialize, in a tigher formation were the rotodrones, Solo knew they would not achieve much on their own but they would give the enemy something else to shoot at that is NOT Solo - and that was priceless. (Actually they were freaking expensive - but so was staying alive).
He then texted Mel and Frenchman << Check out my new toys! and attached some pictures of his small sized drone Army - I had some funds released and I saw that we have no Rigger on board... not that I am a rigger but if we are playing caravan drones can prove useful in quick response if they manage to hit anything on autopilot... it will take me a while to master this new domain... Where in the convoy do you think I should place myself?>> Solo was genuinely excited - he liked having new toys and he always wanted to be a rigger man. After all - he felt that if he train hard enough eventually he will be able to go solo in the big league and mastering drones, starting with simple rotodrones and proceeding to highly armored drones seemed like a good start.
A powerful spirit ally was also something that he wanted - he had a feeling that the particular spirit he wants as an ally would provide a lot of emotional drama... but at least he would never be truly alone with a super intelligent spirit constantly inside his head. Solo knew that it is not brute force, but the flexibility to use the right tool at the right time...
He placed the drone feeds on the AR display, it was incredible, "Look Rachel... they cover so much ground... we have a little control center here in the car... They also have infrared... wait is that Natasha? You should really tell her to wear more clothes she's practically naked. There are some extra clothes in the back, my treat... " In a different life if he wasn't a criminal and a vindictive killer Solo and Rachel could be friends, the little family seemed happy and it was fun to see them together... even more to the fact that Solo had a bad feeling that the dangerous part of the mission lies ahead.
It is never over until you are home drinking a beer with your ginger hot girlfriend... I wonder how she would react when I bring a powerful female spirit into the relationship. A spirit that will be stuck inside my head... I wonder if she'll continue to love me. He thought with dread and amusement - but he knew with his line of work, a spirit stuck inside your hand will take his hacking into new hights. He will be able to use the spirit powers as his own, and the spirit will be able to take control over his body when he is busy in hot sim... it will significantly increase the chances of having a body when he wakes up... There seemed to be many opportunities that mundane hackers just don't have... But then again they get to put armor inside their skin and become bullet proof... if they just have enough money.
-
It was nice to feel the wind in his face and around his glasses. The Suzuki Mirage ran smooth and Isaint started to relax a bit. Whoever was after the Doctor would probably not risk his life on a high speed chase. Only when traffic forced them to slow down again it would become interesting.
So far the run had been manageable. He listened a bit to the matrix chatter if the campus security had already released a statement regarding the severe destruction and a bunch of bodies. While he was at it, he sent Snow Crash a few pictures he had taken of th opposing team.
<<Snow, could you try to find out who those jokers and what kind of runners they were? I'd do it myself, but I don't trust my bike's autopilot and I try to keep watch of the group. We might learn something about the rest of their group or the kind of opposition we might have to contend with when we reach London.>>
Isaint had to admit: It felt a lot better to be once again the protector instead of the infiltrator. It was the harder job, but it went along far better with his nature.
When they reached the outskirts of London he received the Frenchman's message:
<<Isaint here, roger. I'll take point and scout our way. We wouldn't want a fiasco like '73 in Istambul>>
-
Snow Crash was mulling a lot of things over, it wasn't often that he found himself in Matrix Overwatch, events had over-taken him and it had taken a long time to be able to respond. What he needed was more speed, more speed int he matrix and better efficiency with Marks.
The message from Isaint broke him from his musings
Isaint to Snow Crash <<Snow, could you try to find out who those jokers and what kind of runners they were? I'd do it myself, but I don't trust my bike's autopilot and I try to keep watch of the group. We might learn something about the rest of their group or the kind of opposition we might have to contend with when we reach London.>>
Clever find, and not a bad idea.
Snow Crash to Isaint <<Good thinking, I'll do some poking around and let everyone know what I find.>>
With no fancy driving going on the orc decker is easily able to open some AR windoes and start searching for information.
[spoiler]I'll take a moment to swap my overclocking from Sleaze to Data processing.
Matrix Search: Opposing runner identification. Browser program halves search times.
Computers 6 + Intuition 5
Matrix Search (http://orokos.com/roll/300404): 11d6t5 4 hits
Data Processing limit 6
in case this is an extended test, I'll do a couple of extra rolls.
Computers 6 + Intuition 5 - Extended Test 1
Matrix Search Extended Test (http://orokos.com/roll/300405): 10d6t5 2 hits
total hits 6
Computers 6 + Intuition 5 - Extended Test 2
Matrix Search Extended Test (http://orokos.com/roll/300406): 9d6t5 5 hits
total hits 11
I think I checked Jackpoint or something on that last one :o[/spoiler]
-
Swapping back to his leather Jacket and helmet Solo felt that it was time to test his new drones in the actions. <<@all - I am sending my new toys for some recon on the safe-house. I am also covering matrix and Astral - it should give us some info very quickly while we do some logistics. PS... if you have some popcorn PLEASE bring!
He sent the 3 flying eyes toward the safehouse to try and see that it is indeed clear, the brand new RCC was a simple model but it could run 3 autosofts and share them. Stealth, perception and some noise reduction. Were his choices:
[spoiler]
Drone tests:
3#9d6t5: 3 # 1 [9d6t5=3, 3, 2, 1, 2, 4, 1, 5, 4] 4 [9d6t5=5, 1, 6, 3, 3, 5, 2, 6, 2] 4 [9d6t5=3, 5, 1, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 6]
Drone perception (http://orokos.com/roll/300519): 3#9d6t5 1 4 4
[/spoiler]
Then he casted the improve intuition spell along with heighten concern and entered the matrix scanning it for anything suspicious, weapons, cyber ware equipment that is characteristic of shadworunners anything that may imply an ambush or armed people in the vicinity of the safehouse. He also took new attention to drones of any size in the vicinity.
[spoiler]
Matrix Perception in hot sim (http://orokos.com/roll/300527): 21d6t5 13
21d6t5: 13 [21d6t5=6, 6, 6, 5, 6, 2, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 5, 6, 1, 6, 6, 1, 6, 5, 1, 6]
the maximum is unfortunately just 6.
[/spoiler]
When he returned to meat space, the drones where already close to the target Solo felt it was better to augment them with a spirit and his other spirit was out of range and the connection with it was lost due to it's blending into humanity so aggressively. He casted the improved willpower and struggled the deep concentration that two spells required for him. With his mental state augmented summoning the spirit was relatively safe and indeed he was able to do so without taking drain.
"Go to the safehouse and report to me anything unusual, magical or any living people inside and in the short vicinity of the warehouse, augmented or awakened are a priority. Stay in the astral near the safehouse and let me know how things change" was his instruction to the spirit that did not even materialize.
[spoiler]
Improve intuition:
15d6t5: 5 [15d6t5=2, 1, 6, 2, 6, 5, 3, 2, 5, 2, 2, 3, 1, 5, 4]
Improve Intuition Spell (http://orokos.com/roll/300520): 15d6t5 5
Solo Drain(2) (http://orokos.com/roll/300525): 15d6t5 9 (drain + improve intuition)
Next spell was improve willpower, after the matrix search: (sustaining of intuition negated with heighten concern)
15d6t5: 6 [15d6t5=3, 3, 2, 4, 6, 5, 2, 3, 6, 3, 6, 4, 6, 3, 5]
Improve Willpower Spell (http://orokos.com/roll/300521): 15d6t5 6
Solo Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/300524): 19d6t5 3
no drain, now when Solo has 9 willpower and 10 intuition he can summon another spirit of man safely, corrected by Aria, the heighten concern only reduce -2 of the sustaining bonus spirit of man will have 17 -2 15 dice to summon, Solo asks for level 7 and get level 8 due to spirit whisperer.
15d6t5: 6 [15d6t5=1, 4, 6, 4, 3, 1, 3, 3, 6, 1, 5, 2, 6, 5, 5]
Summon spirit of man force 7 (http://orokos.com/roll/300522): 15d6t5 6
spirit defense (http://orokos.com/roll/300523): 8d6t5 2
Solo Drain(3) (spirit) (http://orokos.com/roll/300526): 19d6t5 5
4 services and no drain. The spirit sent for astral sensing - probobly a remote service depending on how close to the safe house we are. The role is mediocre but let's hope it is enough.
17d6t5: 3 [17d6t5=1, 6, 3, 4, 3, 3, 2, 5, 6, 4, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 3]
Astral Senssing (http://orokos.com/roll/300528): 17d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
-
It had been a bit awkward getting to this point, the logistics of moving four people from one city to another, but the task had been accomplished. The boyfriend had been removed from the equation quickly, before he had seen too many faces. Smiley had no idea what the level of paranoia was among his teammates, but he was not going to risk the boy being killed "because he knew too much." In the initial confusion following the siblings reunion, the Amerind had put the teenager out the same way he had the guard. A few strips of duct tape and a smashed commlink later and the punk was another hard partyer sleeping it off in a dumpster.
Gathering the family in the van had been another odd moment, the boy was excited for the adventure, but sleepy, the daughter was completely at a loss on the situation, wondering, as only a teenager would, whether she was still in trouble for sneaking out or not. The parents had not been his concern, but the Primary looked to have taken the worst of the evening. Smiley had quickly turned away from the gathered family, and towards a long pull on his flask to ease his tightening throat.
He played the co-ordinated game of leap-frog with the other outriders, his eyes sweeping their surroundings at all times, quietly acting the professional. He tried to quiet his mind too, but he knew tonight was going to be bad for him, he hoped it was close to being over, he really needed drown out the memories before they got too real.
-
When London was in sight, Isaint again send a message, this time to his two fellow outriders Smiley and Duke:
<<We are getting nearer to the zone with hightened threat level. We are now going to engage in a manouvre called Travelling Overwatch. What this means is: The two of you now start following at the distance from the main transport, I indicate on your AR. I'll take overwatch position. That way you'll be in optimal position to react to a surprise attack.>>
The message was followed by a quick AR scematic, so the two knew where and how to position.
[spoiler]
Again engaging in Small Unit Tactics:
TRAVELING OVERWATCH
Successes Required: 2
Description: Similar to Bounding Overwatch, Traveling Overwatch is a preventative maneuver. It’s meant to be used when speed is essential and best intel indicates contact with an enemy is unlikely. When the team is in motion, one—or preferably two—members take a trailing position and periodically stop to carefully survey their surroundings. If the main body of the unit is attacked, the overwatch pair can respond with either long range-support or engage in a flanking maneuver. In using this tactic, a drone or spirit will either complement or replace a team member in the rear overwatch position. The drawback to this tactic is that the rear overwatch has a chance of being separated from the main group or being eliminated without the main group realizing. This is why drone and spirit use has become popular in this position. For this maneuver, the team leader is always the team member in the overwatch position.
Benefits: + 1 on all Perception Tests and + 2 to the overwatcher’s Initiative roll if combat is initiated.
Traveling Overwatch (http://orokos.com/roll/300547): 15d6t5 6
48
[/spoiler]
-
"Alright sounds good to me tactics arent really my thing so ill leave it up to you." He then trails behind in the designated distance.
-
"Done"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:15, Soho, London]
Al steered the dirty white panel van through the graffiti-riddled canyons of Soho’s lanes and alleys, following the lead of the outriders. He couldn’t always see them, but he knew at least one of them had him in sight all the time, and he had all their positions on the heads-up the stretched across his windshield, a local map overlay piped in from his comm. Isaint was choreographing their movements in some sort of paramilitary street dance, but Al had to hand it to the ork, he was keeping them all in striking distance of the drop point without ever repeating a pattern and without looking like they were all together.
He’d been happy when the lights of London had come into view. Unlike the drive out to Oxford, the trip back had been pure misery. First Doctor Dick had complained the music was too loud. Hurting his ears or something. Like he’d never been flashbanged before. Then there were a couple of Chinese fire drills as they moved the whole damned clan into the van. Smartest play, but that didn’t make it a laugh. Right off the bat, the damned pimply-faced kid had almost lost a hand trying to pet Spike. Then little miss too-cute-for-proper clothes had started in on the smoke. Child didn’t even have sense enough to wear a full set of clothes, and here she was on him about a few cigarettes. He’d tried ignoring her, but then she was off about how many poor Africans could be fed if they converted all the tobacco fields into damned rice paddies. So he’d put down a window and then of course Miss Precious was too cold. Eventually her bellyaching had taken all the pleasure out of the thing and he’d tossed the butt out the window, only to be lectured about the environment or some such. And then there were the potty stops. And the hell that broke loose with the wife when he’d handed them an empty beer can to use.
At least he’d had a few cans left that weren’t empty, but they were soon gone.
So now, the oil drum fires in the alleys and the passed out drunks on the street were a promise of eventually getting off the clock. He hadn't slept in a few days, and he was starting to feel due. Solo was in back living up to his name, scouting the drop about every way a body could without actually using a body. Then they’d send in an advance team. He had to hand it to these people, they covered their bases. Not like the seat-of-their-pants jobs he’d done in Seattle.
Well, they’d soon see how much good it did them. In his experience, the only thing surer than bad things happening was the eternal truth that, no matter what you did, they’d happen when you weren’t looking for them.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:15, Soho, London]
Snow Crash was content to stick to his car pouring over the data on the hostile team, he'd made a few calls and found a place where he could get some of the latest cyberdeck mods. His deck now faster and tougher than before, granting him a bit of an edge if he got stuck in VR like that again.
Now as he was driving through one of the rougher sections of London, his AR hidden just under the seat and the front of his jacket loose to quickly access his MP. He keeps his eye on the van and the approaches. He'd already seen this run go south in a major way very rapidly once already, and was nervous about what tricks the drake they'd left behind them might be able to pull.
-
<<Isaint here, roger. I'll take point and scout our way. We wouldn't want a fiasco like '73 in Istambul>>
WTF!? Could the Frenchman be right about feeling the two had met before? Under which circumstances?
<<'73 has long been forgotten. Want to explain what you considered a fiasco?>>
Of course, the Frenchman had no clue of what may have had happened in Istanbul. Neither could he remember ever being there. He tried to focus for an instant; digging in the darkness that was his memory. Istanbul, Istanbul.... If he ever was there, he must remember glimpse of it....
His effort was interrupted when he heard Solo. He called on all channels:
<<Solo, what do you think you are doing? Where is Rachel?>>
<<ISaint, Mel and I will enter the parking lot and help secure the area, then. >>
-
Solo smiles when he gets the Frenchman text: <<I am now with the whole family, I am not sure what's more amusing the drone feeds or their family dynamics... The father seems a bit shaken up... I think the main team showed him more than he expected. The only thing I really miss is a cold beer and popcorn but I hate to ask for favors twice in the same day... I should have thought about it when I called my friend for the drones. >>
-
Isaint replied: <<Roger, I'll just get my rifle from Snow. Not that I'll use it in close quarters, but it might deter some unaffiliated scavengers and could come in handy in a siege. And yeah I know, it was only a fiasco for me. You damn well taught me not to get to close to the principal or into their bed for that matter.>>
He opened a privat channel to the Frenchman: <<If that's a peace offer I'm glad to accept. I understand that we both were doing just the job we were hired to do. No hard feelings. Besides I know that the Bozkurtlar reneged on their deal with you and tried to have you killed after you brought them the girl. I'm not mad at you - after all if it wasn't for you she would have died in their headquarters. And I surely wouldn't have gotten her home if you had decided to pursue us instead of wasting your former employers.
When this is over, I'll buy you a drink and you can tell me why the hell they call you the Frenchman when you were clearly in the Foreign Legion..."
Isaint did as he said: He got his equipment, but slung the rifle across his shoulders. He opened his coat, so that he had unrestricted access to his various holsters. He waited for the others before entering the presumed safe house.
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Circling Safehouse at a safe distance away - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage -In VR- Silent -
As they moved on up, Tobbis stopped by a small shop to pick up a few new gizmos, Particularly of note was an AI package for his car, having found that it was very difficult having to constantly change where the car was going instead of just telling it to follow a car. In addition he got a small fly spy which as he goes to join the group flies around and above the rest of the caravan, checking for signs of danger. Isometric views were always one of the best ways of doing strategy games after all, and he found it to be no different in real life, cept you could die.
<< I'm scanning the area for signals of hidden icons and what information I've got on them. Will be posting in through my feed at chat room Where's Waldo, 77484, password is san diego>>
If anyone was as well versed as Tobbis in some of the things you could find on the matrix, they'd find he was fairly well into old cartoons and shows. After all one of his other call names they'd see him broadcast was Mr. Peabody.
[spoiler]26th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
Matrix Perception around Safehouse's location. (http://orokos.com/roll/300884): 13d6t5 3 13d6t5: 3 [13d6t5=1, 4, 5, 4, 2, 1, 3, 5, 2, 4, 1, 4, 5]
I'm looking right now for Icons running silent around the base and firearm icons not running silent.
[/spoiler]
-
Solo text Mr.Peabody << Man I am glad you are around, come to my improvised control room there are drone feeds and anything and we can scan the matrix together. I am only missing beer and popcorn - but heck it is work after all. No need for us to do our things separately when we are doing the same things basically. >>
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Circling Safehouse at a safe distance away - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
<<Alright, Coming in.>> he replies back to Solo. The Changeling Technomancer's persona steps into Solo's room, Looking something like a large wolf with heavy metal armor on him and a rather large sword on his back. The great thing about the matrix is you could be anyone, anything, it was a paradise like no other.
Moving to sit down, he changed his persona to look just a tad more like him, shrinking down to a small size, but still within the normal bounds of the matrix, soon setting a case of beer and popcorn down. <<While these might not have actual sustenance to them, I think I got the flavor information right. So if you're running hot, you'll be able to taste some of the best beer ever. And its free!>>
Soon with a flick another couple of screens appear. The few cameras in his car to make sure that no one did anything bad, the car's sensors, Hal's camera, Solo's camera, and most importantly. his own fly spy's vision.
[spoiler]27th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Data jack of mine
Observe in Detail - Fly spy's screen (http://orokos.com/roll/301037): 11d6t5 5
[/spoiler]
-
Solo indeed was in Hot Sim his oersona is that of a ferytale wizard. Including the hat and beard. Solo thinks it is funny because he is an established mage and adept. He was special with matrix and magic... disguises and talking but there are always bigger fish. He is surprised that his friend prefered to just come visit him in the matrix when he was just around the corrner. Maybe Matrix is as real to him as real world. He said:" welcome... abroad i am already burning daya processing to the limit... I am not sure about drinking in here sruff is addicting as hell I cant wait to get to meatspace... I dont like to dive too deep during a run... under more friendly circumstances sure... but the thought of someone killing me in hot sim with a bullet is too much. Once we finish the scan I will be in AR where it safe unless we are desparate."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
@All:
The team spread their net as they approach the supposed safe house, justifiable paranoia firmly at the front of their thoughts. The area is more populous than they might like…although that means they themselves are less out of place it is all too easy for there to be watchers hiding amongst the street dregs that scurry or saunter, as the need takes them, in the alleys and side streets around the target.
As the sportscar makes its way with care through the throngs it gets no few envious glares which thankfully fall away as it enters the centre of the block dislodging a couple of human rats who skitter away at the sound of the throaty engine reflecting on the hard surfaces around the parking area.
In the heady realms of the matrix the area is equally thronging with personae despite the hour. Searching for illusive hidden icons across the grids reveals two hidden links within a couple of hundred meters of the safe house. Neither are in close proximity to the other and, judging by the RW map overlay, don’t have LOS to the site. Whilst it’s not impossible it would seem unlikely that they are doing anything connected with the team. There are plenty of icons dotted around, some even of smartguns of which further interrogation shows them to be semi autos and the occasional taser. Again, given the neighbourhood nothing that looks drastically out of place but certainly enough to give pause…the rabid police response to firearms in this country would indicate that this is a neighbourhood where they don’t anticipate a big police presence!
Similarly the views of the astral, whilst disquieting, offer nothing concrete to confirm or deny the presence of any active hostiles. There are certainly a number of people in the street outside and surrounding buildings that the team skim through that have murderous intent but then this is a rough area of London…
The apartment itself mercifully seems to be clear. There are no lifeforms inside, no active matrix signals and the physical insertion after the initial scout is met with nothing more threatening than a house spider. The place is dusty and clearly hasn’t been occupied in a while. It smells of age and damp…so a large number of the group are going to feel right at home here!
***
#16
-
Delving into massive amounts of data icons, identifying two silently running some weapons - but nothing that seemed overly suspicious for a bad neighborhood. The drones themselves also did not found much out of the ordinary and the spirit mentally reported that it does not identify anything out of the ordinary in astral space. All aspects of reality gave green light... all reporting to the same mind. Maybe I am the command and control kind of person, I could grow to like this position with the massive data feeds. There was something a bit odd about mr. Peabody but Solo was not sure what it was - somehow he seemed so comfortable in hot sim, as if he belonged there. Solo felt that being so fast in the meatword - hot sim offered him little - the deck that he loved was out dated already - and its data processing speed limited how fast he could be in the matrix. Yet, it was his deck and he loved it and knew everything about it.
He felt comfortable in his improvised command and control room with the RCC and deck deployed, six of his drones provided feeds over the entire spectrum and there was mr. Peabody’s drone. “Incredible...” thought Solo. Once back in AR he texted all the team.
<< Everything seems to be in order... there are some weapons, a couple of silently running icons that are worth checking out carefully but nothing that seem directly related to us. I’d say it is reasonable to approach the building. >>
The drones were circling the convoy in battle formation. Solo was dressed for combat with his leather jacket and helmet, and the Ares alpha brushed and polished for battle in his lap, just in case he’ll need it.
He mentally contacted his spirit “Pride... we are going in to the safehouse - be extra alert for changes in our vicinity. Thanks again for your quick help... To answer your question that incident with the hair was when I was six, I cut my sister hair because I thought that way it will grow faster. Why do you find this particular event of interest? ” There was no reply from the spirit. Spirits kept asking him all sort of crazy questions and they always seemed to be a bit stronger than anticipated. Solo had no idea why he has such a connection with the spirit world but he longed for an even closer connection.
Whatever the next step is going to require - he was ready to deliver. He was good at many things... Sometimes it was matrix combat, other combats guns seemed more effective, other time talking solved the problem and he could always solve problems with spells or spirits. The wisdom was to know when to use each tool. Soon, Solo will up some drone skills and will become even more diverse. In the meanwhile they were expensive toys for some cover fire, but all starts are difficult.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
As they neared the safe house Solo started to get ready, placing his helmet and forearm guards in place, and easing the Ares Alpha out from under the seat, propping it next to his leg where he could reach it in moments, he knew this was the kind of place where appearing too strong to mess with was going to save them issues.
Snow Crash to all teams <<OK folks, I'm sure we all know the drill for this kind of place. Don't be shy about showing weapons, police won't be called about weapon sightings unless they're being used and if we show we're too much to tangle with we'll be less likely to get trouble from the natives. No need to go ramming them in peoples' faces, just let it be seen we have too much firepower to mess with.>>
-
Smiley to all << What if a person is only armed with a heavy pistol and his DEVASTATING good looks? ;) >>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
Snow Crash to all <<*chucking* Well then use those good looks to look like the meanest SoB on the street. I'd rather intimidate the locals into not messing with us then testing local response times.>>
-
<< Roger that, Meanie Face active >:( >> Smiley realized it was a lot easier to relax in such a large group. His ego didn't require him to be in a leadership roll, though he usually fell into that space.
-
Isaint nodded to Snow. Gearing up was in this part of town a good precaution. So not only did he take his rifle, but equipped also his additional armor parts, including the mask.
He then moved over to Al's car with the family inside.
<<While our scouts clear the path, we organize the protective detail. Normally I'd take the family into the middle and form a diamond formation. But we might have to move fast suddenly, so I want one defender per person to act as a body shield and if necessary as a booster to movement. By that I mean, grab the target and run.
I'll take the doctor. Al, could you take care of the wife. Snow, I'd be much obliged if you could get the son under your wing and Daddy, I'll leave the daughter to your tender mercies.
The rest will have to act as additional eyes and ears. I don't expect any problems with such a show of force, but you never know if there isn't some drekhead with to many uppers and to little sense somewhere around. If you have them, put on filters and gas masks. This kind of setup is vulnerable to gas attacks.>>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
"Roger roger, kemo sabe," Al responded, emerging from the cab into the back of the van, Spike at his heels. As the others led their charges out the rear doors, Al put his hunting rifle on his back and slung his good medkit over his shoulder - he'd carry that this time instead of the bomb bag. Then he grabbed the big black, collarless dog by the scruff of the neck and pulled his snout into the wife's crotch. She stepped back indignantly with a squeak, and Al smirked. "That's how he knows yer his responsibility. Anyone wants ya now, missus, they gotta come through him. And me. Now step down out."
Spike went first, then Mrs. Pelletiere, making Al the last out. He unslung his rifle and, taking Isaint's advice, switched to internal air. Better safe than, sorry, he reckoned. And he was getting antsy.
Stepping over to Isaint, he whispered, "So advance team says not a creature is stirrin'. I'll concede I'm a bit hazy onna details o' this here rumpus, but is that right? We bring 'em here an' jist leave 'em? No one here - I mean good guys - here ta take 'em from us?"
-
In reply with the job assignment Solo reply:
<< Solo has entered Badass mode...>>
With his RCC and deck packed as a back pack and AR displays in the periphery of his eyes. Solo paid little auttention to the drones, just a look from time to time to see if they notice anything unusal the drones had their own AI that would alert him of hostiles. (or so Solo hoped) He got over his beloved growler, and drove with his Ares Alpha close at hand. The drones were creating a perimeter around the convoy trying to spot problems as they form. Driving while holding the assault rifle was not convenient but Solo knew that if you carry a gun it should be loaded and ready to fire - otherwise you just mark yourself as a good target. In his case, despite being a skilled marksman, the gun was more somewhat of a disguise - he was both a decker and a mage - prime target to be geeked first. Having an armor and a combat rifle made him appear as a less attractive target.
-
Isaint whispered his reply to Al: "Yeah, I get you. I certainly won't let those guys out of my sight until our employer gets here and hands me my paycheck. For all the fuss we had, all this still went to smooth. Feels like the other shoe has yet to drop. So let's try to get them before they get us..."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
@All:
As the van door slides open the shitstorm descends…so much for badassery keeping the team out of the line of fire…where did all these fraggers come from?
Solo has a brief moment when his spirit alerts him to an astral presence and then across the street three windows on two different upper floors shatter outwards…telltale sign of shaped charges… and silenced fire target the drone overwatch pattern with murderous intent… behind the van the outriders have mere seconds to lunge out of the way as an enormous creature composed of street drek risers out of the pavement and with prodigious strength swings a rusted out hulk of a sedan across the narrow alley effectively blocking retreat…ahead of the convoy one of the street bums, rather than hiding at the mounting furore, swings out a shotgun from under the ratty lined coat and pumps a nasty hotshot round into the front grille of the van. A female orc sauntering in the opposite direction pulls an Uzi and taking cover behind another hulk targets the outriders in a spitting sweep of fire…
***
#17
-
[Tobbis -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - Circling Safehouse at a safe distance away - Kid Extraction team - Current condition 2 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
Tobbis spits the virtual beer all over the screens he was watching with Solo. <<Holy drek! I'd hate to be down there. Wait..I am down there! Who brought these fraggers along.. and how the hell did they know where we were going and get here before us?>> He demanded answers, but for now, surviging lots of sharp pointy death bullets was something that was probably more important. First thing to do was go on the total matrix defense as his car attempted to break away from the rest of the group.
[spoiler]28th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Hotsim VR Init (http://orokos.com/roll/301403): 4d6+12 31
Hot digity dog. At least I rolled well.
Is it just me, or does matrix combat actually seem slower than real world combat?
Taking Total Matrix Defense as an Interrupter action. However I still have to take my actual turn.
Perception Test on the drone over head. Perception Test (http://orokos.com/roll/301652): 13d6t5 2 13d6t5: 2 [13d6t5=2, 2, 2, 5, 3, 3, 2, 4, 3, 6, 4, 1, 1]
My question is basically, what is on the drone's pan?
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint hadn't finished his - now equally prophetic as well as ironic - sentence, when all hell broke loose. With a quick shove he pushed the Doctor back in the car and had just enough time to utter a short prayer before he pulled his gun and shot at the nearest threat: The guy with the shotgun.
[spoiler]
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/301411): 15+4d6 24
Not good...
Attribute Boost AGI (http://orokos.com/roll/301413): 7d6t5 3
Quickdraw Savalette (http://orokos.com/roll/301414): 16d6t5 9
Free action: Vitals Shot at Foe#5
Short Burst APDS (AP-6 Dodge -2) (http://orokos.com/roll/301415): 17d6t5 7
10P AP-6 + net successes
52
[/spoiler]
-
"Fuck Fuck fuck!" mumbled Solo, there were so many things to do and so little time. "Spirit we need some help in this combat... go for elemental stay in astral." Drones: "<<go for street bum - if bum die go for that female orc.>>" In the first split second Solo did not even think about himself he instinctively made sure that his allies were all busy.
[spoiler]
First initative pass:
Simple action command spirit to help in combat.
Simple action: command drones - RCC makes it a single simple action to command all of them.
Free action: say " Fuck Fuck Fuck!"
[/spoiler]
With spirit quickly charged the massive elemental in the astral with what could best be described as a rapid serials of blows.
[spoiler]
Astral Combat (http://orokos.com/roll/301421): 16d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
Everything happened so fast, but Solo was almost certain that he heard the drones shower hell on that bum, but with so much gunfire it wasn't clear who is shooting who:
[spoiler]
They'll fire short bursts, DV 10, AP -2 (regular ammo)
Drones Firing (http://orokos.com/roll/301422): 3#9d6t5 5 2 4
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
Snow Crash barely had time to register what was going on before he slammed the breaks and go out of the car Ares Alpha in hand. Crouching next to his car to use it as cover he takes a moment to try and spot which one is being fired out of. Making the best guess he can the Ares Alpha gives the distinctive *whumph* of a grenade launcher before a blinding flash of the flashbang grenade shone out the window. He was cursing the fact he was in a non-lethal setup, but no time to change now.
[spoiler]First initiative pass:
Free action: change Ares Alpha to Grenade Launcher mode.
Free Action (Perfect Time): Swap vision mode to thermographic.
Simple Action: Observe in Detail on the blown out windows to try and spot a shooter.
Simple Action: Fire Flashbang Grenade in impact mode.
Observe in Detail, thermographic vision.
Perception 4 + Intuition 5 + Vision Enhancement 2 + Perceptive 1
Observe in detail, find a target. (http://orokos.com/roll/301538): 12d6t5 2 hits
whelp, i guess he will be guessing then.
Fire grenade
Heavy Weapons 4 + Agility 6 + grenade launcher specialization 2 + smartlink 2
fire grenade launcher (http://orokos.com/roll/301539): 14d6t5 3 hits
frag, low roll for the dice, but enough to place the grenade.
some book keeping rolls.
Initiative:
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/301540): 2d6+11 18
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/301541): 2d6+11 20
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/301542): 2d6+11 19
Defense + partial cover:
Defense Test + Partial Cover (http://orokos.com/roll/301543): 13d6t5 4 hits
Defense Test + Partial Cover (http://orokos.com/roll/301544): 13d6t5 4 hits
Defense Test + Partial Cover (http://orokos.com/roll/301545): 13d6t5 7 hits
Defense Test + Partial Cover (http://orokos.com/roll/301546): 13d6t5 3 hits
not the best... glad I've got good armor.
Damage soak (http://orokos.com/roll/301547): 20d6t5 4 hits
Damage soak (http://orokos.com/roll/301548): 20d6t5 6 hits
Damage soak (http://orokos.com/roll/301549): 20d6t5 6 hits
Damage soak (http://orokos.com/roll/301550): 20d6t5 4 hits
whelp, sometimes you roll high, sometimes you roll like shite. I'm rather low on Edge, so I'll only use it to reroll if I take 3+ damage from a single hit.[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
"Angela Colloton naked on muh lap - ever'one back inna bus!!!" Al shouted, his voice like tearing sheet metal. Isaint shoved Doctor Dick on board and the other three scrambled up after, Al not missing the opportunity to give Mrs. Pelletiere a solid slap on the rump by way of encouragement. Then he and Spike were jumping up after them, Al reaching to slam the door shut.
-
[Thursday, June 18th, 2076, 〜 01:23. Soho, London, Apartment Hallway]
Mel, inside the apartment but in the hallway, heard the commotion outside and saw her feed go haywire with the distressed chatter. She warned her companions that were inside with her to "Hunker down y'all, the 'cane's here!" , her southern accent temporarily leaking. She drew her weapon and sent a quick message to the rest of the team, announcing that the <Scouting team will secure the interior if you mark them for us.>
[spoiler]Initiative 〜 Reaction 7 + Intuition 5 (http://orokos.com/roll/301557): 12+3d6 18 wow, this is pretty bad, but I'd rather get this kind of shitty roll out of the way now than when we have to count hits :( [/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
@Inside Team:
As they are turning to leave to assist in the fight outside their world is turned upside down…shaped charges placed in the apartment above the safehouse send lethal shockwaves through the floor, vaporising large sections of the apartment and burying the rest under a mess of plaster, concrete floor slab and protruding steel reinforcement rods… Hallucination is briefly stunned by the cacophony but the rest were sufficiently removed from the main living spaces that they suffered nothing much more serious than overpressure of the ear drums…and a burning desire to make the fraggers pay!
@Outside Team:
The hotshot round that impacts the front of the step van does near catastrophic damage and inside the dashboard alights with red warning indicators. Isaint’s return fire wings the bum and as he ducks back into better cover the ratty long coat flares to briefly allow a glimpse of what looks suspiciously like security grade armour underneath… Solo’s drones hovering overhead bear the brunt of the initial fire and two spiral out of control as their aerodynamics are seriously compromised by extreme lead poisoning… the last one sends a tightly formed burst of fire at the fleeing bum…
Snow ignored the light patter of the Uzi fire and watched with satisfaction as his grenade sailed into one of the blown out windows…
A blur of energy slams into Smiley and Duke leaving them feeling faintly woozy… Smiley vainly searched for the mage and then opted to take the battle to the elemental, his blows easily compromising the astral form and, coupled with Solo’s spirit, sent the wretched thing back to whatever hellspawned dimension conjured it up…
And all eyes are drawn upwards as the near silent whomp whomp of a blacked out chopper appears overhead…rapid descent lines streak out towards the top of the van and figures in dark militaristic armour begin to descend…
***
#18
-
"Expenses... " thought Solo as his watched his new toys cramble to small pieces... "I'll have to take special care of the remaining drone... autopilot clearly won't cut it with this kind of fire. " The helicopter was bad news, and so was the kind of armor the guys around him were Waring... this wasn't exactly shadow runners armor too obvious it was the armor of corp security forces. Solo knew the type... he was a corp decker in a different life.
<<Al are you guys okay in that Van?>> he messaged, with his hyper fast reflexes he seemed to have a lot of time to react.
Both texts were sent to all team:
Second messages: <<We need to get these guys outside... We need to escape... guys does anyone see a sewer entrance? this seems to be the only way out of fighting corpers in inferior positions. Regardless if that van is still working we should get it out! >>
Fuck... what was that thing over in the safe house... <<Mel Frenchman? Sarah? ... Other guy?! (pistolgrip but Solo haven't met him yet.) Are you okay in there? >>
He focused his mind, he needed speed, he needed a sewer entrance and they needed to change the ground of this combat fast.
"Pride - there is a mage somewhere... any hint? " he contacted his spirit. He was looking around trying to find a sewer entrance or some cover, the family needed to be extracted for this place before it becomes a grave yard.
-
Isaint saw the chopper and murmured dumbfounded "I'll need a bigger gun."
These where no cheap runners like those in Oxford. This was a high threat response with a near perfect ambush and - going by the explosion inside - top information on the whole plan.
Still: Nothing he should worry about now. Staying alive had to take precedence. That meant shotgun bum had to die.
This would get messy...
[spoiler]
Second Ini phase: 14
Simple Action: Aim
Simple Action: BULLS-EYE BURST
BULLS-EYE DOUBLE-TAP/BURST
If one bullet does the work of carving through a target’s armor, why should a second bullet have to duplicate that effort? With this shot, characters try to make the latter bullets of a multiple-round burst follow the path carved by the first.
• Modifier: –4
• DV Limit: None
• Effects: The bullets follow so closely in line behind each other that the first clears the path for the second or third. The attack results in an AP increase equal to the base AP multiplied by the number of bullets in the burst, with a maximum modifier of x3.
• Available ammo types: APDS
8 Agi +6 Skill +1 Aim +1 Smartlink -4 Called Shot 3 rounds
BULLS-EYE BURST (http://orokos.com/roll/302142): 12d6t5 5 [12d6t5=4, 6, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 4, 1, 1, 6]
8 P AP -15 (or -7 depending how you read base AP) + Successes
My remaining Ini will be spend with Full Defense
Ini for round #2:
Initiative Round #2 (http://orokos.com/roll/302143): 15+4d6 28
[/spoiler]
He aimed, concentrated and fired a tight group of highly illegal armor piercing rounds at his heavily armored opponent.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
Al responded to Solo, likewise shotgunning the message to the whole team: <<We's buttoned up good in here, amigo, an' I ain't takin' these kids out without a clear exit path an' a lot less lead flyin'. Garr, git your car outta the way, or git outta your car, cuz I'm hittin' reverse.>>
-
<<I am with you on that Al... I am trying to clear your reverse path!>>
As Al was, reversing Solo focused, magic was unpredictable and there was no way to guarantee he'll be able to lift that car... but they had to get out someway or the other. Pushing his limit Solo also made that van invisible... it is difficult to shot something that you cannot see. In his experience reagents were amazing to use such feats so despite the cost he just used them.
[spoiler]
I am not sure - how to do it, but if Solo is to levitate out of the way 1 ton car he needs 5 hits on levitate. lets do it 6 just to be sure.
1,200 kilos lifted with his mind. If Solo get to do so - (like the car is still working in Solo's turn) He'll drop his bufff spells and try and get that car in the air. The rest of the cars are working so their owners can just get them out of the way.
If he actually lift the car - the dice lords were kind - it's sort of 50/50 with Solo's skill level.
Solo use reckless casting the levittate is cast at force 3 with limit set with regents.
Levitate (http://orokos.com/roll/302177): 15d6t5 6
dice lords were kind!
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/302178): 11d6t5 5
no drain!
Invisibility force 2 with limit set with reagents to 7.
Reckless improve invisibility + reagents (http://orokos.com/roll/302210): 15d6t5 6 Improved invisibility force 2
15d6t5: 6 [15d6t5=6, 6, 3, 3, 3, 5, 3, 3, 5, 2, 3, 6, 1, 6, 2] - take the last two dice due to spell sustain penalty. 5 hits.
using regents to set the limit to 7.
Drain Vs 4.
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/302211): 11d6t5 4
Casting two spells with some reagents lost 14 reagents but the van is invisible and the car is lifted.
Overall two simple actions:
1. cast levitate - (reckelss with reagents)
2. cast improve invisibility (reckeless with reagents)
>[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
Bulldog already in reverse (not squashing that ork like a bug had been an act of sheer iron will - akin to not smoking for a day or something), Al's rear camera display on the windshield showed the wrecked car that had been blocking their escape jump straight into the air.
He didn't know which of the team's devil-worshippers had done it, but he was going to buy them a drink once they clocked off.
<<Yee-hah! Now shift that damned toy car, little guy, an' we's outta Dodge!>>
Not one to waste an empty second, Al pressed a button on the dash, which was worryingly lit up like a damned Amsterdam street with red lights. Behind him, there was a click on the floor of the van, and a large panel popped up.
None of the doctor's family had had time to start screaming yet, but he was sure they would be in a moment, so now was the time to talk: "Inna hatch, Doc."
"What? I'm not hiding and leaving my family." Squeals and hugs.
"Spoken like a brave man, but not a smart one. These fellers is after you, not them. They breach this ride, you're done - unless they can't find ya. You in there is the best way to perteck yer kin. Now git!"
Once the man was in the padded, environmentally controlled compartment, Al sealed both the internal and external locks. If they got breached, he'd put his knife through the controls, and the bastards would have to cut the doc out if they wanted him.
-
Okay the Van is on the clear, Solo was mad with the gun trying to shot at anyone that even thinks about shooting the Van... atleast that was what he wanted to do, but there was so much to do before he get to shoot anything... got to make sure that van survives.
Let's give them some fair fighting chance thought Solo that Van cannot take much more torment. Assuming it is still running Solo uses their third spirit service to hide it further out of sight. “Pride! your third service is to use concealment on the van and everyone inside”
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
As Snow Crash looks up at the blackout chopper it's apparent from his expression that the only reason why he hasn't gone completely white... is that he already is.
Need to do something about those fraggers coming down the lines.. hmm, they seem pretty close together...
Once again the albino orc was thankful he'd spend the money on an air-burst link and all his neural enhancements, the Ares Alpha pointing towards the sky as he start calculating angles and timing.
[spoiler]Simple Action: Activate Wireless Mode on chambered flashbang grenade
Simple Action: Fire Wireless Grenade, aiming to air-burst it in the middle of the rappelling forces.
Free Action: Take advantage of Perfect Timing to detonate the grenade at the price moment needed.
Fire Grenade:
Heavy Weapons 4 + Agility 6 + grenade launcher specialization 2 + smartlink 2
fire grenade launcher (http://orokos.com/roll/302266): 14d6t5 2 hits
using Edge to reroll failures
fire grenade launcher: Edge Second Chance (http://orokos.com/roll/302267): 12d6t5 5 hits
total successes 7, Grenade launcher accuracy 6[/spoiler]
Snow Crashes tusked face breaking into an almost feral grin as the Ares Alpha *WHUMPS* once again, a wireless signal setting the flashbang of in the perfect center point of the rappelling team. Unfortunately it wasn't a frag or HE grenade to ensure the lines are destroyed, still, the flashbang just might stun and knock them around enough for at least some of them to fall.
-
The Frenchman was couldn't stop thinking about what ISaint had just told him. It was the first time in several months that the Frenchman had so precise information about his possible past.
Now one thing was for sure: that Runner couldn't die on this run! He was too valuable for the Frenchman.
But time was for securing the apartment. Gun in hand he exited his car, along with Mel. The two started to secure the Parking lot and the apartment hoping to soon join with the other scouts, when the world collapsed around them. They blew up the building!
Luckily the collapse of some parts of the antiquated building did not injure Mel or himself. The opposition team was really well equipped now with Shape charges.
Mel, let's find a way up, we need higher ground to defend and protect the others. If we go back down, we won;t be of much help. Having witnessed Mel's skills back at the hotel, he knew the two would have not much issue getting a floor or two up even if the access points to it were destroyed.
He just needed to get to a higher ground by a window or a newly made opening, and rain down fire on the ones down and possibly get a good view at the ones in the opposite building.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 2 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
Tobbis's car peels away as fast as its little heart could go. It wasn't that bright of a thing, but hey, it could drive better than he could at least.
A heli! Bombs... What the hell is going on! This couldn't all be the team from Oxford could it? How did they set up things so fast?
[spoiler]29th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
I'm assuming since its thursday, that we had an hour of rest time between Oxford and London
Rest from before (http://orokos.com/roll/302339): 12d6t5 6 If we did, I'm back to full power baby. Especially with that sleep regulator of mine.
Matrix Perception vs thier hacker (http://orokos.com/roll/302341): 13d6t5 2 13d6t5: 2 [13d6t5=2, 1, 4, 1, 3, 3, 2, 1, 5, 3, 1, 4, 6] such a garbage roll.. hopefully he doesn't score more hits on his running silent status.
[/spoiler]
-
X10003 looked around suspiciously, its sensors indicating that his brothers X10002 and X10001 are spieling down to oblivion. X10003 hoped that they will survive at least in software. He wasn't very bright compared to meta humanity but one thing X10003 knew with its autonomous programming is that if something is shooting at you you need to shoot back. He was angry and scared as much as a simple mass produced AI could feel these things, he had a gun attached, an AK-97 he sprayed bullets towards the men in the windows avenging his brothers death, he wasn't trying to hit anyone in particular he just shot and shot hoping that if they don't pull back they'll be hit eventually.
-
Smiley stopped for a second to brush a particularly wet bit of mud off of the sleeve of his jacket. The carry through of the charge through the middle of the mass of earth elemental had placed him far enough off the street to avoid the cars escaping the killzone. He saw the fast-ropers descend, and the grenade go off in their midst, then he was moving again, preparing to meet them as they reached the ground.
-
[Jackhammer -Wednesday June 17th, 2076 - At "Safehouse" - Forward Scout team - Current condition 0 damage - inside the apartment]
As the debris rained down, Aaron shielded himself and ducked out of the way, covering his mouth and eyes to keep the dust at bay. "What was that?!" he accidentally yelled as the blast left a bit of ringing in his ears. He was glad to have his helmet this time as apparently things were going to be falling towards his head. His reflexes went into high gear as he glanced around, instinctively looking for a new point of entry around or even through the rubble. "We need to find a way up!"
-
"Yeah...Sure...." Hallucination said as she tried to stay conciuss. "Yeah, they probably have at least some people on the rooftops, and if not we can at least see what the hell is going on!" She was really pissed off as she dragged herself out of the rubble that had been dumped all around her.
>>To: Tobias
>>Apartment was booby-trapped. Trying to get to the rooftop. Any idea what the frack is going on?
[Spoiler=OOC]Initiative 31 Link: http://orokos.com/roll/302473 post Count 12[/spoiler]
-
"Right" answered Mel to the Frenchman as she took her gun out and followed him. This was an unexpected turn of events, but things like this were to be expected in this field of work. Occupational hazard is what the slender elf reasoned, climbing and making her way up to the upper levels of the building.
-
Pride looks for the astral... focusing on the astral signature tying to point out the mage. She thinks..." maybe I can get a service for this. I can't wait to tell my friends that I met nonsense and he is a completely different person now! "
Solo texts enjoying having the throdes in his helmet... Finally he can talk to computers. << Guys... we need a fast car and gtfo, sure if you have an easy shot do it... but we really need to get them out of here... Frenchman is your amazing sports car nearby? that van looks like it have seen better days >> Or so it did before it became invisible.
Solo looked at the little drone and hoped that it will still be there in a split second... he had the begging of a plan it involved chasing that van with Frenchman's sports car and making the swap while both are invisible. The sports car was much faster and could perhaps out run most of the opposition. If only they manage to get the family out of the ally...
-
The Frenchman could smell two other presence nearby. One of them was familiar... the Shaman girl.... meaning the other was probably the new addition that helped with the Math Institute extraction.
He looked down an opening in the floor to find the two runners also trying to get to a higher ground. He didn't know what was left of the roof, neither if it was structurally sounded to stand on it, but a couple windows or opening on the upper floors should do it.
He whistled at Hallucination and the guy with the helmet and big rifle who called himself Jackhammer. Guys, over here.
The four runners would soon be in high enough to get the best vantage point and hopefully take care of the opposition to help their companions.
<<Solo, car is in the lot. Won't be able to carry the whole family though. >>
-
Solo texts... <<I am not sure we have better cars... perhaps the rental. But it is also possible that they are only after that main guy. >> Solo direct the rental autopilot to get close to the scene just in case the van would not make it out of that ally in one piece.
-
Sarah hurried over to where the Frenchman was as she climbed over debris.
<<Don't count on it, we could spread ourselves to thin on your gamble and end up with one of them dead. These people had to have some sort of transportation here. They probably have something that we can use.
Sarah prepared a spell as she followed the Frenchman.
-
Solo texts <<Hallucination... That van took a lot of damage - we could use all the help we can get to get it out... We should not fight here for too long who knows how many reinforcements and other nasty surprise they have. >>
He texts Al privately : << ... i need you guys to switch off all your wireless now. Not silent - turn off . I can see you guys and contact you don't worry. If they don't see your icons - you are only visible on the astral... and if we manage to geek that mage fast enough it means that you are invisible to anything but ultrasound... These are the best escape chances we can give you. >>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:23, Soho, London]
<Roger dodger. You've got my transceiver freqs.>>
Even as Al careened the van backwards up the alley in the wake of rat-boy's toy electric, he shouted back to the extractees as he briefly unlocked the smuggler compartment: "Ever'one wifi dark NOW. Use yer link's ta shut ever'thing slaved OFF. An' then check all yer wearables, implants, EVER'thing ta make sure it is OFF. Then shut that lid back up."
-
Think Solo, think quickly this is important. Solo's thoughts raced around the clock that split second was important. Things seemed to form a plan, the drone's instincts are going to keep the snipers under cover they may miss the witch craft that was about to happen. Anyone who is using astral eyes can be targeted in the astral and Daddy in the van had plenty of spirits. He rushed to Garr's tiny car and said to the sleeping hacker... << Can you drive? if not I can... we need to get out of here before we are all dead.>>
Texting one last text to the team he said: <<Guys... I know it sound corny - but we need geek their mage now! Smoke grenades are also welcome! Spiritual guys... Anything with astral eyes is open for astral combat... >> Coming to think about that, smoke gernades would also help if they never get that van out of the ally they'll need the cover.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
Tobbis's car pauses long enough to allow a friendly back into it, Solo finding himself in the traditional driver seat of the car, with the changeling curdled up and down low as possible. It was easier to fit into smaller spaces when you where the size of a child.
His voice coming in over the car's radio. "No I can't drive. Can't reach the petals and this thing isn't set up for rigging, not that I could do that either. I've got the auto pilot going, but if you're better at driving go right along and get us the hell out of here! Do you have your AR on? I can upload a rather powerful augmentative reality interface for you."
Even if the Elf didn't.. Tobbis ordered his machine spirte on his mask to go an enhance the car's interface for who ever would be driving it.
[spoiler]26 posts worth add to sheet - 30th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Empower Car's Driving ability - Machine Sprite Level 5 (http://orokos.com/roll/302757): 10d6t5 5 10d6t5: 5 [10d6t5=6, 2, 3, 1, 1, 5, 4, 6, 6, 5]
Kar go Fast!
[/spoiler]
-
Solo laughed... Assuming that Garr has some kind of microphone in the car he just spoke naturally: "of course I do... I'd feel naked without it... what kind of decker do you think I am ? now lets just hope that that van makes it out... I am no rigger but can drive better than dog brain. ... I am very excited about driving and shooting stuff from remote control... Sure james bonding seemed cool when I was younger... but If I learn enough I may survive a bit longer before someone gives me lead poisoning. " none of them was a professional rigger although Al seemed like a good driver. They were really out of their comfort zone.
After a short while... plugging the car to his RCC he said: "Your car... it seems different... almost like it wants to drive. Never had quite such car..."
-
Texting one last text to the team he said: <<Guys... I know it sound corny - but we need geek their mage now! Smoke grenades are also welcome! Spiritual guys... Anything with astral eyes is open for astral combat... >> Coming to think about that, smoke gernades would also help if they never get that van out of the ally they'll need the cover.
<<Point me to him and I'll take care of him. Which of those fraggers is he?>>
Isaint had started to run towards new cover since the car had just disappeared. He neither had time nor inclination to look into the Astral himself...
-
>>Not a problem.
Sarah concentrated on where the van used to be and began chanting. She poured power into it, and was rewarded when an illusion of the van appeared where the original van used to be. However the drain from the spell hit her like a club to the head, and she shook her head as she saw double for a few seconds.
[spoiler=OOC]Force 6 Trid Phantasam 6 hits link http://orokos.com/roll/302828. Resisting Drain of 6: 2 hits link: http://orokos.com/roll/302828 4 Stun damage, Stun Damage Track 6/11[/spoiler]
-
As they reach the roof, the Frenchman saw the chaos below. He lift up his head at the menacing shadow of the chopper that brought the elite force.
Hallucination, can you make me invisible? if so do it quick, I'm counting on you. He removed his Argentum coat, letting it fall next to Mel. Don't lose this, he told her. He Holstered back his gun and loosen so slightly his tie on his neck. Just had a terrible idea.... Then with one big breath, he ran at the remaining ledge and put all his energy into a mighty jump, hoping by then, Hallucination would have followed through with her spell...
As his body sprung off in the air, his vision was focused on only one thing: the closest line the armored guys used to rappel down to the alley. He simply had to catch it, on plunge into a painful fall.
[spoiler]
Gymnastic using Edge
Gymnastic to jump from the building and catch the line hooked to the chopper. (http://orokos.com/roll/302893): 23d6t5 8
Exploding 6s (http://orokos.com/roll/302896): 6d6t5 4
Exploding 6s (http://orokos.com/roll/302897): 1d6t5 0
12 successes.
[spolier]
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
Tobbis blinks as he glances at a message from Hallucination
@Hallucination
<<Beyond totally drekstorm, not a clue.>>
@All
<<Everyone, Patch me into any video audio or any other sensors you can give me. I'll give you all some guidance and we'll get out of this. There's a hacker somewhere around here, as soon as I find him, I've got a script I'm going to run against him that will force him to only attempt to hack me, I'll kill that little shit on his own futile attempts.>>
"Oh its far more than that. I've got somethings I've dug up from some pretty deep places. Right now the car is running all of its normal data, plus accessing multiple banks of information for every car, building, person, and the like, and calculating an advanced algorithm based upon the data to expand your capabilities in AR or VR. Unfortunately its not something that just anyone can learn."
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 31th Post - Correcting a bit of mistake from eariler. Only the first 24 were added, while I was at 25.
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
[/spoiler]
-
Sarah cursed as the Frenchman started jumping. She had barely had enough time to have the illusinary van blow up in a display of pyrotechnic before he started getting ready for his jump. She didn't want to risk mroe drain. To much and she could end up as a another body to be carted around at best. She hated wasting resources, but she dragged out a few ounces of the stone she had found at the edge of some anceint creature's grave in the western american deserts and drew the magic out of them instead. She was rewarded with the sight of the Frenchman fading out of sight in front of her.
[spoiler=OOC] 8 Drams spent for Spell limits
Spellcasting 18#1d6 8 hits link: http://orokos.com/roll/302972 [/spoiler]
-
"Great idea Garr" Said Solo.
"I am slaving the following devices to your comlink, with the appropriate Marks...
1. RCC
3. Flying eyes drones.
1. Rotodrone.
1. Growler bike.
1. Fancy rented car.
1. Machine pistol with wireless smartgun.
They should give give you the complete battle picture and if they will try to hack any of them, they'll be messing around with your iron firewall. I am even making wireless my pistol because some Deckers just *have* to hack smarlink guns... "
Quite quite... but that guy got balls thought Solo. I usually goes out of his my way not to be a decking target. For him decking is for stealth. Spot the enemy from distance... hack them before they see you. When they see you... you already failed. Beside having another pair of eyes with all the drone feeds may be very helpful especially when he is in VR and obviously has something planned out. Altough Solo can do many things he still cannot do everything at the same time, and with magic and driving planned there will be little time for hacking.
-
Snow Crash found himself in a rapidly depopulating kill zone, and if that flashbang didn't do anything about the team rappelling down he was in a really bad place.
Diving back into his car and gunning the engine he puts in into reverse and tries to get through under the levitated wreck before it dropped and trapped him in the kill zone...
[spoiler]Pretty sure this is a handling test.. still straight forward roll here.
Driving, handling test (http://orokos.com/roll/303201): 10d6t5 4 hits
Handling is 4 on-road...
No real idea if this is enough hits for this but it's the best i can do![/spoiler]
-
Solo use the levitated car to provide cover from sniper fire to the reversing cars... it was a big chunk of metal so he felt that it could actually work. He placed it at a height that seemed to block the firing angle from the approximated snipers location. They were more likely to make it out alive if they had some cover to back them, an an ambush like that was already a lot more than they bargained for.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
@Outside Team [Al, Snow Crash, Isaint, Daddy, Jackhammer, Smiley, Tobis, Solo]:
With a squeal of rubber the convoy bids a hasty farewell to the alley, strangely muted by the appearance of an identical van, or close enough, exploding in the point they just vacated. The illusion lasts seconds, even accommodating Snow’s car crashing through it, before another mind reaches out and wrenches the spell asunder…here’s hoping that the bastard suffered the same level of drain as Hallucination did in its creation…
@Inside Team [Mel, Hallucination, Frenchman, Duke]:
A rapid scramble through the debris takes the team to the upper levels just in time to allow Hallucination’s spell to conceal the departure of the rest of the team from the alley and to cloak the Frenchman in his heroic, or insane (as if there’s much difference), precipitous leap to one of the descent lines leaving him dangling some ten meters below the Hound helicopter…
Hallucination reels when her spell is destroyed but at least it gives her the focus to hold on to the one wrapping the Frenchman with greater strength…
@Outside Team:
Cover partially removed they are still able to use the distraction to make it to the alley entrance, still invisible, for now. Solo’s spirit cries out in glee as she is able to trace back the unravelling of Hallucination’s spell to a first floor window towards the mouth of the alley…
Coordinated fire in the alley cuts down the last of Solo’s drones as it attempts to pin the shotgun bum down under a barrage of fire. The three descenders touch down (having sailed through Snow’s flashbang apparently unharmed) and begin a bounding jog trot in the direction that Snow’s car and the others took, their armour piercing rounds joining those of Uzi girl as they pepper the front of the Americar…
***
#19
-
First thing is first: Solo bring down the levitated car. One spell is enough and now that the cars escaped, having a car blocking the ally is in their advantage. Will make it harder to chase them.
Solo was driving, pretending to be fleeing the scene like a cowered, but in reality keeping eye contact with the van. Since Solo has cast the illusion he was not effected by it himself. No mage falls for his own illusions and not for lack of trying... Solo hoped that his teammates would give him some of the curtsy of the doubt, but it all happened too fast. It was just improvising, he had no idea if the wild plan was going to work.
The third drone feeds went dark as a haze of static replaced the drones sensors... "not again... " thought Solo... "I did not have any time to enjoy my toys before they were massacred..." No time to waste he thought:
Solo used the spirit hint, being mentally connected he knew just where to shot, but focusing on the spell and shooting was not an easy task. As the car left the ally Solo sprayed that window with bullets.
[spoiler]
Shoot full auto as simple action with Ares Alpha -5 to defense Wireless smartgun is sadly offline Solo has 13 dice to fire, he dropped concentration of the levitated car. He just maintain invisibility so 11 dice left.
Fire Full auto (simple) (http://orokos.com/roll/304735): 11d6t5 5
if he hits the damage is 11P , -2 (Ares Alpha with regular ammo).
[/spoiler]
While doing so, he used his throdes to mentally text:
>> Team, the mage is first floor... right at the mouth of the ally- I am sending one of the flying eye for better view. You all receive its feeds now. This is prime target.
[spoiler]
If the mage is dual natured the spirit will charge him with astral combat otherwise it cannot do much as it is still in the astral.
Astral Combat (http://orokos.com/roll/304681): 16d6t5 5
If he is not I'll have the spirit materialize in the van to help them escape.
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
Reversing at speed bumper-to-bumper with the Jackrabbit to his rear while shouting orders at the flustered family that were his charges, Al did his best to keep track of everything going on.
He could hear the chopper above him - and suddenly he could see it! - above and just ahead of him - deadly SWAT ninjas fastroping down. It was as though a new window had opened up in the roof of the van's cab, and a microsecond later he realized his entire vehicle was like one huge window - looking down he could see the filthy alley floor beneath his feet. Of course he lost his rear-facing camera feed, and instinctively glancing at his side mirrors, they were gone too! He would have smacked into rat-boy's minicar had the anti-collisions not kicked in at the last moment - right, their radar operated outside the visible spectrum.
So weird was the sensation that it actually took his razor-sharp brain a few ticks to realize that if he wanted to see to the rear of the windowless van bed, he now had but to turn and look. But before he could do so his front view was engulfed in fire as he watched a replica of his Bulldog appear in front of him and just as quickly vaporize in a cloud of superheated petroleum. Damn, how many Satanists was this crew packing? Whatever, he could figure out a way to buy back his soul later, now he had to drive. Placing his left arm over the back of Spike's seat, he turned and asked: "Lord o' lightnin', Daddy, you do that?" at which point he swerved to dodge an errant dumpster, and his move sent the black magician's head into an invisible tool case near the roof, and the man was down for the count.
And then he was turning the corner out onto the street, narrowly avoiding two oncoming and altogether unsuspecting motorists. He deftly shifted out of reverse even as he forced his tires to find traction on the asphalt, and shot forward. It was tearing at him to leave his dismounted companions behind, but his first concern had to be the innocent family in the back. And it was no good staying in the enemy's deathbox anyway. He switched off his commlink, yelling for the boy to do the same to Daddy's.
He could no longer see the array of warning lights on his dash, but he'd never have used them anyway - anything he needed to know about how his baby was doing he could tell from the uneven vibrations in the seat under him, the tone of the engine's forlorn whine, and the angry smells washing up to him from the undercarriage. Sensing a problem, he eased back on the RPMs and wondered where he was going next.
-
"Frag." Despite a solid hit that penetrated even the hardened armor, this opponent kept moving, indicating another layer of protection or heavy augmentation. Either way this was no longer a place he wanted to stay. He wondered a bit how he and the others could have missed the bulk of the armor under the ratty coat, but that was a question for a later time.
Right now he was still trying to shoot his way out of a war zone. He stashed his gun back into his holster and readied the rifle. All the while he moved towards cover and in the direction of his bike.
He stopped for a moment jumping like a hare and brought the shotgun man into his sights. Again he fired a tightly grouped round of shots.
"Let's see if you shrug that one off."
He was dimly aware of the car with the family vanishing, reappearing, blowing up and disappearing again in quick succession, but he just had no brain capacity left to parse the events. There were still to many targets left.
#54
[spoiler]
Ini 28:
Simple action: Stash gun
Simple action: Ready rifle from sling
Ini 18:
Full defense
Ini 8:
Complex action: Semi Auto BULLS-EYE BURST at Foe #4
Agi 8 + Skill 8(Rifle) +1 Smartlink -4 Special Attack
Semiauto Bulls Eye Burst (http://orokos.com/roll/304732): 13d6t5 7 [13d6t5=6, 1, 3, 6, 6, 2, 5, 3, 2, 6, 6, 2, 5]
Dodge this!
11P AP 13 (or 21 depending on your reading of the rules) + net successes
[/spoiler]
-
Smiley gets the message and the feed, smoothly turning his movement towards the window in question. As the bullets removes the glass, the Amerind dives through the opening using his momentum to add to the power of the wheel kick he throws as he regains his feet inside the small space.
[spoiler]
Gymnastics to dive through the window and cartwheel kick mage (Mostly to make it look pretty 8) ) (http://orokos.com/roll/304790): 8d6t5 2
Martial Arts kick using Inertia Strike (http://orokos.com/roll/304791): 12d6t5 4
Edge reroll on misses (http://orokos.com/roll/304792): 8d6t5 3
7 hits total
Total of 7 vs target physical limit to Knockdown
(May have messed up the roll, and lost 3 hits on it, but doesn't change the effect if it hits)[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
Snow Crash swore and ducked as multiple rounds pinged of and thudded into the car, the albino orc glad for the sturdy tank of a car as the engine started to make some rather unhealthy sounds but kept rolling, the light glittering off the shards of glass blasted into the cab by armor piercing rounds smashing through the windscreen.
Sow Crash started loosing a blistering stream of curses as his car takes another couple of hits, showing him with more glass and producing seriously unhealthy knocking and even smoke from the engine... somehow the thing was still operating and hadn't blown up, or at least not completely. Not quite out of the alleyway the combat decker did about the only thing he could, reaching for the machine pistol and driving one handed while the other fired several wild bursts at the milspec team. He had no hopes of hurting them, especially after they shrugged off the flashbang grenade, but hoping to get them to duck for cover or at least snow down enough for him to get out onto the street.
Having enough self preservation to stash the gun again he pulled back into the street, engine smoking and shuddering, but still somehow ticking over. as he turned he realized two things... one, the van was still invisible, two, the occupants where matrix dark... for a moment he almost panicked having no idea where the van was, until he noticed some rather unusual traffic patterns and maneuvers, figuring them to be the result of a foul mouthed maniac careening around in an invisible van the orc moves into the traffic, trying to ignore the myriad of warning lights on his dash... the lack of some of them rather worrying, as well as the acrid stench from the badly damaged hybrid engine wafting in through the bullet hole riddled windscreen.
Patching my comlin into Al's subvocal mic system "Al, Snow Crash here. Back on the street and moving to rejoin, my car's shot to all hell though, damned thing is barely running, glad I'm not a rigger... not to mention the smoke and bullet holes are going to draw attention. Your call, I can ride flank to provide some buffer, or I can peel off and maybe draw some heat away. Not an ideal option, but the last thing we need is law enforcement asking why I'm driving a three quarter's smouldering wreck down a main street."
[spoiler]Honestly, I'm not even going to bother rolling for the attack, this was beyond spray and pray.
Just going to do the control vehicle roll as normal... have no idea what driving a vehicle with 15 points of damage would do to my rolls.
*Rummages through the book* Ohh... there we go, penalty to handling limit... whelp :o
OK... well...
Reaction 6 + Pilot Ground Vehicle 2 + Wheeled Specialization 2
Control Vehicle (http://orokos.com/roll/305231): 10d6t5 3 hits
Ford Americar Handling 4, -5 damage modifier minimum 1. Final limit 1
*whimper*[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
While Solo helped driving the vehicle out and away from the scene, Tobbis began working on the defense for the matrix.
Castle walls of data burst forth from the ground of the matrix surrounding Tobbis's persona and the devices he had slaved to his commlink. Standing up on the spire he began scanning the far reaches of data looking for the enemy decker. "Come at me bro." he says
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 31th Post - Correcting a bit of mistake from eariler. Only the first 24 were added, while I was at 25.
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Every combat round Tobbis spends 10 Initiative points to go into total matrix defense so his willpower is added to all his defense tests.
Matrix Perception vs thier hacker (http://orokos.com/roll/305228): 13d6t5 6 13d6t5: 4 [13d6t5=2, 3, 1, 5, 6, 5, 3, 2, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3
Defense vs Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/305230): 12d6t5 212d6t5: 2 [12d6t5=4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 2, 4, 3]
I wasn't suppose to put rule of six on this, but accidentally did. Luckily it puts whatever explodes into brackets with the first number being the one actually rolled. So its just 11 hits on my brute force defense.
Defense vs Brute Force (http://orokos.com/roll/305229): 21d6h5 12 21d6h5: 12 [21d6h5=[6, 6, 4], 1, 2, [6, 4], [6, 1], 5, 4, [6, 4], 1, [6, 1], 3, 5, 1, [6, 1], 1, 3, [6, 1], 3, [6, 1], 1, 5]
Hopefully he tries to brute force me. Cause this was less than spectacular. However, I would spend edge on this if needed to reroll lost hits.
Defense against Hack on the Fly/Dataspike (http://orokos.com/roll/305233): 19d6t5 319d6t5: 3 [19d6t5=4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 2, 5, 2, 1, 2, 5]
[/spoiler]
-
Still firing Solo dash to the car, and begins driving... the sleeping decker had to be removed from this hellhole... there were way too many insane people with assault rifles running around and shooting people.
He did his best to make sure that no one is able to occupy the 'free' space occupied by Al's car.
[spoiler]
Pilot ground craft + diagnostics 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/305286): 17d6t5 4
Limit is 4 + 1 from AR enabled driving (it is also way cooler) + what ever the machine spirit give I am a little fuzzy on techno mage rules. 4 hits are kept.
[/spoiler]
-
Finally the shot gun guy went down.
And stay down
Isaint had time to take a quick look around. Three new players had arrived and their armor made abundantly clear, that they weren't a bunch of bottle cap collectors.
He did a double take when he saw, that the Frenchman now was climbing up where the three had come down.
That guy is seriously crazy - and good.
<<Head's up Frenchman. As soon as you get up there, I'll try to knock out the pilot. So be prepared to avoid a crash.>>
This would be a difficult shot, so Isaint took the time to do it right.
[spoiler]
Round 3:
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/305246): 15+4d6 28
Phase 1: Activate hightened concentration (28)
Phase 2: Simple action: Body Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/305248): 7d6t5 18
Simple action: Aim
Phase 3: Semi auto Bullseye Burst at Pilot (8)
Agi 8 + Skill 8 + 1 Smart + 1 Aim -1 Special Attack (w/ hightened concentration)
Shoot the chopperpilot (http://orokos.com/roll/305249): 17d6t5 9 [17d6t5=2, 6, 6, 2, 5, 5, 2, 5, 3, 6, 6, 4, 4, 2, 4, 5, 5]
11P AP 13/21 (you know the drill by now ;) )
[/spoiler]
-
Previous to this I would have used one of my extra actions in round 1 to Attribute boost.
Attirbute Boost (Agility and Strength) (http://orokos.com/roll/305569): 2#10d6t5 1 3
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/305576): 3d6 14 24 total
Continuing in round 2:
Smiley is only on his feet for a second as he dives on the mage and starts to wrap him up for a quick Subdual.
Subdual of mage (AGI + MA +Superior position) (http://orokos.com/roll/305577): 16d6t5 5
He hooks his feet around the legs and goes to lock in a rear naked choke, as his hand brushes across the mage's hair to lock in the hold he leans in close and whispers in his ear.
"Unless you want to end up like your elemental, with a gaping hole in your chest, go limp and take a nap, your fight is done."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
The high street ahead was meant to be two lanes, but rows of cars parked along both sides narrowed it to barely one. Knowing he'd be screwed if there was any oncoming traffic, he nearly rolled the van and almost sideswiped Snow making a hard left into an alley. By the time he emerged from the other side he was pushing a pile of old crates, two oil barrels, and some homeless schmuck's house in front of him. Reemerging into a wider thoroughfare and shaking off the blinding load of debris, he looked back and saw the Jackrabbit and the Americar - who'd been surprised by his sudden turn - also come out of the alley and accelerate back to their positions on his flanks.
Around then was when he realized that the family behind him was screaming like banshees. The father was in the smuggler compartment, and they could all see but not touch him. It was sound-baffled, but from his face he was shrieking as loudly as his wife and kids. They'd been surprisingly calm in the face of extraction, explosions, giant earth demons, and bullets, but apparently speeding along the street in apparent flight was too much for them. The girl yelled something obscene and despairing and tried to jump free, but simply crashed into an invisible side panel. Well, at least she was quiet now.
Al was just about to be impressed that Spike was keeping his cool so well when, just as a huge tipper truck (what they called dump trucks in this crazy country) was bearing straight down on him, the huge hound leaped with a whine onto his lap, the beast's weight dragging both of Al's skinny arms off the steering wheel. Desperately trying to wrestle the slobbering, panicked dog off, Al just managed to catch his right knee on the wheel while stamping on the brake with his left foot, sending him into a power slide that missed the clueless monster lorry by a few coats of paint.
The dog wasn't budging, but Al managed to get one hand back on the wheel. <<We goin' anywhere in pertickalar, or's ol' Al jist takin' in the sights here?>>
-
Solo approaches Al, and go over the driver window to speak, to him the car is not invisible. "you have some remarkable driving skills - I think I learned quite a bit just trying to follow you. We need to discreetly remove you and the family from the van - and keep the invisible van going until it makes an accident or something. That will buy us some time to get you guys new wheels and to send the new car to a new safehouse. We need to be quick while the lead is still flying. I rather have the special forces storm an empty van then fight with the family so close. "
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
Al heard Solo's plan over the road noise and through the window, but just barely. Eyes glued to the road, he groped along the invisible armrest for the right button and put the window halfway down. Part of his brain wondered if this meant people could see his head now, but he was way past caring.
Spike wasted no time in trying to squeeze out through the small space, forcing Al to grip the confused animal's foreleg to keep him from escaping. Pushing his own face alongside the slobbering dog's, Al shouted back, "Now that's got good idear written all over it..."...a glob of canine saliva blew back into one cybereye as he swerved to avoid an ambulance at a busy intersection, but he never stopped talking..."...'cept fer one thing - this is my ride an' I ain't leavin' it. You'll have a better chance anyway if'n I keep drivin' 'er. Figure how ya wanna make the switch, an' we'll make 'er happen."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
As Snow Crash tries to get the car into a flanking position he quickly realizes that more than just the engine was hit, that was the cause of many of the warning lights sure, but it's the control systems with no warnings that where the issue, completely shot out and non-functional making the car barely controllable.
Patching through to Al's subvocal system and Solo's coms "Frag, OK here's the deal chummers. We keep driving like this, I stick with. But if this starts turning into a chase I'm gonna peel off and head down some side streets. This car is fragged, I can't even keep it in a straight line anymore, if I tried any fancy stunt driving I'm going to lose what little control I've got, best I can do in a pursuit is try and draw attention away."
-
Solo ads:
"We just took all their Deckers away... Tobias is also in that jackrabbit... he is a matrix animal tough.
The way I see it this is your ride and Snow's car is busted. We have the jackrabbit that is only good for two and is undamaged, we also have the fancy ride for the hotel but it has room for 4 or maybe 5 people. Al - I am not sure that we can full everyone with an invisible cars... plans that depend only on magic are unpredictable. The rental and my bike are not far from here. I think we could use the rental and jackrabbit as new rides. What do you guys say?
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
<<Ten-four to a Chinese fire drill>> Al replied, still struggling to get his dog out of his field of vision. <<Lead the way to the back-up rides. Anyhoo, looks like our boon compadres done stopped anyone tailin' us, so let's slow things down and de-invisblize. That was a right slick play, but now it's attractin' more attention than it's avoidin'.>>
As if to puncuate his point, no sooner had he finished speaking than a rice rocket and leather-clad rider plowed right into the side of the Bulldog. Al sped along merrily, but did poke his head out the window to yell, "Hey, look where yer goin'!"
<<Well, maybe jist let me git 'round the corner now, an' then stop the spell.>> All he needed was another hit-and-run talled up on his favorite fake registration.
Slowing down to a less breakneck pace, much to the relief of his gasping van, he realized that, once they did get the family into new cars and made sure there was no pursuit, they now had nowhere to take them.
-
The spirit Solo summoned was a succubus, a creature of passion, of love and life. The sight of the helicopter spiraling down from the sky seemed disturbing. Many people were about to die, and being a creature of mana she could sense the fear in the well trained soldiers auras.
"Solo you have to look at this... something really bad is about to happen. Please, I am begging you release me of these magical bounds... I cannot just idly watch them crush." She was crying, as much as spirits could cry.
Spirits were manipulative but no spirit ever begged him of anything, they were proud creatures and usually happy to work with Solo being curious about his nature.
"Okay spirit I will help you. Your next service is to free these people. I leave it vague in order to give you enough room for improvisation. I will help you. You need to materialize in the cockpit and turn wireless on. I'll bring one of the flying eyes so I can see and guide you what to do. We have the telepathic link so just describe what you see and I'll try to locate the right bottom to press".
Solo Yelled for Tobias and Snow: "GUYS!!! that copter is wifi dark and is about to crush in the middle of london. My spirit is trying to get wireless on - use your matrix skills and try to learn how to do it. Once she does - if we want to be on the winning team, hack it quicker than the other team can reclaim control over it."
Solo then fired a broadcast in all frequencies <<Turn copter online it is going to crush!!!>>
The spirit materialized in the cock pit as Solo instructed and started describing what she sees. In the meanwhile Solo tired to browse the matrix and find any kind of data on these helicopters, get a visual with his flying eyes and try to understand what bottom to press in order to turn the copter wireless active.
[spoiler]
Search manual of helicopter turn wifi on (http://orokos.com/roll/305904): 16d6t5 4[/spoiler]
-
Isaint's shots hit their mark with uncanny precision as if the saints themselves hat guided bis hand to bring down the dragon. But now the machine started to spin around its own axis and rapidly lost altitude.
Well, shit. That worked horribly right. Isaint hadn't expected that there would be no autopilot active. And now the Frenchman was falling - not unlike himself in Istanbul but without the benefit of a nearby swimming pool but at least it was only 6 meters to the roof and not 60.
And yet he felt only little guilt: It had not been bis decision to stage a war here. The survival oft bis team came first.
<<Team, the heli is going down, brace for impact and disengage from the enemy. There is nothing to win for us here.>>
Again he let bis rifle drop into its sling and started to run to bis bike, weaving and dodging to avoid gunfire and little bits of helicopter that shortly would litter the ground around here.
[spoiler]
Ini (http://orokos.com/roll/305988): 15+4d6 29
Full defense, running to bike, getting the hell out of this alley.
#56
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
Snow Crash to the team channel "The chopper is crashing? What the fragging hell is going on out there?! Anyway I can't help, I'm no rigger, I know frag all about flying aircraft and I need all my focus just to keep this car moving vaguely in the direction I want."
All the albino decker could do was shake his head and keep an even more white knuckle grip on the wheel making the constant corrections needed to keep a vehicle unable to drive in a straight line moving in the one direction.
[spoiler]Should have done this a while back... total post tally 41[/spoiler]
-
When the mage is out and stuffed in a convenient closet, Smiley begins moving in the direction of the remaining snipers. While doing so he places a call, "Art, you had better start talking fast, what the frag is going on?"
-
Solo has no time to explain.
<<Snow, just try to find what bottom to press to activate wireless - then we can take control>>
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - Solo's Chatroom]
"Busy" was the response over the radio. Tobbis didn't have time to put a mark or three on the helichopper and then save it. That would take far too long for him to do. If only some one had some magical powers to fling it a different direction. Instead, he was focused on his job, removing the only matrix threat he could see.
And he knew the best way to do it.Sadly, the guy was not in VR, but could be running a hotsim card in his deck for super AR mode. But that would have to wait.. Instead strands of resonance begin to circle around the drekhead
<<Assist me.>> he says to his data sprite, before sending out another message.
<<I'm taking on their decker. If something is bad in meat, then it has to be dealt with in meat. Use the thing that picked up the one thing.>>
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 32th Post - Correcting a bit of mistake from eariler. Only the first 24 were added, while I was at 25.
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Every combat round Tobbis spends 10 Initiative points to go into total matrix defense so his willpower is added to all his defense tests.
Matrix Perception vs thier hacker (http://orokos.com/roll/305228): 13d6t5 6 13d6t5: 4 [13d6t5=2, 3, 1, 5, 6, 5, 3, 2, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3
Defense vs Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/305230): 12d6t5 212d6t5: 2 [12d6t5=4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 2, 4, 3]
I wasn't suppose to put rule of six on this, but accidentally did. Luckily it puts whatever explodes into brackets with the first number being the one actually rolled. So its just 11 hits on my brute force defense.
Defense vs Brute Force (http://orokos.com/roll/305229): 21d6h5 12 21d6h5: 12 [21d6h5=[6, 6, 4], 1, 2, [6, 4], [6, 1], 5, 4, [6, 4], 1, [6, 1], 3, 5, 1, [6, 1], 1, 3, [6, 1], 3, [6, 1], 1, 5]
Hopefully he tries to brute force me. Cause this was less than spectacular. However, I would spend edge on this if needed to reroll lost hits.
Defense against Hack on the Fly/Dataspike (http://orokos.com/roll/305233): 19d6t5 319d6t5: 3 [19d6t5=4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 2, 5, 2, 1, 2, 5]
Getting Data Sprite to Assist adding +5 dice to my next test for a complex form.
[/spoiler]
-
Solo barely saw Tobias reply, he had his own problem trying to nail a nova hot Decker. Solo was used to working alone, he was sure that he is capable of saving that helicopter. However, when he worked alone there were rarely HTR teams or helicopters that collapse in the middle of London. The job was smaller the risk was lower and with some decking magic and talking he'd get the job done.
He had to try, the spirit was crying - she was a part of a small group of spirits that kept answering his calls, always giving him more force than he asked for, asking questions about him. He had special relationship with the spirit world - and if a proud spirit that was smarter than any meta human could hope to be, asked for a favor - Solo just had to do his best. Beside - innocent deaths were unwanted no matter how desperate you are.
Solo either killed already, or helped killing he was not sure what was going on but with the spirit and its astral fighting, the automatic fire and some martial art was it? That mage was geeked alright. But the mage was hardly innocent - you do not provoke some of the best runners in London and hope to survive you just do not do these things. Shooting a chopper out of the sky, stuck wifi dark without autopilot or any method of remote control... Having it crush in a populated area, this is the kind of stuff that reaches the news headlines - and this kind of attention is very bad for business.
-
Fragging hell, this is getting out of hand... I can't both try and fly a chopper and drive this hunk of dreck.
There was really only one way to get out of this mess.
patching through to Al and Solo "Alright, I can try and grab control of the chopper, but I can't do it while trying to drive this pile of dreck.. pull over, and we can pile the rest of my kit in Solo's car then I can take the back seat while I try and grab the chopper. Sure as dreck can't promise any fancy flying but I should at least be able to gain basic control over it."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
The van turning visible had caused a few screeches of tires and brakes, but Al just snorted - he'd been going to miss them anyway. The weird thing was the feeling of a physical jolt - although the cessation of the satanic dweomer had no effect on the inertia of the vehicle, the abrupt resumption of visual stimuli made him swear they'd been rear-ended by a semi.
But no time to think about that now - apparently the SWAT ninjas' chopper was about to crash into some tenement or other, and the wizards needed to know what button would connect it to their computer geeks.
Exactly who was going to do the button pressing he had no idea, but he spoke into his lapel mic: <<There's a line of four switches above the pilot's head an' a little to the left, each with an indicator light. All four gotta be inna up position.>>
Even if they got the switches flipped, if that bird was going down, they'd have to be fast - but then those VR types were on a whole different time scale in their imaginary little world.
Having done all he could to help, he had plenty else to worry about. His own console also had its fair share of indicator lights, and a whole lot of them were on. Looked like his radiator was a sieve - he had to slow down or she'd overheat. Losing transmission pressure - he could nurse that along for a bit. And he reckoned he'd need to swap out the carb, but she'd run for now, even if only on a couple of cylinders.
If any of that was a worry, you'd never know from looking at Spike. Somehow, he was back up on his seat, and when Al shot him a remonstrative glance he just looked back as if nothing had happened. Cheeky mutt.
Sounded like Snow needed him to stop, so he pulled off the street under an overpass behind a parked truck that looked like it was blocking the traffic cam fairly well, and the first thing he did was turn his commlink back on, switch the ID on his PA/N, and morph his plates and spoof his reg chip to match, broadcasting at the minimum legally required strength, as usual.
<<Okay, do what yer gonna - I done cleaned my sig, an' wanna keep movin'. Anyone know yet where we takin' these folks?>>
-
As soon as they managed to pull over Snow Crash killed the engine then popped the back, motioning for Solo to do the same to his car he started grabbing various pieces of gear, some for combat, much of it for electronics work and stuffing them into Solo's car. This was slowed down somewhat by needed to access some hidden compartments to retrieve some of the more illegal items, but he'd used this car for years and knew it inside out so it didn't take very long to strip the car of his gear. Then he did a second kind of stripping, using his ownership status to into the root systems and doing a full format and factory reset, removing any indication that he'd ever owned this vehicle... He didn't like leaving it behind like this, but it would cost almost as much to repair as it would replace with the amount of damage it had sustained, so best to make sure it didn't leave a digital trail that could be followed.
With this done he nodded to Al and folded himself into Solo's car. "Well, looks like this time you're the one helping me to bug out Wizard. You get me access to that chopper, and I'll see what I can do about stopping it crashing. it's not going to be pretty or elegant, but we're out of options here."
As he settled i and got ready for another jaunt into VR, glad he'd got the new Coprocessor, he sent a message to Al <<No idea where we're going, At the moment our best move is to keep mobile until things settle down and we can make firmer plans.>>
With that out of the way the albino orc buckled in and let his head drop, diving back into Hot-Sim VR.. it felt GREAT! He was somewhat used to the rush of virtual sensations, but the new co-processor had increased his bandwidth allowing even more sensations to come over him at once as well as increasing his ability to act. It took only a moment's thought for him to flit back to the ambush site, he wasn't hidden, he had one specialty, speed, and now was the time to use it.
[spoiler]Entering VR, second time this night... not sure if you'll call for addiction on this or not.
Also deck is reconfigured. A6(1)/D5(1)/S3/F5 Overclocker is boosting Data Processing by 1, also Decrypt program is boosting Attack by 1.
Programs loaded: Baby Monitor, Signal Scrub and Decrypt.
New initiative:
Boosted Hot Sim Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/306129): 5d6+11 27
As soon as the Chopper goes WiFi on I'll use Brute Force, 3 marks and use my last point of Edge to Push the Limit.
Cybercombat 6 + Logic 8 + Hot Sim 2 + Edge 5 - three marks 6
Brute Force + Push the Limit (http://orokos.com/roll/306131): 15d6h5! 7 hits
With 3 marks I should be able to use Control Device to make the Complex Actions needed to keep the aircraft under control.[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - At snow's feet]
"Hey watch it!" A voice comes over the radio as Snow begins to enter the car. Curled up in the foot area was the little changeling technomancer. "Running Anti-decker interference."
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 34th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Every combat round Tobbis spends 10 Initiative points to go into total matrix defense so his willpower is added to all his defense tests.
Matrix Perception vs thier hacker (http://orokos.com/roll/305228): 13d6t5 6 13d6t5: 4 [13d6t5=2, 3, 1, 5, 6, 5, 3, 2, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3
Defense vs Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/305230): 12d6t5 212d6t5: 2 [12d6t5=4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 2, 4, 3]
I wasn't suppose to put rule of six on this, but accidentally did. Luckily it puts whatever explodes into brackets with the first number being the one actually rolled. So its just 11 hits on my brute force defense.
Defense vs Brute Force (http://orokos.com/roll/305229): 21d6h5 12 21d6h5: 12 [21d6h5=[6, 6, 4], 1, 2, [6, 4], [6, 1], 5, 4, [6, 4], 1, [6, 1], 3, 5, 1, [6, 1], 1, 3, [6, 1], 3, [6, 1], 1, 5]
Hopefully he tries to brute force me. Cause this was less than spectacular. However, I would spend edge on this if needed to reroll lost hits.
Defense against Hack on the Fly/Dataspike (http://orokos.com/roll/305233): 19d6t5 319d6t5: 3 [19d6t5=4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 2, 5, 2, 1, 2, 5]
On the next IP Data Sprite to Assist adding +5 dice to my next test for a complex form.
Resonance Veil - New Icon appears - Level 2 - Blow the Limit (http://orokos.com/roll/306897): 20d6h5 11
Ain't no way he's seeing through that probably.
[/spoiler]
-
Solo was wowed... Oh frag Al knows what to do. Saint Al, the savior from heavenly fire. It did not take more than a mere thought to transmit the instruction to the spirit. Snow was sleeping in the VR dream there was no time. Solo already knew that he was an amazing decker, if anyone can save the chopper fast enough it was Snow.
He opened his eyes and looked at the chopper, he wasn't the sensitive type but the spirit emotions overwhelmed him. It was as if they shared a mind and over the years have moved closer together in world perspective, as much as a person can be similar to a spirit. However, a spirit that go out of her way to save people... that was completely new. Solo hoped that it work, if anyone could just pop up in that driver seat and do the trick it was a spirit, and with so little time, the brutal methods of Snow where ideal. It was how he liked it, quick dirty and bold.
-
The spirit barely managed to have a look in the cockpit... there were no bottoms, no manual operation option. Embarrassed, she did not know what to do, despite its intellect she was completely unaware of AR. She was nothing more than a baby in a strange world she knew nothing about. She watched in horror as the chopper crushed into one of the tennaments nearby, it was not a good neighborhood but they did not deserve to die.
The pain and horror overflowed Solos telepathic link - he was unused of this kind of emotion. His heart was darken by years of running the shadows, he felt alive and a terrible person.
There was no time to grieve, Solo felt terrible to identify this dark moment as an opportunity, but a chopper crush was a good diversion. Ninja boys have far greater concerns now than hunting them. Oh they will come - but at the moment being still in combat with the roping guys injured or killed and a bunch of angry runners that expected to be paid - they have more troubles than to hunt a bunch of escaping Deckers. It seemed cold and cowardly but any possibility of getting paid required keeping the family safe.
Solo's rental car and bike tailed the gang, overwhelmed with emotions. Solo texted >> sorry about the distraction I know it was insane but I just had to try it crushed into a building fool of SINless squatters... nobody will even be kind enough to call their families. Our crazy plan was the only thing going on for these people.
Anyhow the rental is here, it has a room for 4 maybe five people. I can move to the bike, Tobias is indeed small - but three in this circus car is a bit odd. Remind me about an old joke.
Are you ready to make a switch Al?
Despite his cooperate education, Solo had a soft spot for SINless being killed randomly without even thinking about it. His entire family was wiped out just to get an awaken from birth baby into cooperate control with no strings attached. Just as if they were not even people. Back then, nobody seemed to care or the cooperate was powerful enough to hush it up. Oh, these guys got what they deserved when Solo had each and everyone killed in the same way in an operation that took years to plan, but these were dark times.
-
The orc decker comes back to his body with a shudder, even from the Matrix the crash wasn't a pretty sight, multiple public broadcasts providing different viewpoints on the scene. Red pupiled crystal blue eyes watching Solo, noticing the grim, even pained expression.
"That was fragged up... hell, maybe those guys got the locals out of the way before they setup..." the albino orc of frowning, shaking his head. softly in Orzet "Why don't I feel more..." he keeps an eye on Solo, he can see how much this has effected the jack of all trades runner... for himself, he wasn't sure if he was actually feeling grief and anger at the wasteful situation, or he was just mentally going through the motions.
-
"You are the one getting sentimental my friend... nobody ever consider the SINless" Solo sighs. As the seconds pass, Solo tries to break the awkward silence. He tells Snow Crush and Al:
"Something is different about my mojo it felt like I was in there with the spirit. I messed up mate - this matrix stuff seems obvious to me that I keep forgetting that spirits are completely unaware. I told her to turn on wireless, trivial to me... I do not even think about it but she just watched the controls helplessly... Everything was in AR, there were no manual controls to watch. It was like trying to explain to a grandma how to hack in a split second. Some people just don't get it. I should have told her to unplug the pilot or something physical."
Solo then mentally texted:
<<Guys... if someone can bring a life ninja... We'll know who is peeing in our pool >>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
Al cursed inwardly.
He hadn't figured even the virtuo-boys could outrun a chopper crash, but he'd been praying he was wrong.
Now, it seemed he'd been wrong about something else.
"My bad, amigos. Ol' Al keeps fergittin' lots o' these young hotshots strip out their manuals these days."
But he was never one to feel much angst over things caused by other people. And they still had work to do.
<<Anyhoo, yeah, ready ta pull over an' move to the better wheels. Who's drivin'?>>
-
<<Are you kidding Solo? I had enough trouble bringing one of those guys down who wasn't wearing his helmet. The best I can do is get you some DNA or maybe an eyeball. Get the hell away from here, before they get their act together and sent the two replacement helis.>>
The screeching sound of a heck rotor colliding with an apartment building, followed immediately by the wirring sound of high speed main rotor fragments peppering the area and several tons of motor and heli cabin hitting first the walls and than the ground interrupted Isaint's message.
<<Status everyone, are you still alive?>>
-
<<Isaint, I did not realize it was that bad. We're on roads with the family. You seemed to be doing extremely well with that chopper going down so quickly and we geeked the mage on the way out.
I am having my spirit conceal everyone that is still breathing in there. They can still spot you - It is not idiot proof, but may save your asses if you are a bit sneaky to begin with. Just get the fuck out of there, I am sending my bike in remote control if anyone is brave enough for my driving feel free to hop on. >>
Solo thought: "Spirit I am sorry about it... Your last service is to conceal the rest of the team members in the combat. Once the combat is over you are free to go wherever you came from.I am so sorry you had to see that."
To Al: "Care to drive? I am sending the bike to see if there are any survivors looking for a ride... Not the best wheel for a rescue operation but we do what what we can with what we have"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
"Don't mind if I do," was Al's reply as he parked his featureless white Bulldog in front of the rental.
He popped the back doors as well as the smuggler compartment. The latter turned out not to have been needed, but he reckoned math guy had just endangered his whole family and indirectly cost dozens of people their lives just to double what was already a six-figure compensation package, so wouldn't hurt to put him through the wringer a little.
He and Spike trotted around to the rear. The kids were helping dad out of the cramped space. He looked pastier than usual - it hadn't been a smooth ride, and Al hoped he wouldn't have to clean the space out. "Alrighty, that there van might still be hot, this here ride probably is not. So in ya git. An' Spike rides up front."
He started loading a few bags into the new car. The trunk, er, boot, wouldn't have space for all of his tools, but he took all the weapons, all the demolitions gear, and the flash medkit. Turning to Solo, he said, "Me an' Spike plus Math Family Robinson here, we's full. You'll have ta take Sleeping Daddy with you. Reckon I'm gon' drive 'round inconspicuous, spend time in some better neighborhoods, an' wait for y'all to figure out the next drop."
And then he got into the driver's seat. The van was parked legally on the street for now, but after 0600 it would be in violation - he'd need to get back and pick it up by then. He activated the anti-theft and put the high-end sedan into gear.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:25, Soho, London]
The Elite was a nice ride...for a Jap car. The wife and kids were in the back. Spike always insisted on shotgun, which meant Doc Math was riding bitch. Yeah, he'd protested, but Spike had shown some teeth and that was that.
Al headed up to Oxford Street, following the traffic regs, but just mostly. Rollers'd stop a too-careful driver as quick as they'd stop a reckless one. After a block or so things were calmer - the daughter was awake with a bump on her head and probably a nasty headache. She was sullenly silent, though. It was Missus Math that was sobbing quietly, letting out the stress, while her son did his adolescent best to comfort her.
Whether by their employer or the opposition, obviously they'd been fucked at the meet. This happened on the trid all the time, and so came as no surprise to Al. Confident his companions would be exhausting every possible line of communication with Art and Torrent, with their bullshit antennae dialed up to eleven, he figured he'd try to get some info straight from the horse's mouth.
"Well, reckon I don't know a lot, but I know a little. We was told this was a willing extraction, an' by the way y'all come so easy, I'll take that much fer gospel." He didn't muddy the waters with another suspicion - that he and his people might not be working for whoever the family thought they were willingly going with. Instead, he continued to run down the obvious: "An' I know the place we was supposed ta drop y'all off felt wrong from the git-go an' did indeed turn into an almighty clusterfuck - pardon my French, ladies."
He lit up a filterless Lucky Strike that had appeared out of nowhere, using a big stainless steel Zippo that had done the same. "An' near as I kin gather, now correct me if'n I'm wrong, ya were workin' fer NeoNet. So what I wanna know from you, Perfesser, an' right this damned minute, is exactly who it is ya think yer jumpin' ship to?"
Again, he kept a question to himself: Why were people apparently just as happy for him and his family to be dead as alive?
-
So there was the elite with Al the rather scary dog and the family. The jackrabbit with Tobias and Snow, and Solo had his bike. "So much for a rescue op thought Solo. Thous that need a ride will have to run vampire stile with spirit movement power....about as fast as a scooter, and draws attention but when you have no more wheels you just have no more wheels. He discreetly had one of his flying eyes following the elite. The family deserved a treat it was a very comfortable ride... than again with this kind of extraction they were probobly used to this kind of life style.
Solo called Crash Cart. "We got a man down here... a rich man down. I guarantee to pay the bill if he does not agree to do so. He seemed to had an accident." He gave them the location. There was not enough wheels for an unconscious runner.
-
The Frenchman was about to pull himself up inside the chopper. Hallucination had done a great job at keeping him invisible and undetected by the snipers on the opposite building. Now all he had to do was neutralize the pilot and take control of the Helicopter. He wasn't sure why, but was feeling very confident in his ability to do so. The sound of the rotary blades covered the shots of the battle below. He extended his hand to grab the metallic body of the chopper when everything started to spin.
He cursed and grabbed on tightly to the rope. The rotation took on speed and randomness and the Frenchman's body was flung around. His only chance to survive was to let go, or else he would crash with the helicopter. Lucky for him the diving air vehicle had moved over the building.
He let go and was thrown violently toward the roof of the building. Better than falling to his death on the street below. Upon impact he tried his best to roll to soften the fall and trust on the quality of his titanium bones and orthoskin to take care of the rest.
When his body reached an halt, he braced himself into a ball, knowing the crashing copter no far from him could do some damage.
A few seconds passed. He was still alive and in one piece. He stood up and dusted his suit as he looked at the crash site. Then his emotions prevailed: Putain de merde!!! he yelled. He kicked a piece of debris in anger, upset he was so close to take over the helicopter only to see his efforts denied.
He reached for his commlink and turned it back on. He was going to keep cursing on it when the banter caught up on his feed. Danger was still around. All he had for him now was the vantage point, so he withdrew his gun and approached the edge of the roof.
<<Frenchman here. Would have appreciated a little vote of confidence in taking care of the copter. That said it's down now. Who needs support?>>
[spoiler]
Survive the fall 6m (http://orokos.com/roll/306887): 20d6t5 7[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - At snow's feet]
<<I've got the decker>> he says, working his first bit of Technomancic Magic. blurring the lines of reality, he could easily make the Decker see whatever it was he wanted the Decker to see.. And that he did. It was actually a very subtle illusion he created, simply making all his team mate's icons disappear, and in the same instance, making new ones appear. Now the decker wouldn't be able to see Tobbis's icons, or even begin to interact with them until he could beat the data dog's
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 34th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Every combat round Tobbis spends 10 Initiative points to go into total matrix defense so his willpower is added to all his defense tests.
Matrix Perception vs thier hacker (http://orokos.com/roll/305228): 13d6t5 6 13d6t5: 4 [13d6t5=2, 3, 1, 5, 6, 5, 3, 2, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3
Defense vs Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/305230): 12d6t5 212d6t5: 2 [12d6t5=4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 2, 4, 3]
I wasn't suppose to put rule of six on this, but accidentally did. Luckily it puts whatever explodes into brackets with the first number being the one actually rolled. So its just 11 hits on my brute force defense.
Defense vs Brute Force (http://orokos.com/roll/305229): 21d6h5 12 21d6h5: 12 [21d6h5=[6, 6, 4], 1, 2, [6, 4], [6, 1], 5, 4, [6, 4], 1, [6, 1], 3, 5, 1, [6, 1], 1, 3, [6, 1], 3, [6, 1], 1, 5]
Hopefully he tries to brute force me. Cause this was less than spectacular. However, I would spend edge on this if needed to reroll lost hits.
Defense against Hack on the Fly/Dataspike (http://orokos.com/roll/305233): 19d6t5 319d6t5: 3 [19d6t5=4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 2, 5, 2, 1, 2, 5]
On the next IP Data Sprite to Assist adding +5 dice to my next test for a complex form.
Resonance Veil - New Icon appears - Level 2 - Blow the Limit (http://orokos.com/roll/306897): 20d6h5 11
Ain't no way he's seeing through that probably.
[/spoiler]
-
<<Frenchman from Isaint: Sorry, my timing was a bit off, but I didn't expect the chopper to not activate its autopilot. Be glad you didn't geek the pilot just to realize he's in VR and their are no physical controls.
@Alley team: I've reached the exit. Disengage and try to slink away. It can't be long before the Met gets here. I'll try to keep them occupied with a few long range shots.>>
Isaint had reached his bike and started it with a simple command. He exchanged the magazine for regular ammunition and - while half covered by a brick wall and ready to duck away instantly began to fire shots in the direction of the upstairs snipers.
[spoiler]
I'm assuming the alley is no longer than 50m so, two rounds of walking and one round of sprinting will get Isaint out
He takes cover and full defense, exchanges magazines and fires a few shots at the upstairs windows, so the roof crew can disengage.
#58
[/spoiler]
-
Solo texts: <<The family is secured...time to bamf - before the police comes. you are concealed with magic. >>
It seems that the action is about to be over so there is no reason to go back. Solo drives at a safe distance from Al on his growler. Trying not to make it obvious that he is following them, ready to interfere in the sign of troubles.
He look at Tobias and text >> You are something special... see if you can find out who he is. At least we'll know who wants us dead.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:32, Central London somewhere]
"Well, reckon I don't know a lot, but I know a little. We was told this was a willing extraction, an' by the way y'all come so easy, I'll take that much fer gospel. An' I know the place we was supposed ta drop y'all off felt wrong from the git-go an' did indeed turn into an almighty clusterfuck - pardon my French, ladies.
An' near as I kin gather, now correct me if'n I'm wrong, ya were workin' fer NeoNet. So what I wanna know from you, Perfesser, an' right this damned minute, is exactly who it is ya think yer jumpin' ship to?"
The good doctor looks decidedly flustered, not least due to Spike’s drool landing in his lap, but doesn’t give the impression that he is trying to conceal anything… “NeoNet? No, I don’t work for them. I work for the University, although my project was funded mainly by Mitsuhama with some additional Renraku monies. I thought you were working for Evo, they were the ones that contacted me initially…but if they couldn’t even be bothered to send a corp representative then I’m not so sure… Look, just get my family safe, my career prospects can wait until that is resolved at least! You are going to see us somewhere safe right…?”
***
#20
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:32, Central London somewhere]
"Yeah, doc. Better or worse, you an' yours are with me now. An' you'll git safe or I'll git dead."
He puffed on a cigarette and let a yellow-toothed grin wipe the serious off his face. "An' ol' Al ain't gon' git dead."
Al turned on the stereo, calling up some some soothing lounge fare, and shifted the balance to the rear speakers. It would let him talk to the professor with a modicum of privacy.
"Now ya seem calm enough, so I'm gon' be straight with ya. We was told we was the ones from, well, sounds like it's Evo. But now, well, I wouldn't swear to it. Don't know at this point who we was workin' for, an' far as I'm concerned, we's now workin' fer you. So you gotta work with me, help me figure out how ta keep yer family safe."
He puffed contemplatively on his Lucky as he wove through late night traffic and kept an eye out for the next ambush. "Tell me this, doc. The Evo team, when they came fer ya, how was you gon' know it was really them?"
-
Smiley gathered up the others and left the combat zone on his bike. He was glad he wouldn't have to abandon it since the OpFor seemed to have already bugged out, but the real problem is getting everyone back together and going to ground until they could figure this out.
He had been relaying as much as he could to Torrent about what had gone down, but the fixer seemed more pissed about his reputation than the immediate problems.
"TORRENT! Brother! Focus! We have operatives in the open and at least three of us don't really blend into London street life. Some of our vehicles are fragged and we still have the targets to consider. We need a crashpad, a BIG one, off the grid! NOW!"
-
The idle time the adrenaline that goes down a notch. Solo always wanted a more intimate relation with spirits, but what was this higher bandwidth telepathic link? I think I can do stuff a bit differently he thought as he prepared himself for spirit summon.
[spoiler]
Improve Logic (http://orokos.com/roll/307000): 15d6t5 3
drain logic (http://orokos.com/roll/307002): 10d6t5 2
highten concern used to help with sustain cast logic
Improve willpower (http://orokos.com/roll/307001): 15d6t5 7
drain willpower (http://orokos.com/roll/307003): 13d6t5 5
summon a force 7 spirit of man (http://orokos.com/roll/307004): 15d6t5 7
spirit defense (http://orokos.com/roll/307005): 8d6t5 1
drain summon (http://orokos.com/roll/307006): 17d6t5 6
6 services gained, no drain.
Solo takes -2 that cancel his specialty in spirits of man.
[/spoiler]
Nothing prepared Solo for what was about to happen. He understood that theoretically it is possible to summon spirits in some other... more intimate way he tried to do so. At first he thought he failed as there was nothing in the astral, but the link was there stronger than ever.
"Hello Sweetie! did you miss me?... haven't seen you for like half an hour or so."
Solo jumped... that communication seemed close, he nearly crushed the bike into a parking car.
"You... you are inside my head..." He mumbled embarrassed.
"I hope your girlfriend is not jealous ... because I got way farther with you then your underwear."
"What have I done... thought Solo... this is too much"
Technically... you channeled me... sounds dirty right? Anyhow, I am sharing this body and mind with you... my powers are yours for 6 services... In return I can have some fun with your thoughts and emotions... feeling scared already?
Solo was distracted, she was hugging him? closer than that they became a combined entity. He felt her emotions, desires he got way too graphic visuals of what happened with that mage.
"So... we share body and mind... This is incredible. " The feeling was like standing really close to the most attractive woman he have ever encountered. The spirit was so powerful that Solo was not sure how come he is in charge, but there was something about her... Spirits wanted to get to know him all his life... She was waiting for this moment as well.
It will be a bit ironic to call myself Solo now. Solo thought to himself. He could feel Mellisa giggling. Perhaps Duet? or SaM short for Solo and Melissa. Seems right... I'll introduce us as Sam. He thought understanding that he is simply unable to be alone. Even in the privacy of his own head.
His body felt more alive. He felt stronger, agile and healthy. The feeling was addictive and Solo could already understand that he is going to like it. Not many people could enjoy such an amazing spirit in their mind, but Solo prepared himself his whole life for such a deeper understanding of his magical powers... At least when he was not hacking stuff.
"You do know that I waste half my time in the matrix... M, I may not be such a good partner for this ride"
"Oh... don't be modest S - you are the most interesting person in the world to me... if only I could tell you why."
Solo summoned his first spirit at the age of 10.
"After 50 years of questions you are still not going to tell me why I am interesting ?"
Was it 50 years... time works differently for us... we do not age like you do... but you are an elf - you might be lucky to be old enough to understand one day.
The feeling of not being able to think a private thought was very limiting. Not many people could endure it, but he was also aware of the spirit thoughts. He could not understand them but he could feel her glory inside of him. He will have a lot to explain to Tammie when he return home.
-
As soon as he could be sure, that the opposition had stopped gunning for them, Isaint got on his bike, hid the rifle as well as he could under his lined coat and stuffed the face mask into his pocket, before he restarted all his equipment to lose any MARKs he might have acquired despite all his counter measures. That done, he let the engine roar and took off from this far from safe house.
<<Transport team from Isaint: We have evacuated the premises. As far as I can tell, we had no casualties in our ranks. We should try to get to a safe place to regroup. Has anyone a big enough hiding space?>>
Intentionally, Isaint did not ask nor try to find them at their current location. Instead he tried to vanish into London's hectic traffic to lose any trails he might still have.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:32, Central London somewhere]
The Professor started to answer, but Al held up a hand that looked like melting plastic.
Hearing Isaint's request, he hesitated for just a moment. These all seemed like stand-up people, but he knew from watching countless episodes of Tales of the Red Samurai and Shadowhunt that beneath their professional exteriors at least half of them were predatory pedophiles.
Still, he'd thrown in with them, and now there was nothing for it.
<<Not much fer creature comforts - or any comforts at all fer that matter, but I got a place off the books inna Docklands that'll keep us all dry an' outta sight.>> He flashed the address from behind his Caliban's flash firewall. <<Think of it as a last resort if'n ya can't find nowhere else>> he couldn't resist adding.
"Now, Doc, you was sayin'..."
-
The Frenchman had no intention on staying here any longer than necessary.
Hoping Hallucination had droped her spell on him, he joined with the small team in the building.
Merci Beauté. He told Mel as he grabbed his Coat and put it back on. Let's get the hell out of this mess before the authorities arrive.
He led the three other runner back down and invited them to get in the car.
He cursed internally upon seeing the car damaged, but he knew that was only cosmetic and he would easily be able to get it fixed at any repair shop.
Once everyone was in, he pressed on the gas, and they escaped in the streets of London.
Frenchman to team: where to?
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - At snow's feet]
There we are.. Tobbis thought to himself. Now lets see what you've all been up to, you naughty people. continuing to hide in the shadows of matrix, he began working slowly, but surely to get the information on these people. It was a simple little bit of hacking, one he hoped didn't turn foul on him..
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 36th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Every combat round Tobbis spends 10 Initiative points to go into total matrix defense so his willpower is added to all his defense tests.
Defense vs Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/305230): 12d6t5 212d6t5: 2 [12d6t5=4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 2, 4, 3]
I wasn't suppose to put rule of six on this, but accidentally did. Luckily it puts whatever explodes into brackets with the first number being the one actually rolled. So its just 11 hits on my brute force defense.
Defense vs Brute Force (http://orokos.com/roll/305229): 21d6h5 12 21d6h5: 12 [21d6h5=[6, 6, 4], 1, 2, [6, 4], [6, 1], 5, 4, [6, 4], 1, [6, 1], 3, 5, 1, [6, 1], 1, 3, [6, 1], 3, [6, 1], 1, 5]
Hopefully he tries to brute force me. Cause this was less than spectacular. However, I would spend edge on this if needed to reroll lost hits.
Defense against Hack on the Fly/Dataspike (http://orokos.com/roll/305233): 19d6t5 319d6t5: 3 [19d6t5=4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 2, 5, 2, 1, 2, 5]
Hack on the Fly (http://orokos.com/roll/307185): 13d6t5 3 13d6t5: 3 [13d6t5=3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 1, 1, 1, 5, 4, 5, 2, 6]
I do have a wireless datajack and three levels of flencal fabric.
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday, June 18th, 2076, 〜01:32, Central London somewhere]
Mel always liked confrontations where others did the fighting, or in this case shooting and climbing. The slender elven woman had tried to look around at who was pulling the strings, but hadn't been able to pinpoint anything, which annoyed her somewhat. She prided herself on being able to read situations well, but was unable to find the puppet master this time. Her frustration quickly vanished when she reasoned the encounter had been successful and she had come out of it without a scratch.
"How do ya move, shugah? This thing weighs a ton!" chuckled Mel as she handed Frenchman his coat back before following him down the building.
-
Solo replies Frenchman: >> just hanging around in parts where expensive cars are acceptable... if you and Mel are ready to be seen in public I'll give you a location. We are waiting for some new safe house trying not to look suspicious.
-
Isaint watched the discussion pass by on his feed. It seemed he'd need to gear up before the next confrontation.
<<Team from Isaint: I'll catch up with you in an hour or two at Al's location. Need to replace some ammo and find a bit of hardware to improve operational security.>>
With that he turned right and drove towards Darren Colby's warehouse. The old fence would have exactly what he needed...
[spoiler]#60[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:33, Central London somewhere]
"Tell me this, doc. The Evo team, when they came fer ya, how was you gon' know it was really them?
Now, Doc, you was sayin'..."
The doctor looks confused and distressed… “We hadn’t got that far in the negotiations. The first thing I knew about it all was when the first team barged into my office this evening…err, yesterday evening. I logged into my Career Expander profile around seven and there was a message from the Evo recruiter saying he’d like to discuss things further… I, I don’t know what to do…my family comes first, whatever happens…but if you’re working for me then I’m going to need somewhere to go. I don’t have ready access to cash, only what’s in here…” and he taps the side of his head…
"TORRENT! Brother! Focus! We have operatives in the open and at least three of us don't really blend into London street life. Some of our vehicles are fragged and we still have the targets to consider. We need a crashpad, a BIG one, off the grid! NOW!"
The orc fixer seems somewhat disgruntled at your tone and his acerbic British accent makes that even more clear “I am not your brother! Whilst this mess can’t be entirely laid at your feet I brought you together as a professional crew who should be able to handle these kinds of situations. Are you telling me you can’t? If it weren’t for the fact that Art is incommunicado I’d let you swing. You are damn hot at the moment…causing a chopper crash in central London wasn’t the subtlety I was after! No doubt you took adequate precautions to ensure the authorities can’t trace you quickly but your signatures will be all over the scene and they will, discretely, move heaven and earth to ensure you don’t upset the peace again. Not to mention whatever the corp will do… I can fix you up with something, probably, but I may need to split you up… a group your size is too conspicuous. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you…”
***
#21
-
With some idle time at hand Solo had time to think... police drones he had change his appearance. He stopped at a small shop bought some cosmetics, his target was an old cooperate buddy. He does not look like that now he looked like that many years ago as Solo does not exactly age like humans. He looked at the mirror and was happy with the results. His next stop was a bike shop, he bough a Suzuki Mirage straight from display new wheels and new look.
"How do you like that M?" he thought. "We look very handsome I wonder how fast we can make it go." She said.
When he got back to tailing Al - it wasn't hard to find him because the flying eyes did their job well. He hoped that he won't freak him up... then again it was a good way to test the disguise. Al did not seem like the type to open fire in the middle of a good part of town. At least he hoped he won't.
[spoiler]
Improve intuition spell (http://orokos.com/roll/307552): 15d6t5 11
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/307557): 18d6t5 3
drop willpower/logic stay use highten concern to negate sustaining complexity.
Disguise+facial sculpt (http://orokos.com/roll/307554): 15d6t5 5
Impersonation (http://orokos.com/roll/307555): 6d6t5 3
Total of 8 hits for disguise.
[/spoiler]
-
Smiley chewed his lip as he rolled through the streets, he was not happy, though you couldn't tell to look at him. Even though his thoughts were racing and going over angles, he still had the mask of the party boy firmly in place. He even managed to flirt meaningfully with a pretty ebon-skinned woman in a Dodge Scoot at a traffic light, revving the Harley's engine and cocking an eyebrow her way. The dazzling smile she returned as she prepared to 'race' him almost made him want to blow off the rest of this nonsense.
What he should be doing is covering his own hoop, head for the NAN embassy and hole up there in protective extraterritorial amnesty until he could head back to the Emerald City, but there were two problems with that. One was named Sarah. He wouldn't be able to hide her at the Enclave, not that he wasn't sure she could handle herself, but he wasn't about to bail on her, too many people had done that to her already. The other was named William, he had personally plucked that boy out of his nice safe life, he couldn't walk away until he was sure that things were okay.
Turning away down a side street, he left the Scoot to win unchallenged, trying to be patient and wait for Torrent to give him something. He went over what happened so far, looking for an angle, when he suddenly remembered, THE MAGE! He quickly composed and fired of a text to the Matrix assets on the team.
<<When the cops start looking around the crime scene we just left, they are going to find the wagemage that brought the walking landslide to the party. Any chance you net jockeys can find out about him from the authorities? It might be a long shot, but we might figure out who the bad guys are besides us. ;) 8) ;D >>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:33, Central London somewhere, headed for Docklands]
Al chuckled. "Doc, I said as far as I was concerned, we's workin' fer you. Which means I'm workin' fer you, pay me or not. Rest o' these yahoos, really couldn't say. You'll have ta talk ta them. End o' the day, ya might hafta make some hard choices fer you an' yer family, the safest way may not be yer preferred way. But push comes ta shove, I ain't takin' ya nowhere ya don't wanna go."
Then he buzzed the team network: <<Few pieces o' the puzzle, y'all. Doc was talkin' ta Evo, but they never finished the deal. So we warn't really who he was waitin' for, an' neither was them other folks. Now all that tells me is Art was lyin'. But why he'd lay out that fat advance to have us catch a guy, if he didn't wanna collect 'im...If'n he'd wanted the feller dead, he'd've paid someone fer that, an' shore as hell not bothered with the family snatch. My best guess is Art got taken out, maybe even gave up the meet point, an' you know the rest o' the story. Now ol' Al's headed fer that address I done give y'all. Join me there or find another spot ta lick yer wounds, but stay in touch - this ain't done yet.>>
Then, commlink pickup and lapel mic off, he turned back to the man beside him. "Um, jist ta be clear here, Doc," and here Al tapped the side of his head just as the man had, "you referrin' ta the prodigious powers of yer noodle, or you carryin' somethin' up there of a more digital nature?"
-
Isaint had watched fascinated as his contact modified his precious Fairlight commlink with a module. This module now ran a virtual cyber deck and contained one of the most advanced agent systems money could buy.
Isaint had decided to call it Susi. As support he had given his new assistant four Nixdorf secretaries. Combined with a few sleaze dongles and a special cyber program, Susi now could not only hide his PAN effectively but also make his gear appear to the casual observer as harmless RFID tags. He was also able to delegate searches to her and her cluster of minions. Last but not least was the ability to open doors, jam cameras and do other illegal matrix actions with their combined processing power.
Smiley's request came just at the right moment to test the new system while he kept concentrating on the London traffic:
"Susi: Start teamwork search. Query: Firefight with downed helicopter. Of interest: Affiliation of mage at crime scene."
[spoiler]
Virtual machine is running Browse and Agent 6
The four rating 3 agents make teamwork matrix search check for the agent 6:
Teamwork Agent 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/307578): 6d6t5 3 [6d6t5=4, 5, 5, 5, 2, 1]
Teamwork Agent 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/307579): 6d6t5 2 [6d6t5=2, 6, 1, 3, 6, 1]
Teamwork Agent 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/307580): 6d6t5 2 [6d6t5=2, 2, 5, 4, 3, 6]
Teamwork Agent 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/307581): 6d6t5 2 [6d6t5=3, 2, 2, 6, 3, 5]
Adding +4 to limit and +6 bonus dice (capped at skill level of leader)
Teamwork Leader Agent 6 (http://orokos.com/roll/307584): 18d6t5 6 [18d6t5=4, 4, 2, 5, 3, 1, 5, 4, 2, 6, 3, 1, 6, 4, 2, 5, 5, 3]
Should another time intervall be nessesary:
Agent 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/307586): 6d6t5 3 [6d6t5=1, 3, 5, 6, 5, 3]
Agent 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/307587): 6d6t5 1 [6d6t5=3, 1, 2, 4, 5, 1]
Agent 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/307588): 6d6t5 1 [6d6t5=4, 3, 3, 3, 5, 1]
Agent 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/307590): 6d6t5 3 [6d6t5=2, 6, 5, 4, 5, 2]
Teamwork Leader Agent 6 2nd roll (http://orokos.com/roll/307585): 17d6t5 7 [17d6t5=2, 3, 3, 5, 4, 6, 5, 3, 1, 6, 1, 3, 3, 5, 1, 6, 5]
So, if it's out their the agents should have the answer in at least 12 hours.
[/spoiler]
When Al's message reached him, Isaint replied:
<<Will meet you there. I here the scottish countryside is marvelous this time of year if you want to hide from the law.>>
He sped on while his personal super computer crunched numbers and sieved the matrix for the wanted information
-
News item: In the early hours of this morning a Saeder Krupp registered commuter helicopter came down in Soho after experiencing mechanical failure. The pilot was pronounced dead at the scene but thankfully there were no passengers. There are unconfirmed reports of casualties on the ground but the police have declined to comment while their investigation is ongoing.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - By the bloody stars - Little Car - Current condition 0 Stun damage -In VR- Silent - At snow's feet]
Sifting through the data trails, Tobbis begins working on snooping through the decker's stuff attempting to break into informational files to see just who he was talking to. Meanwhile his cameras keep watch on Snow who'd be driving his car soon after Solo Left.
<<if one of you could keep an eye on me.. I'm snooping their decker. >>
[spoiler]24 posts worth add to sheet - 37th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Every combat round Tobbis spends 10 Initiative points to go into total matrix defense so his willpower is added to all his defense tests.
Snoop (http://orokos.com/roll/307619): 11d6t5 2
Defense vs Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/305230): 12d6t5 212d6t5: 2 [12d6t5=4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 6, 3, 2, 4, 3]
I wasn't suppose to put rule of six on this, but accidentally did. Luckily it puts whatever explodes into brackets with the first number being the one actually rolled. So its just 11 hits on my brute force defense.
Defense vs Brute Force (http://orokos.com/roll/305229): 21d6h5 12 21d6h5: 12 [21d6h5=[6, 6, 4], 1, 2, [6, 4], [6, 1], 5, 4, [6, 4], 1, [6, 1], 3, 5, 1, [6, 1], 1, 3, [6, 1], 3, [6, 1], 1, 5]
Hopefully he tries to brute force me. Cause this was less than spectacular. However, I would spend edge on this if needed to reroll lost hits.
Defense against Hack on the Fly/Dataspike (http://orokos.com/roll/305233): 19d6t5 319d6t5: 3 [19d6t5=4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 2, 5, 2, 1, 2, 5]
[/spoiler]
-
<<When the cops start looking around the crime scene we just left, they are going to find the wagemage that brought the walking landslide to the party. Any chance you net jockeys can find out about him from the authorities? It might be a long shot, but we might figure out who the bad guys are besides us. ;) 8) ;D >>
Solo texts back>> I know a guy at city hall I'll try to discreetly find out who we're up against. He is quite a busy person, I hope he has time for me.
Ben Goodman was one of the long time politicians in London, while never in authority of real power, he was well connected and knew whom to ask. He was a consul member, one of many but still that position had its perks. Solo was working for him once. He helped Ben get that consul seat he was drooling all over. It was a few years ago. He did that by uncovering some dirt on his competitors. He was called Magic at the time. He texted Ben's secret comlink, the one he did the 'dirty job' with. The call sign was Batman.
>> Batman - This is /\/\491( ... I see in the news that there was this helicopter crush over Soho. I need a favor, can you discreetly snoop around this accident. Something smells bed, I need to know who is really involved - annd what happened. Can you check what the police knows. Not that crap for the news... as usual do a generous D and you can collect a favor next time you need someone of my caliber.
(D donation ).
Solo figured that having the consul member check what the police knows will tell them just how badly they are screwed. He sort of felt sorry as to buying the bike but he was an implosive one. He just wasn't sure how much more work Solo is able to do after this gig, he may have to go back to the days of Magic, or poetry and nonsense. These guys were the greatest he mentally laughed with M.
<<Right back with you Tobias... I am browsing the matrix next to you trying to mark their decker if anything goes south I'll do what I can to hep.>>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:33, eastbound on North Woolwich Road, Docklands]
Al also answered Smiley and Solo's messages: <<Groovy, Solo baby. Ol' Al might know a feller, too. I'll shoot 'im a text.>>
The drive through Canary Wharf had been smooth enough, and now things were getting seedier by the second as he sped along a dual carriageway into the heart of the Docklands, the only other traffic at this hour big cargo haulers.
He voiced a text as he passed a Kawasaki-Kisen tractor trailer: <<Grant, that chopper crash in Soho. That really SK? Someone else? Had some investors lookin' at that area, gittin' nervous...any info be much appreciated.>>
-
<<When the cops start looking around the crime scene we just left, they are going to find the wagemage that brought the walking landslide to the party. Any chance you net jockeys can find out about him from the authorities? It might be a long shot, but we might figure out who the bad guys are besides us. ;) 8) ;D >>
Mel was reading the latest news flash when she got Smiley's message. <Let me see what I can dig up for you honey> was her answer. She then quickly sent a message to Bonnie Singh, the detective she knew over at Scotland Yard.
<Bonnie, it's your favourite elf. Something happened in Soho not too long ago and I need to know who was there, more specifically a certain wagemage. As usual, we can discuss terms over dinner, my treat. -Love, M>
[spoiler]Bonnie Singh is a detective working at Scotland Yard. C/L stands at 5/4[/spoiler]
-
Saeder-Krupp? Well, seems like I really went against a dragon. Isaint waited for his agent to spill any more in dept info, especially things people had posted on their social media sites or what those underground bloggers had dug up.
In a matrix dead zone he exchanged SINs and had his bike change numberplate and signature before he headed back into the city towards the meeting point. His coat now was a simple brown-grey and was reminiscent of a macintosh raincoat.
-
While a good portion seem to have decided to lay low and disappear for a couple hours, the Frenchman decided to bring himself and his small crew to the new rendez-vous point, at Al's safehouse by the docks. He was't sure what they were going to find there, but at least enough fancy cars were going there on the occasion to have their engines abused by some hothead that his Shin Hyung would not catch too much attention.
He trusted enough of his teammates would try to find out about the behind the scene of the attack that he could concentrate on keeping an eye on the family and the safehouse itself.
He nod at the short Al and follow his instruction as to were to go and park. It was his place, he knew better than anyone else the layout.
The Frenchman took a few deep breath to register the various scents present in and around the safehouse. It would allow him to detect more easily any new scent approaching.
He said hi to Rachel but approached Al for more chichat.
So, it seems we have a family of four on our hands and some well equipped people willing to geek us all to get their hands on it. How many people can this bolthole sustain?
-
The albino orc follower the directions to the safehouse, as he pulls up and gets you he's looking twitchy and nervous, events of the night starting to catch up on him.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:53, Docklands]
Driving along the north bank of the Thames, Al took the left turn at the off-license, then a quick right onto his street. It was all light industrial, and ran along an artificial inlet off the river. The buildings on the landward side were warehouses, machine shops, various fix-it joints, many with residences on the upper floors. About half were abandoned, which meant squatted, with the other half still in active use.
The side of the street on the water side had much the same make-up, except that with access to the river most of the businesses were oriented toward maritime needs - boat repair and outfitting, mostly. Probably some smuggling - he'd never asked.
His own building was on the water side. By the time he got there Snow was behind him, and he recognized the Frenchman's Korean job already across the street. The street facing had one walk-in door, and four roll-up doors for vehicle access - he used his comm to open three and led the way in with his new Toyota Elite. Once the other two cars were in, he rolled the doors back down behind them.
Inside was a large auto mechanic shop, though there had been no physical or AR signage outside to hint that it was open. There were four service bays complete with hydraulic lifts, digital diagnostic stations on casters, and tools more or less scattered everywhere. Deeper in, there was an indoor dock with a speedboat tied up, secured on the water side by another heavy roll-up door. A crane straddled the interior waterway.
Up the left-hand wall ran a flight of metal grill steps to a landing with two doors leading off of it.
As shadowrunners and shadowrunnees wearily climbed out of the three cars, Al lit a fresh cigarette and spoke with the Frenchman. "Sustain? Hell, what I got in here wouldn't sustain a family o' river rats. Mostly a take-out man, muhself," he said, glancing meaningfully at a metal bin overflowing with styrofoam containers. "But the delivery boys obviously know how ta git here, an' I always pay cash. Or we kin make run down ta the off-license - they got a real fine range o' soyrittos. Onna plus side, as ya kin see, we got no shortage o' space." He motioned with his cigarette at the doors on the landing. "One onna left's mine, other one's empty, got an en suite, I kin toss out a mattress, family kin stay in there. Seats in that there Elite, hell, I reckon I'd git a better night's sleep on them than on my own damned bed." He shrugged. "Ain't the Ritz, but no one'll freeze, an' safe as anywhere fer now."
-
The Frenchman looked around the space, taking mental notes of the entrances and possible ways in and out, including roof access.
Quite a place you got there. Ain't much to look at but the mechanic shop is pretty impressive. Now I know where to bring my car for fixing - which my be sooner than later considering how things are going. Do you do the repairs yourself?
It's not my specialty, but do you have any sort of matrix hook up? Cameras or sensors of sort?
He looked at the dog and a soft grin appeared on his face. Or maybe you rely on just a good snout?
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:54, Docklands]
"Cameras? Yeah, I thought about puttin' somethin' like that up, maybe some better locks onna doors. Jist never sounded more innerestin' than watchin' the trid. But then I ain't been doin' a lot o' this sorta work inna six months since I got back here to the Smoke. Keep well 'nuff to yerself, then, yeah, a good snout'll do jist fine." And he scratched Spike behind the ears.
"You wanna beef up security ta meet the needs o' the day, well, mi casa su casa."
Then, remembering how he was raised, he bounded up the stairs to throw some semblance of bedding and maybe a chair or two into the spare room.
-
Hallucination had been quiet during the ride to the safe house. Now that they were there she turned to the empty space next to here where the spirit she had summoned was. Can you watch over this house tongiht and let me know if anybody approaches it? she asked it. After getting an affirmative she got out of the car and walked over to where Al and the Frenchman were. "I have my spirit watching over the house. It ought to help with beefing up the security." she told the two of them.
-
>> This is Solo - my 3 flying eyes are circling the house. Will give us some heads up if anything approaches.
With his new racing bike right from display he drove happily to the safe house. "Nice view he said... is there anything to drink tough?"
-
"He said he's a takeout man, so you may be out of luck Solo." Hallucination said dryly "Besides, considering how desperate that other group was to get the family, getting inebriated may not be the smartest move. Unless you like fighting drunk."
-
"Common Hallucination... we were ambushed by an elite cooperate force, geeked a mage and crushed a copper over Soho... I lost my expensive toys after less then a second of action but we all made it out in one piece. I think we are entitled to at least a beer. Come wizard, lets drink and do stuff we'll regret tomorrow. " They smiled at her.
Solo looked distance for a moent, he was still struggling to contain M.
"Stuff we'll regret tomorrow ? really M you are something special... "
"Why isn't she hot?" Said M.
"I am in a relationship... remember Tammie."
"You just moved to It's complicated when you *channeled* me"
" I am sorry I *channeled* you... I thought I make the calls..."
"You do... you do but I get to sneak a sentence here and there... don't like it I can go back to the metaplanes... mr I don't want to fool around wizard"
"I don't ever want to be alone M, please stay."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:55, Docklands]
A spirit watching his house! He'd have to deal with that later.
Al grabbed his mattress off the floor, glanced at the sweat-stained sheets and then considered the mildew on the underside. Solved the problem by tearing the sheet off, then hauled it into the spare room and flopped it down. Went back and grabbed the mound of blankets Spike slept on, and amid mournful whines piled them in a corner of his new guests' quarters. Two seconds later and he'd swept his cards off the beer table and dragged it and two floor cushions in to complete the furnishings. All that was left in his room were some piles of dirty clothes, his trid, and ashtrays. But what else, really, did he need.
He stepped quickly into the en suite and ran the water in the tap and shower for a moment to get the brown out, then growled down in his most cordial sandpaper bark: "Math Family Robinson, yer treehouse awaits."
Hostly duties fulfilled, he trotted down and caught the end of the newly arrived Solo's conversation with Hallucination. Women. "Now li'l darlin'," he began a he hauled on a chain that hung from the dock rail into the chill black water, "there's a whole wide world o' difference between inebriated an' pleasantly drunk." He reached the end of the chain and a cooler broke the water's surface. Dragging up onto the concrete floor, he popped the lid to reveal a full stock of cheap beer.
"Fridge done broke, ain't had time ta fix 'er."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:56, Central London somewhere]
"Um, jist ta be clear here, Doc, you referrin' ta the prodigious powers of yer noodle, or you carryin' somethin' up there of a more digital nature?"
“Er, no, I hold the digital keys to my research in here. Not the data itself of course, but the access codes…”
From Tobbis’ vantage in the matrix the comms chatter between the surviving opposition team members represents a wealth of information, although none that would particularly compromise their employer. As soon as the chopper began its precipitous descent it was clear that they had no stomach left for this fight. The reasons bandied back and forth are more to do with deniability than actual concern for dealing with the police and reinforce the suspicion that they are corporate backed, and a big one at that.
As the foe ghost away from the still flaming debris scattered in the street Tobbis traces them until…
<<This is hosed, go to Protocol 4, rendezvous in ten>> and with that all of the icons that were being tracked disappear from the local grid, from any grid, as they go dark to lose any unwanted marks that may be on their gear and prevent the inbound authorities from linking them to the scene…
***
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
As the team reach out to their various contacts they settle in, those that have arrived, to the dubious comfort of Al’s garage. The place smells of oil and other more noxious odours drifting off the Thames water, but it’s dry and nobody seems to have planted bombs in the ceiling!
<<Grant, that chopper crash in Soho. That really SK? Someone else? Had some investors lookin' at that area, gittin' nervous...any info be much appreciated.>>
The reply is quicker than expected, it would seem there are others with sleeping habits similar to those of the runners
<<Mr Guthrie, good to hear from you! Investors you say? Well I’d advise them to stay away from the area for now, it has got the force in a right flap. SK advised us it was their chopper and I can think of no reason for them to cover for anyone else. Of course nobody is talking about the firefight that went down just beforehand, someone upstairs has squashed the investigation and that takes clout!>>
<<Bonnie, it's your favourite elf. Something happened in Soho not too long ago and I need to know who was there, more specifically a certain wagemage. As usual, we can discuss terms over dinner, my treat. -Love, M>>
There is a distinct yawn in the recorded message…
<<Mel? I trust you weren’t involved in that chaos? It’s going to be bad news, someone is stepping on the investigation and needless to say that implies a scary level of power. Although there are unconfirmed reports of magical ability in the area I haven’t got access to the aborted investigation. This one has black bag written all over it! Stay safe and I look forward to our next dinner!>>
***
Sometime later…
>> Batman - This is /\/\491( ... I see in the news that there was this helicopter crush over Soho. I need a favor, can you discreetly snoop around this accident. Something smells bed, I need to know who is really involved - and what happened. Can you check what the police knows. Not that crap for the news... as usual do a generous D and you can collect a favor next time you need someone of my caliber.
<<Bad? This shit stinks! I don’t care what the news is saying, the Met are saying even less. SK were on the scene, they’ve publicly admitted as much, but this goes beyond corp politics, things may be different across the pond but here it takes more than a corp SIN to quash an investigation into corp malpractice. This has blueblood influence if you ask me, somebody important in the establishment has an interest in this. I can dig but that risks flagging attention in the wrong places. This is going to be one big favour! I’ll get back to you…>>
"Susi: Start teamwork search. Query: Firefight with downed helicopter. Of interest: Affiliation of mage at crime scene."
***
Now the team must decide their next step. The doctor tentatively offers access to his Career Expander profile… the place where all this began it would seem…
***
#23
-
Isaint was late, later than everyone else to the safe house. Once there he took a look around and vanished again. He returned shortly with a few packages and approached his gathered team mates:
"Got you some survival packages. Nothing fancy, just some basics for hygene, blankets and enough nutri bars to last a while."
He patted the Frenchman on the shoulder: "Sorry again about that whole falling out of a helicopter. Next time, I'll try to time it better."
He didn't participate in the dialog with the doctor but listened intently while he took his rifle and gun apart, cleaned and oiled where appropriate and put it all together again. He also deactivated all his devices beside the agent cluster and hooked them up to the power grid to top off the batteries.
He finished his work and approached Al: "Nice place you've got here. But we should probably prepare the car for an immediate exit. It's only a matter of time before they find the doctor. If not by matrix then by magic - someones probably already set up a ritual circle somewhere or sent out some spirits to look for him. That also means we need to prepare another getaway car. Do you know someone around here who could set us up with such a vehicle?"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
Snow Crash wanders around the safe house semi-aimlessly, the albino orc looking agitated and frequently casting glances at the doors while muttering softly to himself in Or'Zet. He looks startled when Al tosses him one of the beers, but recovers and catches it cleanly before easily cracking the can open with a tusk.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
Al nodded thoughtfully in response to Isaint's query. "Well, that there Elite's a nice ride, an' ain't yet been used in anything hot. But since I'm currently runnin' onna worst case assumption that Art got compromised, an' since it were him arranged that car...what're ya thinkin'? Somethin' spacious an' nondescript like my shot-up Bulldog? Lemme make a call."
Sipping his beer without removing his cigarette from the corner of his mouth, he texted Chastity. Cars weren't really her thing, but she had fingers in a lot of pots. If she didn't hate him today, he was sure she could find them a clean van.
Then he went upstairs, handed his tag eraser to the son and told him to get to work on the whole family, showing him the AR instructions that came with the off-the-shelf model. And, just to be safe, he reminded him not to get it too close to his father's head.
Returning downstairs, he sat on the hood of the Toyota and asked, "So, anyone had a close look at this here Career Whatsis of the Doc's? Maybe give us a clue why SK an' some local chinless wonders or other is so innerested our guests?"
-
To Sarah: "Sorry about that... I have learned some new mojo trick and I am still struggling with it... you off course do not have to drink, I definitely need one after what we've been through... I usually do not shoot people."
Solo grabs a beer and begin drinking. To Isaint "I assume that whom ever is after us, know exactly where we are. These guys are professionals... I mean real professionals, what they lacked in personal talent they made up in discipline... runners are not disciplined, we are a large group of freedom loving criminals...
if one of the devices we own was hacked they know where we are. No need for occult. We lack the discipline to truly disappear as such a large group. However... just a guess if they already lost so much money in a well executed ambush, killing none of us and causing mayham in the middle of Soho. It may be cheaper to just pay us for the brilliant doctor - obviously we are hot and want make a sale and they probobly only care about their bottom line. Besides - if we do not make a sale soon we'll end up in jail... I am too good looking for a small cell - I think we should sell and each go hide in his own hole. "
To Al - "That career website is what caused this mess int he first place... not that I am complaining... got to make a living ya'know if it wasn't messy Torrent wouldn't have called. Still we may want to organize an auction.
If we do not hear from Art we are free to make up our mind about what to do. We should sell to the highest bidder. We can let the family decide and offer some flexibility, as long as our interests are not totally conflicting. His next employer should make economic sense for us. We got out of the ambush alright but these toys were freaking expensive... still they did their job as the bullets that took them down could have target any one of us."
He also texts his contact:
>> Batman --> /\/\491( Thanks for the tip. I'll get back to you about that suggestion. I am good on favors don't worry - but i am not sure we are there yet.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
"Auction, ya say? Could be one way ta shake the brush. Problem is, way that ambush went down, I ain't rightly sure those SK boys was innerested in gittin' the good doc much as they were in killin' 'im." Al turned and spat on the floor. Saeder-Krupp had killed his dogs and taken his sister's arm. "But from what our people is tellin' us, seems they play was backed by some local muckety-muck, old school connections an' so forth. How 'bout that swanky party y'all went to? What sorta folks ya run into there?"
-
Solo answers
"There were some very heavy NeoNet suits in there... "
He take another sip from the beer replaying the events of the night - back before all the gunfire when he thought it would go smoothly.
the hostess was a magical decker, sort of like me only a lot more powerful... The kind of power only Mega's have. She is a drake if it means anything to you. We were lucky to take Rachel out without conflict. I think we stole her from right under their nose. NeoNet probobly considered the wife 'extracted' already - and waited for an approval for the husband.
Mellisa helped a lot... she... um... *neutralized* their mage so he cannot assense me. I heard you were less sneaky with the doc, perhaps there are more than two mega's involved.
The people that ambushed us are SKers - god knows who hired us.
SK and NeoNet is clearly in the mix. I agree that we should not sell the doc to SK tough... but if Art disappears... how about NeoNet? I think they wanted a live extraction. We can give their magical decker a call... "
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
Al's eyebrows rose at the mention of magical hackers and dragons. "Hoo-wee! That do sound like a shitstorm of a shindig. Yeah, commcodes're always good. Whaddaya say we hold off on any calls fer jist a bit, though, till we git a fuller picture. Evo angle's still worth checkin' out, since they was innerested from the git go. An' reckon once we come up with a tentative plan fer who ta talk to, we run it by the Doc. Did I mention it ain't jist him we got, but that he's got the access codes fer all his work locked in his noggin?"
As he spoke, Al was punching out a thank-you text to Grant: <<Much obliged, amigo. Hell, we hadn't even heard about a firefight. But they would have eventually, so this helps me get out ahead of it. Drinks on me next week.>>
Then, after checking for a response from Chastity, he glued his eyes to his Caliban's screen and started trying to make heads or tales of the good doctor's Career Expander account.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 0 Stun damage -
Tobbis finally woke up, rebooting his living persona and stretched coming out of his car as they finally got in. Removing his mask he sets it aside before looking around to the others. "Well that was all kinds of dreked up there. The bastards are crafty too, they've all gone dark the moment we escaped. And well, if it helps at all, I only need a few hours of rest a night, less than most. But I'll be completely out of it while I'm asleep. However, I've got some scripts I'll need to go over again to make sure are going to work for us in the future. "
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 38th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
[/spoiler]
-
Solo is speaking about this stuff calmly, when it is his time to go he will go. He knows that he is a monster, at least was in the past. He'll just carry on running until he is either reach enough to retire or he dies. However, with his impulsive behaviour... he just expect dying some run in the (hopefully) far off future. Every gig is pushing the limit just a little bit until sometime the opposition will be the more skilled one.
"Well we can hold for a short while but with so many powerful people after this guy and so many of us - we cannot really hide. Y'know - got to cash our chips while we are ahead. We will be discovered again eventually. About the codes - I'd expect no less of the doc, Rachel is a lucky women. He is not the kind to be unwillingly extracted he wants to be a millionaire and he will be... or die trying too.
I mean I don't know about the rest, but my services are too expensive for most runs. Art was willing to pay us a few millions just for the extraction job - whomever he represents seriously think the possible rewards justify this kind of wages."
He looks at Tobias and wishes him goodnight.
To Tobias: "Wifi dark you say? that's good news... they cannot follow us wifi dark. They need communication and stuff like that. Perhaps they decided to cut their losses atleast before their suits decide on the next step"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
As Solo spoke, Al got a ping from Chastity. She had what he needed. He asked for it to be brought to them. He trusted her.
"Well, I hear what yer sayin' about wantin' ta make a buck. Hell, man's gotta work fer a livin', or he ain't no man at all. An' I hear what yer sayin' about the clock tickin'. Tell ya what, I jist find out we gon' git a sterile set of wheels - somethin' we can put the whole clan in, as of oh-seven-hunnerd today. So let's give ourselves till then to suss out the closest thing we can to a win-win fer us an' the family, and start reachin' out to buyers then."
He puffed on his cigarette. "Heaven knows ol' Al's as eager as anyone ta be rid o' this business, what with super-lizard in Germany an' some sort o' hacker drake...right...here...sheeee-it kemo sabe...That's Twinkle Fairy Dragon! Look baby, this the number you have fer yer magical hacker lady? Maybe also goes by the name o' eTher?"
-
Solo answers:
"Yes she does... friend of yours?" Al has some very extensive connections apparently. Solo planned to get his hands on her assistant comcode - and say something that exposes that he knows who The lady really is... it will get her to call him... but if Al had her comcode already he can keep his deck offline and maybe even open a second beer.
A bit later he sits with the doctor... Name is Solo, "mind if I take a look at your career site? I know a thing or two about the matrix I may be able to give you some extra info as to who you are really talking to."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
"Friend might be stretchin' things, but we's had our associations. An' yeah, she did say she was pretty high up in NeoNet. Though not so high she didn't have to play some seriously cutthroat internal politics."
Now, knowing eTher was involved, he wondered if any part of Dr. Dick's work involved the Sybill virus. There were few things Al wanted more in this world, besides sim stardom, of course, than to wipe that soul-sucking scourge out. Without a word he headed upstairs.
He opened the door without knocking. "Say Doc, what sorta math you do?"
-
" Al... every time there is more than a single person in the room there are politics... for mages... there are politics even if there is a single person... Mundane talking to himself - insane - mage talking to himself... he got a mentor spirit. Go figure... " Solo laughed as he followed Al to the Doc.
-
Isaint chimed in from the sidelines: "I'm neither in the habit of abandoning a run nor of people whose well-being I've taken responsibility for. I won't start now and I don't particular care if I have to step on some toes.
But I'm all for opening negotiations. Maybe we can trade the data without selling out the family.
And when all's said and done I want to have a conversation with Art."
He finally stashed his weapons and followed the two unasked upstairs.
-
He patted the Frenchman on the shoulder: "Sorry again about that whole falling out of a helicopter. Next time, I'll try to time it better."
The Frenchman wasn't too sure how to approach ISaint anymore, but his apology seemed sincere enough. The man may have tried to kill him, maybe on several occasions after today, but he knew more about his past than anyone he had ever met since waking up in that clinic in London.
No harm done. Can't blame you, I was invisible and radio silent. It was a great shot too. Before you try to geek me again, let's make sure we'll share a heavy drink and our 'mutual story'. He added jokingly.
The conversation was interesting. Evo, SK, Neo Net, Drake, Magic hacker. They definitely had hit the jackpot in getting into deep drek.
I ain't too keen on selling anyone either. We've took on the responsibility to take the Doc and his family alive; until we're sure about what's going with Art, it's still our job to keep it that way.
Al's right, seems to me SK's approach was more to kill the Doc than take him back from us. There were shaped charges in the safehouse itself! Someone wants the doc alive for his skills, someone else wants what's in his head, and someone else wants that no one have access to neither.
The Frenchman pondered for a second... I have a powerful datalock. Why don't we transfer what's in the Doc's head into mine? fully protected, Hacker free, and it could take someone off the Doc's back.
-
Anxiety was high in the building, but the Frenchman boosted olfactory sensors picked something higher than expected....
The Albino Ork looked really agitated.
Snow Crash... Are you ok, l'ami?
-
M... I think I'm like the only bad person in there... this is why I work alone. This art person is either evil or incompotent...
You are right... he's probobly terrible in bed too.
Aw... Thanks for the image.
You are welcome!
Solo added:
"Look guys... Art is either a bad apple or an incompetent idiot. With what he is paying us he could at least hire some goons to make sure that the "safe house" is really safe.
He is bad news for the corp that hires him, he treat their money like it is others people money.
I don't do for jerks... not since that awful night in Dusseldorf. I'll finish this gig I am a professional - but seriously I want nothing from this Art guy. He is deleted in my book - you do not get to hire me if you cannot do your freaking role. If I was his cooperate boss I'd fire his lousy ass already. Throw him to the streets, see how he like being SINless... " Solo laugh a dark laugh. "Oh the memories... priceless!" Thought Solo.
"But you know... when life give you soy... you make soykaf. Taste bad, but at least you can open your eyes in the morning. We got to flow with what we have... We have a Doctor that is looking for a new career path. Common Doc - do you really want to work for that Art guy? he is bad news... you do not want to work for a guy who can't keep you safe. That's bad for career planning - you want to work for some powerful corp - with competent managers. Lets find you some nice employers and collect our mediator fee, how about it? "
To himself - "M once this is over, I am going to dig out so much dirt on Art he is going to eat right out of my hand. People like him are easy to blackmail. You will see my lusting friend... there is more than one way to fuck with a person."
Do you really think you can teach me? I am way smarter than you... and older!
-
Smiley was extremely adverse using ANYONE's personal bolthole as a base of operations, it was too much exposure for the runner involved and, especially if the invitation was made, screamed set-up to his paranoid professional mind. That said, once it was clear that there was nothing forthcoming from Torrent soon, and most of the rest of the group had gathered there, he knew he needed to follow suit.
Smiley approached the building as cautiously as he was able to, scanning the area and doing what tricks he knew to lose any tail he might have picked up. Inside the safe house he made a point to check in with everyone personally, getting any results they had on the mage, though it seemed like a dead end now. For now he played the quiet heavy, letting the others do legwork while he concentrated on physical security and making the family safe and comfortable as possible.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
The combat decker takes a swig of the bear and grimaces, although it's unsure if it's from the beer or the question.
"Ever have one of those jobs where you feel like you're standing over a rabbit hole? A Johnson you can't pin down, an end game you can't see? Yeah well I went and jumped headfirst down that rabbit hole didn't it?" he pauses to tap the side of his head "I come out the other side with an Ivy League certification, upgraded neural-ware and here's the kicker.... a comcode I've never learned but can't forget."
The albino orc pauses, taking a long swig of his beer and eyes the door nervously. "Worst part is, still don't know who the frag they are... but something tells me that dreck that went down in Soho is bad news. Me, my car and my avatar where all seen there... so I don't doubt they know I was involved in that by now."
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 0 Stun damage -
"Well, here's what I do know.. the enemy team is incompetent. They rigged the place up to blow.. and all they had to do was wait until we got everyone inside to blow it. They've got weapons, and gear and the like, but I 've got a feeling that personal skill is found wanting. With the kind of firepower they were packing... things should have gone a lot differently. If it had been me setting up an ambush, the first thing I'd have done was wait for us to think we did it, and begin to lax up a bit. Then gassed us, shortly before exploding the place.
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 39th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
[/spoiler]
-
"I wouldn't call them incompetent I think that one of the drones sort of blew their surprise so they opened fire eliminating them and improvised since. They were not far from totally destroying Al's car and making escape almost impossible without a massacre. We had some luck with things we could not necessarily duplicate... for example lifting a car with magic is not something I can reliably do. I am not sure Smile could reliably take down their rigger - we got a lucky streak - but lady luck is fickle. Art is incompetent for not hiring people to secure his safe house especially in such a high paying job, and their demolition guy is seriously crappy."
Solo approaches Snow and give him a nod. "I know what you feel like... this is why I prefer working alone. The fish we swim with are too big for comfort... sometimes you only get to do one mistake. Answering torrents call was definitely a mistake. " He laugh. "So what are you going to do about it now tough?"
Solo's drones pick up someone approaching "Sorry about that Snow! Guys we have company! Some Black car with dark windows... looks expensive. I don't assume this is a pizza delivery."
He grabs his AK-97 and approach the window... thinking "This is going to be a long night". A quick glance in the matrix tells him they are wifi dark.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
A lone human in a well tailored, but otherwise bland suit get out of the car and approaches the safehouse. There's no obvious sign that he's armed and he strides confidently to the door. There's a faint whirring of an autopicker before the door opens, the human stepping inside quickly before closing and locking the door again. If he's the least bit concerned that he's just locked himself in a building full of armed shadowrunners, he doesn't show one iota of it.
Snow Crash grimaces, but makes no move for his weapons, giving the others a stand-down signal. "Dreck, I was hoping I'd never lay eyes on your mug again... but I can't say I'm surprised."
The human gives a faint smile. "Hardly the way to talk to those who've done so much for you Snow Crash, but it's a better greeting then last time so I see your education did not go to waste. As for my being here, you and your companions raised a lot of trouble in Soho, you've drawn a lot of trouble and disrupted some plans. As such I'm afraid we've had to accelerate our own schedual and are in need of your services. I'm sure you've worked out that your implants where not for free." For the first time he looks at the other runners "Your companion will not be harmed, by us anyway. Also I'm am well aware we are removing one of your number in the middle of a run, we have given the Fixer Torrent the details of an individual in London we are aware of, no doubt he will be joining you shortly. Now, if there is no other issues, we have an extremely tight schedule to keep...
-
"Yes, Art is incompetent for not checking the safehouses, but I'm still going to see him one time, and that's to get my money no matter how I have to convince him. Besides we're sort of stuck in this now." When Solo mentioned the incoming van she cursed and started preparing the chants to begin casting spell as she crouched by the same window as him. "Never a dull moment. What's next, Toxic or Bugs?"
-
No other issues? interrupted the Frenchman, out loud in a sarcastic tone, moving so slightly away from his cover behind the Limo.
How about a "Hi, my name is John. Sorry to disturb but may I have a talk with M. Crash right here". You know, manners over bully talk.
The guy's body language was telling he could probably whoop the Frenchman's arse in no time. But he couldn't let that small detail take over the fact that one simply couldn't remove a skilled teammate in a middle crisis with a promise of bringing some new guy in instead, without a least some good explanation.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
The human turns to face Frenchman, if he's in any way insulted or ruffled by the interruption he doesn't show it. "It's quite simple, I've not told you my name because you do not need to know it. As for removing our albino acquaintance here I do concede that it is poor timing on our part. However, recent events have forced our hand and it can not be helped. We hold your crew no ill will, indeed your actions may have provided us with an opportunity we require. We could simply have extracted Snow Crash, but, in the event that you continue to act in the manor you have thus far, it was felt that replacing him with another talented individual may yield a positive influence on our own plans. This is why you are talking to me, not facing our extraction team who are... otherwise occupied right now."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
Even as Doctor Pelletierre opened his mouth to answer, Al heard the activity downstairs, along with a deep-throated warning growl from Spike at his side.
Holding up a scarred finger, he said, "Hold that thought, Doc..." and stepped out onto the landing.
Leaning against the railing, he watched the events below unfold. He didn't like them much, but didn't see much point in stirring the hornet's nest further.
For now he was content to watch and see how it shook out.
-
Isaint nodded at the Frenchman's reply: "Sure thing. Talk is almost always preferable to bullets. A bear just makes it smoother"
When the intruder appeared, Isaint decided - for once - to keep his mouth shut. He really, really didn't like with witch ease that guy had found their hideout. That just confirmed to him that they had to move out of here sooner than later.
But he also understood about obligations - and Snow Crash's seemed to have caught up to him.
Quickly he sent the albino a private message:
<<Hate to see you go. If you need help getting out, give me a call>>
#65
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
The albino orc grumbles but starts moving towards Isaint's car to retrieve his kit "Should have known this would come back to bite me in the ass, just hoped the bite would come much, much later."
The human smiles slightly, the first hint of expression you've seen from him. "Indeed, as had we. But events here and elsewhere mean we must act now, and more obviously than we would prefer." he pauses a moment to nod to the rest of the team "But in the end, we must make do with the situation we are presented with. Shadowrunners, I shall take my leave, and although you may not believe it I do wish you luck. Snow Crash's replacement should be with you presently... from what I have been told, he won't be hard to miss."
The albino orc nods slightly to Isaint, a quick message flicking back just before he goes wifi dark for the first time since you met him. <<Cheers omae, seems I'm about to go for a tour in the deep shadows. When i see daylight again we'll catch up about how our respective dreck went down... barring identifying information naturally>> With that the two leave the safehouse, the blacked out car driving away smoothly.
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:20, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]
Man, who the frag calls someone out of the blue at 2AM in the morning and dumps enough cash in their lap to join in on a run already underway?
Nitro shakes his head as he turns into the side street along the river. Still, not the only weird dreck to go on this morning, the frag was up with that chopper crash, all over the Matrix one minute then narry a whisper about it the next... waaaitamiute he breaks into a grin, rightly or wrongly putting two and two together as he pulls up to the safehouse, quickly punching in the comcode he was given.
Nitro to Al "Allo there chummer, name's Nitro, I hear tell you lot are in need of a driver. Ya mind opening up afore some damned yokel gets too curious about what a sweet set of wheels like this is doin' out at this dive at this pissant hour in the mornin?"
Once a garage doors opens he rolls the BMW 400GT into one of the bays. The sports sedan looking well maintained and looked after, clearly more than just a way to get from A to B. There's no sound as the high-performance electric moters power down, the door opening to let the driver of the car out. Several things immediately stand out about this young human as he glides out of the car. First he moves with a preternatural smoothness usually associated with those who've undergone cybernetic enhancement, his eyes and ears are both obvious cybernetic replacements, the later for a moment looking like they'd been done in an elvish style until you get a better look and see they've simply been styled that way to create a solid anchor for the antenna rising from the top of each. His feet his the ground with a solid thud of metal on concrete, again obvious cybernetic jobs, but there's no telltales of his legs being replaced. He's wearing expensive high fashion armor, the latest model of Vashon Island's Sleeping Tiger range, while some runners like the chromatically adjustable armor for it's stealth abilities, it's obvious he isn't one of them, the glowing neon patterns are a perfect match to his hair which has been replaced with about 40cm of glowing fibre-optics.
Nito takes a moment to look around, noticing everyone else is on edge. "Well now aint this a fan-fucking-tastic hour of the mornin' to be getting antiquated, eh? I get a call about 20 minutes ago from some joker by the name of Torrent, never worked with the guy mesself but word on the grapevine is he's on the solid, says he's sorry to be waking me up at this hour but he's got a class A double prime rush emergency job for me. Says he's got a run going down with a crew in urgent need of a wheelman and that he'd been given my number. Now affore I can be asking who gave him my number he shows me a set of numbers that wakes me up faster than a speedball of Jazz and Java." The rush of words finally stops for a moment as the glowing haired technophile grins and draws a breath "So a quick piss, a change into me gear and a short drive later here I am. Call me Nitro, ya need to get from A-B quicker than a scalded cat? I'm your guy. If not I ken at least offer some fire support at close range, or if ye don't mind wakin' up half the neighberhood can call in some air support that'll get most anyone duckin' fer cover. Ohh and would I be right in gessin that you chummers have a little somthin-somthin ta do with that whirly bird goin down in Soho that nobody wants to talk much about all of a sudden?"
[spoiler]Total post count: 50[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:20, Al’s Not-So-Safehouse, Docklands, London]
It stuck in Al's craw to see Snow go. After that thing in Seattle, he counted the ork a friend, habit or no. He wasn't exactly pleased to have some know-it-all corp schmuck let himself into his castle, either.
But at the end of the day, it was clear Snow went of his own accord. No question there were a half-dozen gunslingers ready to have his back if he'd hinted he wanted that. So there it was.
This was, what, his sixth shadowrun? Which meant maybe his third since realizing that the whole weird scene was actually real, and not just something on the trid, an urban myth, maybe perpetuated by some demented subculture of self-deluded wannabe copycats. Shit, was he actually in this business now? He'd have to give the whole thing some careful thought, because it didn't exactly seem like it was going to get any less crazy anytime soon.
But none of that was here or there. All that mattered now was that he had this family to get safe.
He shot a text to Torrent: <<Hippy here with a slick ride says you sent him. Please confirm.>>
And he went back into the guest room.
There was a serious conversation to be had with the good Doctor Pelletiere.
-
"Yes, Art is incompetent for not checking the safehouses, but I'm still going to see him one time, and that's to get my money no matter how I have to convince him. Besides we're sort of stuck in this now." When Solo mentioned the incoming van she cursed and started preparing the chants to begin casting spell as she crouched by the same window as him. "Never a dull moment. What's next, Toxic or Bugs?"
"Care to make a little wager, Hallucination?" Solo takes very good aim with his assault rifle, he is ready to use full automatic fire but as Snow leaves peacefully he thinks it is unnecessary, he sort of liked the albino orc, but he is no saint. It is just business and he is definitely involved with the wrong kind of guys.
M liked nitro from the first moment she saw him... loud extravagant and dangerous. Solo sort of tried to appear as grey as possible. Being a mage and a decker you sort of have to make yourself a little boring otherwise you tend to visit the hospital often. He seemed to know a little bit about driving... a good opportunity to watch a professional maybe I learn a little bit. All the cool mundanes were getting these awsome implants... Solo also wanted to do so, I wish I had a control rig he thought that way I could really feel the excitement of driving.
He whispers to Hallucination... "That driver guy seems awfully rich."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:56, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
As the adrenaline and shock of the last few hours begin to subside in the apparent safety of their new surroundings the family slowly unpeel themselves from their protective huddle and take in the runners who have saved them. Doctor Pelletiere is still firmly grasping Rachel’s hand but otherwise seems calm and collected. Rachel on the other hand is clearly not and without the resilience of teenage thrillseeking or professional detachment looks on the verge of collapsing in to tears. Will is clearly awed and envious of the runners whilst Natasha oscillates between embarrassment at her continued state of relative undress and flirtatious looks at the more attractive males. She does reserve a special attention for the foul mouthed Al, one that can’t easily be determined as respect or loathing…
The Career Expander account reveals more about the Doctor’s work in pattern recognition, specifically epidemiology and most recently, work, exactly as Al feared, into the spread of Cognitive Fragmentation Disorder, or Sybil! The usual suspects have visited his profile, NeoNet, Evo and SK being the primaries. Perhaps more interesting though are the two government visitors, one from MI5 and the other from their counterparts in Tir na nOg…
***
#24
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
"Even if they were about to take out his van, that was more gear than their skill.." At the mention of the new guy, he takes out his tiny little pistol, slips on his mask, and moves into cover. However once things seem to go peacefully, he relaxes a bit. "Alright I'm going into VR for the next five hours to work on a script." And so he went to go work on his sprites.
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 40th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Switching on Pain Editor
Re-register Data Sprite - edged (http://orokos.com/roll/309055): 15d6h5! 8
Datasprite resisting registering (http://orokos.com/roll/309056): 10d6t5 5
Resisting 10 fade (http://orokos.com/roll/309057): 13d6t5 3
took 7 stun damage.
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint sighed. British understatement seemed well and truly to be a thing of the past. But at least the ride seemed decent.
"Al, maybe you should invest in a revolving door for this place. Seems like fucking everybody and their mother is coming here tonight."
To the new arrival he said:
"Yeah, yeah. A warm welcome to you and all that. There was a problem in Soho with people who bring a heli to a gun fight.
I hope your ride is armored well or that you aren't to enamored to it, because our score so far tells a scary story about the survival rate of our cars."
-
Solo is quickly intrigued by the new Nitro fella... He adds: "and drones... I lost 3-roto drones already. I am trying to learn how to pilot them but this gig is very unforgiving for newbie mistakes." He offers him a cold beer and ask "'Do you drink?"
-
"Probably corp of some kind. Although it seems everybody is these days." Hallucination said. When the newcomer Nitro arrived she didn't have a good opinion of him formed, besides him being very loud and obnoxious. Dangerous combination, if his skills weren't as good as he said. The Raven as always was curious about the secrets he might have. Hearing Isaint's comment to Nitro she said "Heli, mage, and a lot of snipers. They had our supposed safehouse covered in exploisives. So I hope you were very good at making sure you weren't traced. Torrent's a professional, but the Johnson has proved himself to be very incompetent." Hallucination said. She hadn't been joking about visiting Art earlier. If anything it would be relieving to find him and rip his secrets out of his head. Be a lot more direct and refreshing compared to how Johnson's usually operated. The Raven agreed, but of course it would. It loved secrets, and tricks of the darker nature.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:25, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Al had walked back into the guest room, leaned against the wall and allowed his booted feet to slide out from under him until his butt met the floor. By the time he was seated there was a fresh cigarette lit in his mouth, though his hands had apparently never stopped fiddling with his comm.
He glanced across the room at the huddled family. The boy couldn't decide whether to sit up straight or slouch nonchalantly, and ended up just looking awkward. The girl, barely covered, assumed a more modest pose on his entry, but made a bit too much a of a show of doing so. The wife tried to stop crying in front of him, but then would just start up again. The husband looked at Al, waiting for the questions to start.
Well, he could wait for a few minutes.
Every time Al thought of a question, it made him want to look at just one more thing in the doc's career app, and he took the time to do so. During that process, Spike nosed the door open and found his way onto the floor next to his master, and an encrypted text came in from Torrent certifying the new guy.
Finally satisfied he'd seen what he could on his screen, Al let out a low whistle and looked up at the four citizens. Giving his commlink a meaningful shake, he said, "Corps, spooks, an' Spocks, Doc. What yer into, ain't jist the megas, you got the gummint an' the dandelion munchers after it to. Circlin' ya like toms 'round a tabby in heat. An' I don't mind sayin', stuff you been lookin' at, it's a field o' great interest ta ol' Al as well. Not ta mention the whole damned rest o' the world."
He watched the daughter shift position. Whatever she tried to cover up, it just exposed something else. He tried to decide how old she was, but decided if he had to wonder, then she was too young.
He congratulated himself on his sterling morals and ironclad ethics.
"Way I see it, we's lookin' at nothin' short of an' a good spell worse'n a full-on zombie apocalypse with this thing. 'Cept instead of a few seconds Danny Boyle-style, or a few days George Romero-style, this one takes a few weeks or months. That's the plus side. Onna minus side, the zombies is smart an' shit. An' ya can't tell 'em from folk. On balance, hell, I'd prefer the flesheaters. So aside from wantin' ta git you an' your kin safe, I reckon I'd like ta see your work inna right hands."
An ugly noise escaped from Spike, and Al cursed and shooed the huge dog out of the room.
"Now the other side, they's gittin' more an' more powerful, gittin' in places, so I reckon that explains why besides some parties wantin' ya intact, others seem ta want ya dead."
The last part sent the boy's eyes wide and the wife into a fresh bout of tears, but he ignored it.
"But here's what I need ta know. Yer work, you come across somethin' important quite recently? Never mind if ya published it or told anyone - way I figure, all these here clients an' more may've been watchin' your work without you knowin' it. So any breakthroughs real recent, like? Ya see, here you been workin' away, an' not even a proper security detail on you an' yours. Then all of a sudden, tonight, we got at least three high-speed teams pullin' out the stops in a race ta git to ya. Tell me why, Doc."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:25, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Nitro noted that the crew hadn't exactly been quick to introduce themselves, but from the sounds of it they'd had a bad night, and there seemed to be some other tension int he air... what was that crack about a revolving door about?
He listens to some of the details before giving a low whistle. "Wull then sounds like you lot found yesselves in a right little clusterfuck eh?" He takes the beer and cracks it with a grin "Breakfast o' fuckin' champions eh? But then soun's like you lot have has yesselves a busy night. Lost a set o' rotos eh? Whatchyado, cram some assault rifles in an had em flying in formation around you?" he gives Solo a comisserating clap on the shoulder, not even waiting for an answer before the stream of words starts up again. "Heh, course ya did, we all make that mistake. We get thinkin' about ho much they can add to firepower an don't think that others will see that too and start pumpin' lead at them."
He motions solo to the back of his car and pops the boot. Inside are a pair of armored roto-drones. "Now here, I gots mesself a couple of real beauties. Ya don see these puppies very offen, corpsec use them in defensive patrols. F-B model 'Bumblebee', more than three times the armor o those little MTC pieces o' shit. Sure they ain as fast, but they come standard with an M202 machinegun. I've done a few modifications, upgraded the sensors, installed a smartlink system and gas venting on the guns." He finally pauses for a breath again, grinning at Solo and holding up a finger "But yeknow what I dun do with these things? I don't have em flying off my shoulders. Corpsec know what these are, fuckers have won awards in their little circlejerks so they see these beauties an they bust out the armor piercing rounds, or even a fuckin rocket launcher if they don't like the neighborhood. Ya know the kinda range on these machineguns? No need ta have 'em on top of ya, fly em up over the street and rain fire down, that or fly around the outside of a buildin and start shooting in through the windows. Now, needless ta say aroun' here you start lettin rip wi a couple o' machineguns ya bes be having a way out already set, local fuckin blues don't like that kinda ruckas one little bit so they come howlin and screaming at ya like it's a fuckin terrorist attack. Still, a few bursts o suppressin fire from these little beauties will get mos people divin' for the nearest fuckin sewer grate ta hide in." He laughs and grin as he closes the boot again.
So wassall the hoopla abou then? I dinnin' get told dreck about what's gone down, jus te get mesself te this address an make sure I wassin followed."
-
The Frenchman was this close to just put a bullet in the suit's head. But out of respect for his companions and to extend the survival rate of this run by a few hours hopefully, he held himself back.
He was pissed however.
And with a timing only found in trids, the new guy showed up... and the Frenchman was less than impressed.
Non mais vraiment! Guys, this is f**** ridiculous. First that suit who talk through his ass like no other knows way too much about what we don't. And worst, proved to us how compromised this whole operation is. That one of us leave is ok, we all have a shitload of drek on our shoulders, and Snow had to meet his obligations... But now, who the hell was stupid enough to give Torrent this location?
And on top of that the prick in suit 'recommends' to Torrent a runner to replace Snow? No offense Kiddo, he said at Nitro, but whether Torrent vouch for you or not, there's gonna be some trust issue here.
Who told Torrent we needed some hotshot wheeler? We don't fucking know what's our next plan of action is and last night we had an entire convoy leaving Oxford!
The Frenchman took a couple breaths, trying to cool himself rapidly.
Qu'importe... Well now that you're here... at least you got heavy firepower apparently, could end up being useful. Here's my take on things and no one has to listen to me really. We need to get organized. and we need a safe place to hide while we decide what to do next with the Doc. This place is completely compromised. We need to find out how they find us. and I think it would help if we find out what happened to Art. I don't trust the guy but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he got cheated as much as we did. Hell he may even have been geeked already for all we know.
ISaint, the way you acted... you seem like the expert here in Security. I say you take the lead and start telling people what to do. Most of us probably don't and won't like it, but there're too many of us to be efficient and coherent if we all do as we please.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:25, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
The techniphile just grins at Frenchman, catching the accent and shifting his hair to display the union jack before he responds. "Wull now if we don have a little continental flavor in this merry little band. HA! Dun worry, I understan ya concern. Dunno nothin about this suit ye yammerin about but souns like there's be some grade A shifty shit goin on so I can't say that I blame ye on the trust issue. I reckon in your shoes I'd be havin the same issue, well, if I was wearen any ta begin with."
He chuckles and takes another swig of the beer, his hair shifting to a blue flame effect, similar to that of NOS exhaust burning, no doubt part of where his street name comes from.
-
Isaint nodded at the Frenchman's comment:
"Allright. This isn't my country and I don't have any comments on where we should go, but the sooner we leave here, the better. But until then we have to fortify this location."
He turned to the new arrival:
"Hello Nitro, my name's Isaint. I was hired for this gig to guard a few bodies. Your sudden appearance is not entirely comfortable for me as a seasoned runner, but I trust our fixer. You can make yourself useful and get those drones in the air. I want a Diamond formation on this location with a wide rotation pattern.
Solo, Halucination: After Daddy's unfortunate injury, you are our resident mages. I don't know enough about that stuff to explain your job to you, but if you can summon some air spirits that can keep watch on the astral side. If you have a trick to obscure our location against magical recon feel free to do so.
Unfortunately we lost also a decker, so Tobis will have to pick up the slack. We need early warning if any devices that look like weapons or other military hardware comes near here. I just bought a new toy to help out with that.
What I want to say is this: We can't stop them from finding us - our group is to big and we can't go totally dark if we want to salvage this situation. But we can be prepared for their next attack.
The rest of us will have to pair up and keep a two man watch for two hours each while the rest tries to find some sleep. Keep your weapons close and don't take off your pants - better yet keep also your shoes on. Choose a sleeping place where you have easy access to cover - and I don't mean a security blanket.
Normally, I'd say we trap the entry ways, but we might have to leave in a hurry. If we have to scram we need to agree on a new meeting place now so that we don't have to use possibly compromised communications. Where this is I'll leave up to you locals.
Have all our vehicles facing the exit and in a state to evacuate quickly. So leave your doors open.
Our first priority is the safety of the family, so make sure you recognize them in the dark.
If you haven't yet, reboot and turn all your devices to silent mode. Also someone should probably make sure the family doesn't have any tags on them and make sure the kids' commlinks aren't bugged.
I don't know which one of you is the best negotiator, but we'll need one in the morning when the doctor has decided which corp he wants to join. Maybe Art will be in contact again by then.
That's all I can say from the top of my head. I'll take first watch and familiarize myself a bit more with this place."
-
"I already have one around the compound. Why he did not pick up the man who came for Snow Crash I do not know. He's still here, so that man seems to be able to cloak himself from the astral." Hallucination said. She ndded to the rest of Isaint's instructions, and then went outside real wuick to give the place a quick loo. The presence in her head began to talk.
So what's your next move? The Raven questioned.
She gave the astral equivalant of a shrug Finish the job, what else? It would be much easier to unravel the layers of the mystery from the inside then from the out. It's not like this business is to dangerous, and besides, it's probably more saf with this group than without. We don't have any friends in this part of the world.
Curiosity sated, the Raven chose to be enigmatically silent, as it usually chose to be most of the time. Sarah sighed, the spirit could sometimes be a little exasparating, but it had been it that had helped her escape before.
-
From the moment the explosions rocked the building, it was a blur of magic, bullets, and explosions. Before long Aaron found himself in the back of a car, the other runners doing wizardly things with both magic and the matrix. The job had gone south. What was supposed to be a quick guard duty for a team of professionals saving a doctor had turned into a field trip with the potential to cost Aaron his job, or perhaps even his life. Still, there wasn't anything to be done about that right now, so he enjoyed the car ride and tried to make any sense of the chatter. Apparently the whole thing was being covered up.
"Suits me just fine." he thought to himself. "At least I won't make the news. But I guess I won't be making my next shift either..."
Aaron frowned as he considered what Madezyne would have to say, and then thought of how long this might go on. He had debts to handle, after all. Piss off the wrong people and they come looking for you, corp-gov conspiracies be damned.
Back at Al's, Aaron stayed quiet. He grabbed a couple of beers, but to someone of his bulk it was like drinking water. Al was clearly not a man of high tastes, but in a way it was a welcome break from the usual fare at the hotels. At least Al wasn't likely to be particular about wrinkled suits or scuffed shoes.
Seeing everyone set in on some kind of planning, Aaron took up his normal position at the door. Anyone in uninvited was asking for a broken neck. Yet here came a man asking for the albino fellow, and nobody seemed to terribly put off by the whole thing. At least no guns were pointed at anyone's head. As things got a bit more busy, Aaron decided that the front door was the wrong door to guard. He moved up to the room with the family, standing outside their door in classic bouncer fashion. At very least, no one was going to muscle past an oversized ork in full body armor. It wasn't much, but it was all Aaron could offer, and it was the best he knew how to do at that point. Clearly he was in way over his head, so he let the professionals sort it out while he kept his eyes and ears open.
[spoiler]14[/spoiler]
-
Solo listened carefully to Nitro... "well I had them for like a few hours... bah cool toys. Saved a couple of us from dodging bullets but definitely not sustainable tough. I am just trying to get a grip on this drone things. As much as i can without a rig that is. Thanks for the tips and as so many people fucked with us already - just welcome abroad"
Solo started to feel the responsibility, they lost snow and daddy, not much redundancy left for such a large team. Again people started to give orders - but these were tactical. Just find a buyer for the good how difficult it may be. That magical Decker seemed interesting enough.
I am the mage he giggled to himself... i guess we are really fucked up. Tough nonsense was a an amazing conjurer. He said to Hallucation..."Playing mage is a difficult shoes to fill for me. I'll try to do my best, but if I am to play mage i need spirits and a lot of them. I'll pull an all start binding stuff, but I'll need to go get a bunch of runes - anything magical you need? I ."
He places an order at his favorite talismonger friend.
>> Debbie, This is nonsense, I need some runes like 1,000 of them, chaos tradition as usual just make sure. M... I also need some relationship advices but nothing good happens after 2:00 am. Let me know when you can ship me the runes... (if hallucination wanted anything he'll order it to her).
"Okay M, he say... I am going to the matrix for a little while. Cross referencing stuff about the doctors very hip research with a possible interest map of the relevant megas... If you get lonely, try not to do stuff that will put me in an awkward state." He laughed.
He looked for Tobias that seemed already deep in the matrix doing something... something odd.
"tobias seemed to be... *scripting?* what is he doing there... coding is the kind of work to do in the office over months... not the quick dirty hacks they do in runs. Somthing odd about that one."
With a small shout... "Anyone want to do some matrix searches with me? I want to understand a bit of the politics around our good doc. You should proboly also help" he grabbed his hand... "Rachel... I am borrowing your husband... it is only fair after you got a dance already." he laughed "Now lets see what sort of work you can do for what megas so you can make an informed decision before we are all dead...".
He prepared his working environment, finding a nice place to cuddle up and dived into hot sim - that safe house was a bit depressing and the matrix was so much better than that world. He rushed in, browsing tiny bits of data trying to figure out what exact use are these corps going to have with the doctors research.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:56, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
The Doctor looks a little surprised by Solo’s request but takes the time to answer Al’s question
“No, nothing that I’d call a breakthrough… I never get to see the whole picture, that was one of the frustrations with my current position, the Japanacorps keep things so close to their chests…”
Rachel visibly pulls her shit together and with a muttered “sorry” interrupts her husband,
“It’s Boston isn’t it?! That’s what has changed in all this…those poor people…”
***
#25
-
While trying to piece togheter some background profile Solo consult with the doc. "So Doc, you think that jap mega want you to keep silent? I always felt that this CFD is way bigger than the media would like to admit tough I have no experience with it. Urban brawl league had their worst year in decades... you are saying this is a lot smaller than people on the street thinks?
What about Evo and NeoNet? does anyone of them really need you? where do you think your contribution is the greatest... trying to figure out what's your end game is. For us it is just another day at work... but this night can effect your entire career and family life."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
"Nah, correct me if I'm wrong, doc, but I don't think he's sayin' it's smaller than ever'one thinks, jist that his role in it is jist one piece of a much bigger work. Hell, lady's right, with Boston goin' under, ever'one knows it's big, an' every corp knows there's money ta be made."
Al started to wander off, wanting to leave Solo and the doctor to figure out the man's best deal - though he was already pretty sure he knew who they should contact first. But he added one more thing on the way out: "So with all that money at stake, who would want him dead instead of alive? Well, I reckon it's these headcase types theyselves. They sure as hell don't want no cure found, an' who knows which people at the tops o' which corps is infected. So ya can't jist think about what corp offers the best deal. Ya gotta think about which corps got an individual ya kin trust ta make the damned deal with."
-
That's great idea Al, I'll cross reference with some rumors, social networks and sleazy gossip sites. It take a while for the idea to sink in, and then Solo has a pretty worried expression on his face:
"...But Al, do you really think that headcases can hide their nature well enough to keep a cooperate job? This is unthinkable... Some of these *things* have nothing in common with meta humanity. Are we giving eTher a call? I am not sure we are enemies today. She is highly ranked and is definitely clean. We can off course wait for a few hours - but under the circumstances - a Johnson don't just forget he hired such a massive gig and become unresponsive after missing his drop... If your runners are thinking how are they going to get paid they are unpredictable. He do not want unpredictable with all the mess that's been going on... it's been like 5 hours already... can we write treat Art as history already?"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:56, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Nitro takes the time to get his car turned around, carefully, and opens up his RCC loading up several programs as well as a top of the line Agent. This done there's a low buzzing sound as a full half a dozen Fly Spy minidrones take wing and fly out the window to take up a surveillance net around the safehouse. "There we go, many people insis on trying ta watch a dozen drones at once, pha waist to time and jus sensory overload. Ye get yesself a good agent an let it handle the network. Ya jus make sure ye let the blighter know what ya lookin for an it'll ping ya if annythin shows up. Leaves ya mind clear for more importan tasks."
This done he takes a look around the safe house, nodding in approval at the workshop and giving a low whistle at the damage done to the van. "OI! Wassyaname Al wassit? Ya happen ta have any spare parts layin aroun this workshop o yourse? Ya got some nice tools here an if we're gonna be sitten aroun for a few hours i might be able ta fix this clapped out junker a bit." Not even bothering to wait for an answer he lifts the hood and starts poking around to assess the damage and see what he can fix without parts, and what's going to need replacing.
[spoiler]Drones are running silent. RCC is running Virtual Machine, Signal Scrubber, Clearsight 6, Fly Spy Maneuvering 6, Fly Spy Stealth 6 and a Rating 6 Agent. Agent's orders are to use the drones to setup a surveillance net and inform Nitro of anything approaching the safehouse or lurking around nearby. Signal Scrupper and Vectored Signal Filter both provide 2 points of noise reduction, with two unused program slots the RCC itself provides 2 more giving the drone network a total 6 points of noise reduction.
Once I know how many dice I'm rolling (build/repair has a lot of modifiers) going to attempt some basic repairs on the van using the workshop tools and equipment. Doubt I can get it fully repaired, but hopefully get it into a more drivable state.[/spoiler]
-
Solo suggests to Nitro... "If you are going to do some repairs and modifications I think I have just the spell to help ya... I am quite capable with hardware if you want to wait for some more dedicated help."
-
Nitro lifts his head from the guts of the van and tilts his head quizzically at Solo both his cybereyes focusing intently "A spell? Ye one o those mumbo-jumbo mage types? I thought ye was talkin' about learnin ta be a rigger... an dinn I hear ye talkin about lookin fer stuff onna Matrix?"
-
Solo laughed... "Well, I mainly see myself as a decker but I am awakened since birth and sort of learned how to use magic to push my skills to the limit. Mumbo jumbo is what I think about most magical traditions with the chanting and rituals... I am a practical person, I just stick to what works.
I deck when decking works, I sling some mojo when mojo works... and now I'll try to learn a bit more about driving and gunnery. That way I'll have another option for the cases where a fast car or some air support are the best answers. If you work alone, you have to know your limitations and work around them. You may be the best decker in the world but sometimes it is better to have a gun than a Deck... other times Mojo does things that guns can't and I can see the potential in being able to drive and shot from drones for the times when this is the best course of action. So I am no rigger, and due to mojo limitations may never be - but as I work alone, driving fast enough or shooting stuff from distance may save my life if I can learn how to do so."
-
Nitro grins and chuckles, shaking his head. "A regular ol' Billy JOAT eh? Well, I can say i understan tha whole magic malarky at all.. but if he wan' ta become a riger an not want ta messup ya whole aura thingamawhatsit then ye jus need ta make sure ye get yesself some quality 'ware. Don't just grab any old hunk-o-wires someone offers ya that fell out o tha back o a truck, get yesself some Alpha or Beta ware... also, ye might wanna go poekn aroun' somethin about some place ya can trust that does genetic work, there some treatments out there that'll halp ya body accep an adapt ta implants better."
He looks back into the van, shaking his head with a sigh "As fer ya magic, do as ya will... this pile o' junk is almost beyond savin' I'm sure as dreck not gonna be able ta put her back tagether in a few hours... but I reakon I can at leas get her runnin better so it doesn kill anyone tryin ta pull any fancy drivin."
-
"Genwork you say... isn't it a bit of dangerous right now? I'll look into these augmentations once I have the cash, mojo will be hurt but nothing in life is perfect, and it feels that driving is either you have it or you don't - I've seen incredible things in bike races and such. I just got myself a racing bike and am itching to try my luck in street races to pick up a few tricks" He gently and casually touches Nitro's hand. "Think of something... I bet your mind is clearer then ever. Cheaper than brain augmentations... I could make a fortune in universities" he laughs.
[spoiler]
Nitro is heavily augmented so it is a bit difficult to effect him with health magic.
Improve Logic (-5 dice to due to augmentations) (http://orokos.com/roll/309322): 10d6t5 7
Hell of a roll tough... +4 logic.
Resisting drain:
Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/309323): 15d6t5 6
no drain.
By the way, I think Al's car is in the shop but perhaps you can fix Snows car.
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
"...But Al, do you really think that headcases can hide their nature well enough to keep a cooperate job? This is unthinkable... Some of these *things* have nothing in common with meta humanity. Are we giving eTher a call? I am not sure we are enemies today. She is highly ranked and is definitely clean. We can off course wait for a few hours - but under the circumstances - a Johnson don't just forget he hired such a massive gig and become unresponsive after missing his drop... If your runners are thinking how are they going to get paid they are unpredictable. He do not want unpredictable with all the mess that's been going on... it's been like 5 hours already... can we write treat Art as history already?"
Al smoked for a bit and digested Solo's speech. Turned it over. "Yes. Yes. And yes." He decided he needed to pee, but it could wait another few ticks. "I been followin' this Sybil thing close as I can on Jackpoint. Reckon I'm takin' it pretty seriously. Accordin' to the community, yes, these soulsnatchers is wormin' they way into all levels o' gummint an' corp. Like ya say, some's freaks. But they learn from they hosts, an' some is real good at blendin'. An' hell, some stay in they positions even after they git found out."
He thought of giving Silk a call. He decided he would, just one more check on Fairy Twinkle Dragon's bona fides. But he already knew what his gut told him. "An' yes, since we don't know which organizations wanna pay the good doc an' which want him dead, well, less you find some real pot o' gold offer in these here searches yer doin', my vote is indeed for a call ta eTher. I worked for her before, an' that run was her goin' against factions in 'er own corp fer the sake o' uncoverin' data on this virus. I wanna make one more call, but someone I trust trusts her, so seems like the right play ta me.
"An' as fer Art, don't know if he screwed us or got screwed hisself, but that don't make no matter nohow. He's outta the picture, an' that's jist how it is. Now if'n you'll excuse me, I gotta go take a wicked piss."
In the bathroom, he got a call from the Vicar. Some of his lads had come through, and brought Al's Bulldog out to the off-license a few blocks away. He took Spike, walked over, watched the van for about ten seconds until he was absolutely sure no one was watching, and drove his baby home.
Which was what got the hippy's attention.
"Yeah, Al's my name, don't wear it out. Alouicious Harlan Guthrie, esquire, at yer service. An' if by that you'd like ta have a crack at my girl here, well, reckon you kin start with the perforated radiator." Then he sat down on the floor and dozed off briefly as Solo and Nitro discussed the fine points of what appeared to be endless arrays of cybernetic bells and whistles and devil-worshipping doohickery.
-
Isaint nodded at Nitro's explanation. Agents were precisely what he had in mind to keep an eye open in the matrix:
<<Susi: New order. Direct surveillance. Record any online presence entering a 100m radius. Search for weapons, cyberware, military hardware, high end commlinks and armor, use fuzzy logic algorithm(TM) to increase search parameters logically. Instruct agent cluster to assist through distributed processing.
Also keep an eye out for attacks, marks and other illegal actions.
If illegal actions are detected, initiate full defense, alert me, activate jammer, smoke and mirrors and prepare defensive actions>>
While he walked around the place to familiarize himself with the layout so that he would be able to find his way around even if he was blinded, he started to read up on what he could find about CFD on Jackpoint.
#68
-
As Aaron stood guard over the family, he couldn't help but overhear talk of some kind of virus. Not being one to keep up with the latest scare stories, this "sybil" business was completely over his head. But whatever it was, apparently it had drawn major corporate and government interest. And that "interest" felt a lot like a big red target on his head just then. He noticed Isaint wandering around and decided to flag him down for a chat.
"You look like you know what you're doing. What's our plan here? I've done defense in some hot situations, but never against full military outfits like that. And my jobs are usually measured in hours. This is way beyond my scope."
-
As Solo finished with the searches, his mouth was dry he took another beer and said... "Al buddy... how about trying to fix that van of yours. I don't know much about fixing stuff but Nitro seemed interested... I bet he has already started. The dude seems very energetic... and I'd totally like to learn a little bit, just in case one of my drones ever survive a hit... Are you sober enough for the gig?"
-
Isaint looked up and showed Jackhammer a wry smile:
"I know the feeling. But don't worry, professional military is usually not all that bad to deal with. They are fairly predictable.
The first stage is always recon. Those guys hate going in blind, so if we keep on our toes, we should have a solid warning that something is up.
Next comes shock and awe: They get in position and strike with overwhelming force to minimize casualties on their side. At this point we hopefully are already in our respective rides and out of here. We spread out and hope they don't have enough back up to catch everyone.
What I do worry about is a more subtle attack: A mind control spell, a gas attack or a well chosen black mail to gain a traitor. That could be as devastating as a bomb dropped from above.
All in all the plan is: Get the family to a new home and receive a paycheck, while not getting shot.
Oh and one other thing: Your bouncer stance will get you shot with those people. There is no one to be scared away - just people who will shoot an obvious guard before he can react. Get behind some cover so you are able to counter when the flash bangs start flying."
-
That's probably why they call me the Frenchman. He answered Nitro after his accent remark.
ISaint, I don't need much sleep. Three short hours and I'm good to go for a full day. Don't even need Soycaf after lunch.
Now, let's say I've been under a rock until a couple days ago and my matrix connection wasn't cooperating when I got out. Can anyone explain to me in simple words what's that Boston and Sybil virus all about?
-
Aaron takes in Isaint's words and suddenly looks irritated and fidgety. He shuffles back and forth a bit, then resignedly begins walking around, looking for entry points and cover against them.
"Street thugs are more my thing." he says over his shoulder in a vague effort to justify himself.
"Just my luck. Nobody to hit, nothing to shoot. Just wait for the bombs to fall and get out of the way."
Aaron visibly bristled at the prospect of their current situation, but there was nothing he could do that he wasn't already besides having another beer. So he did.
-
"As far as I understand it, it's bodysnatchers with nanites overwriting your brain. The more tech and nanites you have in your body, the greater the danger to become infected.
Now it seems that Boston and especially NeoNET got hit with a new variation: It works faster and there seems to be a fair degree of coordination behind it.
Whoever could control that stuff, could become an absolute ruler with a world full of fanatic followers."
Isaint scratched his beard that he had been growing over the last hour.
"Pretty scary, and possibly the key behind why some want the Doc alive and some dead."
-
The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. He didn't think he had any nanites in him, but he was heavily modified. If he understood properly he was a potential body for infection.
How does that 'Virus' propagate? Are you saying there are powers around who are encouraging that propagation?
That eTher girl at the Hotel, she is NeoNet isn't she?
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
"Al buddy... how about trying to fix that van of yours. I don't know much about fixing stuff but Nitro seemed interested... I bet he has already started. The dude seems very energetic... and I'd totally like to learn a little bit, just in case one of my drones ever survive a hit... Are you sober enough for the gig?"
The skinny unshaven man slitted his eyes. Five minutes dozing was about the first sleep he'd had in two days. And now it was over. He motioned with his chin across the room. "Looks like our alternahaired friend done already got started. But sure, ol' Al don't mind seein' how things is goin'."
He dragged himself to his feet, scratched his as contemplatively, then sauntered over to his shot-up van.
-
Nitro nods along listening to Solo as he continues poking around inside the van. "Ahhhh Genetech is pretty much fine, they mostly use retroviruses to do tha work. It's less addin to tha body as it is alterin it, heck of a lot ya can do to a metahuman body once ya star optimisin their DNA. Now nanites on tha other han 'ave a some people pissin their pants, pha! Ya steer clear o headcases ya fine, if ya get up close an perssonal than it aint really gonna matta watchya got or not eh?"
He pulls his head out of the van for a bit, looking it over then back at Solo with a grin. "Hmmm, now lemmie get sommin strait, we gots oursself an egghead who lossa people want.. some for his 'ead, some to smear his 'ead over the nearest available wall eh? Allso earin rumlins of a Johnson who's gone AWOL leavin you lot holdin a greased pig with a spotlight shinnin outchya ass. Well, don think I can halp much with what ya gonna do with 'im, but I reakin I can halp with how ya gonna get 'im there." he pauses to nod and grin at Solo "Ya be sayin wa wanna try out those hot wheels o yourse on tha streets eh? Well, I jus 'apen to ave some ties with tha London street racing scene, I coul mebbey make some calls, get some boys to setup a race meet nearby. We split tha marks up among our cars, dun wanna be riskin some git droppin' a fuckin missile up our tailpipe to solve all tha problems at once, we rok up to tha meet, break it up and slip away among twenny somthin vehicles." This time be pauses to look at Al, jerking his head towards the wrecked van "Inna meantime we fix this slag'eap up bes we can, then at tha meet give it over to a few o' tha boys to take a joyride, now dun worry I'll tell tha boys ta look af'er it. But seems my guess is lass time anyon saw tha marks they was all pilled in it yah? They see this thin tearin away from a meet will hopfully pull a few away from tha ressof us."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Al shrugged. "Sounds fine ta me. Dependin' o' course on the wheres, whens an' so forth o' the meet." He patted the side of the non-descript white Bulldog, identical to thousands of others in London. "We use 'er as a decoy, I'll strip the morph plates and spoof reg off 'er first. Too much hassle ta replace. Anyhoo, it'll all be down ta the details once we settle on the buyer. Fer now, yeah, grab another beer an' let's git ta work."
-
Solo nods at Nitro. Augmentations were not a path that he considered before but chaos wizards do not tend to follow rules. They take anything that work, magical or not. Augmentations won't happen this specific mission tough, and magic could be a powerful ally to mimic their effects.
When Nitro speaks about street racing he answers "I'd appreciate it... will be fun to explore the limits of that mirage." . Afterwards, he carefully look and try to help as much as he can when the two runners begin working on the technical stuff of repairing. If Solo is really going to invest some of his attention in rigging he might as well learn a little bit about how to fix the darn things. He had a technical sense and was capable in fixing hardware and electronics, plain mechanics were beyond his experience.
-
The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. He didn't think he had any nanites in him, but he was heavily modified. If he understood properly he was a potential body for infection.
How does that 'Virus' propagate? Are you saying there are powers around who are encouraging that propagation?
That eTher girl at the Hotel, she is NeoNet isn't she?
"I've got no idea who eTher is. First time I hear this name was tonight. But the virus isn't a virus but nanites that corrupt and reprogram other nanites. As I understand it, those little buggers are used in non-invasive surgeries to coat bones with titanium, thread wires to your reflexes and other such stuff. Some of those stay behind and are integrated in the whole structure, same as buildings that have been build with smart materials. Allegedly, that's also the reason why some buildings and a lot of nanoforged weapons have turned to rubble/slag: They were infected, there dormant nanites tried to rewrite a nonexistent brain and in the process destroyed their structures. Nasty stuff all around.
And yes, there is always someone horrible enough to thrive and profit from a disaster like this.
But again, this is all speculation as far as I can see. Boston seems to be a different strain - faster, nastier and with purpose."
Isaint paused.
"Assuming that some of those "headcases", as they are called, infiltrated S-K or whoever attacked us and executed that ambush, we'll have the devil of a time to get the Doc to safety, so he can continue his work."
#71
-
The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. He didn't think he had any nanites in him, but he was heavily modified. If he understood properly he was a potential body for infection.
How does that 'Virus' propagate? Are you saying there are powers around who are encouraging that propagation?
That eTher girl at the Hotel, she is NeoNet isn't she?
"I've got no idea who eTher is. First time I hear this name was tonight. But the virus isn't a virus but nanites that corrupt and reprogram other nanites. As I understand it, those little buggers are used in non-invasive surgeries to coat bones with titanium, thread wires to your reflexes and other such stuff. Some of those stay behind and are integrated in the whole structure, same as buildings that have been build with smart materials. Allegedly, that's also the reason why some buildings and a lot of nanoforged weapons have turned to rubble/slag: They were infected, there dormant nanites tried to rewrite a nonexistent brain and in the process destroyed their structures. Nasty stuff all around.
And yes, there is always someone horrible enough to thrive and profit from a disaster like this.
But again, this is all speculation as far as I can see. Boston seems to be a different strain - faster, nastier and with purpose."
Isaint paused.
"Assuming that some of those "headcases", as they are called, infiltrated S-K or whoever attacked us and executed that ambush, we'll have the devil of a time to get the Doc to safety, so he can continue his work."
#71
Solo smiles at Frenchman, he catches their conversation in one of his beer brakes he adds:
" Don't you remember her Frenchman? You danced together earlier this night . Quite a looker a senior manager in NeoNet, decking and magic skills and a drake. I'd figured you remember dancing with such a memorable lady.
... I discovered her Decker name eTher when I was feeding you data during that dance. Apparently Al has her number - they worked together in the past or something like that.
..
To Isaint: eTher was probobly the one in command on the team of runners you whacked in oxford ... Did you get the impression that they wanted the doc alive?
"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
The two men had set to work on the van, Solo watching and learning.
Al was impressed. The new guy definitely knew his way around an engine, and he was sharp. The way he could work went beyond just knowing what to do - it was like he was playing chess with the shot-up van, plotting what the next three steps would be with preternatural foresight, almost as though he could anticipate all the roadblocks the severe damage would throw across their path.
They were making incredible progress, four hands working as one, and then, for no reason Al could tell, the damned hippy just seemed to get bored and wandered off. Turning to their student, Al put out his spent cigarette on a carburator head and said, "Well, looks like I'm on my own now." And he got back to work.
-
Oh, I remember her alright, just wanted to confirm her affiliation. If you ask, a little too teenage looking for my taste. But, hey, the girl can move, you got to give her that.
That Sybil shit is scary, I got to concede. That said, I still think we should secure what's in the doc's head on top of the individual himself; transfer or copy it to a datalock.
The Frenchman shook his head at the trio sharing beers and grease under the van. Sure, Al had a pretty fancy installation, but it was the middle of the night and the next day could become frantic very fast. He had hope for a fully alert team.
I admire your dedication guys, but it's the middle of the night, you should all get rest the way ISaint suggested. Sleepy head are first to make mistake and in our field it can be deadly. I'm not your mother, you do as you please. ISaint, you should rest too. I usually sleep 12 to 3 in the afternoon. I can keep the watch for tonight.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Al appreciated the Frenchman's advice. And wished he could take it. But his one window for sleep tonight had already been shot by their new engine enthusiast. No reason to lay his own problems on everyone else, and in any case, he'd get more done this way - his van really was in a bad state.
"Well, long as yer gon' be up, Frenchie, might as well be livin' a little," and he tossed the man a beer.
The conversation Solo, Isaint, and the Frenchman had been having while he and nitro worked reminded him he had a text to send.
<<@Silk: That job last year for Fairie Twinkle Dragon. Impression was she was more than just a client, more like a friend of yours. Just how much would you trust her? Got a tasty package here, it's the same sort of thing she sent us into that NeoNet data farm after, it's hot like an August day in Georgia, and we're looking for a buyer that'll make the best use of it, while simultaneously not killing us. Pretty sure she's in the mix already anyway - what do you think?>>
Then he pocketed his comm, took off his jacket, his yellowing wifebeater revealing a variety of body art and scarring, and got back to work on the van. "Solo, sleep if ya can, an' if'n ya can't, hand me that wrench, er, spanner."
-
Solo was fascinated when Al and Nitro fixing the car. Honest labor, not fancy mojo slinging like a mage would approach it. Mages... they solve all their problems with magic.... But these people they actually understand what they are doing. He asked many questions and fetched them tools. He hoped he was not being annoying but every time he learns a new trick he is like that.
Then Nitro decided to bail out - Solo wondered if it was something he said.
"I'll take this opportunity to grab some beers Al, I should get some sleep also - I am the kind that actually need to sleep at nights. Not like some of the runners here that sleeping during the advertisements in TV is enough sleep for them." Beside that, he probobly had too many of these beers. Hallucination told him she was not going to drink and he sort of drunk more just in spite. This night was confusing The spirit messed up with his emotions, augmenting them and sometimes sending him lusting thoughts that were completely unrelated to the conversation.
This is must be how head cases feel at the beginning. He thought at M.
Distracted a bit he fetches Al the tool. "Quite a fan of body art, aren't you ?" He said. T
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Al thanked Solo for the beers and wished him a good rest. Hell, it was no wonder the guy needed some shut-eye - he was a one-man dynamo. Al could barely keep up with all the stuff that guy got up to in one night.
But for this Southern boy - right now was all the rest he needed; it had been a night filled with gunfire, explosions, and more than a little witchcraft. And even since returning to his little Fortress of Solitude, there hadn't been a quiet moment until now. Several of their number were finally sleeping, either in cars or dark corners, one on the boat. Good choice - there was just enough movement on the water to provide a nice rocking motion. Once released from Solo's forced servitude, the Doc had gone back upstairs to his family, and things were at last quiet up there behind the door faithfully guarded by Jackhammer. So now Al worked in peace - which he was certain wouldn't last long - as he sipped his beer and accumulated grease deep among the folds and crevices of the hideous scarring that covered his hands.
Which made him think of the spirit Hallucination had watching his place.
He still needed to talk to her about that.
-
In one sharp reflex, the Frenchman caught the beer that was tossed at him. At least it was fresh, thanks to Al's efficient cooler.
He nodded at the small scruffy man, opened the can and let the refreshing beverage run down his throat. He wasn't much of a beer guy, but on the occasion he admitted it was good.
-
Frenchman... since you need no sleep, you can have my RCC until the morning. It has both my bikes and some recon drones slaved to it. If you can have a look it will be great. I do not trust software that much.
Now where am I going to sleep... This place was clearly not his kind. Solo wanted a bed a real bed to sleep on, preferably with some company - but sleeping on the floor like a squatter was out of the question. Dammit... I should get myself a trailer that way I can always sleep in my own bed.
He thought as he crushed on a carpet, hugging a cushion.
Good night Solo...
"Good night M... I take it you are not going to be here in the morning..."
"It just make me the perfect girlfriend, now just pretend to be hugging me and I'll make you sleepy in no time... At dawn I return home... you know the drill already."
"You are unlike any other spirit I've ever met... thanks M" He thought and descended into deep sleep.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
The van was up on jacks now, and Al stood under it in the pit, reaching up to access the tranny. It was a straightforward but time-consuming phase of the job, and his mind wandered. He thought of the Tattoo Witch. He reckoned he owed her a lot, and pain in the ass she that she was, she'd turned out to be right about at least one thing. But the price of getting there had been their friendship. Hadn't seen her in, what was it now, going on ten months? He'd missed her quite a bit more than he'd thought he would, but hadn't thought of her in a while. He wondered why he thought of her now.
*****
"Quite a fan of body art, aren't you?" Solo had ventured after handing Al one more tool and turning to go find a spot to crash.
Al had glanced down at what was visible on his arms - all old stuff: the hula dancer wearing nothing but a lei and gyrating whenever his paltry right bicep flexed, the Stars and Bars, vivid red on the same shoulder, and further down, on the inside of the forearm, his old Troubleshooters insignia. And then his left arm - all those names, all neatly X-ed out.
He'd chuckled and barked back, "Grow yerself a pair o' tits, baby, an' I'll show ya the good stuff," as the hacker-mage had taken his leave.
*****
He wasn't completely stupid. He knew Isaint and Frenchie were right about how compromised the place probably was. But in all his years he'd found that the disaster you expected was never the one that actually struck, so he didn't figure they'd get hit here. But he did figure they'd get hit again before this thing was done. That stuff in the doc's head, and whatever he'd be able to come up with going forward, he didn't much favor the melodramatic, but this was world-ending stuff, the way he saw it. The kind of stuff people came after.
Frenchie was right - they needed to back it up. Just in case. He'd talk to him once the tranny was done.
He was getting tired. But the idea of the Tattoo Witch having that beautiful brain taken over by some nanite infestation, or of having the folk back home on the mountain subsumed by this godless atrocity of a virus or whatever it was, it was too much to handle.
He kept working on the van.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Nitro was used to working with just a toolbox of kit, having a properly equipped facility he was like a kid in a candy store, withe that mojo buzzing around in his brain he was able to quickly identify a lot of quick simple fixes that would get the swiss-cheezed van back into a drivable state, as well as some longer fixes that would take tome but go a long way to getting it back to road worthy... at least for what they had planned anyway.
He started making plans and calls as he worked, even if they didn't wind up using it, the race meet would add to the general confusion in the area. After a while he started getting more absorbed in the calls than the repairs and misread an AR cue resulting in a discharge, and a lump on the back of his head as he jumped in shock, both literal and metaphorical.
Grumbling and swearing to himself, and rubbing the back of his head he wanders around making calls and checking the rest of his gear, working his connections in the street racing scene to get the short notice meet running. At the mention of getting some sleep he laughs and waves it away "I was aslee when I go tha call to come out here, sure I'mma li'l short but I'll be fine."
Eventually he walks back over to the van, noticing Al working on the transmission he dives back into the job, the two working together almost as flawlessly as before. "Sonnovabitch that hurt! Sorry bou that, but ya seems to 'ave done a pretty goo job if I ken sayso mesself. Done wha I can ta get tha meet uppin runnin, way I figure even if we dinna use it, it's aleas' gonna muddy tha waters roun' ere a bit."
[spoiler]Post count 57[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
"Well, the waters is sure muddy enough fer us, couldn't hurt none ta muddy 'em up some fer the other side. Nice work."
So much for the peace and quiet. But he'd known it wouldn't last, and this Nitro person was starting to grow on him some.
And anyway, there was a lot of work to be done, so he was glad for the help.
-
To Isaint: eTher was probobly the one in command on the team of runners you whacked in oxford ... Did you get the impression that they wanted the doc alive?
"
Isaint thought a moment before he answered:
"Yes. They used him as a shield, but they were playing for time to make their exit. But one thing is for sure: They were aware that another team would turn up and laid a trap accordingly.
Looking back, that whole operation was compromised from the start. Our superior numbers did tip the scales in our favor."
To the Frenchman he said:
" Always remember rule 3: Don't get involved with dragons - for you are crunchy and taste great with ketchup.
But I take you up on your offer. Combat does tire me out. I have to learn that Yogi trick sometime to meditate instead of sleep.
But try not to have our throats cut. That kind of thing makes me grumpy in the morning."
#72
-
Aaron settled in for some sleep to the sound of whispered family tensions and Al working on his van. It wasn't the first time he'd slept in such poor accommodations, but it was by far the most unusual circumstance. A few meters away was a doctor with a datalock responsible for groundbreaking work into some nanite mindslave zombie virus; Elsewhere scattered around were several apparently professional drivers, mechanics, hackers, mages, soldiers of fortune, and probably even an assassin or two; beyond the walls somewhere, corporations and governments alike were coordinating some kind of imminent strike on their team to either capture or take down the doc, and by this time, probably anyone who could have had access to his datalock. The whole team was in a rough spot. But they sat around drinking beers, working on cars, and swapping old stories like it was a Sunday picnic.
"So much for easy money. These people are insane."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
<<@Silk: That job last year for Fairie Twinkle Dragon. Impression was she was more than just a client, more like a friend of yours. Just how much would you trust her? Got a tasty package here, it's the same sort of thing she sent us into that NeoNet data farm after, it's hot like an August day in Georgia, and we're looking for a buyer that'll make the best use of it, while simultaneously not killing us. Pretty sure she's in the mix already anyway - what do you think?>>
<<@Al: You do manage to find the most interesting varieties of trouble! I presume you mean eTher? I wouldn’t call her a friend, she’s too damn manipulative for that. I know I dance to their tune but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Aria is close to her though, and she is my friend. Trust is another thing I wouldn’t extend too far that way, she’s a dragon, well drake, and they don’t think like we do. But I believe she would deal fairly with you and I suspect that’s the best offer you’re going to get if your package is that hot. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was involved, reading between the lines NeoNet have their fingerprints all over this thing. Let me know if I can help any more, I’ll even waive my fee if you give me the details once the dust settles.>>
***
And so the night drags on to early morning and there is a vague lightening in the sky overhead, when suddenly the team’s watching spirits begin to cry a warning… “ritual magic…” the sending is powerful and the astral shimmers with the force of the incoming spell
<<@Team [Torrent]: You are compromised, don’t ask me how I know because I ain’t going to tell you. Get out! You need to go Underground, don’t worry, I’ll arrange a guide otherwise you’ll never make it back out alive again.>>
Almost immediately the power to the block browns-out and the meagre light coming in the begrimed windows grows stronger by contrast…
***
#26
-
Dammit!... what does torrent mean by going underground? to the sewers?! ... If only we sold the doc when we still could. Too late for that now, he thought. He looked around, that light was worse than morning coming early. He looked from the window trying to figure out what is going on.
"Everybody up!" He screamed with a slightly high pitched voice that struggled to be loud. The beg with deck and RCC was right in his lap. He rushed to his equipment, and then tried to look in the window to see what is going on.
[spoiler]
Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/310013): 12d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint was munching on a nutri bar when the message came. He swallowed and called:
"Damn it to hell! Al, does this place have sewer access? If yes, just open the doors and let the rides out on autopilot. Ritual magic sounds like we need to get behind some very heavy cover - preferably a ward or some place with high background count.
Jackhammer, get the family. Shoes are most important - everything else is secondary."
#73
-
Solo it is ritual Magic... I am still here.
"Too bad I am not skilled in counter spelling... who would leave something he loves or some of his DNA behind? "
He cried "I think it is the doc! Hallucination can you protect him?"
Solo was not comfortable playing the mage - he still lacked a lot of magical knowledge but his heart and professional focus shifted all the time and he was excited about driving. I can increase his willpower I bet it will help him resist the spell if it is not too late.
-
*This is why I don't do personal bolt holes...*
"Isaint, Underground is the London subway, not the sewers."
Smiley is awake and hustling the family up and together quickly, he already knew where the nearest subway entrance was from his physical sweep of the area the night before, unless Al pipes up with some hidden access. As soon as the family is mobile and he has a couple of the group's heavies ready to move them, he prepares to take point and show them the way.
Focusing his power, he uses the Voice to keep the family on track. "Stay together, stay calm, once we move, keep moving."
-
Getting killed in the subway was way better than in the sewer Solo managed to put a smile on his lips.
"Smiley! Thanks about that... I was a bit worried... can totally do subway" Solo was ready to leave.
He had his new racing bike, and the growler that could be used for a quick get away.
"Anybody need a ride? I think that even with two riders the Mirage is faster than most wheels. There is also the growler. "
He found himself going after the family and smile, with his gun ready for action.
-
Aaron jumps to his feet, ready to punch someone. He tries to blink the sleep from his eyes, but they stay just a bit foggy. The darkness of the morning doesn't help matters.
Looking around, he slowly remembers where he is and what's going on. He heard the orders being thrown out and gathered that they were either headed for the sewers or the subway. He checks his gear and makes sure the family is moving. Anyone who doesn't stand up fast enough is picked up, and anyone who doesn't walk fast enough is encouraged. "No time for tea, let's move!"
He looked around for Al as he herded the family along. "How far is the subway?"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Al looked up at Jackhammer. "How the hell should I know? I look like someone that rides the damned Tube?"
He looked at the unearthly light filtering through the windows. Sure, this time of year dawn was not far off here in London, but that was not it. This was what he got for congregating with witches and warlocks.
Seeing that the family was already in motion, he threw his brown leather bomber jacket on and raced to the Elite's trunk - what he'd first taken from the van would still be the best load out - shotgun, bomb bag, and the good medkit would be about what he could carry.
"SPIKE!" but the dog was already at his side.
The van was still on jacks, but once his gear was out he set the Elite's autopilot to make best speed out of town, and he deactivated the safety cutouts, preparing to send it crashing through the closed roll-up door as a distraction.
"Nitro, what're yer drones seein' besides faerie light? We got mortal threats outside as well?"
-
If Al did not know where to go who will, subway? sewers? Solo was not expert on magic but one thing he knew. They got to use some ritual ? is it detection ritual. Solo was a master of stretching his abilities to the fullest. Before they get 'underground' what ever that meant he could help the doc avoid being detected if it wasn't to late.
"Hey doc! I think they are targeting you, give me your hand... I am going to protect you with magic." He rushed and took the doc hand. Solo understood that detection spells are resisted with the power of the will and the power of the mind.
He could almost hear the words of his cooperate instructor.
It was a gamble, but if Solo was proficient in something it was to stretch his abilities to the fullest. If they are targeting the doc and he could augment his mentals - perhaps he will be more difficult to find. It was not counter spelling - but this was his humble contribution to buy them some time.
[spoiler]
Improve Willpower Spell (F5?) (http://orokos.com/roll/310076): 15d6t5 4
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/310077): 11d6t5 2
Improve logic spell(F6?) (http://orokos.com/roll/310078): 13d6t5 4
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/310079): 11d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]
Knowledge Check: Magic Theory
Knowledge Check: Magic Theory (http://orokos.com/roll/310093): 5d6t5 0
Expending Edge (I assume we regained one point for sleep)
Knowledge Check: Magic Theory (http://orokos.com/roll/310094): 5d6t5 1 [5d6t5=2, 1, 2, 3, 6]
Exploding die (http://orokos.com/roll/310102): 1d6t5 1
Exploding die (http://orokos.com/roll/310103): 1d6t5 0
2 Successes
Activating Qi-Focus: Astral Perception: Astral Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/310095): 8d6t5 3 [8d6t5=4, 5, 1, 2, 6, 2, 2, 6]
[/spoiler]
"I know what the fucking Tube is, Smiley. We need to get into toxic territory or somewhere else with high enough background count and or shielding.
If I remember correctly, ritual magic needs either a material link for a curse - usually a illusion - or a spotter for a combat spell.
But who knows what those corporate freaks are capable of. A torture spell strong enough to break someones mind would be in the realm of possibility."
Now that the family was coming down, Isaint activated his focus and opened the third eye. Immediately, the auras of his companions and their guests flared up while the rest of the garage turned grey and hard to discern.
Slowly, he turned around, looking for a spotter on the astral plane that might be directing a massive fireball into their midst.
Baring that, he looked for a mystical link that connected one or all of them to the circle of ritual magicians.
#74
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
"Ahh fuckin' ell, magic? Righto watch me fer a sec while I check onna drone feeds" With that the tecnophile props up against a walls and starts sliding down as his body goes unconscious, the rigger in VR flitting from drone to drone and seeing what the sensors can detect.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Goggily the small dog changeling steps out with the others. "Eh.. why is everyone.. so.. panicky?" he asks rubbing his eyes, before letting out a yawn. Registering sprites was always more exhausting than it should be. And despite the small traces of injury he had around him, he moved like there wasn't any pain.
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 40th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Nitro was checking for ambushes through his drones, Smiley and Jackhammer were herding the exhausted family down the stairs, and Solo looked like he was up to some new hocus pocus with the Doc.
Al was unlashing his boat from its moorings - in the scant seconds since Torrent's first message, he hadn't had time to really confer with his co-workers, but his tentative plan was to send the Toyota crashing out the doors as a distraction, then shoot out the back way on the water. But where to?
Then their comms pinged with Torrent's new message. The quay at the end of his litle inlet, two hundred meters away. An old sewer entrance. So they were going underground. Great - Al called it Kingdom of the Crazies.
At least they had a guide - someone called Goodnight. Hopefully he at least was normal.
-
Smiley moves the family to a door away from the vehicle exits, continuing to use the Voice to reinforce his instructions, "Okay, we are headed for the storm drain just up the row a bit, someone is waiting to guide us from there. I will go first, count to 5 and move after me and be as quiet as you can. If something happens, KEEP MOVING, you can see the building that is across from the storm drain, it's the blue one a block past that beat up green van, see it? The outlet is right across from there."
The Amerind looks to the rest of the team, taking in their positions and knowing who was following them and who was playing decoy. When the vehicles move, he waits two heartbeats and moves out the door, head on a swivel.
-------------
(if we make the drain without incident, Smiley will be the first to spot the dryad)
"Oh my, hello there, I really hope I can call you Goodnight, and if so, perhaps follow through with a good morning as well. " Smiley grins in spite of the tension of the moment, obviously taking the time to properly appreciate the runner's form.
-
Okay... doc is check, now lets get the ghosts of my rotodrones back in the air in their classic formation. Rest in peace little drones.
Without a ceremony, Solo caused 3 rotodrones, armed with AK-97 appear in disguised places on the boathouse. The slowly take off from their hidden places and circle the boathouse in formation... "Nitro is going to be pissed off" thought Solo.
[spoiler]
Solo will cast low force (F3) and use regents to set the max.
He is sustaining two spells, + heighten concern so he has 13 dice to cast:
Illusion of rotodrones (http://orokos.com/roll/310322): 13d6t5 6
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/310323): 11d6t5 2
no drain, 7 runes consumed, 6 successes kept.
[/spoiler]
The illusion was good, his RCC was online, the flying eyes were real. Nitro also has drones, so it seems like a smart illusion.
He say... "what do you think Nitro? Formation like we discussed right?"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
For those still perceiving the astral there is a moment of tension as the sending magnifies in power...then there is a brief moment of metaphysical silence before the detection spell washes over all still in the machine shop and the surrounding area...
***
As the team breaks for the exit there is a roar of sound and a column of fire manifests in the centre of the open space...dancing within the flames can vaguely be seen a humanoid form glaring balefully at the scattering metahumans...
***
The fire spirit, and a damn powerful one at that, followed the sending down to the Doc's location...waiting in the astral plane are a further three spirits of varying strength...each element is represented, someone is not messing about!
-
With an unusual grace, Solo let M take the front sit. She rushed and aura kicked the closest spirit. An earth(?) spirit, kicking something that appeared to mundane eyes as thin air. "We are doing kong fu" thought Solo with excitement.
-
Aaron has the urge to take on the apparent threats, but spirits weren't really his area of expertise. Besides, the family couldn't afford to take any hits, so instead the large ork focused on positioning himself between the family, especially the doctor, and any incoming threats. "Don't slow down!" he ordered, hoping the escape was the right plan.
-
Goodnight waits just inside the three-meter sewer access, her slim form hidden in the shadows and further cloaked by her SecondSkin's ruthenium polymers. She doesn't like London Above; she's allergic to the sunlight and people either shout slurs and insults at her for being a "keeb" or a "leaf" or a "freak," or else try to grab her ass wherever she goes. Its polluted, its loud, its decaying, its bright in all the wrong ways, and while she understands the impossibility of living only in Below, she equates sunlight with her time as a child in Lambeth and tries to avoid it as much as possible.
So she lurks, still shrouded in the shadows. Only her eyes are easily visible, the large, vivid orbs currently glowing an unnaturally vivid purple thanks to her contacts. The color is well chosen, it matches her lipstick perfectly, and it is the only color on her body. Her white hair is held back with a silver alice band that holds her trodes, and her heeled boots- impractical for running unless one has superhuman balance like she does- are chosen for their visual impact rather than their appeal.
Goodnight sighs and resists the urge to tap one purple-painted toe in impatience. She's been here for the last twenty minutes. Erica fixed her up with a job as a guide. Normally she wouldn't be caught dead bringing tourists into London Below, not this close to Shadows' Folly. If they wanted to get back to the Underplex like most people did, they'd have to pass through either Hellbound Station or Night's Bridge unless they wanted to take the long way, and none of those options were easy on visitors.
But...
At the end of the day, she couldn't turn down the request. She owes Erica a lot, and she absolutely had to stay on her good side if she wanted to keep working. The Iron Tolltakers were serious about their debts, and she owed them the lion's share of a hundred kay. If she didn't pay, they'd break her and give her back to the Vory, or take her sister, and the thought of Victoria going through what she went through chills Goodnight to the core. Erica gives her work, work means money, money means not dying in an abandoned railway while thugs drag her teenage sister off in stuncuffs.
Ergo this stint as a tour guide.
Goodnight sighs again, then checks to make sure that her Lightfire is in its proper place on her thigh, that her choker is clasped around her swan-like neck, and that her wrist injector is comfortable beneath her glove. Its all purely nervous tics, this is not her first time to the dance and besides, Erica had warned her that her contact had told her the group she would be guiding would be a mixed bag of tourists and Shadowrunners, so she'd put extra care into her accoutrements.
Impulsive, emotional, and hedonistic was Goodnight, not stupid or unprepared.
Finally, Goodnight shifts her perception to the Astral to check on her spirits. She had only conjured two before setting out, but they glow brightly in her perceptions, strong fire spirits, ready for combat. With them and her own talents, Goodnight is certain she's ready to take on just about anything.
Then she looks around and everything goes to hell.
Only a couple hundred meters away, there's a spirit just as rough and ready as her own, fully manifested and spoiling for a fight. It can't possibly be coincidence that its here right when she's supposed to be meeting a group of Shadowrunners and their charges who seem to have a pressing need to get down into London Below.
Smiley comes around the corner just as she's shifting her perceptions back to the mundane world. Glowing amethyst eyes fix on him for a moment as she drops her ruthenium out, leaving her clad in a bright white catsuit, white gloves, and white boots with twelve-centimeter silver heels. Her hand drops to her gun, but she manages to keep from drawing down on him, and her poison-purple lips curl up into an instinctive I-am-nice-and-harmless, please-don't-mind-me smile as he eyes her form and introduces himself.
"Yes, cherie, I am Goodnight." She says softly. Her voice is throaty, low and musical and perfectly pitched. It is the heartwrenching voice of a balladeer coupled with the whispers in dreams just before waking in the small hours of the night, sweat-slicked and hungry. She can't help sounding how she is, even at inappropriate times. She looks back the way Smiley came and asks, "Is there some problem I should be aware of?"
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Al stopped untying the GMC Outrider when he saw Smiley ushering the family for the front office door. It was clear he was the man for the job - he somehow had all four of them making good time and in reasonable cohesion, and Al knew how to take yes for an answer.
He quickly caught up with them, taking up the rear. They were out the door and he was just reaching for his comm to send the Elite on its distraction run - sweet autopilot on that baby, he had to get his own rides juiced up like that - when all that faerie light coalesced in the middle of his shop, in the middle of his damned shop, damned wizardry, culminating in a column of hellfire from the Dark Lord's own kingdom that transported a fire demon right up out of its depths.
Oh well, no real need to destroy his door now. He put the commlink away and all he could think of was how much he hated demons. For some reason he felt a burning around his right kidney - where Rex was. The family was hightailing it behind Smiley, and he'd promised them his protection.
And then Solo charged the damned thing.
"Blamed fool, gon' git us all killed."
There was nothing for it. Once again he shoved Spike's snout into Rachel Pelletiere's crotch and growled a command in some alien language. Then he ran back for the door. And realized his dog had ignored his order and followed him. He saw Spike, he turned and saw the spirit, and then he thought of that day thirty-four years ago.
It broke his heart, but he slammed the door in the dog's face. "Sorry buddy, this ain't your fight," he said quietly. That was when he noticed he'd put on his brass knuckles. But no, patting his pocket, he felt them there. Yet there were the fingers of his burn-melted right hand, laced with interconnected rings of glowing metal that was hard and hot in his palm.
He charged the spirit that was fighting Solo...well, no, it seemed there must be more than one of the things because Solo was obviously fighting an invisible one. But the fire fiend was moving for Solo's rear, and Al launched himself into it....
-
[spoiler]
Damn, seems like we are attacked by Captain Planet 8)
Ini: Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/310370): 15+4d6 30
So close...
Ini 30:
Agility boost: Agility Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/310373): 7d6t5 1
Rapid draw Rifle: Rapid Draw: Rifle + Reaction [Physical] (3) (http://orokos.com/roll/310372): 16d6t5 7
Fire Vitals Shot at Fire spirit:
6 (Attribute)+8(Rifle)+1(Smartlink) -4(Vitals Shot)= 11
Shoot Fire Spririt (http://orokos.com/roll/310374): 11d6t5 1
13 P AP-7 + 1 Success (in the unlikely case that the spirit doesn't dodge)
Yeah... let's consider that as a warning shot...#
Using my 10m walking speed to get out of the base
[/spoiler]
Isaint was one of the last to reach the door since he still perceived the Astral. Seeing the hell fire manifesting before him, he reacted without a moments hesitation: He called upon the saints guidance and reached for his weapon.
He pulled the trigger the instant the gun was aimed squarely at the head of the creature.
He knew from experience that mundane weapons had problems penetrating the forms of manifested spirits, but he hoped that the high caliber APDS round would slow the thing down.
"By the saints' power, piss off zippo." Isaint cried while he moved towards the door. Not his sharpest parley attempt, but it was still a bit to early for quality banter.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:13, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
Nitro may be no mage, but even he can't miss the column of fire as the spirit manifests, the spirit showing up as a bizarre mixture of signals on the Fly Spy sensors. What the fragging... ohh dreck. Recall! RECALL! His eyes snap open as with a whine his mini fleet of drones flies back in through the window, things starting to degenerate into pandemonium.
As the team hushes out he sees Al hotwiring the Toyota "Not a bad idea chummer, but if you want a wheeled distraction, you're gonna need someone who can drive, that's what I'm here for." He briefly considered launching his combat drones but sook his head deciding against it as he stepped into his BMW and started strapping himself into the 8 point racing harness, if he had to bug out he'd have to do it fast and the Bumblebee was simply too weighed down by armor to make that kind of escape.
The harness secured he pulls the cable from his jack and plugs into the rigging interface of the BMW 400GT.
His body slumps unconscious.
The lights turn on as the high performance electric moters whine softly, the car suddenly leaping forward to crash through the door, the tired scream for a moment as the car slams into full acceleration directly at the towering pillar of flame before twitching around it at the last second and scream on down the street.
[spoiler]OK.. THIS one, I know what to roll...
Reaction 9 + Pilot Ground Craft 5 + Wheeled Specialization 2 + Control Rig 2 + Control Rig Enhancer nanites 3 + Gearhead 2 + Hot Sim 2 + Brand Loyalty 1
Control Rig is boosting the BMW Speed to 6(8) and Handling to 5(7)/4(6)
Gearhead is further boosting handling to 5(8)/4(7)
Control Rig is lowering threashold of all tests by 2
Steely Eyed Wheelman lowering terrain penalty by 1 to a minimum of 0
Driving Test (http://orokos.com/roll/310378): 26d6t5 9 hits
Gearhead Duration (http://orokos.com/roll/310379): 1d6 4 Minutes[/spoiler]
-
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/310430): 3d6+10 23
Smiley guides Goodnight back through the gate and points out the running family members
"Well, there are four mundanes running up the street that need to get gone from the area, quick as we can. That older academic gentleman at the back of the pack? He's our payday, so him gasping and wheezing and taking forever is not going to cut it. The rest of our crew can handle whatever it is that just hit our hideout, the important thing is the squishies and getting them below, can you help with that?"
Having said all that, Smiley runs to the doc and prepares to carry him to the storm drain if he thinks it will help him move faster.
-
The Frenchman kept watched pretty much all night. He had switched to his more comfortable Chameleon suit instead of his Berwick Suit from Mortinmer of London.
Everything had been quiet, outside of Al working relentlessly on the Van.
But the Awaken started the commotion. It was weird as his attuned sense of smell didn't detect any anomaly. But the message from Torrent that appeared in his AR vision confirmed trouble was upon them.
He yelled once to make sure everyone would wake up but seeing a few of the team were taking good care of ushering and protecting the Family, he decided to let them take care of this.
He quickly started his car and had the remaining doors open too for fellow runner to join him. That's when a column of flame materialized by the Safehouse's doors with inside a humanoid form.
And that's why I fucking hate Magic! the Frenchman cursed.
And in more disbelief, he could only watch as Solo, and Al went in Melee with what seemed to be more Spirits, while ISaint attempted to hurt the Fiery one with bullets.
He looked at Nitro pressing on the gas to make the engine of his BMW scream and the Frenchman followed suit with his own car.
Let's get out, now! he yelled. The Frenchman was no way close to Nitro's skills but he was a decent pilot. The Hyunday followed the path opened by the extravagant rigger.
[Spoiler]Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/310576): 2d6+14 19
Driving the Hyunday: Handling +1 (Vehicle Empathy) and Terrain difficulty -1 (Steely Eyed Wheelman)
Skill 4 + REA 8 + Vehicle Empathy +1 + Specialization (Wheeled) 2
Driving (http://orokos.com/roll/310577): 15d6t5 6
[/spoiler]
-
Goodnight nods once, choppily, as her eyes scans the street. "Yes." She replies softly, her voice calm and sweet and entirely at odds with the professional mask and steely gaze that had replaced her appeasing smile. She has drek for data, no guidelines, and two of the mundanes are children. Teenagers, sure, and age meant little in London Below, but still...
Goodnight steps out past the nameless runner with the roving eyes, though he overtakes her quickly enough. Her eyes linger on the girl in the group for a moment and she winces as she realizes that she's roughly the same age as Victoria. She doesn't know what the spirits or their unseen summoner wants, but Goodnight doesn't much care. With a thought and a whispered word, her power focus blazes to life, going from silver, white gold, and opals to a band of snowy flame around her slender throat.
Marshalling her thoughts, she commands the fire spirit she'd summoned earlier. Indicating the building where the strongest spirit is, the one that the family is fleeing, she commands, Go. Aid the mortals you find there. The spirit will obey, Goodnight knows. She wonders for a second how the 'runners still inside will react to the sudden appearance of another fire spirit with the horns-and-wings profile a classical succubus. As a black magic spirit of fire, and a strong one at that, she knows that its definition of aid will manifest suddenly, violently, and all over the place, but if her employer wanted subtlety, it should have been specified.
"See it through to the end," indeed!
With a deceptively leisurely walk that still carries her a good twenty meters, Goodnight sets off up the street towards the fleeing family, her eyes peeled for other attacks.
In the building
There was a crackle, the smell of brimstone, and a second wave of heat. A coruscating column of red-tinged flame roared up suddenly from the floor, geysering ceilingward from a crack that had not been there a moment ago. Then the flame folded back on itself, contracting and changing into another spirit of fire. This one was a woman, a being of grace and beauty cast in the demonic image of its mistress. Flames crowned her head instead of hair, a luxurious mane of red and orange and purple tapers, and crackled on her hands. Wings with struts of blackened bone and panels of citrine fire were folded behind her, and slim black horns curled back along her head, ending in needle points. Her otherwise-nude body was shrouded in ribbons of fire and smoke, concealing her more intimate aspects, if there was anything behind the coverings at all. Her face was similar to Goodnight's, the same big eyes and pouting lips, but her expression was as cruel as a hunting cat's.
-
M was in control, taking Solo's body for feats of impossible grace. Needless to say Solo knew very little about astral combat or any physical combat.
There is another fire spirit Solo... but this one I like very much... A succubus I am going to have so much fun with her in the morning when I am leaving. If she do not disrupt me first thought M.
"You are aware that what disrupt you kill me right?
[/color
"How unfortunate for you... it is not my fault that you are mortal... I'll keep you safe don't worry. Being disrupted is painful - I wouldn't want that" She laugh.
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - At Al's shop - Evacuation Team - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
Aaron stayed with the family as they moved, preferring not to engage large fire demons in close combat. Not to mention the last thing they needed was for the whole team to run off after spirits while a few men in black bag & grab the doctor. He carried his bow as he ran, drawing a stun arrow and notching it. This close to the family, a misfire could be disastrous. But at least with a stun arrow nobody would be dead.
[spoiler]20
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/3106637) [3d6+12=2, 2, 2] 18[/spoiler]
-
Mel was sleeping in the Frenchman's car when she was woken up by the commotion. It took her a moment to understand exactly what was going on, but when she did, she took the few items she had brought with her and tried to escape anonymously and quietly. She set her outfit to blend in with the outside palette and escaped from one of the windows nobody was covering (at least she hoped nobody was keeping an eye on) and went in the general direction the family was escaping to, without being too close to them. She wanted to make herself as much of a waste of opportunity chasing as she could, while still staying only a few moments away from the family.
-
M finished the air spirits with a few fists and kicks, Solo's body was almost gliding in the astral. Then he dodged, Solo did not see an attack but M did and skillfully dodged the astral form of the water spirit. Solo was getting dizzy, his body was fighting enemies he could not see and he felt barely in control of what was happening.
What Solo could see is the fire spirit channeling a massive fire orb toward Al, the other fire spirit materialized as well, she was a beautiful succubus. Solo wondered what tradition conjures such a beautiful beast. He was uncertain if this new spirit was a friend or a foe. Behind Isaint materialized an earth spirit - whom ever is after them must really be into the elements of nature.
M cried "Behind you!" to Isaint, not even looking at him, somehow she seemed super aware of her surrounding. She plays herself as innocent and seductive but wen the shit hit the fan M proved to be quite a combatant, then again spirits are like that sometimes. Solo had no idea that his vocal chords can pull out such a beautiful feminine voice - but they did.
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Headed towards sewer - Evacuation Team (Smiley & Family) - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor; arrow loaded]
The sounds of gunfire and revving engines could be heard behind them. Clearly a lot was going on in just a few seconds. With no time to spare, Aaron scanned the area for physical threats as he continued propelling the family forward, following the runner known as Smiley. At the same time, he concentrated on his innate mana to channel the power of the astral into his tiger tattoo. Though he wasn't a magician, Aaron could always feel the magic around him in a way. He'd never learned to see it, but he knew it was there, like the air and the ground. And now he could feel it in his hands, his tattoo focusing his qi into something dangerous and otherworldly. Though he kept his arrow, he suddenly felt a strange urge to drop it and throw out some punches like he would in any street brawl. But spirits being complicated and dangerous as they are, he decided killing them from a distance would still be the wisest choice.
The arrow hummed lightly as the static shaft picked up a small current from the jostling. Aaron was thankful the backs were constructed with non-conductive rubberized plastic caps, or this whole business could go very sour and look quite silly.
[spoiler]Observe in detail (http://orokos.com/roll/311275) [9d6t5=1, 5, 5, 5, 2, 1, 6, 2, 5] 5 (over limit) 4
21 posts[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]
Bulls Eye Burst (http://orokos.com/roll/311313): 11d6t5 6
Earth Spirit dodge:
Earth Spirit Dodge (http://orokos.com/roll/311314): 11d6t5 3
Dmg: 14P AP 13
Earth Spirit soak:
Earth Spirit soak (http://orokos.com/roll/311315): 10d6t5 1
13 Damage
Sayonara
[/spoiler]
Isaint felt the ripple of Energy behind him the same moment Solo's warning came.
He whipped around and saw the ugly, golem like creature materializing from the ground. His astral sight was still active and he could see the pulsing center where its energies collected earth and concrete dust to form it's massive body.
"No, you won't"
In quick succession he fired three armor piercing bullets into the core, disrupting the flow of energy and forcing the thing back to whatever dimension it belonged to.
At once he turned back toward the two fire spirits. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he did not complain about the sudden infighting. Maybe one of the summoners had worded his command wrong and said the spirit should attack the strongest target within the room - or it was sent by Torrents contact.
Whatever it was, he had bought enough bullets to deal with it.
He swung back his rifle to perform the same trick again...
-
The BMWs engines whines as he barely avoids hitting the Fire Spirit, hopefully distracting it at least momentarily. As more spirits begin to appear Nitro decides to change from evasion to getting everyone where they need to go. Tires squeal as he floors the car towards the running family before making a handbrake turn to stop just short of them, his car between the family and the combat as the passenger side doors open, the rigger's voice coming out of the speaker system.
"Alright everyone pile in, I know it's kinda cramped but it's just a couple of hundred meters, I'll get you there quick and safe"
The car felt heavier, sluggish as it was overloaded. Still the doors finally closed with a satisfying thud, completing his hardened shell. He fed power back into the four high-performance electric moters, no power loss with axles and universal joints, each wheel was powered by its own dedicated moter, something that he regularly took advantage of. The moters whines and hummed, balanced wheels spinning as he turned back down the road, feeding more and more power into them, he could see the other runners heading back towards the shop, his lights flashed a warning, for now, his role was to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible.
He was moving slower than expected, his sensors warning him that he'd exceeded his optimum performance weight, but there was nothing for it, his body now protecting the family from outside dangers until he could deliver them Underground.
-
Goodnight makes to stride forward, one hand going to her monowhip and the other rising to hurl power as the Earth Spirit materializes. But it had chosen the wrong target, and the other 'runner's snapshot tears the thing's magical body apart in a spray of metal and a ripple of mana. She watches him turn back toward the fight raging inside and her eyes narrow. If he shoots her temporary companion, she is going to have to give him a lecture about the nature of spirits and their sapience, sentience, and ability to feel pain.
Probably illustrating the point with a full-sensory illusion of being shot repeatedly in the stomach.
As the car roars up and picks up the fleeing civilians before lurching back into motion, Goodnight steps aside, blowing her breath out through pursed violet lips. With all visible threats gone and the distance to the other combat too great for her to cover in time to make any difference, she turns back and walks toward the entrance to Below in order to meet the civilians and their heretofore unseen driver. As her heels tap on the broken street, her defensive, disarming smile slides back onto her face, reasserting her mask as pretty but essentially harmless.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Blinking as the others are all fighting things, The little dog-like Changeling just flat out Noped! there, taking priority on his own defenses while fleeing with the family. But really, who could blame him, he was clearly not in any way shape or form a magical super power, and obviously had little combat tech in him, if any at all.
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 40th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
Even from the door, Al could feel the heat the thing was giving off. This was going to hurt, but he couldn't let the thing blindside Solo. He raced forward, voodoo chanting for all he was worth, and - bingo - the thing spotted him and redirected its attack.
Job done - now stay alive, Al thought, remembering that the pockets of his fatigue trousers were filled with shotgun cartridges. He about did the limbo pulling his face back from the monster's first swing, and then the worst thing in the world happened - or the best.
Another one of the damned things came up out of hell to join the first (and that on top of the invisible ones Solo was clearly fighting)!!! This new one looked like the first one's girlfriend - Lord o' lightning, Al wasn't sure whether he should exorcise it or ask it for its number. He was so busy trying to catch a glimpse past some of those wreathes of flame surrounding the best bits that he almost failed to duck the boy demon's second swing, and he had to spare a tick to pat out the fire its passing paw had lit in his hair.
That was when the she-devil launched into the he-demon, right about the time Solo - with a girl's voice? - shouted out a warning to Isaint.
Isaint? Just how was he seeing Isaint out on the street? Then he noticed Nitro's car was missing. He'd been so busy for about two eternity-long seconds not getting immolated he hadn't even noticed the crazy hippy take out one of his doors.
But he was certainly noticing the mountain of asphalt and cement building itself up out of the street. He was about to rush to Isaint's rescue, but the ork had shot the thing dead before he could blink.
Hmmm - maybe these fellers he was working with tonight ...weren't ...really ...the ...need-to-get-rescued ...types...
But the he-demon was still there, and fending off the she-devil's assault handily while returning its attention to Solo.
Things were happening around him so fast he was getting a bit dizzy - and that was when Spike found the hole in the door. If he stayed anywhere near these fire monsters then that stupid dog would burn himself up tearing at them. It was already charging - too late to stop it, he had to draw it off...the water!
He raced for the dock and that was when his chants to his voodoo patrons paid off. Revelation. Inspiration. Intelligence from on high.
He congratulated himself on his wisdom in maintaining such good relationships with so many powerful benefactors.
"Spike, come," he shouted in Tamasheq as he leapt into the pilot's seat of the GMC Outrider. With his commlink on board, the proximity ignition welcomed him with open arms, and he was glad he kept her so well tuned as he slammed both feet onto the gas. The boat jerked forward about three feet, but the moorings held, and then five-hundred horsepower of screw lifted half out of the water and started spraying gallons of Thames water in the direction of the twin fire beasts.
-
M kept going, sending her rage toward the invisible water spirit. The fire spirit quite angry at M's performance rushed her and unleashed fire... with lighting reflexes M dived to the ground and rolled in quickly toward the exit of the garage placing some distance between Solo's meat body and that fire spirit. With all these fire bursts, the entire building started catching fire, heavy smoke filled the air and visibility was bad due to the heavy smoke.
"Thanks for not letting me die..." thought Solo, "we have to go back in, Al is still in there".
M had no time to answer, that water spirit used every last bit of essence it had left in retribution.
Solo could see massive waters slashing at the spirits, a passenger in his own body, ofcourse... water - dashing the fire spirit is a suicide, it was so hot Solo was not sure it matter if that demon hit him - or if he hit the demon. M's strategy seemed to be to focus on what did not damage Solo's wetware.
-
As Al's moment of inspiration strikes and he puts his plan into motion, Goodnight feels a frission of fear that wasn't her own, followed by a spike of pure terror. Her head whips around to face toward the still-raging battle and the back of her neck prickles as she realizes that her extremely powerful demonic fire spirit is the source of the sudden terror, and when she takes lets the spirit's senses slide over her own she screams along with the spirit as water begins to spray.
Go! She cries astrally. I release you from all your services! Astral communication is a strange thing at the best of times, carrying its own versions of body language, tone, and inflection, and with Goodnight's incredible emotive capacity and how deep her feelings run, she knows that the spirit understands that it is being released because she wants to spare it the agony of being caught in the spray. She knows that exposure won't kill the spirit, but her time with Flower and her own understanding of magic causes her to think of spirits as people, and so she gives up what aid it might render to save it from excruciating pain.
In the garage, the fire spirit's otherworldly shriek cuts off in a roar and swirl of flames, leaving only a few wisps of steam to mark her passing as she vanishes, the spray only just missing her as she flees back to the metaplanes from whence she came. As she goes, there is a flash of surprise and gratitude in Goodnight's mind, gone as quickly as it arrived, and when her lips curl up again as her breathing steadies, the smile is a little more natural.
-
It was a bit of a trick, keeping the beast of a boat at just the right vertical angle. He had to ease the throttle back and forth slightly, like riding a bike, only up and down. But mostly he just kept it near the floor, and watched with satisfaction (and a little disappointment) as his move immediately killed the she-demon.
He was trying to decide which point to congratulate himself on first, when he realized that his beloved shop was going up in flames all around them. And the remaining he-devil was really putting the pressure on Solo now. He couldn't make out much, between the smoke from the fire and the steam from his spray pummeling the fire monster, but he kept up the pressure as Isaint continued to shoot the thing.
-
The water demon kept striking not letting M to get up on her feat, she rolled over missing the invisible enemy and jumped back to her feat in a move that Solo could only see in trids, he never imagined he could do that. The invisible enemy kept dodging tough, while Isaint fired another round at the fire spirit. Solo could hear its roar of anger and agony, it was angry now.
-
Angry enough to launch itself straight through the wall of water after poor ol' Al. Son of a bitch, the thing could fly!
Al pushed Spike overboard as it came, and then did a desperate dance around the boat trying not to be burned alive. The thing could see that he was trying to get into the water, and was having none of it - every time Al moved for one gunwale, the thing zipped over his head and got in his way. Back and forth - this was like exercising or something.
"Do this all day, bitch," was what Al said to the demon.
But what he was thinking was: "Dammit Isaint, shoot this thing!"
-
The Sport cars dashed out of the shop, The Frenchman's Hyunday close behind Nitro's BMW, when the eccentric rigger quickly changed direction and headed for where the family was running.
Good, he was glad to see that the new arrival was taking his protection job seriously. The Frenchman had something else in mind. For him, Spirits meant a Summoner was nearby, and by the amount of killers they saw a few hours ago, he knew the summoner was not going to be alone. With the shop so close to the Thames, the entrance points to the docks where limited. He and Hallucination will have to cover the opposite side to where the Family was headed.
Hal, if your name is synonym to your skills, can you make the illusion of the Doc being in the back seat? If we cross path with what I expect to arrive at us, we can probably catch the attention to a few and keep them away from the main target.
-
The fire spirit, furious from being wet burned its way outside of the dock. It was hovering over the port, trapping Al and the boat inside the burning dock. "Burn!" it cried as it unleashed its fiery energy on the boat. Trying to burn Al, the dog and pretty much everything he could get his hands on.
[spoiler]
By this time now, I imagine that Al feels pretty much trapped fire spirit on one side and a burning building on the other.
Frenchman and smiley - I will let you have a swing at the fire spirit if you want as it now hover over the building to make sure Al burns.
Everyone else we need more initiative.
[/spoiler]
-
"Haha, yes Al give the bastard a shower." With wholly inapropriate glee Isaint watched as the fire spirit got hosed. A positive side effect was that now the fire spirit was severely limping and a lot less mobile.
Isaint pumped again a series of shots into the creature. It was not enough to take it out, but at least it ripped a good chunk of essence from its body.
[spoiler]
Ini Round 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/311402): 15+4d6 31
Yes! Sweet, sweet fourth ini phase ;D
Ini 31
Free Action: Eject Clip
Simple Action: Reload
Simple Action: Agility boost Agility Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/311403): 7d6t5 3
Drain from last boost: 1
Drain resist (http://orokos.com/roll/311404): 10d6t5 3
no drain
Ini 21
Bulls Eye Burst
Agi 8 + Skill 8 +1 Smartlink -4 Called Shot
Bulls Eye Burst (http://orokos.com/roll/311405): 13d6t5 5 [13d6t5=2, 6, 4, 1, 3, 6, 3, 6, 1, 6, 1, 6, 4]
11 Dmg AP 13 + 5 Successes
Spirit Dodge (I'll ammend that role depending on how many others attack the spirit in the meantime)
19 -4 (Allergy) -2 (Wounds) - X (Number of attacks in the first combat round against the spirit)
Fire Spirit dodge (http://orokos.com/roll/311410): 13d6t5 3 [13d6t5=2, 4, 3, 5, 6, 2, 2, 3, 2, 2, 4, 1, 6]
Damage 13P AP 13 (one more attack before mine and it's Dmg 14
Spirit Soak: 2 auto success + 12 dice
Fire Spirit soak (http://orokos.com/roll/311412): 12d6t5 2
9 dmg => Spirit disrupted
Obsolete after Kinkerbells mana beatdown ;D
[/spoiler]
His ammo counter alerted him to the fact, that he had only one bullet left. Considering how strong this things defenses were, a single bullet wouldn't do much. With a mental command he ejected the magazine and with a long practiced, fluid movement inserted the next. A short prayer to the saints filled him again with power, steadying his hands.
All the while he followed what happened and how the spirit tried to burn down the building.
Time to end this
"Hey Zippo, hier spielt die Musik!"
-
Goodnight's smile disappears again as the fire spirit rises up and roars in rage and pain. It hangs in the air like a small, enraged false sun, and Goodnight's world seems to slow down. She doesn't like harming spirits, tries to treat them as equals or at least people as often as she could and spare them what pain she might, and to fire upon it with her talent in anger is something she does not relish.
But this one and its companions are bound to a mage that obviously has no such reservations. This spirit is in agony, it had to be after getting showered by that maniac with his boat, and Goodnight's resolve firms as she realizes that a transitory pain followed by blissful freedom is the best thing she can offer the enchained being.
Goodnight's hand lightnings down to her hip, where she keeps several mesh pouches full of the tools of her grim and arcane trade, parceled out just for moments like this. It comes up again, and her fingers flick the little bag into the air, the silver mesh glinting in the light as it leaves her hand. A whispered word and a surge of will start the spell, and an red-purple spark jumps from her fingertips, a twisting ribbon of power hardly wider than a needle that the spirit would barely notice were it thrown directly.
But it isn't direct. The filament of energy passes through the bag first and the mesh disintegrates, burned away by the power of her spell and freeing the drams within. Twelve small, bright bits of metal, silver needles she'd pried from a torture victim in Widow's Way and worked into small, hollow spheres tumble out, falling into a pattern dictated by her mana. The spell dances from one to the next, sketching a circle in the air amongst six points before rushing inward, creating a flowing, hexagrammatic construct in the air for an eyeblink before the spell rushes free, blowing the little spheres of metal into molten droplets that spatter the pavement at her feet.
The manabolt, now tinged an eye-searing fuschia nearly as bright as the spirit itself lashes out like the whip of a vengeful god and Goodnight can feel the backlash in her bones as the magical attack blasts the fire spirit. Totally unprepared, wounded, and unfocused, the blast overwhelms it completely, shredding its physical form and scattering the mana that composed it like leaves in a storm.
-
Before Isaint could unleash his barrage, he saw from the corner of his eyes how a storm of glowing objects hurtled over him and into the form of the fire spirit.
That left Solo and his martial arts dance with the water spirit. It was frustrating to be only able to watch, if only...
<<Solo, feint left and jump backwards to the burning barrel, the water spirit will hesitate to follow.>>
But before he could execute the send command, Solo already finished the small water sprite with a swift and very impressive manouvre.
[spoiler]
Ini 21
Leadership: Direct check
Leadership: Direct (http://orokos.com/roll/311456): 5d6t5 0
Spending Edge to add dice
Leadership: Direct Edge (http://orokos.com/roll/311458): 5d6t5 [5d6t5=6, 6, 5, 2, 2]
Leadership: Direct Edge Explosion (http://orokos.com/roll/311459): 2d6t5 1
Solo gains +1 Limit and +4 dice to his next attack
Just saw in the OOC that Solo has taken out the water spirit. No need for directions anymore
[/spoiler]
Isaint slowly turned around his own axis to scan for any other threats. None were visible if you didn't count the powerful aura of that one very beautiful woman that was still connected to that fire spirit toasting mana barrage. Solo seemed to have two souls inside his body - that at least explained why he had fought like possessed - but it seemed to be symbiotic.
With a small effort of will he closed his third eye again, so he could perceive the mundane world more clearly.
While he walked over to Al to give the fellow adept a hand getting back on dry land, he called out to the new-comer:
"Oy, your timely interference is appreciated, but I hope you are the promised reinforcement from Torrent."
When he had Al back on the ground he offered him a High Five: "You really know how to turn a hot party into a steamy affair."
#78
-
Al had to stand on his tiptoes, but his burn-scarred hand slapped Isaint's with gusto.
His shop was burning down all around them. A fiery rafter dropped to the floor not three meters away. But the little man was grinning. "Heh, that were one hell of a scrap. amigo. Now, if'n you'll pardon me, lots ta do, an' gittin' mighty hot in here.
Where to start? After the spirit gave up trying to catch the nimble Al in its grasp, it had burned an hole in the wall to take up a position away from the water spray and started shooting fire bolts at him. That had been the last straw, and Al had hit the drink, joining his dog in the water. He had just been switching to internal air when, looking up through the water's surface, he'd seen the spirit break apart like a Fourth of July firework.
No idea how that had happened, but he'd realized a while ago that if you tried understanding everything that happened in this business, you'd drive yourself crazy. And of course Al wasn't crazy.
Isaint's hand had reached down for him, and he'd gladly accepted it, since climbing out on his own would have been tricky with his huge damned dog clinging like a soaked baby to his back, and whining about as loudly. At least the stinky beast has finally had a bath. Once they were back on the dock, the way that animal shook the water off, Al thought maybe he'd put the damned fire out.
First thing, he checked the seals on the satchels for his medkit and bomb bag. No problem, and his commlink was rated for a lot deeper than he'd just been. But his cigarettes - now he was angry.
The smoke was thick in the burning building, so he stayed on internal air. Hell, he'd have hightailed it out right then, but he knew if he overstayed and got trapped he could always go back into the water.
He activated the jacks holding his Bulldog aloft, but they were jammed somehow. Shit. He climbed up, and spent thirty seconds removing his morph plates and spoof chip, then tossed down a couple of bags of tools. It was getting real hot now, but the lining in his jacket made all the difference, and it didn't hurt that he was soaking wet. Loaded it all into the trunk of the Elite and told its autopilot to make its way over to Horace's place.
He cast off the moorings on his boat, then took the fire extinguisher to a couple of small fires that had started on the deck and in the seating. Thanks to the spirit, no need to open the water door. He called out to Isaint and Solo, "By land or by sea, compadres, your call," and started nudging the boat out through the debris, headed for the storm drain they were supposed to be meeting at.
-
Thanks... Said M to Isaint in her beautiful soft feminine voice. I am M... I am around until morning. she helped Al out from the water and helped save some of his possessions. "I am sorry for your shop... you seemed to care for it great much."
"I totally saved you soft parts... you owe me one", she thought at Solo.
"Indeed you did... feel free to stay in charge for a while I am still overwhelmed by what just happened."
The building was in flames beyond savings, the fire just picked up but perhaps there was an upside... it felt like a good time to disappear from the grid again. Going underground never seemed like a better idea.
Solo used his DNI to contact Isaint >> Thanks buddy... I am taking the back seat for a little bit. Be kind to my ahm... my special friend. She really shown a lot more commitment to our safety than you would expect from spirits.
When M met Goodnight she introduced herself "I am M... I'll be around for the next hour or so, before I go with quite usual experiences back home. You are a good person for preventing unnecessary pain form your spirit. It is an honor to meet you... Also you are quite stunning I must add... Perhaps when I am in a more appropriate form I could show you some gratitude... " She said.
"So my form is inappropriate for you?" teased Solo.
Lets say that I am the attractive one in this relationship... she sort of mentally giggled at him.
-
"We make all kinds of new friends today." Isaint grinned and coughed. Quickly he dug out the mask with the respirator. The fire was only a mild concern: His coat had a heat and fire resistant lining - standard equipment for everybody following a dragon slayer like St. George. He replied to the possessing spirit: "Pleasure to meet you. Always nice to have a guardian angel with you on a run."
As Al began gathering his things, he remembered that his bike was also still here. Consequently he answered Al's question with a shrug and a: "This baby doesn't swim well, so land it is."
He drove the bike just outside where the unearthly beautiful sorcerers stood. Isaint wasn't an especially skilled reader of people, but he had the distinct impression, that she was not terribly well disposed towards him.
What could he have done...
Well, she definitely wasn't an ex-girl friend - that at least he would remember... probably.
Had he met her before? Nope - at least not face to face and anyway: He changed his face pretty regularly. So it had to be something that he had done during the short time they had contact.
He drew a blank.
He always had had a weakness for beautiful women, but he had never ever understood their motives or thought processes.
So instead he lifted the mask again and extended his hand to her:
"Hi, I am called Isaint. Am I correct in assuming, that that second fire spirit was your doing?"
#79
-
M answers Isaint...
Angles are boring they follow their stupid rules. I have no rules... just looking for a fun ride. Where are we running? I can't wait to spank that mage that ambushed you.
He is a real jerk to use his spirits like that... cannon fodder for mortal whims, I wish I could give him a taste of his own medicine. You meta-humans are short sighted... you never understand the consequences of your actions... no offense tough, this is what I love about you guys.
-
Goodnight watched her comrades-of-the-moment approach, turning her form and face away from the family just exiting on shaky legs from the sleek german sports car to do it. Her astral senses twigged for a moment as the one, the fast one with the unusual success against spirits approached and spoke in a voice that seemed unusually soft and feminine. Her perception slid into the astral for a brief second, and she kept her eyebrows from twitching only because she was already on guard against showing these people any part of herself that was not entirely necessary.
Dipping a brief curtsy with invisible skirts, her don't-hurt-me smile became more of a come-hither smirk and she replied to M, "A pleasure, milady. As for my spirits, I only seek to do as right by them as I can, in return for the many favors they have granted me. One of your kind taught me that." She inclined her head. "You may call me Goodnight." She was about to ask what her relationship was with the man whose body she was possessing when Isaint drew up on his bike, his expression as guarded as her own. Isaint reached out a hand...
...and Goodnight flinched. It was a quick thing and not terribly obvious, but her instincts all cried out for her to twist as far away from the ork's hand as she could. Her pretty, vaguely vapid smile came back, unthreatening and meaningless and it settled over her features like a suit of armor as she turned the flinch into a raising of her hand, brushing back a stray lock of hair before letting him encase her fingers in his own for a half second.
He looked so much like Grigori...
To Isaint she replied in her throaty, perfectly-pitched voice, "Oui, m'sieur. The burning lady was mine." She glanced him up and down and managed to keep any irony out of her voice- though it was a struggle- as she said, "My compliments on your own skill against spirits." She paused for a second and then glanced at his motorcycle. "Tell me, does that have a programmable autopilot?"
Turning back to look at the spirit riding her summoner once more, Goodnight commented, "Perhaps something can be worked to satisfy your debt of gratitude and my sense of curiosity. But before anything else, I would ask your name, or at least your name amongst the mortals."
-
Isaint nodded to Solo: "Maybe. This time they didn't risk loosing irreplaceable assets. I don't enjoy hurting sentient beings, but as long as I breath I'll do my damned best to keep those under my protection safe. And it seems we'll have to deal with the root of this problem sooner than later or the threat will never end. So if you could find those responsible, I'd appreciate it very much and will do what I can to make your wish come true."
Goodnights flinch was unexpected. Until he remembered that he had grown a pretty wild beard over night. He probably looked like St. Nicolaus' younger brother.
The compliment he took in stride with a smile: "Thanks, I try to keep up", while he nodded toward Solo and Al.
At the question regarding his ride he quizzically rose his eyebrows: "I sure hope so, otherwise I must have been really lucky so far.
But before we go on, we should regroup with the rest of the team and get underground. God knows how big this ritual summoner circle is and how many more spirit servants they can send to us."
#80
-
M nods, "my name is Melisa Green, but you can call me M... Nice to meet you Goodnight... it is too bad that you run the shadows, you could have been a good person... you have the capacity it shows."
To Isaint: Quite a protection that is... I was not present during the previous time but from Solo's emotions it did not go up so well. I wouldn't jump to conclusion that these are the same people. Oh I will find those responsible - but you have to understand that I sense time very differently. By the time I do you may no longer care
-
Goodnight shoots Isaint an acid look. "I am well aware that our time is short." she says, her soft franco-italian tones giving way to a strange admixture of aristocratic british and clipped irish accents. It sounds as though she learned her elocution from a book rather than experience. "Pleasantries aside then, I ask about your bike because I am retained to take you into London Below, and unless you chain yourself to that lovely machine, its going to disappear the first time you turn around for more than an eyeblink." She shrugs, the motion doing fascinating things to her throat, shoulders, and chest. "That is, of course, your prerogative. I am sure I have a spare set of handcuffs if you wish to attempt bringing it with you. But there are also vast swathes of the underground through which a wheeled vehicle will not travel well, and the noise it makes would draw undo attention.
Goodnight pulls out a white silk fan with silver boning and flips it open, and one side lights up. Electronic paper? The fan is clearly a nonstandard-form commlink, and she manipulates it to show the ork a map, centered on Soho. "If you send your bike here, you have my word that it will be safe. I have a doss with a garage at that address. You and your teammates may store their vehicles there until we find them more suitable accomodations.
Turning her purple-glowing eyes on Melisa, Goodnight says, "I run the shadows because I am a good person." She says a trifle sharply. Even with her irritation at being talked down to by the spirit, her tones are not as clipped and upset as they were when talking to Isaint, and her expression shows more life once she isn't facing the ork. "Perhaps a little time in my company will show you that."
-
To goodnight: Well... I am almost finished here... So I won't have the chance, but you do not have to convince me of anything. I was surprised you'd come to the city, especially underground where the environment is not ideal to say the least. I do not often see your kind in urban areas.
-
Goodnight shrugs again, diffidently. "I fought off symbiosis as long as I can, searching for my place." Her lips quirk up in a small smile. "It was actually a free spirit that helped me find a place to settle, underground. There is so much life there, for those who know where to look." Her voice is wistful, and almost reverent. She shakes herself and gazes at M. "You could stay, you know, or at least make certain there is always a way for you to come back here. I am familiar with the process of making pacts with the otherworlds. I could...officiate, if you would like to codify your relationship with your current host."
Then Goodnight shakes her had and says, "I am sorry. It is not my place. I am merely trying to make myself useful. A bad habit, sometimes." She nods at M. "If you depart before we speak again, then be well, Melisa." She turns to look at Isaint, waiting for his response to her suggestion and her eyes become hooded once more, her mask slipping back into place without her even noticing.
-
M say to Goodnight "How fascinating... I come to Solo when I want to. I kind of enjoy this freedom. I sense this world in a similar way than how you sense a dream. It is difficult to take it very seriously... But do tell me... what happened with this free spirit friend of yours... he seems significant in your life?"
"An erotic dream in your case" Thought Solo.
"Yes... you are right I find this world very erotic... but you did not appreciate my experiences with the dreaded guy." thought M at Solo.
-
What remained of the structure of Al's building collapsed in a huge conflagration of sparks in his wake just as he pulled the Outrider into the stream of the inlet.
And then the fuel tanks of the Bulldog ruptured, sending a small bubble of orange-black petroleum heat skyward.
Al congratulated himself on the way he had personally ensured everyone's survival. Not least his own.
He guided the boat up the short distance to where the team was meeting. On the way he spoke two quick texts.
The first: <<Horace, got a slick Toyota Elite headed your way. Strip its markers for me an' keep 'er out of sight for twenny-four, an' I'll owe ya.>>
Whether by ill fortune, amateur idiocy, or malevolent design, Art's incompetence had cost him his van and his shop. He was keeping the car.
The second: <<Chastity, I'll still be needin' that van, but not at my place. Cuz there ain't no more my place. I'll send ya a where later."
He brought the boat up alongside the ferrocrete jetty that abutted the sewage main that the drain they'd been directed to was a part of. He hoped it wasn't active anymore, being apparently an entrance to the Kingdom of the Crazies. But then, he had no idea what sort of personal standards its denizens held to, and his expectations weren't high.
But a job was a job, and they still had to keep the family safe until he could get the Doc and the team to sign off and then broker a deal with Fairy Twinkle Dragon.
Spike hopped out first. Al told the GMC's autopilot to hold position in the inlet for two hours, then return to its berth. The fire would be out by then - he could hear the sirens already - and it was still his place.
Then he tossed his bags onto the jetty, and hauled himself up after them. The water-heavy clothes didn't make it easy. The first thing he saw was Nitro's ride disgorging their charges - by the looks on those four faces he wasn't sure how much more of this they could take.
Then he stood there taking in the guide. Taking all of her in. Probably a second or two too long to be cool.
She was snow with fuschia highlights. But looked more pure. But he could tell she wasn't.
He was a drowned rat in brown leather. He looked tired. But then he always did.
He took the soaked pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and threw them into the river. "They got smokes down there?"
-
Isaint just shrugged, got off his bike and made some shooing motions while mentally instructing the autopilot and gyro stabilizers to take over.
"I'm neither married to my ride, nor wasteful enough to risk it. I just hope our new rigger will see it likewise."
He shouldered his rifle once more and took a step back: "I sure hope this hiding place is worth the trouble - it's no use to us if the denizens are cutthroat enough to go after the family we are trying to protect."
Isaint nodded to Al: "Al that is Goodnight, Goodnight that is Al." Turning away towards the entrance he whispered to Al "Good luck."
-
Isaint was headed straight in, and that was a good idea - they needed to get everyone out of sight and no time to waste.
He held back, though, planning to take up the rear. No one snuck up on Spike.
He tipped an invisible hat at the white hottie and hefted his kit, ready to move once everyone else was in.
-
Without looking, Goodnight tells Isaint, "You don't want to do that." Unzipping her SecondSkin a double handspan, she reaches into it and pulls out a slim case. Flipping it open reveals a flat-profile lighter and a half-dozen cigarettes, which she proffers and responds, "Yes, oh swimmer in the Thames, but you wouldn't like what they fill them with. Cigarettes from Above make good barter in some parts of Below that are off the beaten track."
Turning her head to look at Isaint over her shoulder she says, "I've been retained to be your guide below. Before you go charging into a dark world about which you know nothing, you might want to take a moment to consider why you need a guide at all, then rethink your course of action." She smiles coldly. "Or not. If you wish to try and deal with the Tolltakers on your own, be my guest. But you are not a local, and they will exact a heavy price. You are skilled, but you are only one man. Don't go making enemies in the first five hundred meters."
Fixing her gaze on Melisa, she smiles nervously and her snow-white cheeks color hotly. "She is a free plant spirit. We just call her Girl Flower." Her voice warms, becoming something almost normal. "She helped me when no one else would, taught me a little of her craft and a lot of her world. We became close." She giggles and gestures at herself. "My apologies for blushing like a schoolgirl. Flower has that effect on me. She's an odd duck, our lightless blossom, but a sweet and kind one." She doesn't mention that she first met Flower by watching her hex a ganger to death, forcing poisonous blooms to grow from every opening in his body, no matter how small. She'd turned him into a topiary hedge, and then picked the bright blooms as she introduced herself to a younger and much less jaded Goodnight.
"Girl Flower is one of Below's most colorful personalities, and she is my best friend and occasionally...other things." Goodnight's blush deepens and she giggles girlishly. "You'll meet her soon enough." She promises. Her smile drops away as she turns to Al once more. "A pleasure to meet you, Al, I'm sure. It was you with the boat, then?"
-
Offered cigarettes, Al quickly pulled his eyes away from the unzipped flesh and helped himself to two, putting one behind his ear. "Much obliged, ma'am," he said, declining the proferred light. His Zippo was already - somehow - in his deformed hand, and wet or dry, she never failed to light on the first strike.
He listened with impatient interest as the surreal beauty hinted about the dangers of the Kingdom, and then talked about unnatural congregations with inhuman deceivers.
This was one worse than Daddy and Hallucination put together, he reckoned, and he knew he'd have to watch her. But then, that wouldn't be much of a chore.
He was about to suggest they talk less and move more, when she returned her attention to him.
"Heh, you saw that?" He didn't know how she had, but he found himself delighted that she'd seen his 007 moment. He tried, he really tried to be modest. "That warn't nothin', jist I got a choice between fightin' smart an' fightin' mean, reckon I'll choose both."
-
"I'm all for following you as our guide. Especially now that we are standing not 100 m from a burning building with rapidly approaching fire brigade and police units. All things considered, I'd like to be not out in the open when they arrive."
Isaint reset his mask, donned the helmet as well as the forearm guards and the other parts. He slid his coat back on and changed the color scheme to that of a London City worker.
-
Goodnight nods. "I did. Your quick thinking and ingenuity are impressive, sir." Her smile thins. "The female spirit was mine, you see." She turns to face Al fully and her eyes narrow. "Do you have any idea how much water hurts a spirit of fire? She was trying to protect you and your companions the only way she knew how, and you nearly put her in unimaginable agony!"
Goodnight ignores Isaint for a second, not even twitching. Then, without taking her eyes off of Al she says, "This is the docklands and shots were fired. They will come late, and come in force. We have a few minutes while they marshal the troops."
-
Al grinned and, leaving the elf girl's cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, raised both hands in a double peace sign. "Peace baby - ya had me at 'impressive'."
He started to think about whether there was time to run to the off-license for a six-pack before they made the descent into crazy, but then realized she was being serious.
"Listen, toots, course I know it hurts the sons o' bitches - that's why I done it. But ol' Al's real sorry if'n it was your conjuration got stung. Things was happenin' kinda fast in there. Maybe next time ya wanna drop a fire demon unannounced into a fracas like that, ya work on yer imagery some. Jist thinkin' out loud here, but maybe, oh, a flamin' Easter Bunny, instead of, you know, a horned, winged devil comin' up from hell. Might send a different message."
-
Goodnight doesn't quite snarl as she replies, "I do not choose their forms. I am not some puppeteer!" Her eyes flash, and the glow around their edges becomes the same fuschia as her manabolt had been, her natural luminescense overwhelming the colored contacts. "They are people!" she half-roars. "Fighting them is one thing, banishing them another, but what you did is torture to them!"
Goodnight steps back and takes a deep breath, shaking her head. "Where they come from and what they look like is their choice, not mine. I am only what talent and tradition and time have made me." She meets Al's gaze for a long moment, then sighs. "What is done is done, and I suppose that I cannot blame you in the heat of the moment. But next time, think about whether you would do something similar to a person. Spraying bio-acid on an enemy is far different than shooting them in the head, and with a fire spirit, what you did is much the same thing."
-
Clearly a hippy.
But they needed to get under cover. He figured he'd just let her keep living in her own special world, and was warming up his best live-and-let-live smile when she started in about the acid.
And for the second time in the last ten minutes he thought of that day over three decades ago. Had her witch powers seen something?
He held up his two hands, bone-white and so burnt they looked like they were covered from fingertips to forearms in freshly melted candle wax. "Talk ta ol' Al 'bout acid when ya know somethin' 'bout acid, sister. This here's what one o' yer people done ta me." He thought of his dogs, but he wouldn't mention them to her. They were sacred. "But no, they weren't no acid onna table today. Naw, they was jist tryin' ta burn us alive. But o' course it were the humane sort o' burnin' alive, not the torture kind." He shook his head. "This ain't some sorta game, chica. Ya fight, ya fight ta win. Or ya die an' ya die ugly." He gestured toward the four terrified citizens with a shake of his head. "Or they do."
-
The monowhip would take his head clean off. Just one flick, and he'd have just enough time to get another stupidly superior look on his face before it hit the pavement. Goodnight brings that line of thinking up short, then considers the tools at her disposal. An agony spell, maybe? He'd survive that at least. She follows his gesture, looking at the clearly scared civilians, and her teeth are grinding in her sculpted jaw as she turns her head back toward Al.
"Spirits cannot help what they are compelled to do." She says icily, the gaelic/british creeping back into her voice. "They are bound to the whims of their masters when used as slaves, just as I am bound to stand here and take your shit and do my job and not illustrate just how little you really know." She lifts her arms and turns to her right, and her SecondSkin goes transparent from shoulder to knee. Along with a expanse of pale, lovely flesh, Al is shown a patchwork of scars, smooth and shiny, running the length of her left thigh, the thin scars forming squares in a grid pattern as long as his forearm and wide as his hand, neat lines of pain inflicted very meticulously. The pattern and age of the scars coupled with her youth implies that she got them as a teenager, if not younger.
"I may not know as much as you do about acid, but I know plenty about burning." Goodnight tells him. "You know nothing of my life, my world, or my thinking. Don't presume otherwise." Her SecondSkin becomes opaque as she turns to face Al once more. "I am well aware of the stakes. Possibly better than you, in fact. We're stressed, things got ugly, and we're on a clock. I will do my job and trust you to do yours. But keep pushing me and I'll show you a thing or two about dying ugly, do you understand?"
-
Al's sarcastic scowl gave way to his huge, wolfish grin, a trail of smoke wafting up from the cigarette clenched dead-center in his mouth between yellow teeth.
Part of the grin was his delight at the this flower-child's clothes disappearing. He preferred his women with round ears, but this one was real easy to look at.
And part of his grin was at the thought of getting into a biggest-scar competition with her, because he'd just gotten started in that department.
But face-saving death threat aside, he could see she was offering an olive branch, if only out of professionalism. And she was damned right about the clock ticking.
"Alrighty then, milady, lead on."
-
While his companions engaged in their little tit-for-tat, Smiley made sure the family wasn't distracted or upset by their posturing, and got them just out of sight into the storm drain.
"Don't worry folks, we are headed for the Underplex, we are just going to be getting there by the back door and we need the pretty lady, because she has the key." Smiley said looking each in the eye and making sure they were calm and focused.
"Things may get a little snug and a lot dark, so make sure each of you buddies up with one of us, Little Man, you are with me." Smiley looks to his companions to volunteer before he start picking buddies.
-
Goodnight turns away from Al, evidently satisfied. She's not, she's furious, but intellectually she knows that their differing viewpoints are products of culture as much as personality.
There will be time to work on that later.
Stepping inside the sewer pipe, Goodnight comes up to stand next to Smiley and nods at the other 'runner. "Good idea, pairing up." She tells him. She turns toward the family, glancing over the three. "Doctor, I'm afraid you're the primary target in all likelihood, so you should probably be paired off with someone a little less frail than I." She looks at Smiley and murmurs, "What about the ork with the hard-on for APDS? He seems hard enough." She quirks an eyebrow, then lets Smiley think about it as she turns back to the family, her eyes resting on the girl. The shooter ork seems solid enough, if a little arrogant, but she doesn't have a read on the other one at all, and solid isn't the same as nice. After Grinner and the Red Vory, she'll be damned if she trusts an ork around a teenage girl again.
Approaching the girl and pulling up the barebones file Erica gave her, presumably from the mysterious "Torrent," Goodnight puts on her most nonthreatening smile and asks, "Natasha, right?" At the girl's nod, Goodnight continues, "Well, ma cherie belle, I think you're with me." Her smile widens and her eyes twinkle as her SecondSkin shifts to a deep purple to match her eyes. "Don't worry, you'll be safe with us, and think of the story you'll get to tell to your friends when you get back!" She touches the girl's shoulder lightly, knowing that the chance this girl would return to her life is between slim and none, but unwilling to crush her with that knowledge. "It will just be a minute more, honey. I just want to be sure everyone is squared away before we set out."
[spoiler]Roll to Calm Natasha(Leadership) - 14d6t5: 7 (http://orokos.com/roll/311575)[/spoiler]
-
M said to Goodnight. "Al probably saved life today with that water trick, circumstances were difficult, they were all over me, and he did lose his home. He was generous to share his abode with us. Don't be like that, sparing pain is one thing but surviving is always more important." To Al "I am sorry for your loss...you are a generous person... I am M by the way.".
She looks around a little bit, and sends Solo's racing bike away, looking on the growler she asks... "This one too guide? ... I can't wait to meet the flower girl that make you blush. I bet she is quite fascinating. A dark flower, that lives underground, I bet she has a sense of humor. "
Solo thought at M, "the little flying eyes are going with us as well with the RCC and deck. The rest is really unnecessary."
-
Goodnight shakes her head at M. "Not always. Sometimes, but not always." She sighs again. "I understand that he's gone through a lot, and I don't blame him for being upset. Its not his actions that concern me, its that he undertook them without thinking. To fight to preserve one's self is a perfectly understandable motivation. But to cause incredible agony to a thinking being and not even know the consequences of those actions? [i[That[/i] I object to." She cocks her head, her opalescent fingernails tapping lightly against her thigh before she opines, "You have an unusually sympathetic view, for being a spirit yourself."
Goodnight glances at the Growler. "I'm afraid so." She says slowly. "It might actually handle parts of Below better than a street bike, but I cannot say for certain. Its up to you if you want to risk a maybe against a relatively good chance that you'll see it again." She shrugs, then blushes once more. "Flower is as bright as the day. She warms everything she touches, body and mind. She can't help it. She is a...singular creature."
-
"I've been dreaming of meta humans since I was ..." She struggles a little bit. "a little girl?... you have no words to describe it. Fire spirits dream different dreams. In my dream meta humanity triumphs - not by brute force but by creativity, originality and a little luck.
I see it differently, when your home is on fire you do what you have to do... After wearing this body and feeling the heat of that fire spirit... heat I have never felt before - not like this. After narrowly escaping its fire burst - having this entire body stretched to its limits. I can only imagine how painful being burned alive really is... I would have done so myself before I let it burn me.
Pain and horror - This is what that spirit was after. This is what conjurers make fire spirits do."
Looking on the dirt bike she say finally:
"The growler stays... speed is good for thous on the run"
-
Isaint had to concentrate really hard not to start laughing. Maybe it was the after effect of the adrenaline high or the short sleep, but right at this moment, he found the whole situation hilarious. "Hard on for APDS" was the last straw to break the back of his composure:
"Hehehahaha. Oh my sides. Lady, you really are number, let me tell you that. There seems to be a lot of misconceptions here so let me clear some of them up:
1) I whole heartily agree that spirits are people. Really. Thing is: A lot of people are utter bastards with no regard for the life of their fellow being.
2) Hurting people is part of our job, it's what we are paid for. In the course of this operation we directly killed or severely injured 15 people already, not counting collateral damage through air traffic gone bad. On our team we had three losses, even if they are only partially injury related.
3)Temporarily inconveniencing some fire spirit with the one molecule that makes over 70 percent of this whole planets surface after they did their very best to inflict even worse agony on us doesn't cost me any sleep. It choose to manifest on our plane, it very well knew the danger to that. The little water spirit was smarter in that regard.
4) Even if they acted against their free will, that doesn't mean you should not do your utter most to stop them. I love dogs, but I'll put a bullet into a rabid one without question. A CFD victim is a tragedy - but as soon they are a threat I'll electrocute them and set them on fire to prevent further spreading. And if a spirit attacks me, I'll use every weakness I can find if that's what it takes to walk away with my protege intact. Which reminds me, I'll have to order some incendiary ammunition."
He went to the Doc's side and nodded to him: "But at least in one point we are of one opinion: I'll take care of the Doc."
Again a little chuckle escaped him. "I really need to get this on a t-shirt..."
The electrochromatic surface of his coat changed again. Instead of "London municipal work" it now read "Hard on for APDS"
-
M laughs... "Did you use APDS on these people as well? Mr. Hard "
To Goodnight: "if you want to discuss a few combat tips: Always target other spirits from the astral, that way your spirits are protected from mundane weapons like water and APDS rounds.
That water spirit was brilliant! It was the weakest of all spirits but achieved 1v1 combat with the other runners unable to interfere. If the fire and earth spirits were to follow the same strategy, I am not sure I was still around.
But perhaps a fire spirit inside a building is more of a statement than an attempted murder... Perhaps their goal is to pressure you into an ambush a trap or a bad deal. "
-
Goodnight looks at Melisa for a moment, her expression melancholy,then nods. "Yes. That is what some conjurers make them do." Her voice is heavy, even guilty. "But it isn't their choice. And to avoid a fate yourself is no reason to inflict a similar horror on another one." She smiles, a little sadly. "Something to occupy your thoughts when your host is back in the driver's seat, perhaps."
She listens as Melisa addresses her about combat, then nods. "All good points, and to be perfectly honest, using my talent for conjuration in combat is still new to me, so the minutiae are something I am still learning. However," she holds up a finger, "I didn't know how many of you were magically active before I sent my spirit ahead, and it seemed to me to be the best way to announce there was a new presence on the field. I didn't know that he," she gestures at Al, "was going to figure out how to...to weaponize a boat."
Then Goodnight turns to listen to Isaint, and her expression goes from melancholy, to vapid, to neutral, and finally settles somewhere between stony and seething. "You arrogant, self-righteous, self-absorbed [i[prick![/i]" She hisses. For once, she doesn't back away. The effort is costing her something, that much is obvious, but she stands her ground. "Hurting people is [i[not[/i] our job! It is an unfortunate cost of doing business sometimes, but pain is not [i[my[/i] stock in trade!" She doesn't bother commenting that death is, in fact, her stock in trade. Instead, she rages on, "It chose nothing! It was bound, you ass! It had to follow its orders!" Her eyes narrow. "My lighting your nerves on fire with an illusion, reducing you to a twitching lump of agony, would that be an inconvenience?" She pauses for a second, then continues, "I thought not. But no, its okay because its just a spirit! We can't kill them, so let's torture them! They'll heal."
Goodnight stops to catch her breath for a moment, and her voice and face are ugly, ugly things on her pretty form. "I'm sure you would shoot a CFD victim. Never mind that they're not always dangerous, or that they need help." Her eyes narrow, and her tone goes absolutely flat as she asks, "You'd kill an infected metahuman too, wouldn't you? Because they're 'monsters.'"
-
"Lady, I distinctly remember saying: IF THEY ARE A THREAT. I don't go looking for trouble. If trouble chooses to look for me or those under my protection, I damn well will act accordingly.
If a ghoul is conscious enough to base it's diet on people dead from natural causes, he has nothing to fear from me as long as he doesn't threaten me or those under my protection."
Isaint paused before continuing:
"Oh and one other thing: You just admitted to having learned a torture spell. Doesn't it strike you as somewhat hypocritical to lecture other people on inflicting pain?"
-
M is fascinated, both of them speak but non of them understands the other. Goodnight's astral aura is bright with colors, rage passion anger and M can actually feel the emotions in her words.
Isaint on the other hand seems to have a lot less emotional energy in his words. He is doing it along and became numb to the suffering their profession causes. Perhaps it is a good quality for a runner. It is also possible that this flower girl effected Goodnight's point of view in life more than she like to admit.
M was not a fan of spirit torture, the entire conflict would have been avoided if her fire spirit stuck to astral space and then Al might have been able to take down the fire in his shop. It was clear for her that it was more than that. She just observed the two fascinated by their emotions and the shape they made in the astral.
M thinks that bounded spirits while magically bound they only have to obey the wording of the service rather than the intent. Solo asked her to save his ass, she could just as well make him run away from the scene, and fulfill her service. But she did not want to be a bitch to him, she chose to do what he intended rather than exactly what he said. When conjurers try to take that freedom from spirits and give a very well defined order - spirits feel mistrusted and with any slight change of circumstances they will manage to creatively avoid doing what the conjurer intended. Spirits are smart enough to make their services not worth the effort of the conjurer.
Combat situations gave them especially large freedom, that fire elemental could choose to fight by tossing stones at people but he chose to use his most effective powers. It tried to excel at his service and this kind of attitude shows that he approved and enjoyed it. Yet, she was intuitive enough to just take a step back and watch the two have a go at each other.
Solo used his emotional distance, M deserved some time in the pilot seat as she totally saved his butt and her behaviour was sort of reasonable. At least she wasn't the most socially awkward person in there. He used his time and tried to anticipate problems by scanning the matrix around them, trying to catch a glimpse on any suspicious, silently running icon, he had a lot of time to observe and his mind was clear he trusted M and just gave up the ability to stop her from doing something stupid.
[spoiler]
Matrix perception in hot sim (http://orokos.com/roll/311605): 18d6t5 5
[/spoiler]
-
"Do you see me using it?" Goodnight retorts hotly. "I certainly could, sure, but I have a choice. I am choosing to argue rather drive the point home. See?" Her lips draw back in a grimace. "Did I say ghoul?" She asks tightly. "I believe I said, 'infected.' I wasn't asking about ghouls. Most ghouls with intact minds have worked out their own ways to feed without becoming monsters." She shakes her head. "No one likes to be the villain of their own tale." Her gaze spears Isaint again. "I asked about infected."
Goodnight's not giving anything away by the asking, not really. Her mask is too good for that, for all that rage and frustration are hammering cracks in the facade. But the question itself is clearly important to her.
-
"Sure, you learned that particular spell only out of morbid curiosity. You never used it instead of a simple stun spell. So you are only a potential, premeditated torturer. Yeah, pull the other one...
Regarding infected: It makes no difference what expression your curse or virus takes. Act like a monster and be treated like a monster. It's as simple as that. The mere existence of those unfortunate souls is not the problem. It's when they use their powers to harm and kill others that the saints go marching in."
Isaint added:
"You don't have to believe me, but I always try to take the option of least harm. But if the enemy is too strong to be subdued, I will take him out as fast as possible. Will I cause pain? Sure, but not as an end in itself - unlike a certain spell.
We judge ourselves by our intentions, but others by their deeds...
"
-
"Oh yes. I am sure that everything you've ever learned, every fact and skill was one you set out to acquire." Goodnight says levelly. "Just like I am sure you carry no scars or unwanted memories from your growth as a person, if there was any." She looks him up and down. Its not a pretty look. It is more akin to someone sizing up how much they would have to lead a moving target. After a moment, Goodnight says, "I suppose that answers my question though, doesn't it? Infected, vampires and banshees and harvesters and the rest must prey on the living to survive. According to you, that makes them 'threats,' and you would put them down accordingly. Their feelings on the matter don't even enter into it, do they?"
-
Nitro had spent his time organizing his thoughts and plans, his sensors feeding him the rather fascinating conversation going on. His decisions made and the family dropped off he needed to make the trip into the Underworld. He didn't know too much about it, but he knew a little, he decided taking a little extra firepower might be worth the risks. All this takes only seconds to sort through before he disengages from his motorized body...
... and takes a breast, riding the slow-wave of his brain processing information at a more normal speed, his cybernetically enhanced eyes and ears feeding him data much like the sensors of his car or drones would rather than the natural organic originals.He sends a command to open the boot before unplugging himself, the cable retracting with a faint whirr while he works the buckles of the racing harness.
Opening the door he step out as a loud whirring sound comes from the back of the car, one of the Bumblebee's carefully lifting off from the storage. He closes the door before walking around to the boot. Reaching to the underside of the lid he roved what looks like a serious milspec assault shotgun and slaps an ammo drum into place, the weapon cycling into ready via mental command.
He offers a grin to their guide, his hair once again rippling blue nitro flames, his coat even matching the flickering display as he puts the agent in charge of getting the car and other combat drone back to his place. "Wull now if you ainna lovely sight fer sore eyes." he offer a mock bow as the car back up and smoothly drives away. "Name's Nitro, an since ya seem ta 'ave 'elped save or bacon from getting grilled back there lemmie welcome ye to our merrily li'lle clusterfuck we got goin' on 'ere."
He pauses to take a look over Goodnight with his 'real' eyes, the irises even matching the blue flame lightshow he's putting on, with another grin he jerks a thumb back to the armored gundrone following him. "'ope ye dun mind me little friend 'ere... I dunno the Unnergroun' like ye o'viously do, but I be knowin enough te know how dagerus 'tis, an well... since they be bringin' me abboar' fer a driver annow sendin' me unnergroun' I figure i' bessta 'ave a li'lle somthin Ikin do well eh?"
With that done he starts pacing around, clearly restless to get moving again.
-
Isaint sighed audibly: "Ok, fine. You learned that spell in your torture-goth phase and you are over it. No skin of my nose, I'm not your daddy and this is totally your decision and life.
I actually don't care all that much. As long as you are on the team and shooting out and not the other way round...
Should we be assaulted by another Captain Planet all star team feel free to banish them without hurting their feelings, as long as you do it quickly."
He drew in a deep breath:
"Even Vampires have a choice on the matter. Their lives do not rate any higher than that of their victims.
I don't judge them - I pray to god that I'd have the strength to put a bullet in my brain before I'd kill and eat someone as a demonic cannibal.
But I sure as hell won't enable them to spread the infection, murder innocents or enjoy their powers on the expense of their fellow people.
Being infected doesn't turn you into a tragic hero - it makes you an infection risk.
I'd have to lie if I said I was never on a hunt. But the weeping mother sure did not complain when we made sure that no other children would have to serve as the monsters snack or amusement.
So no, their FUCKING FEELINGS are of NO FUCKING CONCERN whatsoever if they behave like FUCKING MONSTERS!"
Isaint looked up somewhat irritated at their new rigger and stopped.
Calm down, there is something about that girl that rattles you. Doesn't help that she found your pressure points like a fucking master of Dim Mak.
He cleared his throat someone laborious before he answered Nitro a lot calmer:
"Yeah, your backup is appreciated Nitro."
To Goodnight he said:
"As much as I enjoy this conversation, we can do it while we walk and maybe even subvocal."
-
"Errr... get a room you two..." Said M with a flirty voice. I want to meet flower girl before sun dawn... So lets talk while walking" Said M to Goodnight. "Can we make it Goodnight?" she added.
She hoped to diffuse some of the tension by shifting the conversation to something more pleasant than infected and who got the moral high ground... Meta-humans seemed to take this world rather seriously. M never understood why...
Actually she sort of did but she never told anyone. Melissa Green was the name of the first person to summon her. M resisted so much that she killed her. However, killing her summoner changed M, it made her feel something she never felt before, guilt. She decided to take her name and watch over Melissa's decedents. Some how she felt responsible for her little children.
She was a little spirit then and it was when magic levels were a lot lower. Just existing in the astral of that world caused her tremendous pain. Her debit was almost complete and M still haven't decided if she liked this world. Solo was the last living relative and with his line of work he wasn't going to grow older and start a family. Trying to cut her train of thoughts she comment on Nitro's bumble-bee drone.
"that's some impressive mechanical beast you got there."
-
Isaint only gets the words out to Nitro and his last line to Goodnight because Goodnight is so angry that for a few seconds all she can do is stand and shake in impotent, blazing fury. His whole view on the infected- those that had to feed on blood at least- that they could either kill themselves or let themselves be killed, that survival made them monsters no matter how they managed it or whatever good they did...it is too much for Goodnight.
She hits him, right as he begins to turn away.
She doesn't trigger her shock gloves or put any magic behind the blow, and she's a small girl, but a wiry one and she's learned how to gether hips and shoulders into a blow. The backhanded slap is a good one, catching him right across the line of his jaw and in the wake of it, Goodnight's eyes are glowing, the purple contacts subsumed by an angry light the color of poisonous fruits.
"You bigoted, moralizing son of a bitch." Goodnight says. Her voice is curiously even, no screaming or crying or wringing of hands to be found. She could be a computer for all the inflection she's showing. "You would throw aside an entire life for one condition they cannot control, condemn them to die at the hands of black-and-white crusaders like yourself. Nevermind that they may feed on people that the world would be better off without, or that they can feed without killing if they find someone willing to offer themselves again and again." She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter what good they might do. Even Red Lang and Martin de Vries, good people both, good shadowrunners, would be nothing more than their infections to you." Her eyes dim as she gains control of herself. "You're no better than the Humanis scum that tried to wipe your kindred off the face of the earth when Goblinization was new. You disgust me."
She turns away before he can reply. Privately, she's really hoping he takes a swing at her in earnest. It would feel really, really good to clean his clock.
To the rigger with the slick ride, she bows deeply, her still-unzipped suit giving him an eyeful before she straightens. The angry expression is gone, and she dimples cutely as she takes him in. If he expects her to be upset by the flaming motif, he's going to be disappointed. The look suits him, making him more than slightly reminiscent of an old villain in a children's flatvid she saw about greek mythology once. Her voice is its warm, lovely self once more as she offers a hand to be shaken or kissed as he likes. "Goodnight, dear Nitro. Charmed to make your...singular acquaintance." She jerks her head to indicate Isaint. "My apologies for forcing you to watch that. He stumbled on a few of my more...personal issues."
Goodnight glances over the drones, then the weapons, and shrugs expansively, her grin turning a little wicked as she slowly zips her suit back up. "I don't mind. Even if I did, it isn't my place to tell you how to do your job. Frankly, I'm glad you are prepared. Wireless is going to be for drek down there in places, though, so keep in mind that you may be line-of-sight only. I'll try to warn you if we're about to hit a place like that."
She glances over at Melisa briefly and shakes her head. "If it were just us 'runners? Sure. But with civilians? I doubt it. Earl's Court is on the other side of the City, and that would be pushing too hard." Her expression turns contemplative, and then she nods. "Right now my plan is to get us as far as Hellbound Station or Shadows' Folly. The background count above both, coupled with their depth and the amount of strange drek around should hide us from Astral scrying long enough for the Doctor and his family to get some rest. We can move on to more pleasant accomodations tomorrow."
-
Isaint righted his mask. The girl did not listen and she did not want to understand. How many of the infected turned out to be noble creatures and how many became depraved monsters. Those that did good were no monsters. How was that hard to understand?
At the last outburst he just shook his head. More to himself than to anyone else he murmured:
"Says the one whose refuge is violence."
In a somewhat normal voice he said: "The first one is free, everything afterwards incurs interest."
Yeah as if. You never could hit a girl.
Resigned he took position with the Doc. While everyone sorted out their positions he used the time to take a quick peak into jack point to learn a bit more about their guide and what kind of enemy he had made now.
#87
-
"Oh... if there going to be background count I guess I am doing good for leaving... but I'll be back tomorrow or maybe next year. Time works different in my home. What is this about the infected tough? Are you involved with one of them?" asks M discreetly.
-
Isaint can't see the grim smile, but Nitro can, and Goodnight says over her shoulder, "Don't worry. I can pay if I want to slug you again." Quietly, she mutters, "And I never claimed not to be a monster. Live my life and then maybe you can judge me. Ass." She shakes her head slowly. He's probably gone to check up on her now that he's gotten the last word in. Good luck with that. She's not a well-known 'runner outside of London Below, and Goodnight wasn't always her street handle.
Turning to Melisa, Goodnight answers, "I'll be sad to see you go." Very quietly she adds, "Yes, I have dealings with the infected. Anything more than that is a little too personal, I'm afraid." She smiles apologetically. "Ask me another time. I won't discuss it, or anything else related to my personal life, in front of the high-and-mighty Isaint over there."
-
"Don't worry about it. We all have secrets this is part of what makes you a person. You feel very strongly about Isaint, I could literally see your words in the astral. Don't judge him too much, you each have your own life story with different twists and turns. This is why people are interesting.
You also never know how a person is going to act until they are in the situation. Isaint may hate the infected and have no problem to kill them, but then he sees a specific little vampire teenage girl and behave totally different than what he believes.
People get emotionally entangled where you least expect it, like you and flower girl I am sure you did not plan for it and I am sure it was not easy to bridge the difference outlooks on life. She sounds quite powerful and powerful beings are difficult, they are charismatic, sometimes too charismatic.
Isaint is a professional that will go to great troubles to keep you safe. He is strong where you are weak, and you are going someplace where you will be weaker. I will not be surprised if he take a bullet for you despite what you might feel about each other right now.
-
Jack point didn't deliver anything he hadn't gathered through the exchange in the last five minutes. Isaint kept his mouth shut and gave himself a minute to re-balance his mood. Always remember, there is nothing to gain by spreading misery. You are with a team and your mission is protection - not winning arguments. There can be no trust without trusting.
He felt his heartbeat slowing down and his muscles unclench. The saint's presence was unmistakable.
<<Susi, prepare new order to Alan: Heavy Pistol Capsule rounds: 36 Pepperpunch/DMSO, 24 white phosphor in Isopropanol, 3x IR-smoke grenade, 6x flash bang, 2x flash pak. 1x Crockett EBR+SG(X),Sling, GV3, Foregrip+P-Grip (specs on file). Usual delivery>>
That done, he once again shouldered his rifle with his backpack and opened the team channel:
<<Since it worked well on our way from Oxford and we have some more drones to play with, I'd suggest again a perimeter with traveling overwatch. Attached you find AROs with position markers. Godspeed>>
[spoiler]
Small Unit Tactics test:
Small Unit Tactics (http://orokos.com/roll/311680): 15d6t5 7 [15d6t5=4, 4, 6, 5, 1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 1, 4, 4, 6, 4, 6]
TRAVELING OVERWATCH
Successes Required: 2
Description: Similar to Bounding Overwatch, Traveling Overwatch is a preventative maneuver. It’s meant to be used when speed is essential and best intel indicates contact with an enemy is unlikely. When the team is in motion, one—or preferably two—members take a trailing position and periodically stop to carefully survey their surroundings. If the main body of the unit is attacked, the overwatch pair can respond with either long range-support or engage in a flanking maneuver. In using this tactic, a drone or spirit will either complement or replace a team member in the rear overwatch position. The drawback to this tactic is that the rear overwatch has a chance of being separated from the main group or being eliminated without the main group realizing. This is why drone and spirit use has become popular in this position. For this maneuver, the team leader is always the team member in the overwatch position.
Benefits: + 1 on all Perception Tests and + 2 to the overwatcher’s Initiative roll if combat is initiated.
[/spoiler]
#88
-
Goodnight laughs helplessly at Melisa's words and shakes her head. "Right now, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't piss down my throat if my heart was on fire. Probably make some crack about it, too." She holds her hands up. "I don't know. I don't like him, and I don't trust him, though I'm self-aware enough to know that part of my history with his kind is coloring my perceptions. He just makes me so damned mad! Ugh!"
Goodnight's perceptions shift as the scrolling text appears on her AR feed and she nods. In response, she sends back <<Good call. I have to be up front since I'm the guide. I'll keep Natasha behind me. One word of advice, don't stray too far. Overwatch is nice, and we should have someone riding drag, but some of the drek down there is fast and quiet. Too far out and we wouldn't even know you were gone at first.>>
Out loud she calls, "Alright, boots and saddles people! Let's get the good Doctor and his family down Below. We'll take this annex to an old processional called Widow's Way. If we have time, we can push as far east as Shadows' Folly, under Soho. If not, we'll kip in the Warrens for one night and go the distance tomorrow. Anyone with questions about Below, message me." Goodnight's voice has lost its anger, becoing the sharp tones of a professional doing a routine job. She pauses for a second and then comments, "Its weird down there. Any inkling of a threat, anything you see you can't explain, say something. Better safe than sorry."
An open broadcast on a short range creates a passable secondary channel to the Doctor and his family, and she writes <<We'll keep you safe, but if one of us gives you a command, you do it. Don't stop to ask questions. It could save your life. Doctor, you're with Isaint, Natasha, you're with me.>>
As Natasha draws near Goodnight says, "Hey, sweet pea. Don't worry too much. This team is novahot and they've got a good guide." She shoots Natasha an encouraging smile and adds, "You can call me Goodnight, or just 'Night if you prefer. Feel free to talk as we walk." Then she leads Natasha past the rest of the team, into the old, disused sewer access, her SecondSkin shifting back to its bright white, and her purple contacts flaring brightly enough for her elven vision to show her the way. She pauses about ten meters down the tunnel and waits. Once everyone gets going and any questions are answered, she'll lead them into the Way.
-
Nitro gins at the bow, and the display, he watches to continuing fraccas with only a shrug in response to the hard grin. He really didn't see any point getting involved in an ethical debate in the middle of a run, although with a snort he conceded the type of 'debate' these two seemed to be heading for would be entertaining to watch to say the least. "Than's fertha warnin' abou' tha wireless down 'ere. The streets are more my scene, I'll keep tha comba' routines load'd on tha drone an focus on boostin me signal strength."
He gives "M" a sidelong glance, "Well I gotsta say Solo, when ye was tellun me ye wann'ed ta learn more abou' riggin I wassin' expectin' ye ta go an' fine out what i's like fer a drone when a rigger jumps in." He offers a grin, but unlike the one shown to Goodnight earlier this one seems forced and crooked, this combined with the somewhat odd comment highlights that the flamboyant rigger has been making a deliberate effort to keep his distance from the possessed runner.
He pauses to watch the scroll of orders before outright bursting into laughter. "Ye kiddin' right? We're headdin inta onr o' the wildes' par's o London an ye wannus te be frogmarchin like sum fuckin corpsec goons? No' ta mention leavin me drone hangin' ass out ta get chewed up ifya winup missin an ambush... I dun normally take me dones allon' li'e this, that an with the wirelass as bad assit might be, I'mma keep 'er close thanyeveryfukinmuchferaskin."
He shakes his head still chuckling and strides down into the sewers, his drone following behind near the roof.
[spoiler]Reconfiguring software.
The Bumble-Bee is running Bumble-Bee Maneuvering 6 and M202 Targeting 6.
My RCC is running Virtual Machine, Signal Scrub, Armor, Biofeedback Filter and Shell. This is using up 3 of my 6 possible program slits.
Noise Reduction: Antennae 2, Vectored Signal Filter 2, Signal Scrub 2, RCC 3.
I also gain +3 to Matrix Defense and Biofeedback Resistance rolls.[/spoiler]
-
He gives "M" a sidelong glance, "Well I gotsta say Solo, when ye was tellun me ye wann'ed ta learn more abou' riggin I wassin' expectin' ye ta go an' fine out what i's like fer a drone when a rigger jumps in." He offers a grin, but unlike the one shown to Goodnight earlier this one seems forced and crooked, this combined with the somewhat odd comment highlights that the flamboyant rigger has been making a deliberate effort to keep his distance from the possessed runner.
M laughs... "He is hot simming right now... but I get to be a bit playful. So... I am a rigger in your eyes?"
Getting back to your body after about an hour of hot simming is a bit odd when your body is moving around making friends and stuff, Solo is vaguely aware to what happened until he moved to hot sim, it is a real blur since then. He can remember M's feelings and a little bit that she shared. He stumbles when dawn arrives and find himself on the floor underground in a place where he would never willingly enter, well he would because he is a professional but seriously underground? This does not look very promising to them.
He gets up a bit disoriented, his body no longer moves in supernatural grace like Frenchman or Mel, back to his own not augmented body. He feels lonely that intimate connection he shared all lost. He looks around, his equipment is there and he was riding the growler until he lost control. The bike with its gyro stabilization was just over him, it did not crush - there was no real reason to fall from the bike, just that his mind was completely unaware of what his body was doing.
He cleans his cloths, god how much he needs his hot shower right now. He dread thinking about his girlfriend Tammie and what she'll have to say about his new capability as an host to a powerful seducer spirit and he is amazed how much he trusted M. He was never this open with her and to let her just hang around in his body in the first time he channeled her... that was unthinkable. But somehow, being this close to her, sharing her mind, he was never this close to a person - no it cannot be some random spirit - it has to be M inside in his mind.
He have to bind her, but she is a difficult one to bind. She may like him - but she is a free spirit at heart. She likes her mobility between the planes, the skills to convince her to stay with him, he'll need some help he cannot do that alone. He wants her back so badly, nothing prepared him to the intensity of that moment, to dreaming of her so vividly, for waking up in a nightmare with hostile spirits, and just letting her save his ass. For giving up control, surrendering to her overwhelming personality. He just had to find a way to keep her for a longer periods of time with him.
He looks around disoriented... trying to locate something familiar. "where are we?" he finally say as he understands that the matrix reception is horrible and no - a decker never go where there is no good reception, he does not need his eyes to know that he have never been there.
-
On a single channel to Nitro, Goodnight sends, <<Baby, I don't care if you swim, tread water, or drown as far as your team's cohesion is concerned. You can stick with the pattern Isaint set up or not, but I'm not going to gainsay him out loud. If I do, we'll argue, and if we argue any more, I'm going to lose my shit. Nobody wants that.>>
Goodnight stops typing to point something out to Natasha, very quietly, then sends, <<Chain of command, who leads and who follows? That is a job for someone who is not me. I'm just the hired help. But Below is my world, not yours. Torrent is paying for my advice, and as long as I am retained to guide you, I'm going to give it. You don't have to listen, of course, but you'll get it all the same. Right now, my advice is don't get too far ahead or behind. Groups are safe in Widow's Way. Individuals are not, not always, and some of the drek down here doesn't have enough of a mind to recognize a drone. That you can riddle a dozen ghouls with holes in ten seconds isn't going to matter to them, but it might matter to you that they can scratch and infect you in five.>>
Out loud, partly in answer to Solo's half-heard question and partly just because she is a guide and information is her job right now, Goodnight calls back, "Alright everyone. We're almost up through the sewer pipe. Just a couple more turnings and we'll hit the Way proper. It runs from the Bankside Docklands all the way down through Southwark. We'll take it almost to the end, depart before we reach The Catacombs, and take a side tunnel into the Warrens through to our first port of call."
-
Nitro can't help but suppress a shudder at the comparison of the spirit, if it was actually a spirit, and a rigger. "Ehh.. yah I sure I guess.. Just'I usually dunna go jumpin' innna bodies of people te act an speak for 'em. If as eve'one 'ere be sayin ye are a spirit... jus lettinya know tha there's dreck goin' down tha be makin' some folks li'e me mighty nervous when people star' actin weird." He hefts the milspec assault shotgun for emphasis, not a threatening gesture so much as pointing out his preparedness.
Nitro to Goodnight <<Yeah I hear ya, I'm not stupid enough to go wondering off on my own. Just never seen the point in trying to play the part of those corpsec goons. Shadowruns are about acting and responding, seizing the opportunity to act, not get bogged down in BS plans that'll fall apart in seconds anyway.>>
He walks along with the group into the sewers noticing Solo acting odd again and asking what seems to be an inane question. "Huh, wecem bac' e tha lan' o tha livin Solo.. a mighte... ehh... INteres'in travlin companin ye 'ave. I warned 'er an I'll do tha same ye sense ya dun seem te know what ye's been up te... Righ now minna be the bes time te knot be actin' yesself' soes te spea' makes some folks a bit... nervous.
-
The Frenchman drove his car along the docks and up to the streets. This drek made no sense. He was expected a full HRT to show up to round up the work the Spirit had started. What was the point of just sending a Spirit, albeit powerful one, in what... a find and destroy attack? Put the target in disarray, force them to run, and catch them on the way... but instead... nothing!
He stopped the car, turned of the light and came out. hand on his gun and all senses in alert. His sharp eyes looking around for clue of a presence; his nose picking and analyzing any possible scent that was coming his way.
From the distance he could see the team gathering a few hundred meters outside of the now burning shop. Was that the entrance to that 'underground'? The underground made no connection on his limited memory, but then again, these days, very little did.
He looked around again, scanning the streets and the possible entry points to the Docks. That made no sense... He looked at the team again and they seemed to be on the move.
Sons of a b****! Are they leaving without us? Way to make one feel invisible!
-
"Err... I know what you mean this was one wired shit. Very addictive I must say I sort of miss her already.
Still you got to admit, it gives a completely different view on headcases. I mean maybe it is not that terrible not to be alone in your mind if you share it with the right entity. Maybe this is some sort of poorly understood resonance or AI thing. Don't worry about me tough... I heard you need nanites to sort of get CFD, I sort of stayed away from these things because they interfere with my mojo. It was actually some very odd summoning technique I stumbled upon, it has some potential letting me hot siming while not completely defenseless. If I ever get that rig in my head it may be a good for rigging, if I can repeat the process. Very odd I must say, all my muscles are hurting like hell from this astral combat and jumping and turning. I bet this is how the car feels after you push it to its limits in 300km/h or something" He laughs.
-
Its only a few hundred meters of stalking through dark pipe before the runner team, their human cargo, and their guide come to a T junction with a large metal door that looks for all the world like a submarine hatch form an old trid sitting in the middle of it. The door is inscribed with a crude spray-painted spider, and a much better ARO of a red hourglass, one that only pops up when the viewer is within a few meters.
As they approach the makeshift seal that keeps Widow's Way locked away from the sewer annex they're in, Goodnight glances around, doing a quick headcount, then swears softly in French. "Hold tight a sec, 'Tasha." She says quietly. "I need to square something away right quick." Quickly, she grabs a blank matrix data file and inscribes the route they took. Its not difficult, there's nowhere one could branch off and get lost until the hatchway itself. The resulting map is rough but passable, nowhere near what a mapsoft could get but easy enough to read and to scale. She takes a snapshot of the hatchway in front of her and appends it, then packages the file and distributes it across the team's comm network to Nitro, cc'ing Melisa's host and, after a moment, Al and Isaint as well.
<<Nitro, I am not totally conversant in the makeup of your team, but we appear to have less people than we did a few minutes ago. Could you make sure everyone has a copy of this? You've got the clearest signal and I don't want anyone getting left behind.>>
Turning back to Natasha but pitching her voice loud enough for those nearby to hear, Goodnight says, "We're just going to wait here for a moment so everyone can catch up." She gestures at the door and says, "If you're curious, this was put in a decade ago. Its actually a hatch from an old ship that was rusting in the Docklands. All mechanical and very sturdy, and no one really knows its here because of the lack of power or matrix signature. Funny thing is, no one is sure where it came from. It just popped up overnight. This was a solid wall before then. Just one of the little mysteries of Below." She grins at Natasha and says, "If you liked history in school, you'll love this next part. This door is going to drop us into a Roman processional. Its pretty well weathered these days, but parts of it are still recognizable."
Across the team's channel, Goodnight says, <<Beyond that door is a bloody great tunnel. Its tall, its old, its wide, and its creepy. It is mostly safe, but as we get near the far end we'll be getting close to some old catacombs, and there are rumors about what lives inside so keep your eyes peeled. I don't know of any groups that have been assaulted here, but lone travelers disappear every so often and there's always a first time.>>
-
Solo receives the message and say to Nitro, "lets get close to the guide.... she seems a little tight but maybe we should just play along we are in her element after all. What is this fancy formation we are doing?"
He is a bit breathless seeing her for the first time or sort of the first time, he was aware of her pale hair and skin, but her appearance did not make such an effect on M, she was breath taking Solo felt drowning in these big eyes and these thick lips of her... "Quite a looker our guide isn't she? I saw her, but that spirit looks at people very differently then we do." He was afraid that M would be socially awkward but Goodnight was stunning even for a nymph. He'll get used to it eventually and M just looked at her in the astral where magic and physical appearance were less of an effect.
As they approached her and sort of waited for everyone to catch up, Solo was wondering if she really want everybody close to her or she is trying to mess up Isaints fancy tactical formation just to spite.
A bit hesitant to approach and a still a bit dazzled by her look and his own very unusual experience he approach her and introduced himself. "Hi, I am Solo... nice to meet you. I am usually a decker, but sometime I conjure as well. As you might have noticed."
-
Goodnight puts a hand protectively on Natasha's shoulder as she hears footsteps, but relaxes as she sees that it's Melisa's host rather than Isaint, Al, or the Ork with the bow. She favors him with a dazzling, million-nuyen smile that holds near-boundless warmth and apparent joy at Solo's simple introduction, and her cheeks dimple girlishly. She puts a hand to her throat and says in a breathy, throaty voice, "Oh my word! A man of diverse talents as well as striking looks!" There is no mockery in her voice, no humor. She appears to mean what she is saying, and her smile widens as she continues, "I am honored to find myself in such exalted company! A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. Around here, everyone calls me 'Goodnight.'"
Goodnight nods at the door and tells Solo, "This marks the beginning of Below. We're just holding off for a moment so the last of your team can catch up, and then we'll be down the rabbit hole in truth." She glances at Natasha and evaluates something in her head for a moment before looking back at Solo and asking, "So, good sir, have you come up to keep this beautiful young lady-" Goodnight falters a second as Natasha blushes at the sincerity in Goodnight's words, and Goodnight stifles a laugh. I seem to have that effect on people,[/i] she thinks wryly before picking up, "-and I company in the deep darkness of Widow's Way? I'm sure we would both feel better having you near."
-
Receiving the message and map the flamboyant rigger grins and nods, moving a few step back up the tunnel he appears to be staring back the way they came, his head making frequent adjustments. This odd display was actually just Nitro trying to get an optimum alignment of his antennae to get a boosted signal out of the tunnels.
Nitro to team. <<Alright, seems someone is lagging behind, our wonderful guide suggests this is bad for continued breathing so whoever it is that's lagging follow the included map double time!>> <File Attachment: Tunnel Directions>
Focused on the task he doesn't catch all of Solo's ramble, but he still gives the runner a look that suggests he's a few twinkies short of a Suffer Shack and shakes his head. "I dunno abou' tha... No' exac'ly my area o exper'ease mine ye, bu' a ma'er of professonal concern. Allsi been abble fine ou' is folks wit ware, spesly nanites, goin strain' an no lonner really 'emselfs, an tha is scarin some folks somtin mighey serus."
-
He pauses to watch the scroll of orders before outright bursting into laughter. "Ye kiddin' right? We're headdin inta onr o' the wildes' par's o London an ye wannus te be frogmarchin like sum fuckin corpsec goons? No' ta mention leavin me drone hangin' ass out ta get chewed up ifya winup missin an ambush... I dun normally take me dones allon' li'e this, that an with the wirelass as bad assit might be, I'mma keep 'er close thanyeveryfukinmuchferaskin."
He shakes his head still chuckling and strides down into the sewers, his drone following behind near the roof.
Isaint replied to Nitro:
<<Nitro from Isaint: There is no frog march, only overlapping fields of vision. If you don't want to risk your drones, you should probably not bring them to a place like this. Still, it's just a suggestion. I rely on you then to provide better cover than I can envision.>>
As the question of the missing runners came up, Isaint opened another channel to the Frenchman:
<<Sorry, I was distracted by a non-mission item. We are already underground. Our guide has provided an allegedly secure parking space for our rides. Send your car per autopilot there (location.map). We are waiting for you at the T-junction. NItro has sent you the details.>>
-
The Frenchman gave one last look around. In his mind it was clear someone was playing puppeteer with them all. Nevertheless, if he wanted to see the end of that mission, he had to make sure he'd keep an eye on a good old Doc, even if that included following everyone to the bottom of London or Hell, or whatever they were calling that non welcoming area.
Deep down, however, there was something pulling him back toward the group stronger than simple mission parameters: the single man he'd found in weeks to have any clue about the Frenchman's past was among them, and the Frenchman had no intention to let that lead go away.
He opened the trunk of his car, shoved his essential equipment and clothing inside his sturdy duffle bagpack and send to his car the command to get back to the garage where he lived, after having erased the itinerary he'd traveled to and from since yesterday. He put his coat back on and turned on the electrochromic coating to give it a more rugged and used, dirty look.
A rough map of where the team was heading appeared as an ARO in front of him. The Frenchman grinned. Already then, let see what London Below has to offer. He looked at Hallucination. Wanna come, girl?
It wasn't long before he regrouped with the rest of the team. The Frenchman could be as silent as a Ninja, but he knew it was better not to spook anybody. He texted his imminent arrival and upon joining back with the team acknowledged every one present. He nod at ISaint making sure to make eye contact and was happy to see no one was hurt from the Spirit fight. He grabbed and kissed Mel's hand. The crazy rigger was there too. Sorry for the delay, was making sure no one was behind us and bingo, a Suit shows up and boss around the Fire Marshall! Needless to say I have a bad feeling about this. I got a shot of the Suit, though.
Well, well, what do we have here? He asked upon laying eye on the all white elf girl. Elf? no she was no ordinary elf, could she be one of those infamous Dryad? Seeing her beauty wold only confirm his thoughts. No matter how bad the mission was going, he had been lucky with female side of the team. Hal had a lot of charms, Mel was dropdead gorgeous and this new one - the guide? - was almost too attractive to be real. Maybe some sort of illusion or physical mask. This day did nothing to his dislike of Magic, but more than never, it had its use.
Madame, he said to Goodnight in his perfect French.
-
Isaint replied to Nitro:
<<Nitro from Isaint: There is no frog march, only overlapping fields of vision. If you don't want to risk your drones, you should probably not bring them to a place like this. Still, it's just a suggestion. I rely on you then to provide better cover than I can envision.>>
The rigger snorts again before replying. Nitro to Isaint <<Until of course anyone realizes what you're doing and exploits it. What is it those UCAS Marines say? "Adapt and overcome motherfucker"? You do things a certain way, you can be easily anticipated, the less you plan out the more you can improvise and adapt to the situation.>>
As the Frenchman finally arrives he does a headcount before nodding with a grin to Goodnight. "Allrigh; lossli'e we're all 'ere. Rea'on time te ma'e ousselfs scares eh?"
-
"Bonsoir, mon ami, et bienvenue!" Goodnight replies pleasantly as the Frenchman draws up. Her accent is still colored with a strangely musical polyglot, as befits a UK native learning it from an Italian, but her French is more than passable as she turns her smile on him. Her dimples deepen as she tells The Frenchman, "What you have is a dryad sorceress and a lovely young lady who has consented to be her traveling companion for the moment." She brushes Natasha's shoulder with one hand, making sure to look at her and make her feel included before continuing, "And of course you know our staunch protector, he of the many talents, wandering eye, and singular companion!"
For someone who is hamming it up good and proper, Goodnight does a remarkable job of not sounding like she's poking fun. Her intended effect is actually to fill them with pride, not indignation or anger at being scorned. Her conversations with Al and Isaint not withstanding, her usual modus operandi is to encourage and compliment, and she keeps anything but sincerity and pleasure out of her voice as she tells The Frenchman, "Now Natasha and I are doubly blessed with two skilled, vital, attractive young men to keep us safe from the darkness of Below. Truly, I am thankful for your presence."
Nitro breaks in to urge them on and Goodnight gives a curt nod. Switching back to English she says, "Of course, sir. Let us depart." Her SecondSkin grows brighter, not enough to illuminate the area properly but enough that, like her contacts, it can be used for low-light vision. Swathed in dim violet light, she reaches out and twists the wheel of the door sharply, then throws it open.
On the other side of the door was naught but darkness, but as Goodnight steps through, those who can see in the dark in one form or another can see cyclopean black walls, pitted basalt carved with small, ancient characters. "Welcome to Widow's Way." Goodnight says. "We've got a long walk ahead of us. Those who can't see me, just remember to turn to your left coming through the door. Those with thermal vision, if you see anything that isn't us, speak up fast."
Goodnight sets off down Widow's Way, her boots tapping on the ancient, scarred cobblestones with which it is paved. The processional is wide, some twelve meters at this point, but Goodnight sticks close to the left-hand wall, the black stone- shiny with age- faintly reflecting her glowing purple. "What you are seeing," she says conversationally to Natasha, Solo, and The Frenchman, "Is the remains of the wall of honor, a practice similar to what modern militaries and police departments sometimes do. The characters tell stories, giving names, deeds, and great battles of some of the more august dead in the Catacombs. The white pillars," she points to a broken-off pedestal, its jagged top at about waist level and the rest of it in pieces strewn about the processional, "used to be Triumphal Columns, put up for great victories. Some can still be read, if one is a student of ancient languages."
Over the team's comm, she chats, <<I figure the tour guide impersonation will help the Doctor and his family keep their minds off of their present circumstances. And before anyone points out that I stand out with the purple glow, let me say that anything hunting us down here isn't doing it by visual light alone. Some of it may not even have eyes.>>
-
To Nitro: "Well if I was completely sane I wouldn't have been here in the first place. I'd find a day job in some double or perhaps even a triple A cooperate, climb high enough on the pyramid and make crap-load of money, but it is safe and boring. It is like being dead already... I frankly do not care much what people think - it is just a gig and I do my job the best I can. Tomorrow when there is no such a grand all star job in town I am back to working alone. It's good to have another voice in your head when you are alone with the danger, and I never had such a powerful HTR on my tail, downed a copter in a populated area or had my house set on fire until today... So many bad things in a single day, make me think if I should have take this job in the first place or just do Soloing something a bit less ambitious. "
Solo is a bit surprised by his warm welcome, he is handsome, but nothing spectacular. His dark hair cut short in a fashionable cut and he keep his clothes clean and try to always smell good. Socially aware of his surrounding.
He remains silent to Goodnight's introduction, finding it hard to speak. He blushes a little bit being called exalted company but recovers when he thinks of Natasha and her horrible day with gunfires, magic spirits and who knows what else in the future. He makes an effort to make her giggle just a little bit, hoping it will help her digest the events of the day in an healthier manner.
He bows and holds Natasha's hand. With a completely serious voice he say"You are indeed a beautiful young lady... my assault rifle, deck and mojo are at your service. I am sorry for the hardships of the road and I hope it will make a good story one day." He give her a warm smile and kisses her hand.
After a short while he stands up and face both Goodnight and Natasha. "I am still a bit overwhelmed by recent events but I will enjoy your company very much." It is true but he feels that mentioning it will give legitimacy to the teenage emotions, she'll know that even experienced runners do not casually fight spirits, burn buildings, kill armored people and wage mages, levitate cars and driving invisible at extreme speeds... no not every day is like that even in the exciting life of a shadow runner.
-
The rigger snorts again before replying. Nitro to Isaint <<Until of course anyone realizes what you're doing and exploits it. What is it those UCAS Marines say? "Adapt and overcome motherfucker"? You do things a certain way, you can be easily anticipated, the less you plan out the more you can improvise and adapt to the situation.>>
<<I had no idea that you were a marine. I can only rely on my training with the KSK. I am still alive and have not yet been bested in the use of these tactics. That's all I can say to endorse my way of doing things. Your drones, your choice.>>
This is really not my day. The only thing missing is the Frenchman remembering he does want to kill me after all.
Resigned he loaded noise reduction on the virtual machine on his link and tried to aim the fresnel fabric of his coat so that he kept contact to the matrix.
#90
-
Goodnight takes the opportunity afforded by Solo's charming of Natasha to chant under her breath as they walk. Her aura surges in the astral, and in the physical plain there is a faint cracking sound, like wood in a campfire, coupled with a warml, low laugh. The spirit appears briefly, a gorgeous woman bright white skin, scarlet hair, and luminous orange eyes. Clad in ribbons made of red-tinted smoke that wrap around her chest, waist, and hips, Goodnight can just barely see the horns poking out from her bangs, a more subtle summoning than the vengeful demoness of earlier. She bows to Goodnight and then, with a smile that is almost as dazzling as Goodnight's she bows to Natasha as well at Goodnight's unspoken request. The spirit turns back to Goodnight and says, "I shall await your pleasure, should you need me 'ere long."
Goodnight shakes her head and nods at Natasha. "No. I would ask you protect this girl. Do so until we reach our destination of the moment, and you will have fulfilled any services owed to me."
The spirit nods and, speaks at Goodnight's urging, saying, "Of course, lady conjurer. Anything for such a bright and lovely young thing." She smiles at Natasha and Goodnight, and smirks wickedly at Solo before she blinks out, back to the astral to watch and wait.
Goodnight grins and looks at Natasha. "There, now you are as protected as I can make you. Between myself, these fine and dashing young bravos, and your spiritual guardian, we shall see you and yours safely through this unhappy affair."
To Solo and Nitro she sends, <<I know, I know. I'm a huge drama queen. But she's a kid. Kids should feel safe, should be safe.>>
-
A drama queen, hell yes but it is not that gorgeous spirit it is the moral debates and slapping she is a very emotional one. Then again - she seems to know mojo rather well. Solo just waited for an opportunity to bind some mid force spirits. They seemed to be heading a world of harm, and while mojo was a powerful force to hide from underground they are in uncharted territory their guide is not an expert in combat and they just might be ambushed again...
It sort of did not bothor him that much but he feared that her true colors would show under pressure can this dazzling smile remain when the swat guys approach? he was not sure. Firing a mental comand form the throdes in his helmet, he answers:
>> You are a drama queen, but it is not just that spirit... *smiles*. M really liked you by the way.
-
So this was the Kingdom of the Crazies. As much as it was living up to its name so far, it couldn't hold a candle to the unnaturalness and degeneracy he was hearing among his own companions. If it weren't for this family he'd promised to protect, he'd be a memory by now.
Bad enough they were being led by some demon-loving hippy she-Spock, but then Solo, whom Al had really respected, had gone and turned himself into a woman. Al finally realized he'd been mounted, which he had some experience with back in N.O. and Seattle, but he was still disappointed the man had a let the female spirit have its way with him.
And now their guide had not only summoned another demon, but this one had horns too. And why were they all naked? He didn't mind personally, but it did suggest an unacceptable moral laxity, what with children present and all.
At least Isaint had shown his mettle. He was a stand-up tusker who knew his business, but back in Oxford Al had been a bit put-off by the guy's infatuation with gel rounds and so forth. That was a game could get you killed. But hearing him lay his thoughts out more clearly, he could see where he was coming from now. Not that he was about to start loading his shotgun with fake ammo in this lifetime. But when the ork had suggested the bounding overwatch, Al was on board - he'd gone along with the goblin's tactics in the hostage situation and they'd worked well, so he was in. He glanced at his assignment in the formation, grabbed Rachel Pelletiere, and shared a bemused look with Isaint - a "wow, what a ball-busting bitch" moment - before moving off to take up his position.
Now as they walked along, he was quietly reassuring Rachel about how safe she was with him, regaling her with a tale of some archeaologists he'd guided into the ruins of Tehran after some artifacts, but changing a few details so that they all came out alive. As he spoke - he typed out a text. It was to the team only. He probably would have gone ahead and included Goodbye, but he didn't have her code.
<<Soon as practical, we need to have a powwow. I think I've worked out the best buyer for the Doc - best for him, and best for us - along with a conduit to approach said buyer. Let NightNight know we need to stop when appropriate.>>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:18, Al’s Machine Shop, Docklands, London]
From the Frenchman’s vantage point he sees the timely arrival of London’s finest firefighters…it may not be the nicest part of town but letting fires spread in a light industrial area is asking for trouble. A single Met cruiser joins them and the officer lounges on his bonnet, there not even being any bystanders to warn off at this hour of the morning on this stretch of the bank. Moments later an unmarked black sedan pulls up and a sharply dressed individual steps out and strides confidently towards the officer (a detective, here, for this? Or something else…?). When spoken to the officer almost looks like he’d doff his cap if he was wearing one, and he sharpens up immediately. The suited gentleman then proceeds to address the crew fire chief in muted but authoritative tones. There’s a bit less kowtowing here, and more arm waving by the crew chief, but clearly the suit gets his way, whatever that may be…
***
Inside the Widow’s Way, the team gathered, those that are coming, the group progress with quiet caution…the tunnels echo with little more than the scuff of feet, the whisper of breath and the whine of the Bumblebee and Solo’s Growler, the electric engines sounding loud in the silence. The family struggle along beside the runners, their resilience surprising considering their comfortable corp upbringing, but they are beginning to flag as adrenaline fades and the lack of sleep begins to bite… Natasha responds to the attention being lavished on her by the exotic Goodnight, however, and she seems the most alert and responsive…she might just survive this intact (although the odds are stacking increasingly against the family as they descend into Below).
From one moment to the next the group go from dark dank tunnels to light and dank open marsh with no warning beyond the next foot forward. Despite the early hour they somehow know that it is late evening here. Each of them is wreathed with a glowing energy pattern, for those in the know an astral signature and Goddnight's succubus is clearly visible once more…it would seem they have stepped into an unrecorded astral shallow…the regimented sound of the tramp of marching feet echo eerily through the mists rising off the water, and somewhere ahead there is the mournful hoot of an owl and its mate’s response call…
***
#28
-
Solo texts Al back: >> Oh Al... how I glad to hear that we are going to make move before we run out of APDS. Are we going for eTher? Goodnight's comm attached. She might be too much of a roller coaster for your taste, but you don't have to like her just to work with her.
-
Al texted back, now including their guide: <<Roger that, amigo. Work's work. Yeah, i am going to recommend that. But rather not lay it all out until we can sit down and talk - even for just five minutes. We all have to sign off on it, first the family, then each of us, so I'd like to pitch it proper, with them in the discussion. Anyhow, they look like they need to take ten. Goodbye, is there a place we can stop for just a few?>>
-
At the sudden change Nitro stops dead, head swiveling as his augmented ears try to pinpoint the ghostly sounds.
"Allrigh.. allrigh.. summon mine explanin te me wha tha FUCK jussappene an where tha fuck we are?" He catches Goodnight's eye and raps a knuckle against the ammo drum "This be your area o exper'ease... Flechette or Ex-Ex? Nee ta know if I'm needin to lay a wall o' frag or blass throu armor."
[spoiler]Post count 66... really need to make sure I do it in this thread...[/spoiler]
-
Isaint made sure the Doctor did not stumble with the sudden unexpected view into the astral. Most of the group had already stopped by themselves.
His patron had blessed him with an enhanced sense for danger, but now he wasn't sure if it was this place or a real threat lurking nearby.
At Nitro's question he said absentmindedly: "Looks like some kind of astral break or shallow. You are seeing reality unfiltered here as if you had astral perception. Those are kinda rare, as far as I know. But be careful, not everything you see is necessarily material - including the floor."
-
Solo texts Goodnight>>.... why are we seeing the astral? no AR icons - we are extremely vulnerable especially the mundanes, and the nasty stuff that this family can suffer. Have we taken a wrong turn?
Then he figured up that Goodnight cannot see his message.
He looks nervously around, he knows enough about the astral to know that he is nothing but a baby in this realm, he need some spirit to make sure he does not stumble on anything dangerous.
At first he tried to summon M back, but she did not answer, maybe it was this place maybe it was bad luck, but the mojo was just not what it used to be. He then tried a smaller spirit. He'll have to re-learn how to live without M inside his mind. He managed to summon a slightly weaker spirit.
"Thanks for coming he said... please help us cross this place without stumbling. we are nothing but babies in this astral world" He asked the spirit.
[spoiler]
summon force 6 spirit of man (http://orokos.com/roll/311857): 15d6t5 4
spirit defense (http://orokos.com/roll/311858): 7d6t5 2
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/311862): 16d6t5 6
F7 spirit summoned, no drain.
Try 8:
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/311856): 16d6t5 7
spirit defense (http://orokos.com/roll/311855): 8d6t5 3
summon a force 7 spirit of man (http://orokos.com/roll/311854): 15d6t5 3
no luck.
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/311853): 14d6t5 3
Improve intuition (http://orokos.com/roll/311850): 15d6t5 3
improve willpower (http://orokos.com/roll/311852): 15d6t5 2
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/311851): 11d6t5 2
Solo drops his horrible attempts.
Improve intuition (http://orokos.com/roll/311850): 15d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
The spirit manifested and signaled them where it is safe to go. She observed around trying to spot anything unusual or dangerous.
[spoiler]astral preception test (http://orokos.com/roll/311864): 15d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
-
Although his cybernetic eyes can make conveying expression difficult his frustrated bafflement is clear. "wai-wai-wai a bloo'ey minu'e.. I'm seen tha fraggin ASTRAL?! I guess tha also be why noneome overleys are wor'in'?" He scratches the back of his head before shaking it and walking over to inspect the drone manually to make sure it transitioned fine since he can no longer get an AR feed.
-
Yeap, ASTRAL ... I also find it depressing... we don't belong in here. Said Solo... Imagine yourself blind - without training you won't be able to understand what you see try to follow the spirit."He added.
-
Now this was too much!
First everyone started glowing - it was a whole rainbow world, with the people especially bright, and then that new naked demon flitting all about.
There must be some sort of hallucingenic fungus spore in here.
The first thing Al did was to try seeing through Mel and Hal's clothes, and when that didn't work he decided this hallucination wasn't worth the trouble.
He switched to internal air, but no immediate effect. Maybe it would take a minute.
The rest of the team was chattering - by reflex, they used their comms, but the voices in his earbud were distant and fuzzy, and and he couldn't make out a thing on his commlink screen. No way he needed glasses, what with his cybereyes. So he started listening to what they were actually saying with their voices, and that worked much better - better than normal in fact - and he didn't like what they were saying.
He could restrain himself no longer. "All right, it is bad enough I am congregatin' with the forces o' darkness, but now some blamed fool down here is tryin' ta drag ol' Al directly into the occult world itself. Well, I ain't no devil worshipper, an' whoever is doin' this had better git they laughs in an' have done with it lickety split!" he growled, eyes going pointedly to their new guide.
-
Solo cried: "Al! keep your cool... I don't how or why we are here but try to keep cool because the last thing we want is to draw attention to ourselves.
We can barely see our equipment. Cannot use technology and cannot really observe our surroundings so even if we can use guns... I am not sure we can distinguish each other from external threats. These naked ladies are sort of our only eyes in this place. If you visit hell don't complain that your guide is a demon... I know you are having a hard time trusting spirits after all that happened - but they are the only ones that really understand what's going on right now. "
-
"Stay calm Al, but yes, this is no place to take a break. It's really difficult to discern what can and what can't hurt you here or rather: Everything can hurt you here, but you can't necessarily retaliate. As long as we astrally perceive we are dual-natured and susceptible to attacks from spirits that did not manifest. Sadly, bullets and steel still won't hurt them.
I'd say double time and a break when we have left this place behind us and reach a somewhat secure place. "
Isaint glanced around using his not very impressive skills in astral perception.
[spoiler]
Astral Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/311879): 8d6t5 4 [8d6t5=3, 4, 6, 2, 6, 3, 6, 5]
[/spoiler]
-
Al realized with some chagrin that his voice had been a lot louder than they needed it to be. He brought it down three or four notches and slung his shotgun, feeling the comforting return of those phantom brass knuckles from earlier.
"Calm. Hell, I'm calm as damned Hindu cow. But that don't mean I'm not hoppin' mad an' ready ta bust some heads. Now, is someone doin' this to us, or is it just this cockeyed place we's in?"
His left hand stroked Spike's head. The dog was disconcerted at best.
-
"Its the place, not a person." Goodnight says tightly. Her voice is strange her, heavy with flavors of her power, and it rings slightly. "Its an astral shallow, your companion is correct. Astral space is treacherous in Widow's Way." She glances about and says, "This is not always here." Her form is largely unchanged- Goodnight is what she is, Astral or not- but now more power clings to her, debts and compacts glowing like jewels about her person, Her own magic clings to her like a gossamer spiderweb, the quickened spells that speed and strengthen her now visible, and the ring on her left hand blazes like a drop of radium fire as she awakens her focus.
To Nitro, Goodnight says, "ExEx. This is astral space, like as not, so if weapons are useful at all here, you want to go with whatever you're carrying that will punch through as many layers of armor as possible. Spirits are damnably hard to kill without the right equipment, if they manifest against you at all. In here, they likely will not." She shakes her head. "This was not part of the plan. We need to get the hell out of here, right now. An astral shallow can be projected, but you wouldn't like to meet the sort of thing that can make one."
Goodnight grits her teeth as they start walking more quickly, and two more spirits blink into being above her, both floating on the aetheric winds. One is another fire spirit, twin to the first but further gifted with bat wings, and the other is a tall, statuesque woman in a hooded robe that hides her features, made entirely out of what looks to be the same stone as the walls. Her bound spirits, come to guard her in this place. Goodnight pays them no mind, instead pouring magical energy into a construct similar to the one she wears, the one that augments her personality through sheer force of will. She hangs it upon Natasha and manipulates it into a strange, self-sustaining loop, feeding it a tiny piece of herself to keep it going indefinitely. Such an augmentation is useful in the astral, where will and personality will avail a person better than any blade or gun. Then she nods, satisfied, and leads them on.
[spoiler]Astral Perception is 4
Natasha's spirit's Astral perception is 6
Increase CHA on Natasha is 10
Can't link right now, on phone. Will verify later.[/spoiler]
-
Solo's spirit appears like dwarf carrying an over-sized sledge hammer. Solo quickly deactivate his power focus when he is finally done. Ha carries no active spells and his aura does not appear much different than that of anyone else, at least to the untrained eye. "This way" say the dwarf... "careful over that rock over there he yells." he clearly has a lot of work to do. So many people, so new to the ways of the astral. He is clearly working hard for his service alright.
Solo notice Goodnight, so she is the kind that wears magic like clothes... quickening spells could make his life a lot easier... but how to turn them off? cross wards? he is not that comfortable with magic. A lot of his attention is given to physical magic - he is a bit fuzzy in some basic schools of magic.
"Goodnight... do you always carry your spells like that?" He tries to ask as quietly as possible, while he slowly makes his way through the marsh.
-
Goodnight raises an eyebrow. "What, as bold as brass and twice as bright?" She nods. "The ones I think I'll need, yes. Wards don't last long down here so a little planning is all it takes to make sure they survive." She shrugs. "They're eyecatching, sure, but right now you probably want them looking at me, and there are ways to mask such a spell."
Natasha is examining the glimmering threads of silver spellfire that cling to her now and Goodnight chuckles. "Its just a spell, sweetie. Normally you won't be able to see it. It'll make you stronger in places like this." Then Goodnight giggles like a flighty teenager and adds, "You might be interedted to find you're more attractive and persuasive while you have it." As Natasha begins to smile, Goodnight trades glances with Solo, and the expression on Goodnight's face slips long enough for him to see what Goodnight thinks of Natasha's chances of living long enough to enjoy her new benefits, befire the mask goes back in place.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:24, Widow’s Way, London Below, London]
Looming out of the mist towards the group an armoured column approaches, eagle standard held proudly aloft, feet tramping in strict rhythm to the muted thump of a drum. An officer on horseback can dimly be seen behind the first squad, breath steaming from the warhorse’s powerful nostrils…fragging Roman Centurions! Ghosts following the old processional…except now the group can see that in this dimly remembered fragment of time the processional is just being constructed, half cut basalt blocks waiting neatly to be stacked…
Time to get off the road before they are trodden underfoot by these things that aren’t quite spirits…!
***
#29
-
Natasha's chances to benefit from the spell were slim to none. If any that spell marked her as a target as it could be seen from a distance and trick people into targeting Natasha rather than Goodnight. Despite her stunning beauty it was clear to Solo that he was dealing with a dark and extremely manipulative creature. One that started to control the teenage girl with her super natural charm and apparent magical gifts. Natasha was enchanted by Goodnight and Solo was a little worried, fearing that all this attention may be given for some deeper reason than just making the teenage girl feel better about herself.
Solo Smiled at Natasha, she indeed became more charming and being aware that it was a spell did not made him immune to its effects. His smile flattens as he sees the approaching figures. What ever they are they are bad news. "Look Goodnight he whispers... we should try and stay out of their way."
He tries to signal everyone to be quite... with goodnight appearance hiding seemed like a difficult challenge. As curious Solo was about the occult, right now did not seem like an appropriate time to study spirit theory.
-
Al had planned on saving his last cigarette, the one the hippy-witch had given him, for a special occasion, but once everyone lit up like a forest of phantasmagoric Christmas trees, he figured this was that occasion.
Puffing on it calmed him down, and thinking clearly helped him realize how tired he must be. And much to his dismay, it was showing. Consarn it though, this new state of affairs was not only disconcerting - hell, he'd been good and disconcerted before - no, this was also downright offensive, being dragged into this morass of magical mojo-dom where no good Christian should ever find himself.
And now they'd summoned more damned ghosts - at least some of the new ones had some damned clothes on.
Calmer, he did his best to guide the stressed-out Spike and the apparently bemused Rachel through the boggy terrain. And while he did so, he looked around at his companions with his new witch-sight. No doubt, the avowed wizards and warlocks glowed brighter and more colorfully, and once he'd realized that, he realized that virtually all of them - even Isaint! - were Satanists of one brand or another. Shit.
Of course, he didn't bother looking at his own aura, since he knew for a fact it was a shining pillar of white. But while he would have been shocked at the reality - a power-laced swirl juxtaposing foggy confusions with absolute certainties - he would not have been the tiniest bit phased to note the three hounds that rode majestically along on his back and shoulders.
And then this so-called astral shallow turned into a freaking time warp.
Hippy though she was, he looked to Goodbye to follow her lead.
-
Solo observed Al's spirit claw that was clearly visible like some kind of nasty demonic weapon, sadly, without M, Solo was not exactly equipped for confrontation. "Al... I did not know you were awakened, do you have any idea what these things are?" Solo tried to whisper at him.
-
Isaint watched somewhat fascinated. He had always had a strong affinity for history and a roman legion in original garb was indeed a sight to behold. Of course, the first thing he did, was making sure the principal was out of harms way. It really was a shame he couldn't make a photo.
He felt rather than saw how his aura flared up at the approaching romans. Oh right, his patron wasn't as fond of the romans as him. Being tortured to death after serving faithfully in their army sometimes had that effect. Still, it was a rare occasion that he felt his presence that strong. Looking down at himself he saw that his astral form now resembled a crusader tunica. But the cross was that of St. George.
Isaint turned to Al and Solo: "That is a really fantastic sight, don't you think?"
-
"Damn." Goodnight breathes as she sees the column approaching. She looks around. Too many too hide easily, and her latin isn't good enough to bluff the spirits, to say nothing of her eldritch accoutrements and modern gear. She thinks for a moment about trying to bluff them as a god, but discards the idea. Her mythology ian't that good either and if she screws it up, they're all going to die. Spirits are fast, there's no way they could outrun them.
That leaves a standup fight, waiting to try and look like mourners, or running. There's an entrance to the catacombs here, but...
The Maze scares her.
She looks back at the spirits. Given her druthers she'd take her chances with the legion, but she cant make that choice for the others. She jerks her head at a cleft in the basalt and whispers, "We can get off the path, but it'll take us through the catacombs. But unless you speak Latin, I dont see how much choice we have."
-
"Loquor lingua Latina - parum. Sed tibi assentior. Cedere necesse est."
Isaint gestured the Doc to follow. The funny look the man gave him confirmed that he had understood his poor attempt speaking the dead language.
-
To ISaint: "That is indeed some spectacular sight... I should come here again when not on the job. What period in history do you think they are from? " To Goodnight: "If they wanted to kill us we we're fighting already movement is so fast in this realm. lets just try to show respect and clear the road."
-
Goodnight actually snarls. [colod=red]"Yes, thank you. I know how spirits work. But in case you hadn't noticed they're marching. They may be spirits but they're behaving like men, like legionnaires. Until they show different, we might want to apply Occam's razor and-"[/color] She breaks off and shakes her head, then hisses too quietly for Natasha to hear. "Whatever. Im the help and you dont trust me. Do what you must. I'll make sure the family gets out when you die screaming down here." Fuck 'em. They didn't want to try to leave the astral shallow, fine. They wanted to rush and hurry and not listen to advice, also fine. But thwb why the hell did they hire her in the first place?
-
Solo whispers: "Keep your cool Goodnight" He adds "you do not have to prove your worth. Just relax a little bit - You are very socially skilled despite how you display yourself. You make too much of an effort, I understand you are a creature of passion over cold reason or at least that you want to be seen like this. Seriously, what do you think we should do? "
-
"She already told you, Solo: Get out of here and into the catacombs. And I agree. As fascinating as it would be to meet authentic legionaries, the job comes first: Getting the family somewhere safe and out of this shallow for some rest."
Isaint patted Solo on the shoulder: "But I'll take you up on a separate expedition to here. The romans were in Londinium sometime in the middle of the first century, building roads and bringing the pax romana to the island."
-
"Al... I did not know you were awakened, do you have any idea what these things are?"
"Hell yes I'm awakened. Holy frijoles, amigo, ol' Al ain't slept but five minutes this whole night. But as fer these fellers, yeah reckon I do know what they are. Looks like twenny-second century shaolin monks, some kinda incense ritual I reckon."
Al congratulated himself on his encyclopedic knowledge of history, and then before Solo could reply, Isaint came up.
"That is a really fantastic sight, don't you think?"
"Yeah, they sure do no how ta put on a parade. But is they demons from hell, or ghosts doomed ta remain here till they oath is fulfilled?"
Al's musing was interrupted by Goodbye, who appeared quite concerned about the procession.
"We can get off the path, but it'll take us through the catacombs. But unless you speak Latin, I dont see how much choice we have."
Well, she was the guide, he thought. But then it turned out Isaint really did speak Latin. Damn these folks were professional.
But then the pissing match resumed, at which point Al congratulated himself again on having been such a highminded peacemaker before.
Fortunately it seemed Isaint was also the more level-headed of the two, which stood to reason, him being a man and all.
-
Solo say to Isaint: "So lets avoid these ghosts and go meet the ghosts in the catacombs... I am game. I thought it was like... we can leave but then we get to the catacombs - like a bad thing... and then she asked if I speak Latin and you spoke it to the doc, I thought that you were planning to speak with them... never mind then. Lets go see some dry bones. After seeing that family faces with Al driving an invisible car... the most scary part is already behind us."
-
"It might be death if we stay and death if we go. There's no map of the catacombs." Goodnight's voice is oddly flat. As the legionnaires draw near her aura goes quiet too, becoming a calm whorl of deep purple with her spells and focus hanging off of it. "I leave the choice to you. I can guide you either way, but I cannot promise safety. If we are to stay then we had better spread out and make ready in case of battle. If we are to go then we need to go now."
-
"Well, do we hafta go all the way in? Why can't we jist go in a little teensy ways an' hide till the monks go by, then come out an' we's on our way?"
-
Sainte Marie Mère de Dieu! All of a sudden his world turned around and what he was seeing was out of the mind of druggie's biggest trip!
The Frenchman didn't remember if he had done drugs in his 'previous' life. But he definitely had tried since stepping out of that London street clinic a few months ago. Living with no memories was difficult. He tried to play his best poker face when out and about, but mentally, being a man with no identity, no recollection of those moments that made a man who he was - his parents, his childhood, the friends he had made, the first girl he had kissed, maybe a broken heart, maybe a hard life in the streets - it was taking its toll on him! So yes he had tried some drugs; must have been last month give or take. Zen, Bliss, Novacoke. Well none of it helped him much with his memory.
Well, in any case, now he knew what 'tripping' really meant! He closed his eyes to focused on his other senses, but realized he was still "seeing" everything. It was like he had just gained another sort of sense. It was freaking him out.
The Snow girl was on fire, ISaint wearing some shinny bright antique costume, Al almost attacked by so sort of Hounds, more demons and horrors flying around him. The Frenchman took a deep breath. It was just a Bad Trip, a magical illusion of some sort, or toxic poison that touched his skin. His hand sled to his gun. He kept on taking deep breath. His attention was switching, from one bright thing to another. Sounds... there were some, muffled voices of his companions and rhythmical beat of a marching army. Odors, he could smell, but his olfactory sensor was not sending him back any analysis. Touch, he still felt the weight of his Coat, Chameleon suit and bag, the stretch of his muscle as he took a step
He had to take a few step back, trying hard to focus on something more tangible. He looked down at himself and the contrast was terrifying. Where his companions were shining different hues and intensity of light, he was but darkness and shadows. A feint blue hue that pulsated with his heartbeats was all he could really discerned. Even here, he was nothing, a shadow of himself, a dark spot in a torrent of light. Only Nitro seemed like him, all the extravagant clothing and augmentations were dimmed, a darkness taking over a suffocating light.
He 'perceived' swirls of purple strings emanating from Goodnight and enveloping the form of the teenage girl, the daughter of the Principal. Once more, that made no sense. He had to make sure the Doctor was safe. He trusted iSaint, surprisingly, but with this mind altering state affecting maybe everyone, he couldn't depend on one of them.
Serenity. He had to remain serene. He concentrated on is other senses. With enough focus he could make sense of what his companion were saying. Though most were talking Magic gibberish. He was 'feeling' things here. So if he trusted his feelings it seemed there was another way. A way that would take them out of the path of the Roman army... What The F***!
He moved toward ISaint and the Doc. All I hear is "Let's Avoid" so catacomb it is, I have no intention on staying in this Damned place any longer.
-
"Well if we can see them they can see us, Isaint speaks Latin, we have some spirits on our side and I can use a stunbolt even in the astral so i am not completely defenseless. Let's try to talk to them see who they are and what they want.
At the same time the rest can get as much distance from the family and them and if we need to run, my spirit can make Isaint and me faster and we can catch up. If Isaint does not want to talk then lets go to the catacomb - I am not sure it is easy to hide in the astral, and if they want to engage us i am sure we will be fighting alright.
To the frenchman - or we can go someplace more mundane - I totally miss my deck. "
-
"Good thinking Al and Frenchman. Movement now, puzzle solving later. Although I wouldn't be surprised if those ghosts are here to stay or at least in an infinite loop."
Solo, I'm sorry, but my Latin is definitely not good enough to talk our way out of a confrontation - and neither is my English it seems. I can learn almost any language in a few hours, but it's all very basic. Sorry to be a spoil sport, but this is to risky by far with the family in the middle of it.
Also, if we are getting the tour, we can at least take the whole thing."
Isaint waited for their guide to take them towards the catacombs, ready to follow.
-
"Some other time no worries" Said Solo and took some last curious look at the roman army approaching them. "Lets get going and see if they let us leave."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:24, Widow’s Way, London Below, London]
It’s almost anti-climactic to be so singularly ignored…as the group scramble for the exit into the potentially deadlier Catacombs the first of the Roman soldiers pass… it seems they may well be in some sort of loop, for the finest fighting force for many centuries they would not allow a small group of potential foes to pass without a challenge…
***
#30
-
The Frenchman ushered the Doc, not far from ISaint towards where Goodnight was pointing. One thing was sure he didn't want to stay in the Astral Shallow any longer than necessary. He wondered for a second if he should have just stayed out and confront the Suit guy. Well, he knew it wasn't a bright idea, but neither was visiting the Catacombs in London's early hours.
Solo, is that woman still in you, you surely speak as much as one now!
Well, not all of them. Mel, as elegant as she was still, had remained very quiet since yesterday.
He looked back to see the Legion pass by them. By the look of it they had no choice but to enter the Catacombs now.
-
Al shrugged. Legion of ghost monks. Catacombs filled with undead horrors. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
He kept the woman moving forward, Spike in front, himself behind.
-
Here at lest was a place where Nitro was outshone, all his technological extravagance now black and dead, this same black deadness shredding and dimming his aura. In here, it is easy for all to see the price Nitro has paid for his prowess, how much of his humanity has been stripped away and replaced with steel, circuits and wires. it is also clear that he is struggling to process what is going on, years spent processing digital vision and sound, be if from the sensors of vehicles and drones or his cybernetic eyes and ears overturned, his normal enhancements non-functional as he perceives in a completely alien way. His agitation and confusion clear to see for anyone who knows how to read an aura as what is left of his human aura spins and whirls chaotically.
"Fuck.. allrigh' lessjus' ge' tha fuck ouda 'ere... Livin' or unlivin I dun fuckin' care jussalon' assit's fuckin REAL."
-
Solo answers the Frenchman: "Nope... I miss her already, she returned to the metaplanes at sun dawn. " It was indeed some field trip trip from hell, like that one history lesson where Solo fell a sleep in and had some terrible nightmares.
-
Isaint looked back at Nitro - seeing his mutilated aura with all the foreign augmentations explained a lot about his somewhat erratic behavior: "Don't worry Nitro, I'm positive that this shallow isn't that big. It's probably just a crossing of two ley lines or something."
The little excursion did have a positive aspect: Observing his teams aura's he was reassured that none of them were head cases. True, he had seen only one before with astral sight and it was somewhat hard to detect, but so far he hadn't seen anything like it.
#97
-
As Goodnight begins to lead them down a small side passage, more a crack in the walls than a true egress, she comments, "Perhaps surprisingly, Isaint is more than likely exactly correct. London is a crossing for several great leys, the largest of which the lines starting at Giant's Causeway and the one crossing through Stonehenge, as well as a dozen smaller but still potent ones, veins to the great leys' arteries." Her voice is more level than the team has heard it so far, and if the hunch of her shoulders is tight and her movements overcontrolled, that could easily be put down to their circumstances rather than purely an emotional state.
However, with the astral shallow laying bare everyone's auras, she is surprisingly easy to read. Her deeper emotions are a mixture of fear, irritation, and sadness, with no one winning over the other two. Several things appear to be bothering her, but while her aura is a riotous chaotic mass of color, it is within sharply defined limits. Whatever she is feeling, she is controlling it, at least for the moment. Above those emotions lie her more temporal ones, concern directed at the girl beside her, apprehension at what lies ahead, and a bone deep longing for something beyond it.
Behind her emotions blazes her power, almost eyesearing in its intensity. No mere street mage is Goodnight. It is raw, inchoate, only barely defined, but it is intense, the sort of magic that takes a prodigious natural gift coupled with long or intensely brutal tutoring. The ring of light around her throat blazes with the broad power of a focus built to enhance everything, weapon, armor, and tools all at once rather than the sharply defined construct of a blade or a spell focus.
Finally, for the particularly observant, there are...patches, in her aura, wounds that have filled up and scarred over but nonetheless leave telltale marks for those that can read them. Some are nearly gone, older hurts long since healed while others are still vivid and raw.
Goodnight, of course, pays no attention to her own aura, nor does she look back to read the others'. She has a job to do, and if its the catacombs, then she needs to be chill. Null sheen, Radical Edward would say. She leads them down into the catacombs, and as she walks she consults what rumors, tales, and fragmented bits of map lore she can remember about the place, trying to assess the fastest way out that would dump them further into Widow's Way.
[spoiler]Knowledge Roll for Below - 12d6t5: 6 (http://orokos.com/roll/312149)[/spoiler]
-
To those skilled in the art Solo's aura is bright orange. Reds of passion constantly play with yellows of curiosity. Other emotions are there by they a lot less frequent. Despite what he say, his aura he clearly feels at home in the astral. There is no question that he is awakened, as mana seems to ‘dance’ when it approaches his aura. The general shape of the aura is a bit odd for a meta human and resembles that of a spirit as pale lines of mana that seem to connect Solo’s aura to one of the meta planes. There are no active spells on his aura tough his power focus is clearly visible as a small kitten tattoo on his right butt cheek - Solo is clearly, not a man of traditions and does not take his magic too seriously.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:26, Widow’s Way & the Catacombs, London Below, London]
As the group stumble out of the shallow the fog rises relentlessly around them, as if trying to bar their passage. The mournful sound of the owl cry covers the scuff of their feet and the harshness of their breathing…
The transition out of the shallow is sudden as the group wend their way down through the fault in the basalt. There is an almost imperceptible feeling of loss at leaving the glory of the astral behind, even for those accustomed to it and those who fear and loathe it…
And then a headcount reveals that two of your number appear to be missing, from out of the centre of the group, somehow Smiley and Hallucination haven’t followed you through although nobody recalls seeing them veer off the path or call out in any way. Below has taken its first toll it would seem…
***
#31
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:26, Widow’s Way & the Catacombs, London Below, London]
"Son of a damned bitch," Al swore.
He was delighted to have taken his KrazySpecs off, but deeply dismayed at the loss of two of their number
His eyes soaked up every ounce of light from hippy-witch's mod outfit, and a quick look around showed all four of their charges were still with them.
So leave your co-workers to do your duty? Or duty to your companions?
But the words of his mother's reading from the Good Book rang clear - you leave the ninety-nine and go after the one.
"Keep goin', y'all. Spike'll find 'em."
-
No Hallucination, and no Simile ?
Solo is looking around with disbelief. It was unfair... he wanted to spend some time studying roman legionaries, but they decided to go play with the infected instead. "Have anyone seen Hallucination and Smile ? I think they were right next to William... William? William!" Solo cries hard and for a second he fear the worst, but the little boy is quickly found, right next to Frenchman and Rachel. "That's very odd indeed... let's go back and find them!"
"Al! wait we should all come back or at least send some spirits to find them."
-
The wisdom of Solo's idea was immediately apparent.
Al hated relying on those...things. But if anywhere was the place to do it, it was back in that shallow-whatever-it-was. That was their turf.
it would be the best thing for their companions and the best thing for the family.
"Like the way you think, amigo. Let's send a couple, then." He paused. He thought. "How do we do that?"
-
"Damn it." Isaint looked around. He had tried to keep everyone in sight, but the forced astral had prevented him from using IR and he had avoided using active ultrasound. For a few seconds he tried to find out if the passive sensor had recorded anything, but no such luck.
"Solo, has your drone-slash-scooter recorded anything on ultrasound?"
Two crew-members lost - that was unacceptable - but even less acceptable was it to divide the group and search for them while they still had their mission.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it. Ok. Solo, using spirits is probably the best solution. We can't risk loosing anymore people down here. Active sensors from now on and for everyone who doesn't have one, here are some micro transceivers. They work matrix independent up to a kilometer. From now on we make regular roll calls whenever someone gets out of sight."
Yep. This is not your day.
#98
-
Looking at Nitro and Frenchman, the family Solo decided that they should not risk them in astral space again. It is not their world and two expirinced runners are missing. "James P... are you with me ? I want you to go back and use your search power to find our missing team members." The dwarf with the over-sized hammer said "Okay... I'll be on my way... to bad there is nothing to hammer... perheaps next time!"
To Al "I just sent him, he is a powerful spirit he swims the astral like a fish in the water .That place cannot be that big, if they are still around James will find them! He covers more ground than Spike, and he knows how meta humans look in the astral"
To Isaint, yes this is really bad, very amateur of us. I'll see if my drones have recorded anything while being in the astral.
He passes on the feeds from the drones, they are mostly statics but every once in a while there is some astral picture at low resolution. They are beautiful like drawings, but carry little practical information.
After a short while he calls ISaint again to look at his RCC "You see? here they are still with us the colorful pixels are aura's I think. Then as the Romans passed over us there was static - their presence sort of distorted the image. Once the Romans left they were not there already. There are these red pixels in UV I am not sure if it is static or their aura's though. They only appear for a minute. Drones normally do not enter the astral - so I have no idea what's normal and whats not. "
-
"It was to much to hope finding them both holding hands taking a siesta somewhere. Nitro, I don't expect anything better, but please check your drones as well."
More to himself he said: "They really need to invent an agent that can read and manipulate sensor feeds. How hard can it be to design electronic warfare autosoft?"
-
While they are waiting for the spirit to return, hopefully saying that the two felt romantic and decided to take some alone time to work on their evolving relationship. Solo say:
"So Al... you said you had some exit plan out of this mess? "
-
"Well, if'n it's agreeable to ever'one, yeah, I got a plan. But it ain't gon' happen from down here. Way I see it, them as chased us here, they long-distance charms may be stymied, but they ain't gon' stop chasin' just cuz o' some dark tunnels an' ghost monks. Afore we know it we's gon' be up against whatever's down here, an' whatever the megas send on top o' that. So unless Goodbye here disagrees, I reckon we move now, flap our jaws later."
He figured Solo was about as smart as anyone he'd ever met, and moreover he was as eager as any of them to get a proactive plan into motion; right now they were definitely not controlling events. But he'd promised the Doc he wouldn't send him anywhere he wasn't willing, and the traumatized family was in no position to listen to his plan and then make a decision while they groped half-blindly among undead-filled catacombs while their protectors disappeared one by one. He would be happy to just run it by Solo first, but here in close quarters that was not only physically difficult, it would open a king-sized can of political worms. And some of the relationships on this team were strained enough as it was.
He could see the Doc's face. Even tinged in light-amplifed green, he could see the man looking at him, even more anxious than Solo to know Al's thoughts. But squeezing their way through these dank, cramped passages - it wasn't the place for him to decide anything, and they couldn't do anything about it right now even if he did.
Al patted the man on the shoulder. "Soon enough, Doc. Right now we jist gotta keep movin', git you an' yours outta this nightmare in one piece."
He moved up to talk to Goodbye. He made sure he was good and noisy as he approached her. "So hey, don't know how long you're thinkin' we's gon' be down here, or how long it takes ta get anywhere, but if along the way there's anywhere we can git a signal, then we can start makin' moves ta git ahead o' this thing. Otherwise, we's jist headin' somewhere but goin' nowhere, an' time ain't on our side."
-
A little panicky moment when they realized two of them were missing. However, the Frenchman knew their survival and sanity depended on keeping on moving and reaching their destination as quickly as possible.
Guy, I'm not the kind to leave anyone behind but we need to keep on moving. Hal and Smiley are of Native American origins. If I'm not mistaken, they have a strong relationship with the world of Spirits and relationship to them and their environment. Maybe they decided they just couldn't cross this graveyard, you know superstition and all that. I think they simply turned around and went back to the surface. For all we know they send us a message while we were all hallucinating, and no one caught it. My instinct tells me they're fine, but that's worth shit; what I know is that we have four civilians to bring to a somewhat safer place. And this spooky place ain't gonna do it. So let's move.
-
Solo went by Al and spoke quitely "Look, just because we are not controlling events does not mean we should not get a message to the surface once we get some reception. With Nitro's antenna's and equipment I think we might find a place to do so even so deep underground.
In a way, in an uncharted location where magic and technology don't work we are the strongest we'll ever be. We hold all the cards. No suit is going to try to just grab the doc out of our hands, and they can still wire torrent our money before the actual drop to gain our trust.
Once we make our way outside of the catacombs we will be open again to cooperate attacks. We may want to discuss some solution then, but things will happen quick - more HTR more spirits ambushes, our way will be decorated with collateral damage and dead bodies and when we make our deal it will be out of weakness rather then strength.
Catacombs is where we are strongest! We are entering a place full of undead - this is where we can score the best deal as their options to interfere are very limited, their HTR teams won't enter the catacombs, their ritual magic won't work - and few runners are brave enough to venture into a place full of undead just to confront some of the most expensive runners in the market.
Sure we might die, but if we manage to get to the other side alive, we'll have the best deal in our career waiting for us. This is something worth surviving for isn't it? "
-
Solo was not the arguing type, he gave Al his reasoning he was not going to pressure him into making a move. They were sort of running out of deckers and mages, First Daddy, then Hallucination and two mages gone. Snow crash had issues and that's one less decker- these were the reasons why Solo keeps the important cards close to his chest. Decking and magic, just because you were born awaken doesn't mean you need to be a no computers guy. If any, you get a huge advantage using your magic to be smarter or more intuitive then the average joe that has to buy expensive augmentations.
Had Goodnight not showed up, he'd find himself the only mage in the group, luckily she seemed as powerful as they get. Despite her young age. The wounds on her aura, Solo was not sure but things started connecting they were old and new, her conversation with ISaint the strong emotional response, the suggestion of someone willingly offering herself to an infected to satisfy this hunger.
To M, she said she was involved and it is personal - Goodnight was probobly offering herself. In all her super-natural glory there was some person that could pull her strings make her dance to his rythem - a female probobly because she was totally blushed when M asked about girl flower.
How charming does one have to be to be able to capture the interest of someone so charismatic. Someone that can effect most people and turn them into mindless drones driven by lust? Solo was smart and intuitive, these emotions were authentic - she is a great actress but some things you cannot fake.
Not only Goodnight is involved with an infected, she is the one keeping the beast at bay. How long can she do it? can a single person satisfy the hunger of an infected? He never gave much thought to the infected. He was rational to avoid them and refuse jobs that were likely to lead him to places like the catacombs - there was no shame in being picky - people may think you are a cowered - but Solo did not care what people think. He was himself.
He wasn't afraid, not to go to these places - he was careful. During his long life he survived being dehumanized just because he is an elf. He was experimented on, starved and tormented just to see what sort of critter he is. He descended from being less then a person - a nobody to being a top member of a cooperation and then descended back into the shadows when he discovered the truth about his employers.
Death comes to all - might as well embrace it and not fear it - in the meanwhile they should be having as much fun as possible. Life shouldn't be taken so seriously and after being a millionaire in the past, rich beyond runners wildest dreams. Then he had huge debits - because living a cooperation and killing everyone who was remotely responsible to the atrocities he suffered was challenging and expensive. Money was just something that comes and goes - but Solo knew that it spins the world - and thought he might as well use some of his business thinking, to make them a good deal corps were all about the bottom line and after years in one it seems natural to maximize the bottom line.
He asks Goodnight: "Is it normal that over an hour has passed - when it only felt like 10 minutes inside there?"
To frenchman: "I think they were inside - I cannot be sure but... the feeds, they were inside and then they weren't somthing very odd happened in there. The spirit is gone too... it is not coming back - it just disappeared."
To all: "I do not think we should go there... it goes against my moral campus - but if my spirit disappeared in there, not banished, not attacked, just disappeared the link gone and I stopped sensing him.... we should not risk it. We are lucky to be here."
-
"Just a second, Frenchman."
Isaint walked over to Al and Solo tapping at his earbuds.
"You two need to be a bit quieter if you want to have a private conversation. Sound enhancers at work. But back to topic: I can provide you with matrix access. This coat is not just stylish and fire resistant, it also works as an amplifier. So if you want to call someone, just put your comm inside the fabric and turn around until you have a signal.
Also, Solo is right: We are as far from the grasp of the corporations as we can get in London. We might as well use this early morning."
Isaint felt strange. The close contact to his patron had opened up something in him. His reflexes were just a bit faster than before...
#100
-
"You are welcome to join the chat" said Solo "I think that Nitro has antenna's and good RCC with your jacket we should be able to overcome even the most terrible of noise, I am also skilled with electronic warfare and know a few tricks that can further help our signal quality. I believe that we can make calls to the surface quite reliably - it may be a bit of a hassle and take some preparation but we should be able to do so."
-
Goodnight turns her head to look at Al. "How long depends on how accurate the stories are and whether we run into anything down here." She says calmly. "But if we get out of the Catacombs and into Hellbound Station or Shadows' Folly, there are places where wireless is easily accessible. Signal scrubbing and amplifiers may not avail you down here in some place. Lots of ferrous metal above us. You're probably alright here, but deeper in you may be drek out of luck."
Goodnight isn't privy to Solo's thoughts, so she has no idea how close he is to the mark, or just how far short he falls in some of his suppositions. Right now her thoughts are on Natasha, and just how much she resembles her sister, Victoria. More vital, certainly, and less pallor, but the same age, the same wide-eyed rapture at new sights and experiences, the same defiant set of her shoulders when problems close in. Goodnight failed her sister spectacularly and singularly, and she knows she will carry that burden for the rest of her and her sister's lives.
She is determined not to fail Natasha, too.
She squeezes Natasha's hand lightly and tells the girl, "You know you can ask questions, right? I won't bite." She looks the girl over critically for a second. Still wearing her teenager's glad rags, the girl has to be freezing down here in the dark, especially after passing through that fog. She snorts and tells Natasha, "Honey, your clothes are going to get ruined down here." As they walk, picking a path amongst the dust and cobwebs and pitted stone of the outer edges of the Catacombs, Goodnight strips her gloves off. Holding them in one hand, she reaches down and from a pouch on her belt pulls a tightly folded square of cloth, unfurling it to reveal what looks like a ballistic spidersilk cloak. Its thin, but it reaches the floor and has a hood. "Put these on, sweet pea. I need a little more material to work with."
As Natasha pulls the elbow length gloves on and figures out the claps to the cloak, Goodnight cocks an ear at Solo, then says, "Normal may be pushing it a bit, but- ah. One second, Solo."
Natasha has the gloves and cloak on, looking awkward and incongruous in the ballistic cloth, gloves, and her normal outfit, but Goodnight smiles delightedly. "Perfect." She says softly, then reaches out and lays a hand on Natasha's shoulder, whispering a torrent of liquid syllables. A gentle pulse of magic flows from her hand over Natasha, and in its wake, her outfit is drastically changed. Gone are the night-on-the-town clothes, the heels and Spinrad hiphuggers and cutaway tank, along with the gloves and cloak.
In their place is something between practical gear and a 'trid's conception of what a 'runner would wear. It is, of course, attractive- Goodnight is going for warm, comfortable, and cute, not battle-ready- but it is a damned sight better than what she was wearing. Drawn from a cross between Mal from theShadowStalkers film franchise and Felicity Stiletto from the Darrien Cross novels, the clothing has become fitted black pants with a decidedly martial air, tight enough to be flattering but not cut so that they would fall off with one good sneeze. Her top is full-coverage now, a black turtleneck tank that runs to her hips, and the buckles of the prior clothing have been redistributed into an approximation of combat webbing. The heels thickened and shortened, leaving low-heeled calf-boots instead of a teenager's brightly-colored baby-prostitute heels, and the gloves go to Natash'as wrists now, but are considerable thicker and warmer. The extra spangles and sparkles ended up on the back of the cloak, now a short-waisted black jacket that is also thicker and warmer- the same material now occupying only a third of the surface area and all- and sports a swirling magical-looking motif on the back that stands out against the spidersilk's sheen.
Goodnight grins at her handiwork and taps the side of her eye. "Don't worry, I can turn it all back later. Now, though, you look the part. Everything feel okay?" Natasha nods, stunned, and Goodnight grins again before turning back to Solo and saying, "Sorry about that. Anyway, like I said, 'normal is pushing the envelope,' but its not unheard of, especially when stealing through the astral for a short ways."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:26, Widow’s Way & the Catacombs, London Below, London]\
Nitro shuddered again as they passed back into the normal world. "Well than' fuckin cris' fer..." he trails off as he notices their two missing members. "Ahhh fuckin 'ell, wha' a mess."
Hearing Isaint he cheeks the feeds dutifully but winds up shaking his head. "Nothing here I'm afrai'... there is an Ewar 'soft, called Clearsight. Bu' wi' tha fragged wireless an' possibility o' bein' ambushe any'ime I've me Bumble-Bee running i's comba' 'softs direc'ly an dunna 'ave me fly spy's out so as I dunna win' up loosin em in this fuckin' mess o' caves."
He shrugs his outfit into a more comfortable position, once again his nitro flame display making him stand out. Hearing the talk about getting a signal out he nods. "Well, as our lovely gui'e says, 'ere seemtabe some areas o' signal an I know a few thin's about Ewar mesself, also RCCs are dessignte be able te punch a signal through, an' I've hade some modifications made te ma'e this one even be'er a' it." At the mention of the micro-transceivers he grins and pulls back the neck covering of his outfit, practically invisible is the contact point of the sub-vocal mic.
Looking into the catacombs he takes a few seconds to swap out the drums on the milspec assault shotgun. "Figure nowsa 'ime te be usin flechettes... moss infec'ed ain' terribly well armore'.. also, we ge' ou'num'erd can hose down tha area wi' supressin' fire while we all ma'e ousselves scares."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~04:26, Widow’s Way & the Catacombs, London Below, London]
Al winced inwardly at Isaint's mention of 'private conversation.' Any appearance of politicking or faction building was precisely what Al had been trying to avoid. But with all of them crammed into a dark cave, they could talk quietly and give that impression, or loudly and have their voices echo all the way to ghoul central.
He nodded at Goodbye, thanking her for explaining things a bit. Then he looked at the four Pelletieres. Four people that were keeping him and the others from going after Smiley and Hallucination. Shit they'd been through the wringer. And turned out the Doc hadn't been doing anything more reckless than using a career app to find a new job. Extracted with varying degrees of force, ambushed by SK SWAT ninjas and subjected to a harrowing mystical escape, only to be attacked by elemental demons and chased into this insane netherworld. And now here they were, protected by a bickering pack of half-psycho mercenaries against megas and governments, at least some of whom were probably headcase pawns bent on killing rather than capturing them. Sitting stalled in some saints-forsaken catacomb, near to blind unless they had vision enhancements. William had abandoned all semblance of macho posturing, the teenage boy clinging to his mother. She was facing the greatest fear any human ever does - that of losing her children. And the Doc, he was up against the greatest shame anyone ever faces - the prospect of failing to protect his family. At least Goodbye was keeping Natasha's spirits up.
Thank goodness Frenchie at least wanted to keep moving. But if Isaint and Nitro really could get a signal, maybe now was the chance to talk, shit as it was. When they got the signal. But until then, they had to be covering ground. He looked at Isaint and Solo. "No, mi compadres, Solo ain't right. I'll grant ya, this place may be further from the megas' reach than elsewheres, relatively speakin', but ain't nowhere outta they reach. Shee-it, sons, our boy Torrent done made a coupla calls an' Snow White here shows up Johnny onna spot. Ya think he's better connected than SK's intel assets? Ya think ol' Torrent knows more folks than MI5 or whoever it was we saw snoopin' 'round onna Doc's career app? They may not come down theyselves, but that don't mean they gonna sit on they hands an' wait for us ta regain the initiative."
He cursed some more under his breath and reached for his cigarettes, and then remembered he didn't have any.
"We gotta move. Hell, this rabbit hole we just come down, she was scared ta lead us in here. Now ol' Al's done talkin' till we git to a spot worth catchin' our breath in, or else we git a signal. Now, if you all geniuses can git said signal, then I reckon we's in business. But work it while we walk."
-
The Frenchman let his companions sort out the technical part. He knew they had to keep moving and agreed wholeheartedly but silently to Al's latest comment.
His pistol was out, held down along his coat to remain discreet and his eyes were flickering left and right. If someone was paying close attention they could maybe have noticed the faint tremor of his nostrils. Needless to say, all his senses, enhanced and natural were on full alert.
[spoiler]
Attempting to detect anything that would lurk or come at them.
Perception (Scent) (http://orokos.com/roll/312291): 19d6t5 6[/spoiler]
-
Goodnight chuckles, a pleasant sound of actual mirth rather than the bitterness-tinged inflections of earlier. "Snow White?" She asks archly, not turning around. "I'd have said Elsa, or maybe Merida myself. I'm not in a polyamorous relationship with a clan of dwarves, thank you very much." She chuckles once more and keeps walking. "Pain me though it does, I am forced to agree with your scarred and blunt-spoken friend. We need to keep moving. Ghouls are not the worst things down here, not by a long shot." Her tone is wry, masking her fear well, though anyone who could read an aura already knew under how much stress Goodnight is operating. "The sooner we're out of these tunnels, the better."
[spoiler]Just a reminder for Aria's benefit:
Natasha's Guardian has 6 hits on Astral PER (http://orokos.com/roll/311887)
Goodnight has 4 hits on Astral PER (http://orokos.com/roll/311884)
Goodnight has 6 hits on Area Knowledge: London Below (http://orokos.com/roll/312149) to find a way out of this place[/spoiler]
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis walked with the others, lagging behind a bit with his stubby legs. His hand holding his head as things could be heard through the streams of the matrix. He had no idea what just happened, the last few minutes seem ot have gone by in a bit of a blur, maybe longer.. shorter? He couldn't tell.
"Just what.. is going on. Please use small words, I've got a headache."
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 41th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
Solo's attention was a bit split- the spiritual connection simply disappeared. He became distanced and quite. His mind struggling how can that be? Frankly, he did not care what power tries to kill them. Not right now - but it was an odd place to be. He wanted M on his side, he could not force her to come, she was a bit cagey about granting him leverage to control her - but she usually came when his mind was focused on her during a summon. He prepared his mind for her powerful nature. Focused his concern solely on her image and how he wanted to meet her again - no he was not going to let her wander fearing she might just disappear like the previous spirit. He wanted her as close as he could have her.
"Missed me already ?" were her first words.
Indeed - I do not know how I could ever live without you in my mind. he thought at her.
"I do that to people" she thought back at him.
In the physical plane Solo suddenly became healthier, more agile and stronger there was more confidence in his movement. On the astral their spirits blended together - they weren't so different in some philosophical level. Both were creatures of passion. They were united again.
What if I bind you this time? he thought at her.
"Kinky....
And Seriously? he thought at her.
"I could literally kill you... I am a force of freedom not easily contained. My mind will kick you in the nuts, figuratively speaking, must you try to control me?
I am sorry, it was selfish of me to suggest, but I think I may be able to pull it off and then we can stay together for a month or two... isn't that just a little bit attractive for you? he thought at her.
"Seems like a big commitment - I am not sure you can handle it, not yet."
[spoiler]
Improve Intuition Spell (http://orokos.com/roll/312370): 15d6t5 8
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/312369): 11d6t5 4
Improve Willpower Spell (http://orokos.com/roll/312367): 16d6t5 5
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/312368): 11d6t5 2
Highten concern remove penalties up to -2
Summon 7F man (http://orokos.com/roll/312372): 15d6t5 7
resistance (http://orokos.com/roll/312373): 8d6t5 3
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/312374): 19d6t5 5
Solo gains 4 services, 1 stun damage drain.
[/spoiler]
-
Solo whispers to Tobias: "You just visited astral space. We are in this world now, still heading to the catacombs"
To goodnight: "But I be you can use some magic not to have bad breath even after 100 years of sleep... "
He figured they could just lighten the gloomy atmosphere just a little bit.
-
Goodnight's smile is positively impish. "You're right!" She stage whispers. "I also don't sweat, get sick, and my drek smells like roses!" She pats Solo on the cheek. "Actually most of that is true. Cosmetic biosculpting doesn't really cost essence, and when you look like I do in this line of work, you get pigeonholed." She gestures at her body expansively before idly shrugging one shoulder. "I figure as long as muscle-bound sammies, johnsons, and arrogant frontmen are gonna grab my ass and get on my tits about being this way, I might as well go the extra klick and weaponize it. So I shelled out for the skin treatments, the expensive lotions and oils and crap for my hair, the perfume and lipstick and all, and turned myself into a super-joygirl. I don't always like it, but I've opened more doors with a lick of my lips and a smile than a lightning bolt or a bullet." Goodnight's eyes shift focus for a moment, as she sees the astral form of Melisa lurking just over Solo's metaphysical "shoulder," and she nods vaguely at the spirit before telling Solo, "Ask your traveling companion. She's probably gotten down and dirty enough to explain it better than I fear I am."
-
"Well I do not know about a lick in the lips" he laughs. "I open doors with direct connection hacking... but sometimes when they have a good firewall - "Please does the trick... If I feel generous or desperate I let M say the please." He laughs.
M say: "Hi Goodnight... don't need the third person... Where are we going now?"
Somehow Goodnights touch is electrifying, Solo feel trapped between two beautiful women, his aura must tell the tell he is not indifferent to that, but being socially skilled he decide to ignore it. It probobly means nothing despite how it felt, she just admitted to use that drop dead gorgeous look to manipulate people into getting her way.
-
"Hello, gorgeous." Goodnight purrs, her astral self shooting a wicked little smile Melisa's way. Even a simple gesture or expression like that, in the astral while awake, is a tremendous effort, but somehow Goodnight manages it.
Then she has the grace to blush as she looks back to Solo. "My apologies, sir. I don't mean to step into your turf. You and your lady spirit are clearly close, and I do not wish to intrude upon it." She takes her hand from Solo's cheek, but lets it brush his shoulder before allows her arm to fall. Beside her, natasha looks confused, unable to see the third party in Solo and Goodnight's conversation, but Goodnight favors her with another of those high-wattage grins and Natasha grins back despite herself, looking very young and innocent, despite her new attire.
Shifting her focus back to the spirit, Goodnight says, "Right now? We're headed through a centuries-old maze of the dead. On the other side I hope to find a place for which 'wretched hive' would be an unearned compliment. After that, we'll make for Shadows' Folly, a bazaar, marketplace, and undertown that should prove quite interesting to you and yours. I have a doss there, and a few friends, so we can rest and recuperate while the team checks in and gets more specific marching orders."
-
M say to Solo "Hey, It was my cheek too don't get cheeky about it!" .
To goodnight she say: "Dead... I always found that part strange. Why can't you just gather your essence and live again? Death is odd"
Solo say: "Well actually... M is not the one I should be worried about... gosh I am a terrible person." He shrugs and takes a deep breath. Goodnight is right - how do you maintain a relationship with a spirit in your mind... sure he can not do it, but he feels so much better when she is with him - it is not her power, he can summon other powerful spirits - just something about her always passionate always optimistic manner enchant him.
He shows goodnight a small picture on electronic paper that shows an ageless ginger elf jumping of a cliff - and enjoying the ride, at the way down Solo grabs her with magic and passionately kiss her - "Her name is Tammie - she is a bit of an adrenaline junkie... we both are actually" he say... "She has no idea what I do for a day job. She won't approve, nor the running and especially not M"
"Tell her the truth... tell her that I am your step grandma... " said M.
"It does not matter what I tell her... She is not the kind to listen to words. " He sighs.
-
It's odd to think that someone could be calmer walking into a pit of undead, but that certainly seems the case of Nitro, He carries the drum fed assault shotgun with the ease of practice, of not exactly grace. His flickering eyes switching from time to time between low-light and thermographic modes, making sure he doesn't miss details obvious in one but obscured by the other, his head occasionally moving to track something most of the other can't see or hear, his own hearing expanded into the infra and ultra sonic ranges. He also keeps an AR window open of the 270 degree viewing angle of his drone, most would find it disorienting but he's had years of practice monitoring two such feeds at once. The image quality isn't the perfect, but he's pumping out so many signal boosters and redundant channels that he's able to keep fairly well connected to the armored drone.
As Goodnight talks about her routines he can't help but chuckle and interject "Well as much as I kanna complain about tha ressul's that flimsy s'insui' ain' gonna do dreck to protec' ye when tha lea', bla'es and spells sra' flyin."
-
Isaint looked at the small changeling who had kept himself in the background. Well it stood to reason that he would have more trouble with this environment than the others:
"Hey Tobbis, are you ok? We just traversed an astral shallow, wreaking havok with our senses. But nothing to worry, it's not permanent. How's your matrix connection?"
#101
-
Solo smiles happily as Nitro jump in on the conversation, "M is also here - don't get spooked" he softly whispers at him.
-
The rigger's grin turns slightly sickly as he eyes Solo. "alrigh'.. sure.. than's fer... than's fer tha hea's up..." If solo was hoping this news would calm Nitro, it clearly isn't working.
-
"Most metahumans do not have that power." Goodnight tells Melisa. "The infected can take essence for themselves, and some humans have pacted with spirits for the same power, but those are few and far between. We simply have not evolved the power to replenish our own essence and thus stave off our natural end."
To Solo, Goodnight breathes, "She's beautiful." Its not a lie. There is something incredibly vital about Tammi, about both of them in that small, endlessly repeating moment on the e-paper. She glances sharply at Solo, then tells him, "Bad move, hotshot. What if you died down here? Would she know what happened to you? Why you'd gone? Or would she think you just another deadbeat, one who took off with some cute piece of ass and didn't even have the decency to say goodbye, or worse, would sit and wait for you forever with her life on hold?" Goodnight pats his shoulder again, the gesture taking a little of the sting out of her words and her tone is sweet and sincerely repentant as she lowers her gaze. "I'm sorry, Solo. You didn't deserve that. But have you thought of how your death on a job might affect her? If you can't tell her about your day job- and I get why you can't, I do- then you need to take steps to at least give her closure if you don't come home."
Goodnight turns away from Solo for a moment to "look" at Melisa and asks the pretty spirit, "Have you tried explaining to him why its a bad idea to step out on his girlfriend with a spirit?" Then she gives a wry little laugh and asks, "Or is that one of those metahuman things that's beyond your concern as a spirit?"
She decides to let them ponder for a moment as Nitro decides to employ his ability to mangle the Queen's English. Goodnight blinks theatrically, seeing if her "obvious" puzzlement as she parses his words can draw a smile from the heavily armed rigger and take his attention from solo's insubstantial companion. After a second or two, she nods and tells him, "Yes, this is pretty much just for show. Usually there's a ballistic overlay that goes with it, but Natasha needed it more. I can heal from bullet wounds if I'm quick, and anything that would simply kill me outright wouldn't benefit from a little more spidersilk mesh." She glances down at her suit- which becomes hazy and translucent for the blink of an eye, reverting to opaque so fast that someone with boosted senses wouldn't be sure they'd seen it- then back up at Nitro with an urchin's grin and asks, "Besides, who would shoot this work of art?"
Then she laughs roguishly and tosses her snowy hair. "Usually if I'm going into a situation where I might have to get shot at I'll wear my Ace of Cups, but I am confident in my ability to keep myself from getting killed even without it. Appearances aside, this is not my first time." Her casual tone implies that being shot is something that is not exactly uncommon, and her small smile seems to add that it is neither unexpected nor entirely unwelcomed, either.
-
The flamboyant rigger snorts and gives Goodnight a crooked, wry and yes slightly lecherous grin. "Walli guess ifya ge'em thin;in' wi' one 'ead o'er tha o'er then tehy're or'lly gonna be thin'in o' a whole differen' kin' o aimin. Still 'affer tha Slee'in' Ti'er mesself. Room fer a lo'a me gear an' dessen' protec'ion ta boo'." he pauses to take a moment to check his gun and eye his drone. "Still if wors' cometa wor' me an me BumbleBee augh'a be able to lay enou' supressoin ta ge' jussabou' any'in' duc'in' fer cover. Augh'a buy us enou' time ta leggi' or lone up a killsho'. Dunli'e riskin' me drone inna place li'e 'is, bu' yejuss afffa ma'e a bes' o' bad si'ua'ion... an' sommin tell me we all gonna be grafful fer a li'll sex'ra firepower affore we ge' paid."
-
M said "Why it is a bad idea to run off with a spirit ?
Shouldn't you be the one to tell him?" She giggles "I am not in a position to judge I did far worse things than he ever did... It is the first time in over 20 years he has a girlfriend - I am just happy for him. He only recently became powerful enough to summon me and never channeled me until yesterday... it is heck of a ride for me, a bit overwhelming."
Solo thought to himself... "well I am never really dead - I got these scripts in case I kick it. She get all the possessions under my current SIN and a goodbye letter full of lies - saying that I am married and this is why I disappear all the time... I have to leave her because otherwise I'll get her killed. Especially with how hot this SIN just became. I knew it was a bad idea since I saw her."
To Goodnight: "Me kicking it is not a problem... I planed to 'die' few months ago, leaving a message behind, but I was just stealing moment after moment of the closest thing I'll ever have a relationship with a normative person outside of the shadows" He sighe and becomes silent struggling not to get his eyes wet. He looks into the darkness, clearly upset but he does not care about undead horrors - dropping that chopper was probobly a death sentence to his relationship - he is in the freaking catacombs hiding from the heat - associated with his current fake sin, the new one is already waiting for him - just pay and pick it up.
"you take life way too seriously... it's all new to you ... You were a person once just quit and go be with Tammie, make your current SIN a real one and forget about it. If you out live her, I'll still be here when you love birds are finished. - why you need to merge with me?
You will stop being yourself if you go with this plan.
I have all the time in the world. I'll probobly stick around after you as well. " M seemed a bit upset despite being the bigger person about it.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
"Astral whatie?" He asks, as the two mages banter back and forth. "No.. Nevermind. As for the Matrix.. its there.. but this place wasn't built for it. " He reached over and pinched himself. Nope, couldn't feel a thing still. The headache he was feeling had to be psychosomatic, probably something related to someone like him somehow going through the world of pure magic. Or maybe it was because of the noise. Either way he didn't like it.
"I could attempt to resonate with what I can touch though."
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 42th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint looked quizzically at the changeling:
"Resonate? Oh, so you are one of those technomancers. Sorry, I assumed you had an internal deck or something.
Is it true, that you can make electronics work better through some kind of magic programs? That would be very helpful for the coming confrontations. A little extra edge over the opposition."
-
Goodnight giggles at Melisa's confusion, and the two of them sound like a couple of schoolgirls in the astral. "Its more the stepping out part, not the spirit part that's a problem." She explains. "Metahuman women get territorial, and if she's not awakened, she can't even see you. It would be like competing with a ghost. If you had a body of your own, maybe..." Goodnight trails off, thinking hard. Relationships are something she has a lot of experience in. Not her own, of course, but helping others? That is something she is comfortable with. "Hold that thought for a sec, Melisa."
To Solo, Goodnight patiently explains, "That might kill her, you know." She nods at the scrap of e-paper. "She looks like she really loves you. Normal people aren't like us, they don't understand that sometimes you have to drop everything and walk away. You just disappearing would tear a huge hole in her life, and she might never refill it. That would be incredibly cruel." She purses her poison-purple lips. "Have you considered bringing her over to our side of the street?" She asks after a moment. "If she loves you, she can cope with your lifestyle. Media is working with you, making us all out to be glamorous lawbreakers, like those old trids about pirates and outlaws." She points at the paper again. "And if she's an adrenaline junkie, this lifestyle may not be a bad thing for her. Its exciting as hell, you're a competent 'runner in your own right, and with some chrome or some vat muscle or a few quickened spells we could put her up on her level."
Goodnight's voice warms as the idea takes form in her head. "Instead of abandoning your life and living with a spirit that wants nothing more than to guard your family and fuck you to exhaustion in your head, why don't you build a life around these things?" She smiles. "This is twenty seventy-five, honey, not the dark ages. Strange relationships are the rule, rather than the exception. Build a life, build a team. You could do worse than an enhanced adrenaline-junkie for a girlfriend and a powerful spirit inhabiting a body for a mistress."
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis blinks, grumbling softly as he face palms. He let the cat out of the bag. Oh well no use denying it now. "Yes... sort of. Its not easy to do and GOD really hates when I do it. I need time to rest so I can work at them again. And why in the bloody blue blazes do I keep hearing the Rocket Chocolate theme song? Blasted earworms."
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 43th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
"No problem, we'll have to find some place to rest anyway so the family doesn't break down from exhaustion.
Also don't worry. I never bought into that whole technomancer hate, but I can see why you don't advertise. There are some fairly nasty outfits out there who do nothing else but grab the gifted.
Still, when you are rested, I'd ask you to give that improvement program a try. We are in a really dangerous environment. We can't afford not to use any and all resources at our disposition."
Isaint pondered for a moment:
"But don't over do it, you conscious and on the top of your game is worth more than a few improvements on our gear."
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Figuring he might as well continue on, "Well, I can remain conscious through almost anything. Just.. well, I can't actually feel much while I am. I know my body is in pain right now, but I can't feel any of it. I'm not even sure where this headache is coming from, even with my medical knowledge. I'm not sure what those two are going on about with something about spriits.. "
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 44th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
Nitro look back, his cybereyes typically expressionless, but his face slightly quizzical. "Eh? Oneanna 'ose 'echnowizz types? Canansay tha' I know mu' o yer type... 'ear some o' ye ma'e pre'y goo' riggers though..." He looks the diminutive changeling over and sighs before settling the assault shotgun back into a ready position, feeling more and more that he was babysitting more than just the marks and without any fast exit plan.
-
Solo takes a deep breath "She will make an excellent runner, the charming cat burglar type, she's rich so it will just fit the stereotype." He pauses "This job is dangerous most do not survive more than a year. I do not know if a break up will kill her - but this threesome you are suggesting is very likely to kill her eventually. Would you do bring someone you care about, to this side of the street?"
-
"No problem, we'll have to find some place to rest anyway so the family doesn't break down from exhaustion.
I'll tell you what's exhausting, those two lovebirds right here.
Directing his word to Goodnight and Solo: You two, why don't you just seat down, I'll bring you some tea and some biscuits and you can tell us all about your relationship issues... C'mon guys, we're in the freaking catacombs and all I can hear is your chatterbox yapping about girlfriends. Get it together and stay alert.
Nitro, I have no clue what you're saying, but yay to firepower right now.
-
Isaint unsuccessfully suppressed a laugh at that:
"I didn't want to say anything Nitro, but yeah, for a non-native speaker like me that was pretty incomprehensible."
He turned again to the Frenchman:
"Meh, I won't complain - It's definitely better than my conversations with her. For some reason she thinks I'm an indiscriminate baby killer were infected are concerned."
-
M says to Goodnight in the astral: "It isn't like that... It is love and sacrifice isn't it?"
Solo's eyes light for a short moment when Frenchman offers tea and biscuits, he then realizes that Frenchman does not have tea and biscuits in his survival gear. With a mental command he texts Frenchman and ISaint. >> Do you really think that leaving GN alone with her negative emotions and creative thoughts is a good idea? That her emotions have no effect at all? It may be so, but ISaint's right cheek thinks differently. Let her focus on Natasha and casual talk, it will defuse some of her anger and we will get the best performance from her.
His lips are saying a completely different thing: "We are armed and dangerous, with drones in formation and spirits scanning the astral around us, it should be difficult to surprise us. We are all a bit edgy- and already lost our beauty sleep and too many of our team mates. Spending the time in silence alone with our thoughts thinking just how dangerous our situation really is. Will not do good to our mental condition. "
-
Al nearly cheered when Frenchie told Solo and Goodbye to get their shit together. But it had been minutes since his last smoke, and hours since his last drink, so naturally he was irritable. Besides, he had on occasion been known to stray onto the loquacious side of the tracks himself. As long as they kept moving, he was happy.
He noticed that the Doc was whispering something to his wife. She hesitated, then agreed with him, and he approached Al. "Listen, um, Al, we appreciate your capabilities and know you'll do all you can to keep us safe, but...well...we've already seen how easy it is for even professionals like yourselves to get separated in here, and we've also noticed how most of you are carrying large firearms at the ready, and..."
"Jist spit 'er out, Doc."
"Right, well then, what it is is we'd like weapons. Just your spares, of course, just something to protect ourselves with as a last resort. My wife and I have both done skeet shooting for years now."
Skeet shooting? Al's eyebrows rose in bemusement, but he understood where this family man was coming from. All he wanted to do was anything at all to better his family's odds. "Well Doc, we lit outta there pretty fast. This here Remington's only thing I got. Probably the same fer our compadres here, an' what they do got, well, ya know what a biometric safety is?"
Al made his reply loud enough for the whole group to hear. Hopefully they'd take his hint - the last thing they needed was firearms in the hands of these people in a confused, near pitch-black melee.
-
Isaint shoved both hands into the folds of his jacket and produced two tasers with laser sights attached.
"Here, four shots, laser sight, 20m maximum distance. Try to ignore the groves, the grip is modified to fit my hands. Don't shoot yourself. Those things pack a serious punch.
And as we say in Germany: Wiedersehen macht Freude - I want those back."
-
Solo overheard Al and the doc.
>> Al, I got a spare Sigma street style sub machine gun, and a couple of stick and shots. I also got a spare AK-97 on the bike. I can spare stick and shots for both. While it is too late for training, these are automatics with good recoil compensation. Goodnight might be able to magically augment them so they'll feel as skilled as average security guards.
He then catches ISaint handing Rachel and the Doc tasers. Probably safer to have them with tasers, he is impressed how equipped ISaint is.
-
Goodnight is considering her reply when catches Isaint and the Frenchman making their comments, and then Solo's surprisingly mild reply. Very calmly, she draws her Ares Lightfire 75 and turns around, stopping in the middle of the tunnel. She glares at Isaint and the Frenchman and tells the Isaint, "Not just infected. I think you're an indiscriminate thug where everyone is concerned. You said it yourself, 'Hurting people is we do' right? So don't be surprised or upset if I think that a paid legbreaker with hatred of monsters is, y'know, going to attack what most people would define as monsters, or if I treat you like a violent thug." Goodnight looks angry, but it is not the flashing rage of earlier and her voice remains calm. Now there is an edge of resignation to it, an unspoken measure of weary acceptance, as though she's dealt with people like the Isaint she describes a thousand times before, and didn't enjoy it then either.
Her eyes shift to the Frenchman. "We have four civilians that don't know how to move quietly, drones buzzing about, and a fucking motorcycle. My voice is not adding appreciably to the noise level." She explains irritably. "Take it from the expert. Most of the drek down here could hunt you silent, in the dark, behind a ruthenium screen and thermal damping. Spirits and their ilk do not give a single, apathetic sunday fuck how loud we are." She gestures at Solo with the hand that isn't holding a firearm and says, "But this man is having problems beyond our current task. Thinking of a solution rather than dwelling on a problem is constructive, and if he's got an idea of what he wants to do, the motivation to get through this to do it may save his life, so kindly shut your fragging gob unless you have something to contribute."
Goodnight looks back at Isaint, her eyes rolling for a second and says, "At least you had a viewpoint to express." Then she stares daggers at them both a moment longer and turns back around, walking once more.
To Natasha, Goodnight says, "I'm sorry about that." As they walk, she ejects the magazine from her pistol and replaces it with another, one that has a yellow stripe down the back, and curious looking bullets. She loads the pistol and cycles the action wirelessly, then places it back in its holster and unbuckles the whole thing from her thigh. Proferring it to Natasha, Goodnight says, "Here. I figure no kid in this day and age can grow up without having at least a layman's knowledge of how to use a gun, right?" Natasha nods, staring at the holster, which had turned black somewhere between hand and thigh. Goodnight nods, approving. "Good. This is loaded with stick-n'-shock. It won't kill anybody unless you really pile on the shots, but it'll stop a charging ork if you hit him a couple of times. Take it, put it on, make sure you know where it is in the dark."
As Natasha buckles on the holster, Goodnight looks at Solo and says, "To answer you, yes, I would. I already have." She sounds incredibly sad for those five syllables, but she smiles, too. Then she shifts her focus to Melisa and tells her, "Love is sacrifice, yes, but it doesn't have to be. If she loves him,she'll adapt. If you love him, you'll let him adapt. If he loves you both, he'll try to make it work."
Goodnight takes a second to pull out her contacts case and pop out her nightshade contacts, putting them in the case and washing them with a few brisk shakes. Natasha is just getting the holster seated when Goodnight hands her the case and tells her, "Here. Nightvision and a smartlink. Just put the little pink triangle where you want the bullet to go and physics will do the rest." Her own eyes are a blazing fuschia now, and they flash in the near-darkness like a cat's as she whispers and gestures, proving that she can, in fact, augment someone to be a better shot. The new spell construct lays over the old, and a moment later Natasha's grace and speed have been as augmented as Goodnight's magic can make them. Satisfied, she lets Natasha begin to get the measure of her new skill and gear and turns away, leading them deeper into The Maze.
-
“Just for the record. “ Say Solo quietly - “ This is not a fucking motorcycle. It is the Yamaha Growler. The best motorcycle for the conditions here, great speed off road, superior handling. It can go on one wheel and jump over rocks. This bike can access places where no other vehicle can.” He then say with clear passion in his voice “The sexy part is that with a dash of spiritual help it can become super sonic... you haven’t lived before you reached supersonic speed on a "fucking motorcycle".” With a naughty smile he adds. "I will take you for a spin if your heart can handle the excitement - when we’re off duty off course.”
Solo obviously feels strongly about the motorcycle, the comment of the Frenchman totally passed him, with no effect, but the motorcycle is very dear to him. Solo smiles with unease when Goodnight turns his love life into a public topic, or a weapon against ISaint, for such a charismatic person she does not have a lot of finesse - but at least the previous rage became a more civilized hostility, and maybe a trickster spirit is NOT going to make them kill each other.
“Spirits love to toy with meta humans emotions, but they are a bit cagey about their own, aren’t they M?”
M answers “ I don’t do these things anymore”
Solo said. “Nevermind it right now... this place is just like you wanted, creepy and spooky with minor spirits crying, trapped between the living and the dead - misleaded. Most people would find it spooky - but I just feel as if it is a great location for some bike tricks.”
Solo smiles at Natasha, he opens his leather jacket and exposes an SMG on his heap... "This is the Ares Sigma, very popular for street fights, drug dealers and gangers." He unfolds it - and get it ready to action. "This gun is accurate and powerful, point and click squeeze the trigger gently until you hear 3 or 4 booms then stop to re-balance the gun, there is no point in much longer bursts as the gun will divert from its target."
He hands it to Natasha - and guide her how to hold the gun - fixes her position show her how it should sit in her hands, and how her arms and shoulders also play a part in aiming.
"The first thing you need to understand is cover, something bad happens you do not just stand here and fire! First you get down on the floor like this". He dives down military style. His mind is focused on the his assault rifle and his entire body is inline with the gun to better handle the recoil. "Only once you are under cover, crouching or laying on the ground you fire" He adds: "this gun is a real beast, but it is more important not to be hit. You pick your shots carefully, focus first on whom is most dangerous to you. Remember the goal is self defense, if you are hiding and under no immediate danger do not shoot, we are so fast in combat that it will all be over in a few seconds. You only shoot if the enemy is directly going to attack you. “
“Got it” Said Natasha.
The SMG is already loaded with stick and shots, apparently Solo only switch to lethal force in extreme situations and the ambush with milspec armored HTR was not yet classified as extreme in his book.
To Goodnight - “the SMG may be a better for her as she is not skilled - it is more difficult to doge.” He lets Natasha pick her weapon and then help her practice a little bit in using it.
"Now we practice - when I say down, you go down and aim - the target is in your smartlink." he waits a moment and then cries " Down! " Both of them get down and get into firing positions. As Natasha gets up, Solo cires “Down” again and after several times when she is a bit out of breath Solo say that it is enough. “When something bad happens your body now knows what to do.” He say. "Now lets hope that that doctor is not going to have us killed for giving a gun to his teenage daughter." He thinks.
Then Goodnight say that she have took someone to the shadows in the past and that she would do it again. “You said you did it and would do it again... I do not understand why did you do it? ... Honestly, while I have some bogus cover Tammie has a real family, parents that worship her and brothers and sisters - it feels awfully selfish to just grab her to my side of the street and cut her free from everything... what could possibly cause you to drug someone to our world?”
-
Goodnight is considering her reply when catches Isaint and the Frenchman making their comments, and then Solo's surprisingly mild reply. Very calmly, she draws her Ares Lightfire 75 and turns around, stopping in the middle of the tunnel. She glares at Isaint and the Frenchman and tells the Isaint, "Not just infected. I think you're an indiscriminate thug where everyone is concerned. You said it yourself, 'Hurting people is we do' right? So don't be surprised or upset if I think that a paid legbreaker with hatred of monsters is, y'know, going to attack what most people would define as monsters, or if I treat you like a violent thug." Goodnight looks angry, but it is not the flashing rage of earlier and her voice remains calm. Now there is an edge of resignation to it, an unspoken measure of weary acceptance, as though she's dealt with people like the Isaint she describes a thousand times before, and didn't enjoy it then either.
With measured, calm, even mild words Isaint replied:
"That's because you chose to ignore or disregard half of what I've been saying in favor of your preconceived notion and misconstrue the other half. If you think I'm a hate filled legbreaker, I think you are a hypocrite of the worst kind, condemning in others what you apologize in those you favor.
If you engaged that pretty head of yours for a moment you might even wonder why I carry an arsenal of less than lethal weaponry."
-
Goodnight doesn't turn around, and her voice is as level as Isaint's. "This is pointless. You do your thing, ride drag and don't trust the guide, and I'll concentrate on finding our way out of-" She takes a turn as she speaks, then curses savagely in Sperethiel. Ahead, the first tunnel out, the one that would drop them at the end of The Warrens and allow them to travel to Hellbound, is impassable. A rockslide, brought on by god knew what, has filled the passage. She turns back to the group at large and says, "Unfortunately, it appears that we'll be down here a little longer. This exit has collapsed, so we need to move on to the next one." Her voice is calm, pleasant, and reassuring, betraying none of her worry at being stuck down here even longer. She turns and continues walking as Solo shows Natasha the ins-and-outs of the submachine gun he handed her.
To Isaint, Goodnight sends a private message. <<Look. This is getting us nowhere. You think I'm a flighty, hypocritical girl and I think you're a bloodthirsty asshole. That's not likely to change anytime soon. After this, we can have it out. Frankly, I'd like to beat the tar out of you, and I suspect that you want to do the same to me. You're welcome to try if you think you're hard enough. But in the meantime, here's a little food for thought.
1. The only weapon I've seen you use is an armor-piercing, high-caliber weapon that can discorporate a spirit in a single burst. That is, by definition, lethal. So don't get on your high horse about an arsenal I haven't seen.
2. I haven't apologized for a goddamn thing, and I'm not going to. I don't even know where the hell that part is coming from. Its not violence I condemn, its bigoted, nonsensical violence born out of ignorance or fear. I never claimed to be a peace-loving hippy. But I assess and respond to threats and circumstances on an as-needed basis. Sometimes, yes, killing is what you need. Sometimes torture. But not always, and needlessly causing pain when there is no reason to cuts against every grain I have. I'm a dryad. Cruelty, pain, and negative influences physically affect me.
3. My notions of you are entirely based on what you have said, and a great deal of hard-won experience with violent, hate-filled legbreakers. If you don't like being ascribed cultural norms, then maybe don't play into them quite so damned much.
4. You don't know a thing about me. While we're leveling accusations of hypocrisy, I'd like to point out that you have no idea where my notions and thoughts come from. You're being just as judgmental and hypocritical as I, and for the same reasons.
4. Talk down to me like I'm just a pretty piece of ass again, and I will leave you down here. Yes, I'm pretty. Yes, I'm emotional. Yes, I'm a grrrrl. I'm also one of the most puissant mages down here, a 'runner in my own right, and perfectly capable of holding my own in a fight. If you don't believe me, start something and I promise I'll finish it. Just so we're absolutely clear.>>
The words only take a moment to write and send. Mental typing speed, wonderful stuff. Her snippy matrix message sent, Goodnight tells Solo- who had just rejoined her with Natasha in tow- "Good idea. I didn't realize you were packing more appropriate firepower under there." She walks in silence for a dozen more steps and then says, "I'm sorry about airing your problems. In my defense, with as enhanced as everyone here seems to be, they could already hear us, but I still shouldn't have done it. Something about that...man rubs me the wrong way."
Goodnight keeps walking and the silence is longer this time. Finally, when she speaks, her tone is low and sad. "Family. My sister." The words are lead-heavy. "I could have left her above, but she has a...medical condition. She could have tried to lead a normal life in the light, but she needs someone who cares for her, who understands. Acceptance isn't enough, and I'm the only family she has. I could have left her to her life, but then if anything happened I could never have lived with myself. So we talked." One corner of Goodnight's mouth curls up in a sardonic half-smile. "She thought the idea was great, of course. She's a teenager. The shadows sound so romantic at that age. So we walked. She chose a person who loves her and a life of excitement and danger over a life of...nothing. Fighting her condition, worrying about a...relapse, trying to get by. At least down here she has something to live for."
-
Well, so much for his attempt at not arming the whole family. Al looked around in amazement as, in less time than it would take to say 'death by electrocution' everyone in the clan but the terrified William was armed to the teeth. He didn't agree, but he could see the argument. What he couldn't abide was all the tasers and shock shells. Like that somehow made it safer. Things went to shit, there were now bound to be some friendly fire casualties - a thirty-second tutorial in a pitch-dark tunnel was not going to prevent that - and he would sure as hell rather get hit by a bullet than one of those shocker things. Hell, he could take a bullet. That shock shit would lay you out in no time, and being asleep would mean being a meal just as much as being dead would.
But there was nothing for it. And nothing to say. The last thing they needed was another round of contention and bickering. He congratulated himself on his peaceful nature.
He'd go crazy trying to make sense of this insanity.
As long as they kept moving.
He didn't even need to bend down to pat his monster dog's head, and he caught himself doing it a lot. As much to ground himself as to reassure the beast. His other link to reality was his Remington 990, clip of buckshot cartridges lovingly in place. He wished Snow was still with them. Now that tusker has known what to do with a pack of ghouls.
In the rare moments when people weren't giving each other intimate relationship advice or threatening over and over to kill one another, he listened. He'd spent a little time in places like this. Mostly Tehran. Lagos. Few other spots. They were all quiet. But none of them really were. The longer you were in them, the more you could hear. Or feel. In the dark long enough, hearing and feeling sort of blended into one.
It was hard, with the bike and the drones, but he listened.
He was mostly interested in the owls.
He kept hearing them.
No trees.
No mice, he was pretty sure. Nowhere much to fly.
They'd stop. And then start again.
Sometimes far. Other times close.
Close enough to see.
But he never did.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis stared at Nitro for a good long while. Just simply stared at the man. "Do... Do you come with subtitles?" he asks, confusion thick in his voice, as he has absolutely no idea what Nitro just said. To the others, "I'm not someone who carries guns. The ones I have are mine and are very important for not being dead. But they'll drop almost anything that bleeds." Of course to note, that he he seemed to have very little of nothing on himself, other than a slight bulge around one arm for those who were very good at seeing. Then of course his medkit.
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 45th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
the flamboyant runner barks a laugh at the comment. "Well lessjus' say no' all o' us 'ad opper'unity fer fancy schoolin' in pro-nun-cia-tion. I learn' wha I nee'ed te survive, an thrive onna streets. Go' enou' schoolin ter cover me bassi's, bu' learnin' te 'andle a car a' spee' over blac' ice or pullapar' an' reassem'le an engine bloc' 'as jussbeen more impor'ant."
He listens to the constant back and forth and bickering with a bemused shake of his head. He didn't understand it, it was pointless, all of it. They just needed to focus on the job at hand rather than getting all emotional, all that was going to do was cloud their judgement. "Phe, you sayn' i'll give 'im some'in te love for.. Issay 'is gonnabe thin'in' too much o' daydreamin' abou' some sapp' fuckin' las' stan' or raissin' a ki' or some shi' instea' o' focussin' o' tha job a' han'... which righ' now is gettin' tha fuck ou'a 'is place!" He doesn't even notice he's using the assault shotgun as a pointer to Goodnight and Isaint. "An' 'en you two bickerin' li'e a pai' o' spurn' fuckin' lo'ers! Ye, go'a storry an ye go'a storry a guess wha' we all gosta a fuckin' storry an none o' i' ma'ers a fuckin' pigs far' down 'ere. We suposse' ta be fuckin pro'essionals fer fucks sa'e! Righ' now were ac'in' jussli'e those fuckin' shi'ass tri'eos than dunno fuckin' drec' abou' wha' we really do." Throughout all this, the rigger's voice is flat, he's not raging or shouting, there's not a whole lot of any emotion in his voice.
Having said his peace he goes back to watching and listening, the milspec shotgun ready, waiting for their next move.
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
The changeling technomancer stands there, trying to process what the flamboyant runner is saying, before looking to the others. "Please.. Anyone? Can I get someone to translate what he's saying?" he asks exasperated. "I think I heard him say Montly Crew with my matrix hearing."
Tobbis wasn't much more schooled than Nitro was, perhaps even less. But when you can download feeds for just about anything, things begin to get a lot easier. But the Rigger's accent is unlike anything he has ever heard before... or wait. Perhaps it wasn't. Pulling up information on one of the two-dimensional monster movies the changeling watched, he turns to Nitro. "Vallowin' een esh granfadda's vootsheps?"
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 46th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
Goodnight blinks, once, as Nitro goes off on his oddly even-tempered tirade. Her brow furrows, and another hot retort rises to her lips, something about needing drive, and a reason to put one foot in front of the other even down here in the dark, and how depression can kill as fast as distraction in this line of work. A scathing rejoinder on his lack of humanity follows in her mind, and Goodnight's perfect mouth opens to give it all voice.
Then the sweet little mutant cuts in, and all of Goodnight's anger is walled off behind intense concentration as she fights not to collapse into a fit of the giggles. When he twitches his head for a second and then cuts in with what is absolutely the best bad German accent she's ever heard, something straight out of an old trid about the Flux State, it only gets worse and for a moment all she can do is clamp her mouth shut and vibrate in place as she stifles her laughter.
After a few seconds, she gets it under control and glances to her side at Natasha. The teen looks confused, and scared, and that sobers Goodnight instantly. What must she think of them, fighting and arguing and carrying on? They are the girl's only hope of survival, and in that second she seems as afraid of them as she is of the darkness around them, her cheeks tight and her eyes hooded, lit by her borrowed contacts.
Goodnight is suddenly calm enough to chill helium, and she rests a hand on Natasha's shoulder. "Peace, child. Its alright. Emotions run high in our line of work. A cost of being so high-strung, I am afraid, and even an argument is better than dwelling on the dark around us. Do not fear. It will not impact our ability to keep you and your family safe. It is a passing moment, nothing more."
The moment of anger past, Goodnight strives not to make a liar out of herself. Instead, she considers Nitro, who seems a flamboyant, fun-loving, gregarious sort. What would cause him to snap so, even if it was incredibly mild compared to her and Isaint's combative arguing? She looks at him, and sees nothing that calls her obvious attention. He seems the typical thrill junkie, the big gun and fast car and drek-hot armor, the hair, the drones...he's the perfect poster child for a Shadowrunner from the streets, what the trids would call a "Mohawk."
It isn't until she shifts her perception to the Astral that Goodnight sees the big, big holes he's ripped in his essence, in his basic humanity. She's intrigued, but horrified. Such extensive augmentations, and no signs of force to mark them. The only person she's seen with more chrome is Dolly, Victoria's friend, and her cyberware didn't come by choice.
Goodnight's horror is writ on her lovely features, but only for the barest of seconds before she shudders once, then shifts back to her pleasant, meaningless "working face." Venturing forward in silence now, Goodnight concentrates on the darkness in front of them, her eyes straining. As far as she knows, no one has been this deep into the catacombs in months. Her fuschia orbs flick back and forth, tracking every shadow.
Something isn't right.
Goodnight hears the strange hooting sounds, but odd noises are so common Below that she doesn't really register them as out of place.
What causes her skin to crawl is the skittering.
Its only barely there, a faint sound at the edge of hearing, a series of tiny little taps somewhere in the dark, in the walls. Like devil rats, maybe. Only...
The walls aren't hollow, except for the burial alcoves.
Goodnight shudders again, listens again, but now she can't shake the image of a skeletal finger, tapping the nervous rhythm of the living heartbeats so close by, approaching all unwitting.
Click click. Click click. Click click. Clickclickclickclickclick.
Silence.
-
The Frenchman couldn't refrain a grin when Goodnight started her tirade. Whether verbally launching at him or ISaint, all he had in his mind were lustful thoughts and passionate ideas. She was a beautiful specimen. For all he remembered -and that was very little - it was the first time today he had met a Dryad, and she was up to the name. But just as Solo had mentioned very emotional too.
He leaned toward ISaint's and whispered. Fiesty... you did pissed her off pretty bad. Impressive.
Unaware of her messaging the Human-looking Ork, he addressed the small issue. Du calme, Milady. Nothing wrong with your voice, au contraire, sounds like a sweet serenade to me. But the yapping about girlfriends, love triangles, and Solo's grating voice, now that's annoying. There's a time for everything, Let's take care of the therapy sessions once we put everyone in a safe place. Deal? Maybe you and I can talk about it all over a bottle of wine, what do you say?
He was not expecting any answer. Or rather, he was, but not very willing to listen to it now. Anyone with an good eye for body language and firearm expertise could have notice that the Frenchman had surreptitiously shifted his stance to hide from view his arm holding his gun down his body but allowing for a quick firing should the need arise. Between Solo's message about Goodnight's emotional instability, her burst of anger toward ISaint and most importantly her drawing her gun, he was on the lookout.
Boy, I did miss something down the Dock. He continued to whisper to ISaint.
Then he witnessed Goodnight and Solo arming the girl with probably more firepower than he had! he softly shook his head. He disagreed with the process, but refrained from commenting and creating more rift between the team members. He caught the eyes of the boy William who was staring at his pistol, after her sister had been handed a sub machine gun. Don't even think of it, kid.
The Frenchman moved away proceeding to continue down the Catacombs with his loud delegation, his senses in full alert
-
Goodnight keeps walking and the silence is longer this time. Finally, when she speaks, her tone is low and sad. "Family. My sister." The words are lead-heavy. "I could have left her above, but she has a...medical condition. She could have tried to lead a normal life in the light, but she needs someone who cares for her, who understands. Acceptance isn't enough, and I'm the only family she has. I could have left her to her life, but then if anything happened I could never have lived with myself. So we talked." One corner of Goodnight's mouth curls up in a sardonic half-smile. "She thought the idea was great, of course. She's a teenager. The shadows sound so romantic at that age. So we walked. She chose a person who loves her and a life of excitement and danger over a life of...nothing. Fighting her condition, worrying about a...relapse, trying to get by. At least down here she has something to live for."
Solo say: "Yes i am used to feeling under augmented around runners, but just because they can hear it anyhow - doesn't mean you need to shout it, but never-mind that, you are clearly upset and I clearly do not value much what people think about me."
...
Solo said “I think that in your case it is the other way around. Your love to her drags you deeper and deeper into the shadows. You already reached a point where everything is a weapon, everything is a mean to an end - even a smile or a lick on the lips as you’d say it.
I also had a medical condition, still suffer from it actually... It is called being an awakened elf. It was a big issue at the time, and the fact that raging spirits appeared every time I was under physical stress did not help to convince people that i am a person. I was nothing more than a demon an alien or god know what. He takes up his sleeve to reveal a serial number tattoo ‘TS - 24601’. That's who I was for a long time - test subject 24601. I never did any sort of cosmetics like you, I know i can easily take it off, but it just do not feel right.
First they tried to find a ‘cure’, then they tried to clone magic and weaponize it. I think this this is how HMHVV was rediscovered." He sighs "Sometimes the only cure is acceptance, but acceptance takes a lot of mistakes to achieve"
He pulls down his sleeve - some people are just born in the shadows - "you are lucky to be young. Had you been as old as me, you too would have a 'medical condition'. You should come riding with us - it will make you feel alive, bring your sister with you - I bet she does not get out much.”
M said in the astral to preserve Goodnight’s privacy “So she is the one that feeds on you? can it be?”
-
Unaware of her messaging the Human-looking Ork, he addressed the small issue. Du calme, Milady. Nothing wrong with your voice, au contraire, sounds like a sweet serenade to me. But the yapping about girlfriends, love triangles, and Solo's grating voice, now that's annoying. There's a time for everything, Let's take care of the therapy sessions once we put everyone in a safe place. Deal? Maybe you and I can talk about it all over a bottle of wine, what do you say?
Solo smiles at Frenchman, "my girlfriend saved our asses in the hotel, she distracted a mage and allowed us to sneak Rachel in peace. In that spiritual ambush, she took two of the spirits on her own. But please, feel free to refer to her as nothing more than an annoying distraction" He bows gently and let the two talk for a while.
-
The Frenchman only replied to Solo with a wink. What it all meant was up to interpretation. Tension diffuser, tease, challenge, only Solo would have to decide.
-
I am called M, I don't believe we have met before. Said M with a soft and clearly feminine voice. She extended Solo's hand.
-
Goodnight's spine stiffens as M asks her question.
Oh god no. Oh please not here.
But lying in the astral is nearly impossible, not when there are so many visual cues that a person simply cannot control. The second Melisa gave voice to her damning question, that ship set sail. Goodnight's aura flashes and swirls in a storm of emotions, answering just as clearly as if she'd spoken aloud for those who can read it, and Goodnight knows that she might as well speak.
Goodnight holds her silence as Solo and The Frenchman spar, returning the accented 'runner's offer to talk things out with a curt nod, and flashing Solo a grin as he defends Melisa.
Finally, once Melisa introduces herself to the Frenchman, Goodnight answers. Her astral "voice" is very tight and her shoulders are hunched, as if against a coming blow. She doesn't look around, seeming completely focused on the way ahead. "Yes," Goodnight says, knowing that everyone else who is astrally perceiving will hear her, "my sister is the one."
-
Meisa whispers softly... "I sensed it when I met you, you are a critter of love, passion and sacrefice. There is no shame in that " Her aura gives the mage an equivalence of an astral hug.
When the Franchman arrives she ads "...and you make men go wild.... whats not to like?"
-
Most wouldn't have caught it, but he's seen it so many times, that sickened look so many mages get when they look at him. He'd had a few of them enplane it to him, the damage caused to his Essence by his augmentations. To most mages it was a horrifying idea, something about the link between their magical ability and their Essence... but he's also known a few augmented mages int he past, those few who manage to strike the right balance between technology and magic can become terrifyingly powerful.
None the less he nods, and grins slightly to Goodnight. "Ya, I'm augmen'ed, 'eavily so. A price one mus' pay te clim' to tha to' o' the riggin' game, an' one I ain' regre'ed payin'. Hear' some say thayse surprise' I'm s'ill func'ional with all me augmen's. Didnna know wha' 'til I go' tha genewor' done. 'ey 'ad te analy'e my DNA o' cou'se, tu'ns ou' some'in' in me DNA ma'es me more... compa'ible wi' cyberne'ics. Well, mosso 'en mos' people anyway. Ne'er un'ers'ood why more o' ye ma'e ty'es don' ge' augmen's, I've wor'ed wi', an' agains', augmen'ed ma'es affore, no' one te 'e ta'en ligh'ly."
He gives the changeling an utterly confused look then just shakes his head and move on, his head constantly moving, trying to pinpoint sounds beyond the hearing of his companions. He notices Goodnight's shudder. "Ye 'earin summin as well? Try lissin te infra an ul'ra sonni' as well... a righ' fraggin' messoa pla'e this is. 'ill... summin' no' righ'...ye go annykinna dire'ions ye wor'in from? Mossai's wor'less wi'out 'trix access bu' me orien'a'ion sys'em shoul' 'elp us kee' in tha righ' derrec'ion."
-
To Isaint, Goodnight sends a private message. <<Look. This is getting us nowhere. You think I'm a flighty, hypocritical girl and I think you're a bloodthirsty asshole. That's not likely to change anytime soon. After this, we can have it out. Frankly, I'd like to beat the tar out of you, and I suspect that you want to do the same to me. You're welcome to try if you think you're hard enough. But in the meantime, here's a little food for thought.
1. The only weapon I've seen you use is an armor-piercing, high-caliber weapon that can discorporate a spirit in a single burst. That is, by definition, lethal. So don't get on your high horse about an arsenal I haven't seen.
2. I haven't apologized for a goddamn thing, and I'm not going to. I don't even know where the hell that part is coming from. Its not violence I condemn, its bigoted, nonsensical violence born out of ignorance or fear. I never claimed to be a peace-loving hippy. But I assess and respond to threats and circumstances on an as-needed basis. Sometimes, yes, killing is what you need. Sometimes torture. But not always, and needlessly causing pain when there is no reason to cuts against every grain I have. I'm a dryad. Cruelty, pain, and negative influences physically affect me.
3. My notions of you are entirely based on what you have said, and a great deal of hard-won experience with violent, hate-filled legbreakers. If you don't like being ascribed cultural norms, then maybe don't play into them quite so damned much.
4. You don't know a thing about me. While we're leveling accusations of hypocrisy, I'd like to point out that you have no idea where my notions and thoughts come from. You're being just as judgmental and hypocritical as I, and for the same reasons.
4. Talk down to me like I'm just a pretty piece of ass again, and I will leave you down here. Yes, I'm pretty. Yes, I'm emotional. Yes, I'm a grrrrl. I'm also one of the most puissant mages down here, a 'runner in my own right, and perfectly capable of holding my own in a fight. If you don't believe me, start something and I promise I'll finish it. Just so we're absolutely clear.>>
Isaint almost had replied immediately, but he stopped himself. It was a chance to explain his point of view much more clearly, maybe even define some expressions.
First he answered the Frenchman:
"That you did. It was a pretty intense fight with four spirits sent after the good Doctor. My agent might have a recording from my smartgun if you are interested."
While the others continued their bickering, Isaint composed a text for Goodnight:
[spoiler=wall of text]<<First of all, no. I have no desire to do you harm. I don't lust for violence or blood. I am a warrior, not a psychopath.
1. You only saw me fight against a bunch of powerful manifested spirits. They can't be killed on our plane, so no - it was still less than lethal. I always try to use an appropriate response. Someone shooting with SnS or gel at me can expect me to retaliate in kind. Even if they use worse but aren't armored enough to withstand those less lethal weapons I will try to preserve their lives. Nevertheless I don't fuck around: I deal with threats as fast as possible. But I don't attack to kill from ambush - especially not against unarmed opponents.
2. You apologized your learning a torture spell, you apologized the behavior of vampires hunting people they deem unworthy to live.
You say they hunt criminals that deserve to die, but you don't stop to ask who made them judge, jury and executioner - and if they have that right, why should not another have the same right to judge them for those murders. I am not saying that there is no moral behavior in those vampires actions - that depends on the specific cases. But I question the purity of their motives. They want to satiate their hunger first and foremost - who can say if they always acted with due diligence, always attacked only those who really deserved to die? If even one of their victims was innocent they are murderers - plain and simple. And if one of the victim's friends or family ask me to stop such an individual to protect them and their community... Well, how can you justify that the live of this vampire - that acted like a monster by attacking innocents - should be preserved?
This is a specific case, but I stand by my definition of monster: Be it meta human, beast or infected: If you cast aside the basic tenets of society to sate your base desires you no longer are part of society and you don't enjoy its protection. You are "vogelfrei". You can return to the benefits of society - but only if you also atone and share the burdens. Such is the price.
Last but not least, you apologized the behavior of those spirits. You say they were forced to attack us. That may be. But they had every freedom in how they fulfilled that mission. They could have applied less than lethal methods, they could have asked for surrender, they could have stayed in the astral or they could have requested honorable combat with champions on either side.
My point is: They had a choice and they chose to act with no regard for human life or our physical integrity. There is always a choice. And I suspect this fire spirit didn't become that strong by being a nice and loving personality. Much more likely, he reached this form by honing himself in the art of violence.
3. Again, you did ignore most of the qualifying clauses that I added. Also you seem to conflate hurt and harm. Hurting is unavoidable in our line of work: We break into secure facilities, we manipulate, sometimes we steal and sometimes we have to use force. All those are forms of hurt, be it reputation, ego or bruises to the body.
What I try to avoid is permanent harm: I don't shoot to cripple, I avoid drawing blood if I can. Again this is a qualifier: IF I CAN. There are times and situations, where I don't have the luxury to be lenient. An opponent in a mil spec armor can be brought down quickly only through a high grade of lethal force. I don't enjoy it, but if it is necessary to preserve those under my protection I will not hesitate.
Your comments on APDS were hilarious to me, because it sounded like I had any other choice while battling those spirits, when even a direct hit to this fire spirit merely slowed him down.
That brings me to the small matter of torture: This spirit was not tortured. He was free to move away. He was hurt, maybe even harmed temporarily. But at no time we deliberately kept him in a position where we forced him to endure pain.
I don't endorse torture - on the contrary. There might be times where it's application is excusable - e.g if it's the only available option to save the life of another person. And even than it's reprehensible.
4. Hypocrisy is defined as projecting and preaching a different conduct than you yourself attain to. I most certainly don't pretend to be anything else than I am and neither am I asking others to do as I say - tactical situations like this run notwithstanding (you know what I mean).
So again, no: I am no hypocrite.
And yes, I only know what you yourself have told me about you and how you acted. Based on this I formed my opinion as I have explained above. As I said before: We judge ourselves by our intentions but others by their deeds. I'm no more free of this bias than you.
5. Should I have called you ugly instead? That would not have been true. You are beautiful and you work hard to present a pretty exterior - don't act as if that wasn't part of your person as a runner. And I don't talk down to you more than you talk down to me. I am not free emotions as much as you. So don't lay every expression on the gold scales. Especially not if you yourself use language to diminish my standing among my peers.
Last but not least: I did not imply that you could not hold your own in a fight. Although I do admit that I am uncomfortable to see young women in the line of fire. But that has nothing to do with their capabilities, but everything with how my instincts to protect are wired.>>[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
The tensions continue to rise as the group descend further under London. Perhaps spurred on by the bickering of the runners the family begin to pick up on the vibes in this place and it isn’t long before the children, despite warnings from the Doc, begin to squabble – and words like fragging slut, directed at Natasha, are some of the nicer ones being bandied about…
Suddenly the group pause, a trick of the acoustics perhaps, but music fills the tunnels and they realise that it has been there for a few moments almost imperceptibly but is now suddenly louder. There are two separate tunes competing, one happy lilting trill and a more mournful counterpointe that weaves in and out of the main tune…
As the group cautiously emerge onto a wider passage Tobbis’ eSense lights up with the presence of wifi devices approaching and a quick scan reveals ‘links, smartguns and more, all running quite openly, probably in the certain knowledge that there is nothing else down here with the ability to interfere with them…and then everyone feels it… a sudden wash of calm and peace emanating from the source of the music, an invisible lightening of the mood and atmosphere. For those capable of deeper awareness the astral is both being temporarily cleansed and some form of emotional manipulation spell is weaving its fronds about the group.
***
Around the corner of the dark basalt tunnel a light blooms, revealing in stark shadows the yawning openings that house the dead…or their crumbling dusty remains at least…it dances around, flashing as whatever source bounces about, and then a lithe figure comes into view…it vaults towards the ceiling and in a gravity defying leap seems almost to dance across the ceiling before coming down in a crouch facing Isaint. It is clad in a skin tight body glove with streamers and other fripperies that settle to stillness slightly after the body becomes motionless. A weird half mask reminiscent of Venetian balls hides its face and it bears a fragging glaive, hilt extended towards the group…
***
Behind the first dancer three more figures pirouette to stillness, and their apparent leader glides behind them, feet some ten centimetres off the ground. They are all similarly clad in bright skin suits, painted face masks and bear an assortment of arms. The music is coming from one figure that caresses a high end cyberdeck to its chest, speakers projecting the taunting tune towards the group…
***
The leader speaks, and you can see as she doffs the hood of her cloak that she has some kind of strange helmet that bears three faces, which might account for the three separate voices that the group can distinguish
“Greetings travellers. You are bound for the market, we will accompany you. Allow us to introduce ourselves… We are Hecate, the watcher, this one with the glaive is Wit, and behind me is Kiss, our warriors, Satire is our mime and Fortune, making this lovely music, is our muse…”
***
#32
-
Goodnight walks with her shoulders hunched against the backlash of her answer to Melisa's question. She knows several members of the team are awakened on some level, and it would be folly to think that none of them had heard her response and immediately connected the dots. She is not blind to the irony of being outed by a spirit, especially one that was only trying to preserve her secret and had inadvertently chosen the only medium in which she was not a manifestly skilled liar. She fears what Isaint will say, or what he'll do once he finds out, but she can't exactly just shout out her sister's secret.
Goodnight glances to her right, at Natasha. The teenager is walking with a bounce and swagger to her step, and it brings a smile to Goodnight's face despite her apprehension. She knows that look, that joy of acceptance. Goodnight and Solo had fostered it, giving her the clothes and the weapons and the magical enhancements of a shadowrunner, and treated her like an adult this whole time. Goodnight is sure that Al or Isaint would say they've made her a target, and dangerously overconfident, but she was already a target. As for overconfidence, well, every teenager has that, and while it might make Natasha prone to larger risks, freezing up in fear would kill her a lot faster. Better to take a stupid risk that might pay off than stand still and become a statistic written in blood.
When Isaint's message shows up, Goodnight scans it at the speed of thought. her contacts are currently gracing Natasha's eyes, but her alice band gives her DNI, so she can read the message anyway. She cocks her head, surprised at the mild tone and levelheadedness of it. She opens a window in her head to reply, but stops. Now isn't the time for another debate, and even though it might be a civilized one, unless she explains a few things to Isaint, it would just be another argument.
For a long moment, Goodnight walks in silence, contemplating. Then, finally, she shrugs. She likes Solo, and Nitro, and the dog-thing, and Melisa. She could be happy running with this crew, if they let her stay. But to do that, she had to build bridges, not burn them.
Goodnight begins composing another, longer message. A transition to complete rationality would be as suspicious as it is unbelievable, so she makes sure to lace her message with the proper amount of vitriolic invective, while still opening herself up to Isaint. Its a risk, sure, but on a level that Goodnight doesn't like admitting exists, she wants to tell her story, even in a brief form and to a person who may hate her for it. No one can exist completely outside normal human contact, and down here her closest friends are a mutant stripper, a free spirit shopkeeper, and a banshee. And her doctor is a ghoul.
<<Hey, bullet points! We're making progress, he can be taught! I want to debate you, but that's proving futile. If you want to continue the argument we're having, we can. It'll pass the time. But first, I want to tell you a story. Rough waters ahead, so bear with me. What I’m telling you is very private, but I’m telling you this because maybe, just maybe, it will enlighten you somewhat and save me some violence down the road. Even a superior, arrogant jackass gets three chances from me. What you do with this one is up to you. >>
Goodnight stops a moment to consider where to begin, then shrugs and just dives right in.
[spoiler=Goodnight's rather depressing and fairly dark story]<<I was born right here in London in 2053, in the Lambeth Containment Zone. By then, the LCZ was already hopeless, heavily contaminated, filled with genefreaks and experiments gone wrong, and magically polluted. I was born to a chiphead father and a junkie mother with a raging cram habit and poor impulse control. You can probably guess what my home life was like.
I got by, even as a kid. We were dirt poor and it wasn’t a happy home, but I survived.
My sister, Victoria, was born in 2058. She was homo sapiens nobilis, a normal elf. I was a dryad, and in the 2050’s, we were rarer than roc’s eggs, and there were all sorts of rumors about being able to bewitch people. As it turns out, those are kind of true, but that’s neither here nor there. She was the golden child, I was the freak, but I didn’t resent her even as a kid. Probably the last nice thing I would do for her until she was Natasha's age.
My old man bought it when I was fourteen. Bad BTL that fried his brain, turned him into a drooling vegetable. I found his meat when I came home from buying soymilk. My mother cursed him for an hour for leaving her stuck with us. Then she sold him- still breathing- to a ghoul den for cram and some petty cash. Then she got high as a kite and beat Vicki and me for the rest of the night. Like I said, life wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t in school by then, and wouldn’t become educated until much later. At the time, this was all I knew.
It would be another year before the night that three men burst into my bedroom and carried me out in zipcuffs and a black bag. Never said a word to me. I know now that they were Red Vory, and that my mother had sold me to them for more drugs and money. She was already in pretty bad health and a burnout addict, and I suspect they offered her a lot of money. It was a chance to get me off her hands, and she took it. Dryads were worth a lot back then. Still are, some places.
Two weeks and interminable abuse later, I was being unloaded from a shipping container into a Tarislar whorehouse run by the White Vory. We’ll skip the next four years, I’m sure you can figure it out. I’m still addicted to Eros- a little- and I’ve been clean off of Bliss for three years. I have nightmares, too, and flashbacks. At some point in there, I awakened, but I was scared of my talent. I was scared they’d hurt me even worse if they knew I had it, so I avoided it. I was genuinely afraid I was going to die in that place, and I still didn’t have the guts to try and get out. Compliance was all I knew.
I got out in 2072. As you may remember, not the best time to be running around Seattle all alone. Thankfully, I was lucky enough to not be alone. I was rescued from that hellhole by the Brat’Mael the Black Sun. They might be murderers, racists, and violent assholes, but to a teenage elf stuck in a Vory whorehouse, they’re the closest things to angels I could ask for. At the time I was too hurt and too blissed out to even stand, and the Black Sun were killing the Russians left and right, exacting retribution for being human and having the stones to imprison and pimp out elf girls in elf territory. A man with gunmetal eyes and a glossy black cyberarm carried me out all by himself. I passed out, but I remember the building burning down.
The man, who told me to call him Corby, took a shine to me. I don’t know why, and I don’t really care. He knew I was awakened before I really understood it myself, and he proceeded to spend the next three years “honing” me. He got me off the pills, mostly. He taught me, passed on experience and knowledge and training I could never have afforded on my own, and I did what I could in return. I was a good joygirl, I knew all the tricks for keeping clients happy so they wouldn’t hurt me, but he didn’t want a pet slut, he wanted something else. I think that I was the personification of that old saw about how, past a certain point, teaching is the only way to learn. So he taught.
And I learned. Magic, languages, martial arts, swordplay, wordplay, guns, chess, magical theory, lore, history…I got an accelerated education that is as good as any you would find in an ivy-league university. He was always teaching, even when we were doing other things, and when Corby wasn’t around, someone else would pick it up, or there would be a stack of tutorsofts next to the bed when I got back to the apartment I shared with Angel.
Corby was as vile and black as they come, though. My magic is dark stuff, rooted in his belief in the Dark Trinity, Badb, Macha, and Morrigan. The spells I know kill or maim, or make it easier for me to do so, or inflict terrible pain. It was what he knew, and by extension it is what I know. He remade me into his image, a darkly elegant weapon that would look pretty in the light but kill you just as dead in the dark.
And I was excellent at it. By the end of my tenure with Corby, I was less a favored pet or a foundling apprentice and more a lieutenant. I fought and bled and killed and fucked for him and his goals. I racked up a body count you couldn’t total up on all your extremities together, and I hurt a lot more. I took a street name- Macha, after the goddess- and for months I let him use me for his own ends.
I loved it.
Then, one day, Corby was gone. Just gone, without a single word of goodbye. Just a case containing a mageblade, a certified credstick with ten kay on it, and a one way ticket to London. Without Corby, I was an outsider again, tainted by my association with the one elf the Laesa tolerated but didn’t patch in, so I took the money and the weapon and I left, coming home. I was proud of myself, I had power and intelligence and beauty and money. I wanted to show off, I wanted to be the white knight on the rearing charger that would carry my sister away from the LCZ and into a better life.
My old home was still smoking when I arrived.
The neighborhood told the story in bits and pieces, greased by money, a few favors, and a couple of well-placed threats. The Vory had hit, taken the girl- my sister- and left the mother to die in the fire. To this day I don’t know why they waited for years to exact vengeance on my family for the attack, or why they leveled it at me at all. Maybe my association with the Brat’mael had made me guilty in their eyes, and they only struck once I no longer had their support, but the Vory soldier I “talked to” did confirm it was a mission of revenge, rather than being motivated purely by profit.
I began searching the next day. I got a shitty little studio in Soho and started looking for Vicki. The nuyen Corby had left for me disappeared in record time as I chased down leads and searched for answers. I must have hit every bar, whorehouse, bunraku parlor, and smuggler in London. I was penniless when I finally got a lead, and my search had slowed as I fought to support myself. Just as in Seattle, I tortured and killed and whored myself out and committed crimes great and small all across the city, searching for information and the means with which to use it when I found it, and while it was hardly pleasant, find it I did, after more than half a year of searching.
When I finally got to where I’d heard Victoria might be, all I found were bodies, torn apart by main force, clustered in a bedroom. My sister was there, chained to an empty bedframe in an apartment in Spitalfields, a plaything for the idle rich. She was pale and cold, and had bite marks on her inner thigh, her hip, and her neck.
I’m sure you’ve guessed before now how this story goes. I’m also sure you would have killed her in my place. But I couldn’t. Call me weak if you must.
I had no money, only my skills at magic, violence, and deception, and now a temporarily dead girl who was going to wake up scared, hurt, and thirsty.
I’m sure if you look around, you can figure out why I went Below. I’d heard stories, read articles. I was fairly certain I could hack it down here. And when your little sister has become a vampire because you weren’t there to protect her, you do anything you can for her. So I came down here, to the lightless places. I took out a huge loan with the Iron Tolltakers, enough to pay for a new life for the two of us. God help me if I default on it, but the risk was worth the reward.
Yes, my sister is a Banshee. She has been for almost a year now. Yes, she drinks blood and burns if exposed to UV-A. Yes, she’s a killing machine, an awakened predator remade on a cellular level to be able to, naked and empty-handed, match you or I on our best day with all of our tricks and enhancements. You know what else she is? She’s a dancer. She wants to go to Wellesley for an M.M from their awakened artist program. She worries about boys and girls, she likes old movies, and she even condescends to play chess with me sometimes.
She’s only ever fed from one person; me, before you ask, every two weeks. Its twisted, I know. Believe me, I know, but she needs blood and I have it to give. The things I do to make sure that I can survive her predations are frequently awful, but that is my cross to bear, not hers, and I'll never tell her what I do for her, and neither will anyone else if they know what's good for them. She has never been anything but a cheerful, pretty, pleasant young woman, trying to have as normal a life as she can. But if she went above and word got around what she was, she’d be dead inside of a week. You’ll have to excuse me if I have a bit of a fucking complex about prejudice and HMHVV.
So there you have it, the whole sad story. I never claimed not to be a monster, Isaint. I am what experience has made me, as is my sister. Nothing more, nothing less. I am a killer, a torturer, a career criminal. I care about spirits and broken girls because I have learned firsthand about their pain. I am not like you. I don’t fight to win. I fight to kill, to draw blood, to feel the rush and thrill of combat. I am so emotional and flighty and girlish because the other version of me, the one hidden behind frivolity and sex and casual talk of relationships and debates on the nature of spirits, is Macha, and she is orders of magnitude more dangerous and repulsive. I want to be good for my sister, and that fact is all that keeps large portions of my former life locked away.
And just to add the necessary boilerplate, if you so much as harm one hair on her head or cause her to be harmed because of her condition, I will move heaven and earth to kill you. Don’t feel special, this applies to everyone. But I feel that with you must explicitly spell out that if she is hurt and I find you are connected to it, there won’t be enough left of you to fill a soykaf cup. Are we reading from the same page, omae?>>[/spoiler]
Her story told, Goodnight continues walking, looking straight ahead. Because of this, she is not taken completely by surprise when the strange masked acrobats come calling, and though her posture changes and she is suddenly hyperalert, she manages to refrain from immediate violence. She examines them, briefly, as the leader speaks, searching their masks and clothes and gear and auras for anything that will jog her memory.
Almost on autopilot, Goodnight's mouth opens and she says in flawless Sperethiel, "We are pleased to meet you, oh Troupe. We are humbled by your presence and your lovely performance, both in music and physicality. We are Goodnight," she gestures at herself, using the plural because she has a feeling that these types will see her spirits and understand before saying, "However, we are not empowered to give away the names of our companions. The music of their persons is for them to play and them alone." One hand rises up of its own accord to rest on Natasha's shoulder, part reassurance, part protection, and ready to fling her to the ground should the need arise.
-
Al had been around the world and seen a lot of strange things, but then he started taking these sorts of gigs and his life had begun a rapid downward spiral into whole new levels of crazy. But it had been maybe a year now since he'd started dabbling in this sort of work, and he'd thought he might finally be getting his head around the weirdness level.
And then a troupe of armed mimes came skipping out from among the crypts and he was back to square one.
He didn't know if they were friend or foe, but he figured their meeting down here was no coincidence. He didn't reckon these sorts made cavorting in the catacombs part of their daily routine. And he was sure - in his bones - that no one dressed up like that unless they expected an audience. No way they just hung around their kitchens eating beans on toast done up like that. No, they'd come here dressed to impress.
And if their corporate hunters had needed to find a pack of proxies to continue the chase into this saints-forsaken place, these wackos would fit the bill perfectly.
He had just put himself between them and Mrs. Pelletiere and was starting to plan his best move in response to various things these freaks might try, when his mind sort of went blank. How could he think about hurting them when they were so obviously just a happy-go-lucky band of merry free-souls, out for a charnel house promenade?
But that felt wrong too. He shook his head, trying to get it straight...
-
Solo approaches the new comers, with a dash of style. He is almost dancing - clearly not in any known battle stance. He connects to his inner poet, Poetry . Poetry was never an elite runner like /\/\491( or Nonsense. However, he had is charm and was useful when the latter two were too hot to run. Thous that worked with Poetry report that the guy is fearless, while only a mediocre poet he can approach a dragon and sing - and often people that are not initially hostile find that it is difficult to remain hostile to Poetry. Somehow - it works for him or so he likes to believe.
"Greeting powerful strangers with a beautiful muse,
today you are lucky as we are in a good mood,
our spirits are up and the matrix we are blowing.
noise compensation gets our drones going.
We gathered here,
men of talent and skill,
muscle and zeal,
For a goal that is trivial
and yet not unachievable
To tell a story with
hope and despair,
a love affair,
of passion and pain,
loss and gain
At the end we sing,
our purses are full of jing.
To the shadows we go,
hidden from sight
and forgotten from heart
until Mr. Johnson is in need of the art."
He bows,
and introduces himself. We go by more than one name, but currently we are Solo and M,
or SaM .
If you liked our poem - please leave us to roam.
Do not delay - our trip to Widows bay.
We gave you some fun and mean you no harm so please cancel your wonderful charm.
People always resent a spell that their thoughts intercept.
[spoiler]
Some rolls -
resist mental manipulation (http://orokos.com/roll/312846): 16d6t5 2
no good altough to Solo's defense hostility is a last resort.
He helps Goodnight get with good relations with the strangers with his own ettiqute skills.
Ettiquete (http://orokos.com/roll/312844): 14d6t5 4
He gives her 4 additional dice
Ettiquete bonus dice (http://orokos.com/roll/312845): 4d6t5 2
and two additional successes (So Goodnight has 7 successes) .
[/spoiler]
-
No...something had to be wrong - there was Solo dancing and spouting poetry. Sure, he'd let the she-spirit mount him, but this? They must be controlling him somehow...
Hah!
Just a matter of shaking the cobwebs out.
Al kind of pitied these cartoonish underdweller keebs. They'd picked the wrong Southern boy to try their damned charms on.
He congratulated himself on his iron will and mental purity.
And now that he'd thrown off their dweomer, he felt downright peaceful.
-
206? - IDI development center in Herzliya.
The first kill in a rampage of revenge was Shira, his lover the one that elevated him from being nothing more than a test subject to a citizen of IDI. Who later became his lover who trained him as both a decker and a mage. But she wasn’t who she said she was. The evidence was undeniable - he chased all his professional life over a ghost of a hacker. The one that made their capture possible. They were an happy little awakened family - living off grid hiding from the terrible fate. But this decker IT - she managed to find them and then the nightmares begined. He spent his entire life hunting this IT where in fact she was right in front of him. Unimpressive, plain very sick lady that could barely stand up straight. She was the one that started it all, when all deckers used technology and failed she used magic and disguised it as technology.
There weren’t many decker mages at the time - it had to be her the age was a perfect fit, she was in the same place.
Tom had no regrets when he murdered her, there was not much she could have done, her physical shape was so bad and she was already slowly dying from exposure to some horror bio weapon. As blood was pouring out of her corpse Tom improvised a poem for her.
“To my first lover,
I know you are cruel,
you broke my heart
now who is the fool?
You lied about your age,
Not 24, but 42.
42 and a mage.
Do you now see it through?
Chaos is my lover,
I do not need more prof
you killed my mother
and now you go poof. “
I am sorry Tom... I meant to tell you... but I just couldn’t I knew it would kill you. I tried to make up for it, I was ambitious I wanted to get ahead of my game... Please forgive me, forgive yourself. “
That day, Poetry was born - Tom could only kill people while reciting poetry - somehow if it rhymed it was ok. His terrible vengeance dance was long there were more people to kill and not much time. That incredibly sexy runner that delivered him the envelop started a chain of events that changed his entire life. He will never be the same person. He spent his whole life trying to overcome the mental scars, suppress the anger, the fear learn how to trust people again. It was all a lie - the only redemption for him was if anyone that ever hurt him is dead.
-
Nitro was glad things where starting to simmer down, between the group at least anyway. Their charges where bickering but that wasn't his problem, he was being paid to protect and transport, not sort out their family feuds.
Then the music started, of all the odd things he'd expected to hear down here, this wasn't one of them, and it was definitely the oddest. It was sweeping and melodic, calm and soothing. Not at all like the frenetic eltromixes he listened to... but it was good, calmed his nerves.
He could see everyone else was calm as well, even with that guy spinning a glave around. Goodnight was was calm and respectful and Solo seemed to be improvising poetry everything was... wrong. It wasn't just the music, there was.. something else, tugging at him, calming him, soothing him entwined with the music making it hard for him to... focus, the music and magic worming around in his head. No, not his head! he's not going to be puppeted around like some headcase!
"get... out... O'... MY... HEAD!"
The flamboyant rigger roars the final word, his armor, hair and eyes flaring brighter as he shatters the spell's hold on him. He raises his shotgun into a ready position, the drone flying up out of easy reach, the ugly muzzle of the M202 leveled at the troupe. There's no sense of hair trigger violence, but it's clear that he's on guard and ready to act if needed.
"Alrigh' ye wanna talk? We'll talk, af'er ye sto' messin'aroun' wi' ou' 'eads."
-
Goodnight doesn't say a word to Nitro as he roars and loses his shit. With a glance at Natasha to make sure she isn't about to fly off the handle, she takes her hand from the girl's shoulder and murmurs, "Don't worry. Everything will be fine." Then she steps in front of Nitro's gun muzzle.
Facing Nitro, Goodnight looks calm and poised and utterly unworried. Her eyes are concerned, but they show neither fear nor any trace of her earlier horror as she meets Nitro stare for stare. Slowly, she shakes her head and mouths, "Please..." At the same time, she sends Nitro a blazingly fast message, keeping the conversation private. At this range, even the interference of the tunnels is no matter, and it only takes a few seconds to get it written and sent.
<<Nitro, no! There's no need for that. Look, we don't know what or who they are, but we know they're armed, fast, and quiet. I can also tell you that several of them are awakened, and they've got at least one decker by the looks of things. That's bad news, and I'll bet those costumes are armored unless they're total idiots. You're cybernetically fast, I know this. You can get your gun into firing position in no time at all, so there is no need to point it at them right now and provoke them. At best, they could be allies that can help us out of here. At worst, they're a team just as competent and well-equipped as we are, in which case fighting them will get a lot of people killed. And may I remind you that Natasha is up front, and Solo, and while you and I are out from under their spell, those two may not be, and thus may not be able to get out of the way of a crossfire? Please, Nitro, just lower the gun a little. For me? Please? I'll make it up to you, I promise.>>
She smiles gently at Nitro and holds his gaze even as her head turns slightly to call out, still in Sperethiel, "We apologize for our companion's conduct. We are afraid his chord is more dissonant than ours or yours, and it has being a trying symphony thus far for us all."
-
His flaming blue eyes watching Goodnight for a couple of long moments, sending an encrypted message back.
Nitro to Goodnight <<I'm a rigger, not a street sam, much of my augments are about improving my piloting skill. So yes my spine is enhanced, but I've not undergone the more extreme treatments. I'm sure you can understand why someone like me hates having their mind messed with right now. Still, this is your turf.>>
Finally he nods, relaxing his stance and lowering the shotgun into a low ready position, the drone also stands down, but stays up out of easy reach. He frowns slightly, obviously thinking hard before he responds again, speaking slowly and carefully, taking the time to form his words properly.
"Those of us whose voices have joined with machines are most weary of the ghost of another joining the song, it can create a powerful discord that replace the music with that of another. If I have disrupted the harmony it is only to ensure my own song is not replaced."
[spoiler]Do a roll to try and smooth things over.
Etiquette 4 + Charisma 3
Etiquette check (http://orokos.com/roll/312914): 7d6t5 2 hits
Not the best, but no glitch at least and Nitro is a long way from being a face.[/spoiler]
-
Holy moley - now everyone was talking like a bunch of flower children.
Al had a pretty good mellow on, but he'd be damned if he was going to start yammering in Spock-speak about joining in the mystical rainbow singalong.
He was glad Nitro had also resisted the sorcery, though.
It wouldn't do to have these freaks in their heads.
No matter how peaceful their intentions clearly were.
-
Isaint was silent as he read the - quite extensive - reply. His mask showed an impassive face while a host of different emotions boiled beneath - just to be replaced by a certain serenity.
That explained quite a lot - not everything mind you - but enough.
While he thought he activated his newly purchased app: Theme Music. After the algorithm had accessed all data it could find including the bio-monitor it began to play. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYy901WgYKY)
He composed an answer:
[spoiler]
<<Thanks for your trust - I won't betray it.
Also your sister has nothing to fear from me if you aren't mistaken - she is still an innocent.
I don't judge you. That is not my job.
We might meet as enemies one day - but only if you try to hurt those under my protection.
For what you feel for your sister is the essence of my patron's being: He is the older brother looking out for his siblings and he is the one who takes a stand.
And so do I, nothing more, nothing less.>>
[/spoiler]
Just as he had decided to send the message, the clowns appeared. The music changed instantly (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nboXrQLfBhA)
Isaint's first reaction was to reach for his handgun, but something like a cobweb descended upon his thoughts. For a few heartbeats he struggled against the intrusion, but the spell was to strong. An eerie artificial calm overcame him and he let his arm sink empty handed. The music changed again (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RdknF55pFQk).
Clowns, why did it have to be clowns. He really, really didn't like clowns. And now Solo seemed to have lost his marbles. Had he been hit with a different spell?
Then Nitro flew of his handle and his hand automatically went back under his coat, but much slower than normally. He wasn't sure if it was the result of the spell or the shock of hearing Nitro speak in perfectly understandable English.
Just to stop staring at the newcomers he said:
"I am called Isaint. Do you guarantee safe passage for our group? We are not looking for trouble, but being hexed like this does raise certain concerns regarding your intentions. This would do more for our disposition towards you then the false peace you laid upon us."
#108
-
As SaM dance around, something very odd happens - a crowed appears and the entire team is cloned multiple times. The result is a tightly knit cheering crowd that is composed of multiple versions of each person in the team. Everyone are clapping their hands in excitement crying. Poetry! Poetry! Poetry!. Fake Natasha and Rachel are even throwing fake flowers at SaM.
SaM bows multiple times before the cheering crowd around him. Saying "thanks! I love you all!"
."This is kind of an ego boost " thought M.
"I hope it is going to confuse the heck out of them, just in case they want to hurt us... besides it was a tough crowd, Nitro took his gun out and Al... he seemed completely uninterested in Poetry... can't disappoint my inner poet." Thought Solo.
[spoiler]
Solo cast trid phantasm F5, and set the limit to 10 with reagents.
Trid phantasem (limit set with reagents) (http://orokos.com/roll/312992): 16d6t5 8
wow good roll Solo!
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/312993): 15d6t5 4
no drain taken. (so far just 1 drain from summoning M).
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
The female called Satire laughs, a musical sound that sends tingles through the group’s collective erogenous zones, but it is the one called Hecate who responds, her strange triple voice soft and lilting, tinged with sadness
“Hex? You resist our weaves? Why? They protect you from the shadows that claw at your minds…” and indeed, for those of the group who have thrown off the effects of her spell the negative emotions seem to have increased significantly and the darkness presses in on the bubble of light projected by these weird clowns
“We have watched you for the last half turn and the effects are only growing stronger…you bicker when you should be still, you arm children when you should be protecting them…? Does this strike you as how you would normally behave? The way here is dark and it seeks to turn you to its ends. We can hold it at bay for a time if you allow us but if you prefer to face the darkness alone then the strands of fate will become twisted and your paths cannot be measured for long. It is not just your deaths that await you down here, events have been foreseen… The world is always changing but these tides are insidious and the drag the world towards the precipice. Those of us who would stand against this fate have a duty to uphold, will you step lightly with this burden or let yourselves be dragged down?”
All the while she is speaking illusions dance around the clowns, threads of light and darkness, both magical and technological…
***
#33
-
Goodnight's expansive shrug manages to be insolent, nonchalant, and broadly expansive all at , quite a feat for the waifish dryad. "Heronasta od darnasta, pechet imiriso ozidanastet." She says in Sperethiel. We live and we die, except for the memories we leave behind. A phrase she learned from Corby, and she can hear his highborn, aristocratic tones as he says it in her mind. Usually an expression of fatalism, here Goodnight uses it in answer to Hecate's proclamation about the probable end of their lives down here. Goodnight is forced to admit, privately, that Hecate is probably right.
Goodnight gestures around them and says, "Bones in heaps, bones in stacks. Bones neatly sorted by something insane. We know the measure of our chosen stage, and the prowess of our fellow players. We appreciate the offer of support, but this humble thespian must point out that it is the height of rudeness to intrude upon a work without so much as a playbill to warn of the change in actors." Strangely, the dramatic metaphor comes easily to Goodnight, for all that she's never met a magical elven clown before.
And they are elves, Goodnight is sure of that. Lithe and graceful, with musical voices and a strange predilection for mystical doublespeak. And Satire's laugh, nearly a twin to Goodnight's own. The pale shadowrunner is reasonably certain that were she to pull off that diamond domino, she would find a heartstoppingly lovely face, pointed ears, and a shock of bright red hair.
Her tone warming still, equally as beautiful though somewhat less erotic than Satire's, Goodnight continues, "Sometimes an understudy is called before she is ready," Goodnight glances briefly to Natasha, "but in dire need must act all the same and hope that the crowd is merciful and her fellow players keen. Surely you know this. It is not the normal way of things, but the show must, of course, go on." Goodnight bows deeply. "We would welcome your assistance, of course, but we must ask that you not turn our minds with your songs without at least a couplet of warning."
Then she looks past Hecate at Satire and intones, "Se'seterin. Telegit Thelemsa." It is a ritual greeting, a deeply elven greeting, and she is curious whether Satire will respond with the traditional zarien response. She is also curious whether they will recognize the marks on her astral, or the Tir noble's accent she'd learned from Rook, or- goddess help her- the touch of Macha, her goddess mentor...or Rook himself.
-
Once Al heard the triple-voiced girl say all the things he'd been thinking, he congratulated himself for knowing all along that these clowns had the right stuff.
He listened to Goodbye blather on for a bit, half in English, half in keeb, then could quiet himself no longer. "Hey, ol' Al ain't much fer talkin' in metaphors, but what say we give some heed to the...the..um...the sage clarions of light, an' set about disarmin' the amateurs. Ain't never too late ta fix yer mistakes, that's what my pa always said."
-
As the darkness presses in Nitro switches his vision modes, only to find that has little effect, his enhanced hearing catching sounds and half sounds beyond the normal range of hearing. "Wha tha frag wa' tha'?"
As he feels the darkness press in closer the sounds get louder, flickering with the illusions flying around, making it even harder for the increasingly confused rigger to tell reality from magical fantasy, the feeling of a growing threat has him dropping back into a combat ready stance, the shotgun sweeping around trying to track things he can barely hear while everyone else just blathers on, thankfully much of the time the mispec weapon is aim up above everyone... most of the time.
"fraggi'all we ye all jus' shadda' so I can liss'en! Har' enough te tell whas commin' withou' ye lo' yammerin an all thi' fuckin' magi' bloc'en me sigh'!"
-
[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis blinks a little, quirking a brow. "In all the horror films I've seen, arming children usually leads to the monsters doom. However several of the seasoned would have to die, a mysterious group comes to assist but ends up making things worse and better just before the monster kills them off. One of the people of the first group, usually a male falls in love with a female of the second group, and they manage to escape with the children. The Mascot character usually survives too. Are you going to take us to the court of miracles now?"
Tobbis had his own special weapon against bad mojo. Cats. The matrix was full of them, and even the dog like changely found their antics amusing.
[spoiler]36 posts worth add to sheet - 47th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine
Pain Editor On
[/spoiler]
-
Prophesies of gloom and doom. This was totally not Isaint's cup of tea. Faith is what you make.
He put a hand on Nitro's back and forth waving gun and pressed till it aimed at the ground:
"Keep calm. There is a much higher risk you'll hit one of us than anything else. For the moment it'll be best if we listen to what those clowns have to say. That spell hit pretty hard. If they wanted to harm us, they probably would have attacked with something a lot more dangerous. They also have the homeground here - for the moment I accept their guidance.
I also agree with Al: At least the children should for the moment put the weapons away. In this situation a panic reaction could lead to a devastating crossfire."
The changeling's commentary made him smile:
"If this were a horror film, this would be the scene where we lose another member..."
He stopped and looked around: "Damn, has anyone seen Mel?"
-
Al looked at the small changeling and commented quietly: "Well big surprise you point out the mascot always lives. Heh. But if stayin' alive means couplin' with one o' them hot mimes in the skintight get-ups, well, you can count ol' Al in fer that."
-
Solo texts >>>are we really going to come with them? Nobody does stuff from pure motives... they work for someone. They dont just happen to be here.
In an attempt to buy some more time Solo have the crowds cheer for Goodnight to sing. From his short expirience with her she might actually do it.
-
Nitro jumps a bit as Isaint reaches out and forces his weapon down, he lloks down as well, breathing deep, trying to calm down and refocus, his head still twitches a little from half heard sounds, but eventually he nods at Isaint and keeps the weapon down. "Alrigh'... this pla'e is givin' me a fuckin' creeps." He gives a slightly wry smile "Som'imes tha downsi'e o' bein' so augmen'e... no' everyo'e 'an 'ere or see wha' ye do..."
-
Al was feeling less and less peaceful, and trusting these freaks less and less. Surrounded by the dark and the bickering and the undead threatening to leap out at them any second, he was tempted to just throw himself back into the thread or the loom or whatever it was. He hadn't realized just how depressing this place was until he'd had a taste of that spell.
Maybe if they weren't a bunch of namby pamby elfin artistes.
But since they were...well...a little doom and gloom was good for the soul now and again.
He saw Solo's text. He didn't see the point of texting back - he went over and spoke to the man. He wasn't much bothered who heard.
"Listen amigo, yer preachin' to the damned choir here - I don't think fer a bleedin' second they's here by happy happenstance. An' neither do I trust 'em any further'n I could sprout wings an' fly. But consider the options. We could kill 'em right now, but then some of us git hurt, an' murderin' folks fer nothin' don't sit well with ever'one. We could walk away, but that takes us back the way we come - so no joy there. We could sit here havin' a dance-a-thon, but, well, that ain't hardly my thing. That basically don't leave nothin' but joinin' the circus an' seein' where that leads. Worse that could happen is they try ta kill us. But that's the worse that could happen right now. Either way, the odds say we go."
-
Solo answered Al.Al we are the most scary thing in yhe catacombs. Things that try to kill us tend to die... the worst case will be to have our minds influenced and family disappears they already are effecting our judgement and are aware of at least Natasha. They mess with our heads before asking us for a trust call... i think we should figure out if it was an iffer or a sugar coated death threat... offers can be refused. He said as he tried to blend in the crowed waving his hands and crying Goodnight goodnight!
-
Natasha watches the strange clowns and the stranger dryad lady go back and forth in keeb- in Sperethiel, she mentally corrects herself, she'd gotten in trouble for calling Jenny Whitemane a keeblah during a football match last Wednesday and Jenny had been pretty cool about it- and wondering what the hell she'd gotten into. The flash gear is cool, she has to admit. She loves the ShadowStalkers movies and she and her dad used to watch Dark Futures reruns on friday nights. She'd always had daydreams of being like one of the glamorous characters from those programs, fighting the shadowy good fight, jetting around the world, making huge nuyen and living the life she wants instead of the cushy, safe, boring life her dad wants for her.
But this? This is not null sheen, all systems go. Goodnight is pretty cool and she's been really nice, but even she can tell that the pale, white-haired chit isn't all there sometimes. The guy with the flaming hair and all the wiz gear talks like he got dropped on his head as a baby, the big guy that's built like a brick shithouse seems a little uptight, the one talking to Goodnight seems to have a few screws loose himself for all that he's been pretty friendly, she feels like the french one keeps eyeing her ass, the dog-man seems a little out of it- but at least he gets points for liking Young Frankenstein- and the old guy at the back seems like a bit of a dick, if a well-meaning one. So a crazy slag, a cyberfreak rigger, some huge friggin' guy who clearly does not dig the person whose job is to lead them out of here, a crazy, a playboy, a mutant, and a curmudgeon.
This isn't what Natasha expects of shadowrunners at all, and she's more than a little disappointed.
She tunes back in from her little reverie in time to catch Goodnight's Sperethiel at the one with the sexy laugh, determinedly holding onto the fact that she's straight as an arrow and totally not examining what that throaty chuckle did to her. Instead, she plays the phrase back in her head, and breaks into a delighted grin. At Goodnight, she whispers excitedly, "Hey, I understood that! Siselle, Thelemsa-ha, right?" Goodnight looks shocked for a second, but she nods and Natasha feels a warm flush of pride, her uniquely teenage disappointment in the 'runners vanishing for a second. She'd managed to surprise a shadowrunner! Sure, it was just a little- Jenny had taught her a few Sperethiel phrases by way of cultural payback and this was one of the first- but still, that has to count for something.
"Not bad, 'Tasha." Goodnight says, using the diminuitive form of Natasha's name with effortless casualness, as if they were old friends rather than client and paymaster. "Pretty sure most of the rest of this group couldn't have given that answer half as fast, if at all." She smiles her infectious smile at Natasha and Natasha smiles back, blushing fiercely.
There's a brief flurry of conversation amongst the 'runners and Natasha listens intently, then tries to hide her disappointment that they still want to treat her like a kid. She's sixteen, damn it! She's been shooting with her boyfriend, and taking martial arts classes after school, and she's a varsity star in all of the sports the school allows her to play! She's not helpless and she's not a child! But as Goodnight turns to her, Natasha rolls her eyes and wordlessly hands over the borrowed submachine gun. Truth to tell, she's not comfortable with it. Skeet shooting and a half-dozen times at the range have familiarized her with pistols and shotguns, at least in passing, but an automatic weapon is military or ganger, not doctor's-daughter standard.
Natasha goes to hand over the pistol too, but Goodnight shakes her head. Very quietly, Goodnight says, "Wait. You ever shoot a handgun?" Natasha gives her a level look and Goodnight nods. "Boyfriend?" Now its Natasha's turn to nod and Goodnight smiles. "Good. Keep it. First lesson, 'Tasha; never, ever let someone else dictate what makes you feel safe, not without at least thinking about it. We're hired to make sure you and your family get out alive, but that doesn't make us your parents. Your dad wants you to hand over the gun, you can argue with him. Otherwise, its yours to carry and if you say you can use it, I'll trust you."
Natasha opens her mouth to thank Goodnight or deliver some snappy teenage sarcasm, but Goodnight has already turned away, and Natasha shrugs and puts the pistol back in its holster, closing her eyes and placing her hand on the butt, then taking it away, getting to know where it hangs and how her hand lands on it.
Goodnight catches what Natasha is doing and smiles at the earnest effort of the kid. Chances are that none of them would live to see daylight again, but she has to admire the stones on the teenager. Behind her, Solo's phantoms are cavorting, chanting and talking, and Goodnight is so absorbed in looking at the troupe in front of her that takes a few moments for Goodnight to realize that the phantoms are chanting her name. The chanting brings back old memories, memories of when she was somewhere else, someone else, and Goodnight's eyes go distant as the memory takes hold of her...*
[spoiler=*]There's a flashback here, but its going to go up in a separate post once finished, as its kind of long.[/spoiler]
-
Al respected Solo - he had serious skills, and was smart like a mutant. And more important , he seemed like a stand-up guy. But all that could lead to some serious overthinking.
And he was crazy.
As Solo explained to Al his ideas for making things as complicated as possible, the shorter man took a glance around and once again tried to get his head around the level of insanity and ridiculousness that was all around him.
They were crammed at close quarters in a clearly haunted catacomb passage - four family members (now armed) and a handful of mercenaries - basically illuminated only by the magical glowcharms of a troupe of warrior mimes blocking the way ahead of them and warping their minds with happy-magic. The people doing the talking were for some reason spending their time spouting riddles and whatnot, and now there was some sort of illusion of a chanting crowd composed of a zillion copies of themselves.
He kept his hand on Spike’s nape just to stay grounded in his own internal reality.
He’d finally cleared his head of what was in it, and now he needed to sift through all that was going on outside of it, filter out what was important. He ignored the crowd as best he could, and put his back to the circus - for better or worse, that was being dealt with by others. No, there was something else he knew he was supposed to be paying attention to, something he’d missed among all this mystical chaos. He ran back over the past few seconds, replaying it his mind...shit, if they’d all missed this, they were more fucked up than he’d thought: Isaint’s voice, lost in the magical maelstrom - “Damn, has anyone seen Mel?”
-
"Soon, wait for it" thinks Solo. Soon everything will be ready - he has to know who these people are, and if they are really spending their life helping people through the catacombs - (how many people travel there anyhow). His deck is online, running silent. The configuration is right - he is waiting for Goodnight to sing but he does not dare to let Al know what he is about to try, if he knows he might try to stop him. That music have made them too trusting - would they even reach conversation without it? He has to know who they are and whom they are working for.
He is going to try and hack one of their comlinks while goodnight sings. With such a rare beauty and unnatural charm it is difficult not to look at her - and Solo himself is tempted to just give hacking a brake and continue looking at her. But he is a professional before he is a jerk, he is going to miss her little performance. If she has this effect on him with a girlfriend and a spirit in his mind she clearly has this kind of effect on every male and perhaps even female in the room.
Their protectors seem very keeb about the world so it might actually work, Solo cannot really relate to elf culture. He feels that it is idiotic and autistic - like a child that romanticize anything about the world.
He say to Al - "Lets just wait for Goodnight's performance, I am not sure she can refuse a cheering crowed even if she knows they are an illusion - she still hear them chanting her name with excitement, they still fool all of her senses and she is a drama queen and like to have all the attention focused on her... I mean look at her... If we do not make it out of here at least we'll have one last blissful moment before we kick the bucket.
How much penitence our protectors have for this clearly bizarre behaviour?
Learning this answer will teach us something about them - I already imagine they suffer from keeb culture.
To himself he thinks: "People are afraid from what they cannot understand - a poem in the catacombs or a song can be more scary than a gun."
-
Goodnight's eyes clear as she shakes away the memory of her bridging against the Disassemblers, the blood and screams and cries of pain, the exultation of slaughter, and the Laésasa chanting Macha...Macha! She can feel Macha's speed in her bones, hear the beating rush of the Morrigan's dark wings and the crowing of Badb's call to punish these troubadours for daring to try and interfere with her mind and the mind's of her charges, to assert her superiority in a flash of bloody revelation.
With an effort, Goodnight ignores the clarion call of battle. She trembles slightly, only for a second, a barely perceptible tremor as she pushes down a part of herself rightly locked away for a year and more.
The phantom crowd is still chanting her name, and Goodnight considers just why Solo is turning them into a cheering crowd for her. What would be the point? Goodnight glances at Solo, confused, and sees the tightness in his stance as he half-whispers to Al and as she catches a fragment of the conversation, suddenly she understands. He needs a distraction, and for whatever reason he has chosen to use her to get it. She sighs through her nose, reflecting that he could have just asked.
But fine. They want to see her as a self-centered dramatic, then that is what she will give them.
Goodnight makes a sharp cutting gesture with one hand, and gives voice to a harsh word of Gaelic. All around, the darkness presses in against Goodnight and the group she is supposed to be guiding, the fragile bubble of false warmth created by the Harlequinade collapsing as she pits her magic against theirs and comes out stronger than they. Fixing Hecate with a mock-stern look, Goodnight says, "While your efforts to buoy our voices and brighten our song are appreciated, we cannot simply let another cut in to our performance, and I will thank you for the asking before you try that again." Her voice is light, her tone more teasing than anything else, but the amusement doesn't reach her eyes. Turning to glance at Solo, Goodnight nods ever so slightly, and sends a quick text message, vague enough that even if read, it would give precious little of Solo's intentions away. <<If you want me to keep going, at 85 seconds tell me.>>
Then, taking a deep breath, Goodnight begins to sing (http://orokos.com/roll/313462).
Goodnight's singing voice is as high and clear as a crystal bell, as far from her usual throaty purr as it is possible to get. There is no quaver, no roughness, no smoky sexiness forced or natural in her voice. The halls of the catacombs act as a natural amplifier for her voice, and the song dominates the corridor in which they stand, a beautiful piece somewhere between a love song and a lament, and she sings it in its entirety, without accompaniment or back. Her fuschia eyes flutter closed as she sings, and she sways in place slightly, lost in the music.
Hear my cry,
In my hungering search for you,
Taste my breath on the wind,
See the sky as it mirrors my colours,
Hints and whispers begin.
I am living to nourish you, cherish you,
I am pulsing the blood in your veins,
Feel the magic and power of surrender,
To life. Uisce Beatha
Every finger is touching and searching,
Until your secrets come out,
In the dance, as it endlessly circles,
I linger close to your mouth.
I am living to nourish you, cherish you,
I am pulsing the blood in your veins,
Feel the magic and power of surrender,
To life. Uisce Beatha
-
Solo's entire attention is given to Goodnight, for a moment he himself almost forget why he wanted her to sing. Her voice
was just as beautiful as her physical appearance. Her voice seemed to made the darkness of the catacombs go away,
for a moment there was only life and peace. It blended perfectly with the music the muse was playing. A perfect moment - so peaceful such beauty - but he could not be an elf about that moment, not yet. He needed her song as a distraction, a powerful one based on natural charm rather then direct magic.
With a heavy heart, he enters hot sim, leaving M in charge of his body. Solo can feel M's excitement from the song and he draws comfort and confidence from her happiness. He ignores Goodnight's text to him, as 85 seconds are a lot of time inside the matrix and he is not in particular rush. There will be plenty of time to text her, or ask for her signature once he is done. He is completely in the zone, he is the deck - he is the matrix and he literally feels every bit that comes out of his deck. Time seems to freeze as he enters the matrix - his speed is incredible compared to the song and Solo hopes to be out of the matrix before Goodnight finish the sentence.
Solo was impressed how he managed to rally his intentions to Goodnight. No magical and no electronic communication, just some sensitivity and intuition. Common sense and empathy are powerful allies as these are very difficult to intercept. He somehow feels very intuitive towards the damaged dyad, perhaps they are similar in some odd and twisted way, but alas - can she be as disturbed as him?
>> running silent.... done.
Matrix configuration: Sleaze 6, Firewall 4, Attack 1, Data processing 2:
Loaded Programs:
Exploit, Virtual Machine (Stealth, Signal Scrub)
Noise compensation - 4
Sleaze 7 +2 (Hack on the fly).
His deck is ready to use, Solo locates a comlink. The rush and excitement and danger fills his veins.
His deception is so strong he actually feels like a simple diagnostic program creeping on the comlink and asking for a mark.
His silently running icon approaches the icon in question, "Just diagnostic application. " he says as he try to get the com link to give him a mark. Speed is of the essence, Solo just intend to take a peek - just look at some call logs and perhaps a text or too so he get a few breadcrumbs as to who these mysterious dancing keebs really are, and why exactly are they in there. He hopes not to be discovered, but he understand that the risk is always there. He lives for the risk and he did all he could to minimize it. He did not even share his intentions, deniability he does not care to be the rouge decker gone wiled if he is caught. Finesse the good deckers are never caught, they are so subtle you never know they were there.
[spoiler]
Solo has the heighten concern power so he can actually either negate spell sustaining penalty or negate noise.
So I wasn't sure how many dice to roll, I rolled 20 his ideal hot slimmed dice.
Hacking (http://orokos.com/roll/313269): 20d6t5 11
20d6t5: 11 [20d6t5=5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 1, 5, 5, 4, 5, 6, 3, 6, 1, 1, 4, 1, 6, 3, 1]
As long as the total penalty is no greater than 9 dice Solo should reach his maximum of 9 hits.
Solo will keep careful and will not have the deck open for long, he just want to snoop around to see some of the recent calls and messages made by that comlink - He will behave very similarly regardless of what he finds and close the deck and go back to his body, hopped that his ruse have gone unnoticed. I think that Goodnight's singing should give -8 dice for perception of what he is doing, so we are showing some really amazing integration of skills.
Basically Solo is trying to figure out a clue on to what their intentions are and what end game they have by looking at what he can with a mark. Regardless of what he finds he prefers to get out of there quickly and enjoy the rest of Goodnight's song.
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint was aggravated by the tumult of the illusions. Again he had activated his focus and saw now the world without its distractions. The spell no longer clung to him and even if it had not actively been harming, he still resented the tranquility it had forced upon him.
Mel stayed lost. He didn't dare to wander to far from the light and after peering in the direction they had came for some minutes, he returned to what seemed to have erupted into a spontaneous talent show.
He wanted to erupt into anger, but the spell had drained his emotions. He felt empty instead.
He had never before realized, that this anger had been such an important force for him - to keep him going and gritting his teeth through all trials and tribulations.
Slowly he felt the numbness receed. And with it came the subtle pain that this place held for its visitors. Through its temporary absence he could feel it now much clearer: Like little barbs that irritated more than they hurt, driving you to extremes.
Through an effort of will he tried to suppress those feelings an concentrated instead on the clowns' reaction.
-
Al worked his way to the rear of the shrinking but tightly-packed group as hippy-girl started singing. Singing. He shook his head in frustrated exasperation the whole way.
Coming up alongside Isaint, he reached for a cigaratte and remembered again that he had none.
"No sign of 'er?"
The ork shook his head.
"Sheeeit." Al was sure he and Spike could track her, even in the dark. And it tore at every ounce of his soul not to. But it would mean leaving the Pelletiere's - innocent in this whole affair - to the mercy of megacorps, governments, headcase conspiracies, and circus clowns, with only an increasingly deranged group of hippies to look after them.
Mel had known the job was dangerous when she took it.
Al glanced at the carnival, looked back at Isaint, and shrugged. "Can't say that's how I'd o' done things, but nothin' for it less'n we want more contention 'mongst ourselves. An' I reckon we need that like a nudist colony needs a dry cleaners. Reckon we let 'em tucker theyselves out, then maybe we can resume some sorta forward motion, get the hell outta hear afore more of us vanish into thin air."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
If the clowns are perturbed by the illusions and Goodnight’s impromptu performance they don’t show it…although when Goodnight unravels Hecate’s spell they all visibly react and briefly hands reach towards holstered weaponry…it would seem they too were under the mindful influence of Hecate’s weave…
As Solo reaches out with digital fingers to gain a mark on Wit’s commlink he realises a moment too late that he has gained a mark on Fortune’s link…they are running a group PAN and it was a stuggle to place even that mark. He’s in but then almost immediately he feels his connection begin to slip as an Agent program rips into his mark to try and erase it…
Hecate’s triple voice booms out over the rippling music and the cavorting crowd
“Enough!” and then once more the deep sadness… “You childishly spurn our help. You have already lost three of your number to this place and you will likely lose more if you would rather test your mettle against ours than link your song with us. Help is not often freely offered and we cannot force you to accept it. We would counsel you to walk with us, Satire, Wit and Kiss can seek out this Mel and bring her if they can, Fortune and I continue to the market, with or without you…our troupe await us there and the performance must not be delayed…”
[spoiler]
Solo needs to roll Will+Firewall to stop his mark being erased, expect Fortune to know about the mark too. Note, it is his ‘link rather than deck that is the master in the PAN.
[/spoiler]
***
#34
-
"Truer words were seldom spoken. I really need to talk with Torrent about what constitutes a "safer place to go". So far even a HRT and an all-star team of spirits were safer than this shit hole of a place.
Well, there is nothing for it. Forward is the only direction to get out of here."
Isaint listened morosely for a moment to Goodnights singing. That one was a real Loreley...
He couldn't say that he faulted the clowns for their reaction. Still, it was impolite to cast mind affecting magic and expect everyone to be happy about it.
"Well in that case, how about we cut that crap and get a move on? We don't want any more trouble than we already have. Lead the way."
-
Solo got the mark and for a moment it was good, he felt like the nova hot Decker he aspired to be, but then out of that blue came this agent that was some serious shit. He was scanning for marks and Solo's mind was moving the mark all over the scan trying to fool the scanning agent. "There goes my stealth", thought Solo "must Goodnight demolish that spell... I thought we were playing the summer of love card. Oh well there is so much telepathy he can have with someone he does not know." But if he went this far trying to get some intelligence he might as well get it before he leaves - after all his presence was already known in there.
He browse the PAN and communications trying to gallop as much as he can in the short time he have, copying important pieces for later use. It is all bits and pieces that he will have to process later. He already understands that he will have to stop very soon, but he tries to "drink" as much information before doing so.
-
Goodnight's song comes to an end and her eyes snap open as Hecate roars. Her jaw clenches as she sees hands coming away from weapons, irritated that her dispelling Hecate's working would cause them to nearly draw on the team. She glances around to see several members of their little band- the Pelletieres included- staring at her with looks ranging from disgust to confusion, with Isaint's melancholy going for the outside straight. Goodnight closes her eyes and sighs softly, and only the fingers of her right hand curling into a tight fist betray her frustration at the whole fragging situation. She wants to tell Isaint that the whole underground isn't this bad, scream at Al for his obvious derision, and slap Hecate for talking down to them. She doesn't, but its a close-run thing.
Behind her iridescent fuschia eyes, something ugly is clawing its way to the surface, and she lets it come.
Goodnight's expressionless mask is back, her pretty smile glued firmly in place, but its all surface now. In a deceptively level tone, Goodnight tells the Harlequins, "You are correct, of course, and my companion is right to insist that we move on. Forgive my frivolity." She gestures at Hecate. "You may reestablish your working with no interference from me." She doesn't scream at them about their help being offered with no information, from unknown persons who appear under the guise of mind-warping sorcery, and she is proud of herself for that self control. "Lead on, if you know your way to Shadows' Folly and the Night Market." She glances at Satire and adds, "Though if you intend to split your troupe to look for our companion, then I must insist on going with them. No travelers should be without a mage in this unhappy place."
-
"Satire's gifts will suffice on that account, no need to rob your group of their guide. You will be needed! We have all walked dark paths to this place. Perhaps not as bleak as the one you have travelled child, but dark enough..."
She gives the impression of smiling sadly, "We cannot exclude your group from the workings of our weaves but resist if you must..." And once more a sense of peace and wellbeing flows from her, banishing the rising tide of negativity which is equally beginning to feel as if it is being desperately imposed from beyond...
-
Hey! Just cause um lacking in height does not make me childish! The changeling says as he attempts to blow a raspberry in his mask, with a sudden ugh.. Eww.. it tastes so fowl. I need to clean it... he shudders softly, but doesnt take off the mask yet.
-
Solo is unheapy... who these people are and how did they happen to be in the catacombs... how do they know so much. He finally say quietly and peacefully.
"You are people of true power rare talent in matrix magic and dare I think combat. You seem to know awful lot about us, yet you surprised us. Do you expect us to believe that you just happend to be here?, that you are willing to risk the life of your teammates for no reason? People like you are expensive to hire... and it is hard for me to accept that this encounter is a random one. I avoid unecessary violence but honestely, we have an amazing guide whom we trust. We do not need any more guidience of unknown origin. Who are you really and why are you here?. "
-
Solo then forwards his extracted data to the team.
Texting>>>this is what I got... see if you can make sense of it all. he shuts down his deck and view this stuff on his RCC trying to fugure out what it means.
-
Al glanced at what Solo had sent - apparently hacked from the mimes - slick, he had to admit - but it was all in what looked like elf-talk, and he could make heads nor tails of it.
But at least Solo was talking straight to them, now. Why couldn't he have just opened with that? Hanging out at the back of the crew, Al listened for the answer. Little chance of it revealing much on the face of things, but....awww, no. "Moses in molasses," he said, as his emotions suddenly threatened to go skipping back to gumdrop candy mountain, "they gon' hit us with the happy magic again?"
Faced with the choice between happy and stupid or miserable and sharp, Al would take happy and stupid almost any day of the week.
But not with this family to watch out for.
And certainly not from a bunch of damned mimes.
-
Goodnight snorts softly at Solo's words. They trust her about as far as they can throw her, she knows. But they don't have to trust her. They just have to listen. She shakes her head and tells Hecate, "Very well. Work your magics if you must, and be not offended when I exclude myself from your working." Hecate nods slightly as her spell takes form and flows out once more, and just as before, goodnight speaks a word and makes a gesture and Hecate's magic hits Goodnight's like a wave against rocks, shattering just as totally.
Goodnight gives Satire a long look, wondering at the other Dryad. Most Dryads did not, as rule, travel. Goodnight knows she is the exception, but Dryads are rare enough that meeting another, especially another wandering one is...unlikely. Still, if Satire can find her charges' missing teammates, then Goodnight has no choice but to aid her. She flips an ARO to Satire, Wit, and Kiss with the turnings and paths they had taken thus far, and a warning about the Astral Shallow they had crossed.
Goodnight ignores Solo's data. She has other things to worry about and she's no code-breaker. If they reach Shadows' Folly intact, she'll hit her doss, see her sister, and maybe forward the data to Enyo. Enyo could probably break it, and she's honest enough to stay bought. She turns to check on Natasha, who meets her eyes. At Goodnight's appraising look Natasha whispers, "I'm...solid. Wiz. Don't worry about me." She tries for a smile, but its too nervous to be believable.
Goodnight touches her cheek and nods once, then whispers back, "I'll keep you safe, within and without." Then she turns away, and one hand drops to her waist, coming up with a slender handle that has a small smart material guide-weight on one end. Its no weapon focus, but it will do for now. Thus armed, Goodnight triggers her SecondSkin and the material goes pitch-black as she waves down the passage. "We'd better get on, then." She says in Sperethiel.
-
Solo texts his buddy Charlie if there is one person he can trust with his life it is Charlie. He is also an established decker and will probobly know what to do with the code.
>> Hey Charlie!
I am a bit with a jynx.
I lifted this data from some people...
I sort of ended up in bed with them.
I need you to try and decipher the code, because I suspect my bed parthners have ulterior motives and I want to know to what extent I can trust them. Attached are the code + what little I understand bout it now.
Thanks buddy,
M491(
[spoiler]
Charlie is a connection 4, Loyalty 6 matrix security expert.
[/spoiler]
-
Al breathed a sigh of relief as they finally got the group moving again. He pushed off with a spring in his step, but then remembered that was probably the happy magic and made an effort to resume his usual tired shuffle. There - just doing that did wonders to clear his mind of all this hippy silliness.
Of course, that meant he started to feel crappy again. And the crappy thing was, crappy always felt more crappy once you'd had a taste of not-crappy. He didn't know if it was because this was his second come-down off the mimes' groove, or if they were just getting deeper into this creeporendous place, but it was worse this time. Bad enough he started to think about how, maybe, he could actually protect the family better if he let the witchcraft clear his mind of all these dark feelings.
Yeah, the more the shadowy gloom pressed on all seven of his senses, the better that line of thinking started to sound.
And then he thought of Major Uchida.
Whenever Captain Takahashi and his men started feeling discouraged by the seemingly never-ending battle against the terrorists and pedophiles they rooted out of the shadows nightly, Major Uchida was there with words of stern resolve, rallying the samurai to another big win against the forces of anarchy.
When the Reds were about to flee in the face of the toxic shaman's evil spirits, Major Uchida appeared and led the charge against the poisonous runners. Their spells and conjurations could never take hold on his pure and righteous character.
So if Major Uchida could do it, so would Al, dammit.
But then the headaches started. Damn - feelings of melancholy, woe, and hopelessness, yeah, that was oppressive, but this headache. Like something was prying into his brain and stirring up all the nausea and disorientation centers. He staggered a little, caught himself on the lip of an alcove.
His hand came to rest on small bones.
Yeah, the thread or the fiber or whatever they called it was getting thinner now. He knew he could throw it off completely, just as he had before.
Major Uchida would. Of course, Major Uchida had also never had any fun. Whenever the squad went out to the izakaya, he always stayed in the office finishing the reports and devising new means to make the elite security force profitable. When the elegant and graceful Morita-sama had made clear her affections for him, he had, after an appropriate period of meditation, reflection, and discussion with approved corporate guidance counselors, made the difficult decision to forego love and happiness in order to better devote himself to service.
But that also made him a serious badass, a tower of Red Samurai power. Al had always wanted to be like Major Uchida, and there was no way he was giving in now. Stupid clown magic had to go.
And then the whispers started. No more than a few minutes after they'd set out, they started in, creeping into his mind right at the moments whent the spiritual depression and physical pain were making him weakest. They promised him things, sickly sweet covenants of shame to come. They reminded him of futures best not contemplated.
And some of the voices were in Chinese.
That was when Al remembered that when Major Uchida finally retired at the age of seventy-five, the ever faithful Morita-sama, still lovely as a cherry blossom, had gone to visit him at his modest villa in the hills above Kamakura, hopeful that now, at last, their love could be lived. Only to find that Major Uchida had commit ritual suicide rather than become a burden to the Renraku family in his dotage.
A few seconds later, Al was walking up to the front of the line. "Well, toots, weren't really ol' Al's thing, but you got one helluva set o' pipes on ya. Shazam, girlfriend, I ain't heard croonin' like that since this one nightclub in Miami back in '52..."
Al was feeling good! And when you feel good, you just naturally want to share it.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
"You are people of true power rare talent in matrix magic and dare I think combat. You seem to know awful lot about us, yet you surprised us. Do you expect us to believe that you just happened to be here? That you are willing to risk the life of your teammates for no reason? People like you are expensive to hire... and it is hard for me to accept that this encounter is a random one. I avoid unnecessary violence but honestly, we have an amazing guide whom we trust. We do not need any more guidance of unknown origin. Who are you really and why are you here?"
“Happened to just be here? No, the fates have brought us here…our troupe are here to hunt Shedim in Below, that our paths intersected is a matter for the Pattern. We are not hirelings, we go where we are needed, where the Vision leads us and the Performance dictates. We are inspired by the Last Knight and his lonely vigil and by the Great Tales from the old world. We are Hecate, Watcher for this troupe, guide and seer.
We are glad that you trust your guide, although she seems sceptical. She is a rare one! Were it not for the tattered shadows that wrap her aura we might have considered asking her to join us. We hope that she finds peace with her path, even if that thread of fate is slim…”
***
#36
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
Things where falling apart, Nitro could feel the darkness closing in more, could hear Al and Isaint muttering about another missing member. The whole run was going to dreck, he'd not been on a run this bad for almost 7 years...
Sunday September 22nd, 2069, 22:36, Lambeth Containment Zone, London
It was supposed to have been a milk run, should have known better when it went into the LCZ. it was a smash and grab extraction, no time for finesse or subtlety, get in, get the mark, get out.
Only problem is, their mark turned out to have been a chip being used in a few powerplays going on in the LCZ, as soon as it became clear what was going on everyone started blaming everyone else and several city block had turned into a full scale war zone. Now they just had to get out alive.
"Alrigh' eve'ythin' loo's clear. We shoul' be able.. wha'? ahh fuck!" Nitro slams his fist into the wall as he loses his last drone. "Wull FUCK, now we're fuckin' blin'!" The crew leader, an orc street sam called Jagger with an ascent to match replies, raises his chromed arm "Can't be helped Nitro, we knew that alley might be trouble, it's why we agreed to send the drone. We can't go into the streets or back alleys, means we're going to need to go to the rooftops. Specter, take point, Granite, you stick with our mark and keep her safe, Sparky watch our six and keep an eye on the matrix. Nitro, you're with me, lets move."
With that the five man crew prings back into action, the elvish mystic adept vanishing with the aid of an invisibility spell, an arrow knocked and ready. The troll street shaman sticks close to their elvish mark while the dwarven decker takes the rear with a taser in each hand. They move swiftly through the apartment building, things are going well until Sparky takes a step too close to a window for a better signal.
"They're on the third floor! FRAG EM!"
Jagger acts first, pulling Nitro to the floor. Granite just a second behind in pulling the elf down, body and riot shield between the opposite building and their mark. It took Sparky a couple of sends to realize what was happening... a couple of seconds he didn't have. A storm of led flew across the street, assault riffles and even machineguns shattering windows and sending wood and plaster flying everywhere. It must have been a machinegun that caught Sparky, the successive rounds lifting him three inches off the ground before he slams against the far wall as his armor takes most of the rounds. But not the one that ripped apart the side of his neck, arterial spray fountaining from to horrific wound, the dwarf's eyes wide as he clutches at the remains of his neck gurgling in panic, his already dieing brain trying dumbly to save itself before he collapses dead on the floor.
Their mark screams and Jagger roars "GOD FRAGGING DAMNIT! MOVE PEOPLE! MOVE!" With that he hauls Nitro to his feet and pushes him towards the far window with just a narrow alleyway between it and the window to the building on the other side. Nitro raised his Remington 990 and fired three times, buckshot rounds shattering the two windows before he makes the leap, tumbling and rolling on the other side. Jagger makes the jump seem easy, even throwing smoke grenades during it to fill the corridor with smoke. Through the gathering smoke Nitro watches Granite run for the gap, he'd never seen a troll move so fast! He guessed the shaman must have used a spirit to help him run or something, just before Granite reached the window he threw the elven mark through and then jumped... jumped at the same time a massive retort echoed from across the street, one moment the troll was there, the next he was gone.
"Wha' tha fuck wa'.." "It was a fragging Assault Cannon! What the fragging hell is going on here? Who the frag brings an Assault Cannon to the LCZ?"
The two runners collect their mark and start running again, taking a turn away from the windows and deeper into the building. Around them they can here gunfire and even explosions for blocks around. The orc street sam looks grim "I don't know what's going on here, sounds like someone's declared a full scale war." for the first time their mark looks at both of them, her expression shocked. You really don't know do you? It's the Vory, tensions have been building between the red and white... I was... I was part of an offer to make the peace but you stealing me away has been the catalyst, now they war with each other." Jagger starts swearing a steady stream in German and Or'Zet. "Ja'er...?" the orc shakes his head "Not now Nitro, we're in a bad situation here.. Specter? You there? Keep your head down, the fucking russians are at each others throats trying to rip each other apart, and they'll happily do the same to us caught in the middle."
The two runners and their mark make it to the roof. "Jagger, Nitro, good to see you. Sparky? Granite?" the orc snorts and shakes his head responding to the invisible elf "Wish I could say the same Specter. They didn't make it... keep your head down, at least one of these fragging Vory has brought an Assault Cannon to the fight, we're badly outnumbered and out-gunned here. Can you get us to Nitro's car?" there's a soft sigh "Not going to be easy Jagger, but it is our best bet. I've run with Nitro before, he's a natural behind the wheel. Two buildings west, three north. That will put us over the alleyway Nitro's car is parked."
The group starts running again, hopping over dividing walls until they see a human come out of a stairwell. Nitro has barely raised his shotgun when he falls back, a carbon-fiber arrow shaft jutting out of an eye socket. The human screaming in Russian as he falls back, more voices responding below. Jagger grabs another grenade in his cybernetic arm, throwing it into the still open door as he passes, further shouting is suddenly cut off with the concussion of a high explosive grenade going off in the stairwell.
Finally the remaining team members make it to the alleyway, a fire escape leading down to the ground level below. "Jagger, Nitro, get the her down there, I'll cover you from up here." The expeirenced orc runner doesn't argue, he simple nods and starts slides down the metal ladder, his chrome hand raising sparks from his grip. The elf follows slower, shaking as she climbs down, Nitro finally following.
They'd only gone down a floor when the explosion went off with Jagger at the epicenter. When he hit the far wall the largest part of him was his cyberarm. The elf was knocked to the ground screaming and Nitro found himself clinging to the outside of the fire escape. Suddenly just above him he hears a voice "Nitro! Reach up, I've got you." The human rigger has the strange experience of having someone he can't see pulling him up... that's when he hears the gunfire. He looks up, just in time to see the bullets riddle Specter, the invisibility spell fading as she falls, still gripping Nitro's arm and pulling him off the fire escape into a three story drop.
He hurt, all over... but somehow, nothing was broken, he looked up at the mark, cornered by several thugs. He could see she had noticed him moving, see her pleading. it was the last thing he saw before he turned ran for his car, he was most of the way there before one of them noticed, the bullets ricocheting around him, a couple bouncing off his armored jacket before he dives into the beat up Ford Americar. The car looked like a beater, but he maintained it in perfect mechanical shape, the tires screaching as he hit the gas and took off.
He could still see her expresion as he started to turn away. He could still hear the despairing scream silenced by a meaty blow. Killed or just knocked out, he didn't know... and had never tried to find out.
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
He shook his head, the memories and shadows receding. He could feel the music and shadows tugging at him, soothing him, reliving that run had shaken him enough he wasn't inclined to fight it, following along instead, subconsciously checking the status of his weapon and drone.
It wasn't long after that run that he'd got the cybernetic eyes and ears.. some of his first augmentations.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, The Catacombs, London Below, London]
"You are people of true power rare talent in matrix magic and dare I think combat. You seem to know awful lot about us, yet you surprised us. Do you expect us to believe that you just happened to be here? That you are willing to risk the life of your teammates for no reason? People like you are expensive to hire... and it is hard for me to accept that this encounter is a random one. I avoid unnecessary violence but honestly, we have an amazing guide whom we trust. We do not need any more guidance of unknown origin. Who are you really and why are you here?"
“Happened to just be here? No, the fates have brought us here…our troupe are here to hunt Shedim in Below, that our paths intersected is a matter for the Pattern. We are not hirelings, we go where we are needed, where the Vision leads us and the Performance dictates. We are inspired by the Last Knight and his lonely vigil and by the Great Tales from the old world. We are Hecate, Watcher for this troupe, guide and seer.
We are glad that you trust your guide, although she seems sceptical. She is a rare one! Were it not for the tattered shadows that wrap her aura we might have considered asking her to join us. We hope that she finds peace with her path, even if that thread of fate is slim…”
***
#36
Solo answers, "We make our own fates... fate is merely vehicle to our ones own virtue and will.
We all had different fates than this one. None of our threads led to us being here... alive after so much time in the shadows, alive when many of our friends are already dead. Despite reason, despite the odds. Although, death is our only certainty, we chose to stay alive. We chose to show you our playful side, even as you met us in a place of great darkness.
Thouse that resisted your spell did so because they do not want their minds influenced one way or the other, their willpower is strong and there is truth in their behavior.
I have complete faith in her even if she is skeptical, I accepted the risks, the hardship and my imminent death long ago. I now just live for the ride - her passions are strong, her will is great and her heart is in the right place. Even if she is skeptical I trust her.
Some things are better seen from a distance. She does not seem special, she is one of a kind and can become anything she desires. I suspect that it is not only the darkness in her aura that bothers you, it is the fact that she does not obey to her nature, does not obey to the circumstances and may grow out of the reach of what you call fate. She will not follow the footsteps of some aincient heroes, she can become the hero whose footsteps others will follow.
But I think that my poetic and philosophic mask are not suitable for now, they makes my teammates uneasy and they need their peace of mind.
...So you came here to fight Shedim for some personal quest to perfection? I find it very hard to understand, it is hard for me to even imagine someone that does not serve some greater hidden force. You do not happen to be affiliated with that elven kingdom in Irland? "
Solo avoid saying the name, as he finds the idea of following a monarch to be absurd.
He then notice that some of the party members seem a bit pale, he approaches Al... "Are you okay buddy ? you seem as if you have seen a ghost..? "
-
As they walk, the team bantering and questioning and arguing amongst themselves, Goodnight walks alone, lost in her thoughts. Even Natasha only warrants a glance now and again, the cold and dark of Widow's Way seeping into Goodnight and robbing her of her cheer as well as everything else. Her mind was a swirl of emotions even as her body aches and throbs, though she can't tell if it is desire, need, pain, or anger that caused the sensations. She knows it is the catacombs that sap her soul and hurt her body, the flitting ghosts and deeper darkness all around her in the astral taking tiny pieces of her vitality for their own, and it is only with a supreme effort of will that she reins in her anger and doesn't lay about her with spellfire and rage.
How dare the Harlequins judge her?! What do they know about pain? About loss? About losing everything and everyone, about being used by powers greater than they, about having to embrace the traits and qualities of a monster in order to survive? They, with their pretty suits and masks and expensive gear, their art and their perfect language and their friends and their damned "inspiration!"
As if they could be a tenth of Harlea'quinn!
Pale actors, just painted clowns apeing something far greater than themselves, were they. And yet they judged her for the tattered horrors that she wrapped around her like a cloak. A grim smile creeps to her lips as she contemplates what they would say if they saw her as Macha in the fullness of her power and her panoply. Would they still judge? Would they respect her? Would they fight and die, screaming, at her hands? That would please her, she thinks, to teach these pale, pretty troubadours that they are not the masters of their fate that they think they are. Especially the dryad of the sensuous laugh and hooded eyes. That one would make fine sport...
In a fit of pique, Goodnight triggers her SecondSkin's circuits again, turning parts of it transparent and matte, vanishing to expose perfect, pale skin and changing the pattern on the rest. When it setlles, she appears to be wearing bicep-length gloves and thigh boots, as well as a singlet that covers her torso and groin but leaves her thighs and shoulders exposed, and the whole thing is patterned in black and gray diamonds, a deliberate mockery of their garb.
Her small barb cast, Goodnight returns to the dreamscape of thought and memory, her thoughts spiraling back to when she was taken...
Sunday September 22nd, 2069, 22:31, Lambeth Containment Zone, London
She held the chip in her hands, turning it over and over again as if the motion could help divine its purpose. She'd gotten it only a few days before, scavenging in the hot places in Lambeth. She'd found the body, dead from a single bullet to the forehead that blew out the back of the big Russian's skull. She recognized the acid tats that denoted the Vory in the LCZ. The blood was still wet and warm, but there was no sign of the shooter.
Fianna didn't spare a thought for the dead man hurried to the corpse, picking his pockets clean and cursing the slot for not carrying anything of value. Some fragging shestrioka without even a commlink. All she found was the chip, unmarked and unreadable by her scavenged 'link. Now she held as a curio, just another reminder of how short and brutal life was in Lambeth. She hid in her tiny room, away from her mother and Vicki, and dreamed of a life far away, a life with hot water and food that wasn't expired, where she wasn't just a half-grown piece of exotic ass that had to dodge every fragging ganger and slot on the street that wanted her, and where she could sleep without worrying that she might not wake up in the morning. She dreamed of a clean, nice apartment in Greenleaf, of going to school and having friends, and her eyes closed against the tears of frustration at her life.
Then her door exploded inward, the chromed ork with the combat armor and the hard look following the massive boot through the splinters of the cheap plastiboard.
The shooting started only a second later.
The ork rattled something at her as she cowered against the wall, clutching the chip out of reflex, her oversized, ratty t-shirt flaring around her thighs. She shook her head, and he swore in frustration, then grabbed crossed the room and grabbed her by the arm, lifting her up and dragging her toward the door. She didn't fight, too scared and surprised to resist as he dragged her into the hall. There were two others out there, a human and a troll, both pretty banged-up, and a couple of drones behind the human. They conferred in a language she didn't understand, then nodded and rushed for the stairs to the roof.
The next twenty minutes were a haze of panic and gunfire. The troll died first, crossing from roof to roof, blown to a red-and-white spray by something massive and loud, but the team didn't even slow down. She knew what they wanted, the chip in her hand, because she could hear shouting in Russian from the ones pursuing her abductors. She shook and cried but did as she was told, running and hiding and cowering in fear, her body covered in dirt and sweat and ash and blood.
They almost made it out.
She was halfway down the ladder when the blast took out the ork, the explosion shredding his body and twisting his chrome into wreckage. She was knocked free of the ladder, landing in what was left of the ork with a thud and a splat and a scream of fear and disgust. On her back, she could see the soldiers closing in, see the human at the top of the ladder, his face twisted in anguish as his elven friend died with a ragged line of holes in her chest, gunned down saving his life.
He left her there, with the Vory, and the expression of frustration and regret on his face had been etched into Fianna's memory ever since. She wondered, in the following years, what had happened to him. Did he regret leaving her, or blame her for his friends' deaths? Did he know what had happened, the rapes and beatings, the drugs and pain, the fear and fall into darkness that she'd taken to survive? Did he care? Did he even remember her?
What had become of that 'runner?
-
"...So you came here to fight Shedim for some personal quest to perfection? I find it very hard to understand, it is hard for me to even imagine someone that does not serve some greater hidden force. You do not happen to be affiliated with that elven kingdom in Irland? " [/color]
"No, it is not a personal quest, of course we serve...all serve in their way. We serve the Pattern, the warp and weft of the fates...but left to its own devices the Pattern is uncaring, our seers follow the paths that will serve humanity, nudge the Pattern if you will. Hubris some have claimed, who are we to judge what is the right path? Those in Tir na nOg would weave things a different way perhaps, for their own personal glory. We do not seek to elevate ourselves, only to ensure that we survive what is coming...
We have patrons, those that aid us, but no master, no guide but the Pattern..."
-
"Are you okay buddy ? you seem as if you have seen a ghost..? "
Al shrugged carelessly and smiled. "Not seen, but def'nitely heard. They's ghosts here, no doubt of it. Spectres bent on mischief. Shook ol' Al up a bit, I don't mind sayin'. But these here mimes, they packin' heap big strong medicine. Jist jump onna fiber, ride the wave, amigo, them undead hombres ain't gon' do ya no harm."
He turned to three-face. "Helluva trick ya got there. Alouicious Harlan Guthrie, esquire." He spat generously into his palm and offered his hand. Then remembering his manners, barked something in Tamasheq at Spike, who likewise sat on his haunches and extended a paw.
-
"...So you came here to fight Shedim for some personal quest to perfection? I find it very hard to understand, it is hard for me to even imagine someone that does not serve some greater hidden force. You do not happen to be affiliated with that elven kingdom in Irland? " [/color]
"No, it is not a personal quest, of course we serve...all serve in their way. We serve the Pattern, the warp and weft of the fates...but left to its own devices the Pattern is uncaring, our seers follow the paths that will serve humanity, nudge the Pattern if you will. Hubris some have claimed, who are we to judge what is the right path? Those in Tir na nOg would weave things a different way perhaps, for their own personal glory. We do not seek to elevate ourselves, only to ensure that we survive what is coming...
We have patrons, those that aid us, but no master, no guide but the Pattern..."
As long as their pattern had room for them they were cool. Solo had his personal code, humanity could burn he looked after his own. He is a professional, he could have carried his life as usual if the doc had died. Just a bad job, every runner has to accept that sooner or later things will break. It is only the newbies that have flawless record, no Solo definitely fails from time to time. He is reliable and his reputation goes back years. He could afford a fuck up here and there especially when the team is so big it is not a personal failure.
but something about Goodnight changed him, he cared just a little bit if Natasha was going to make it. Perhaps it was the affection she had toward the teenage girl. He'll definitely be a little sad if Natasha kick it and it will not just be his reputation. "I must be growing old and soft."
He answers, "As long as the ''good of humanity'' includes not interfering with our affairs we are on the same page. I can respect your view. " He really could barely comprehend, how intelligent people would follow a seer. Every person got truth inside their heart and soul, no outside force knows what's best for you.
Knowing what was best for humanity was a huge hubris in his eyes... When people are so rich and complex just understanding entire humanity and their good and bads. Solo struggled his entire life to understand just one person - himself. To learn to be true to what is good for himself. To shut off outside voices and listen to that of his heart, even when that inner voice is a vengeful bastard that wants the entire world to burn.
He could tell them who really has hubris, but since he never really changed the believes of anyone by winning an argument there was no point. The neo Irish elves - were difficult to even comprehend. Solo missed the real Irish culture before the keebs resumed their ancient history as if the previous world was nothing but an accident. He mainly heard about it in stories and trids - but he felt like he could relate to Irish people a lot more than to keebs.
To Al he answers, "try focusing your mind you do not need mojo to protect you. Go to your happy place... if being happy and peaceful somehow stop these ghosts you can will yourself into feeling like that.".
Goodnight looked different, did she just change her outfit? She seemed upset, there really was not much for him to do - these emotions were her and she probobly had her good reputation despite being emotionally unstable. Being such a powerful mage made up for a lot of shortcoming. "They do not worth the grim face" He whispered slowly as he followed her. "You do not need their respect. Take care of your own, the rest of the world is nothing but scenery." he said.
-
The return of the spells numbing sensation came almost as a relief. Isaint now realized that the absence of the spell did not equal the absence of other influences. Al seemed almost giddy now.
But Isaint felt nothing. Partly, it was a relief - especially in regard to the lost team members. Yet, he was clearly aware of the artificiality - a thin veneer disconnecting him from his environment. It made him slow and depressed while the others chatted on. A probing view into the astral confirmed the clowns' story: Thousands of spirits filled every available space around them. Truly a special kind of hell to get lost in.
Only as the conversation with the leader of the elves came to mention Shedim, did he perk up: "You are hunting Death Daemons? Is that what's causing this spirit storm around us? Damn, you know thats information you could start with in a conversation. Those things are freaking dangerous. The last time I had to deal with those things we lost half the team in Prague. If there is an infestation with a Master Shedim at the center you should not bother with our sorry asses but find that fiend and blast its essence apart! Those things are worse than even insect spirits."
-
Nitro shook is head, trying to clear it...something else was nagging at him but he ignored it as he tried to ignore everything else nagging at him, the music, the magic, the shadows, the whispers...
"Seems te me we'e overs'ayin' our welcome 'ere... migh' I sugges' we tha' we focus o' ge'in' ou' o' 'ere affore wha'eve's tryin' te mess wi' us desi'es te sto' messin' wi' an' star' messin' up."
He didn't like this place, or the way the shadows seemed to move, but with all the talk of magic and spirits going arouns, it seems to him that his gun and drone won't be any help here, he just hopes something else doesn't use this as cover to sneak up on them.
-
"Let them come." Goodnight says derisively. "They will not find us easy marks should their predations rise beyond petty mischief." Her booted feet click sharply on the ancient stone of the floor, a sharp counterpoint to the near-silent steps of the Harlequins and the heavier tread of her companions. "We were never welcome here, but this world is for the living, and the dead will learn their place should they try to force us out." Goodnight says. She sounds different, harder. Her voice is still achingly beautiful, but it is the cold, sharp prettiness of a fine blade rather than the warmth of a lush young body. No sign of her earlier anger remains, and she twirls the hilt of her monowhip back and forth through her fingers with easy dexterity.
Goodnight takes a moment to turn over Solo's words in her head before responding to him, but when she does its with a smile that is as far from the placating, vapid prettiness as could be. Its a sharp smile, a laughing killer's grin, promising a wild, breathless time ahead of a long, hard death. To Solo she breathes, "Its their adoration, fear, and desire I crave, not their respect. No expatriot street rat will ever be counted amongst their precious fragging circus." She laughs, a low, soft, purring sound. "Notoriety may not be as good as fame, but it will serve well enough."
Goodnight winks at Solo and brushes his shoulder with one gloved hand before sidling over to Natasha and thus Isaint. Her arm snakes around Natasha's shoulders and she hugs the shy, nervous teen while smirking at Isaint. "Oh, not to worry lover. I'll keep you and your precious cargo safe from the big bad zombies." She grins broadly, showing that she's joking rather than mocking, then opines, "Besides, I'd think that someone of your caliber and ballistisexual preferences," she indicates his shirt with a nod, "would relish the chance to go head to head with a set of spirits even I can't tell you not to shoot in the damned face."
Goodnight kisses Natasha on the cheek lightly, then lets the now-blushing girl go and asks no one in particular, "Esquire? When did Al become a lawyer?" She looks over at the craggy old runner. "I'm glad you liked the pipes, counselor." She tells him lightly. "We get out of here alive, I'll get out my glad rags and take you and anyone else interested out for a drink and sing you any song you care to name."
-
Isaint wasn't sure what Goodnight was playing at. Derision for his concern seemed to be wholly inappropriate - even if she wanted to calm the girl. Where Shedim were concerned, worry was very appropriate.
"Let me tell you a story about the Death Daemons. It was seven years ago, just after I'd gotten out of the KSK and started to run again. I'd found a team in Prague that specialized in protection work, called themselves the Golemni. A rich industrialist hired us to find his 17 year old girl that had run off with some kind of anarchist into the lower city. Didn't want official searches so no-one would be incentivised to ransom her. Anyway, we found a trail that led to a children's hospital. A lot of young people between the ages of five and 17 had suddenly run away after visiting the place for treatment. Seemed to be a nice place, clean, well funded, really moderate fees. First we thought a vampire had taken station inside and was recruiting a cult or something. Our magpie shaman cooked up some physical masks for the sam and me and we started to take a look around inside.
Didn't end well: By the time we had found out it was to late. They didn't help the children - they killed them. One after the other - mostly by injecting air into their veins. Afterwards a Master Daemon called forth one of those parasites and let them take over the body. He had close to 100 children's corpses in the cellar. Have you ever had to shoot a five year old girl with curly hair and still some of her milk teeth in the head? We hadn't and we couldn't and it killed three of us. I only survived because our Sam went to ultrasound and got the rest of us out, so that we could torch the place.
You know those spirits are sapient. They'll use everything they can to harm the living - what they did with those young stolen bodies just to fuck with us... I'm actually glad this spell prevents me from feeling anything right now."
-
Goodnight takes a moment to turn over Solo's words in her head before responding to him, but when she does its with a smile that is as far from the placating, vapid prettiness as could be. Its a sharp smile, a laughing killer's grin, promising a wild, breathless time ahead of a long, hard death. To Solo she breathes, "Its their adoration, fear, and desire I crave, not their respect. No expatriot street rat will ever be counted amongst their precious fragging circus." She laughs, a low, soft, purring sound. "Notoriety may not be as good as fame, but it will serve well enough."
"Anonymity my pretty friend... anonymity is better than fame and notoriety together."
He look at her grinning.
"You are too good looking to be forgotten tough, and your sensitivity to fashion is intriguing... is that a mono whip you are playing so casually with? " He freazes when she touches his shoulders, his body stifens and he can barely breath, the thought of a monowhip in the hands of someone so unstable, frighten him... He knows rationally that he should be afraid of her mojo much more - but he have seen these whips in action and they are brutal. The fragile and overly emotional girl has the capacity to kill someone from splashing distance. She even seems to like her little mono weapon.
Yet her beuty and physical closeness she is unnaturally attractive, Solo is not sure what makes more impression. Something about her behavior is difference although he cannot pin his finger exactly what the problem is.
When she laughed with Isaint he begins to suspect, did they just acquired the services of two guides at the price of one? It is just an idea - but the woman that is now friendly and almost flirty with Isaint is not the woman that needed her restrainet not physically harm Isaint not long ago.
-
Momentarily distracted from his genteel self-introduction to their new boon companions, Al said, "Isaint, baby, you are bummin' my mellow, man. An' toots, you git outta them glad rags, then yeah, ol' Al's gotta coupla tunes he could name."
Moment for handshakes past, Al wiped his hand on his fatigues as he hurried along beside the floating triple-face. "Now, as I was about ta say, you ever give any thought ta the carnival circuit? We had these outfits,used ta make they way round all the little burgs, hell, they'd pull down three, sometimes four hunnerd a night. Now I can't see why we couldn't take the same idear here in jolly ol' Blighty, an'...."
-
Fortune sidles effortlessly through the group to be nearer Goodnight
"You are mistaken cherie if you think that where we are born determines who is asked to join the troupe...I was born in the cesspit of Marseille! If the Pattern weaves that way... As to adoration and desire..." and he plays a heartbreakingly lovely refrain, "that I can do. Fear? I fear what you might become in your strength and your anger and your pain, but you will tread your own path. Enough, you will see our troupe shortly and perhaps not judge us by Hecate alone, yes?"
-
Goodnight fixes Isaint with a stare colder than a dead star. "Have I killed a young child? Yes." She says shortly. She doesn't elaborate. "You're doing that 'presume to know my life' thing again. Don't. Its tiresome more than anything, and I don't wish to restart our arguments." Then her insolent smile returns and her expression warms. "Don't worry. I have no compunctions about shooting zombies, no matter what form they wear, and I know plenty about Shedim, the things you are calling daemons. Though, admittedly, your reaction is understandable." Even if I don't share it. She refrains from giving her opinion on the quality of his team, or the irony of the man who gave her the speech about 'hurting people is what we do' being unable to shoot a fragging corpse just because it was adorable.
Instead she turns back to face down the tunnel. "I've had experience with body snatchers before, believe me, things even more insidious than a Shedim." Like things that don't kill the victim first. Technology can be just as horrific as magic in its way, and she remembers helping Corby, Trigger, Kink, and Enyo clear the bunraku parlor in Puyallup. She shakes her head to banish the memory and calls, "Its not too far now, I believe." A glance at Hecate and an answering nod confirms her educated guess, and her smile widens. She looks back at Natasha and promises, "We'll get you and your family out of here before too long, to a real bed and a real shower and hot a meal."
She staggers her steps to bring her back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Solo. "No, its a hair clip." She snorts. "Yes, and I am more than passably proficient with it. You can tell because all of my bits are still in their proper place." She twirls it into a flowing series of loops before making it vanish whence it came between twist and turn, and her smile becomes apologetic. "My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by its presence or my cavalier attitude toward it." She inclines her head as she looks him over, weighing his expression and body language and trying to divine what was happening behind his eyes. She had a suspicion, but she didn't want to voice it, lest it give him ideas.
Shrugging artlessly, she says, "My fashion is simply what strikes my fancy at the moment. I am capable of following its trends, and I usually choose to, but that is more for appearances' sake than vanity. Left to my own devices I tend toward the eye-catching and risqué. Perhaps I'll show-" She breaks off as Fortune swans up toward her and turns away from Solo with a genuinely contrite, "Excuse me."
She listens as Fortune speaks, and her expression becomes stormy. "Reading my thoughts, now, gentle play-actor?" She asks archly. She tsks and shakes her head. "I will withhold judgment as you say for now, but your troupe does as little to endear itself to me as I suspect I do for it." She glances back the way that Satire had departed and murmurs, "For all that there are some I would love to see take the stage." She nods to Fortune, resisting the sudden urge to tear off his mask and see what lay beneath and tells him, "You play a lovely instrument." With a glance and a wink back at Al and a determined step forward, she moves away from Fortune and as she walks, her voice rises again. The song she sings now is an old one, a very British one, and her throaty voice gives it a life and warmth the ancient shanty has rarely possessed.
Safe and sound and home again
Let the waters roar, Jack
One more time with glad refrain
Let the chorus soar, Jack
Long we've tossed on the rolling main
Now we're safe ashore, Jack
Don't forget your old shipmates
Faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doh
-
"This story is not about you or what I think of you. Actually, most things I say and do aren't. That was merely a rhetorical expression.
And believe me - I've learned my lesson since then. What I said before stands. It doesn't make it easier to remember their faces, but accepting that someone can both be a victim and a perpetrator was essential to my becoming what I am.
I genuinely hope for your sake that you can keep this chipper attitude if the time comes for you to shoot your loved ones in the face because something stole their soul and put it's own inside. I know it nearly broke me - and it would have if it weren't for my patron and the grace of god."
Isaint nodded to Al: "Sorry, I'll make it up to you once we are done with this gig."
-
Triple-face was clearly not interested in Al's brilliant idea about hitting the rural carnival circuit, so the little man fell back alongside Isaint. "I accept!" he declared loudly, eager to head off another volley of diatribes between the guide and the ork. And in a much quieter voice he confided, "though I'd rather have her do the makin' up, no offense." He let out a low whistle as he appraised the flesh exposed above the tops of her new boots.
"But it's a comfort ta hear someone in this perfession bearin' witness. You a Christian, son?"
-
Goodnight's song breaks off and her eyes widen, then narrow. How dare that stupid fragging tusker piece of drek?! How dare he?! After what she confided about her sister, he would speak to her about loved ones so? And all because she answered his fragging question Goodnight's hand drops back to her monowhip, words of killing power rising to her lips as her free hand curls into a clawlike shape and she starts to turn back toward Isaint, fully intent on making him eat his words, his condescension, and half the cobblestones in the catacombs. She rounds on the team, her fuschia eyes gleaming and her mind bent on murder most foul...
Only to come face to face with Natasha.
The girl looks terrified, but she stands her ground in the face of Goodnight's anger and her wide young eyes meet Goodnight's bright jeweled orbs. "Please..." she whispers, unable to make her voice louder than that timid, breathy sound. "Please don't make us see this." She looks sidelong and Goodnight follows her gaze to see her younger brother, clinging to his mother with all pretense at teenage bravado gone. Behind her, she can feel Hecate and Fortune watching her, Hecate probably ready to interfere. It wouldn't save Isaint if she were hell-bent on killing him, she thinks, but she's not ready to die over an asshole with a bug up his hoop and a superiority complex.
Slowly, she gets herself under control*, and the ugly** expression on her face relaxes into a mocking smile that she shoots over Natasha's shoulder. "Of course, darling." Goodnight coos. "Anything for you." Natasha manages a nervous smile, and Goodnight holds her arms out, embracing the other girl briefly and whispering a totally believable, "I'm sorry for scaring you. It won't happen again."*** She turns away after releasing the girl and returns to her walking, picking up her song where she left off, even as she sends Isaint another message.
<<Get. A. Fragging. Attitude. Adjustment. If you don't want an answer, then don't phrase it as a goddamn question. I don't know you from a hole in the ground, so don't expect me to read the verbal cues off your big mug. You asked. I answered. Your little barb about not being about me was unnecessary, unprofessional, inane, and condescending, and I'm just about fed up with that drek.
And after I tell you about my sister, you have the nerve to talk to me about soulless loved ones. Nice. Real classy. You know for a guy who wants to defend the innocent and protect the helpless and have his warrior's code, you're really good at punching below the belt. I suppose I shouldn't expect better, but given that I've done nothing to you that warrants a personal attack of such magnitude, I'm still a little surprised.
Thank Natasha when you get time.>>
[spoiler=Rolls]*Composure roll not to open up on Isaint in earnest: CHA 13+WIL 5 = 18d6t5 (http://orokos.com/roll/314319): 4
**Intimidation (A general roll to see how terrifying she is. Its just a benchmark, no need to resist): CHA 13+Intim 1+Nasty Vibe = 16d6t5 (http://orokos.com/roll/314320): 5
***Con roll (generalized fast talk/seduction,sweet nothings to get Natasha to be calm and not scared of goodnight): CHA 13+Con 5+ Glamours 1+Mentor Spirit = 21d6t5 (http://orokos.com/roll/314321): 9[/spoiler]
-
She staggers her steps to bring her back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Solo. "No, its a hair clip." She snorts. "Yes, and I am more than passably proficient with it. You can tell because all of my bits are still in their proper place." She twirls it into a flowing series of loops before making it vanish whence it came between twist and turn, and her smile becomes apologetic. "My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by its presence or my cavalier attitude toward it." She inclines her head as she looks him over, weighing his expression and body language and trying to divine what was happening behind his eyes. She had a suspicion, but she didn't want to voice it, lest it give him ideas.
"Lucky one too... " He pauses "Most never get to be skilled with such a fickle weapon." He sighs... "This weapon is the refuge of the desperate seeking power at all cost, even their own well being"
"Even at the cost of your own well being?" He thought, he was overwhelmed with emotions.
"A decision of a moment took 10 years to heal... even now I am not completely sane. " He feels like his mind slides into a nostalgic flashback but he fights it. "No... I do not want THAT to surface ... Do not judge me M... I was desperate"
[/color]
"I said nothing Solo... it is not me you are arguing with"
"So I used experimental technology to cut my mind into multiple fragments... why tormenting me now? "
Some other voice insides Solo's mind say.
"Why did you do so?"
"Ritual magic... I did not want to end up like my mother. I needed a different personality and a different Aura... "
"Why did you REALLY do so?"
"Just shut up abomination... go back to sleep and never wake up again."
Solo is unsure if that voice is still in there, or if it was a bad memory or a specter. M did not hear a thing... to her he was talking to himself again. He wasn't about to give up, not now. He managed to collect his pieces. To assemble a complete personality of the fragments. He became a whole person again. But there was this doubt, have he really assembled all the pieces? Could he leave someone out, someone so dark that his whisper could make Solo's sanity crumble.
"I am not sorry... it was the right decision at the time."
M answered "It is okay boy... it was a long time ago." Solo took comfort in her love. When he is again aware of himself Goodnight is singing again. He likes her voice, she has the tongue of a demon. That woman is full of deadly weapons and contradictions.
Then that thought materialized, Goodnight was not herself, a trained killer willing to take a mans life with that harmless toy she was playing with. Solo took his assault rifle, he really did not want to do so, but you cannot just cut runners in half and expect retribution. His eyes were a little wet, this whole mental storm and to wake up for THAT it was too much for him. Then Natasha with a mere look kept the demon away. Scary lady was smiling again.
Solo lowered his assault rifle and looked at Fortune, he wanted to defuse this tension. Fortune was wearing mask, his mask was unchanged - metaphorically they all did... but these guys were wearing actual masks... perhaps to say that it does not matter who is behind the mask. The mask itself was their real identity... a real identity that never change.
He asked Fortune "Why did you choose these life Fortune? did you always feel so strong about concepts like the pattern or the good of humanity?... You were clearly not the silver spooned type." His eyes light with genuine curiosity.
-
Nitro has been silent for a whie now, trudging through the tunnels in silence finally he speaks. "Isain', Goo'nigh... a momen' o ye 'ime 'lease."
He waits for them to step closer, his glowing cybereyes giving each of them a long, level look before his speaks. Hi tone low and level, not betraying any anger, nor much of any other emotion. "Wha' tha fuckin' 'ell 'as go' inna you two?! We inna mi'le o' a job an tha two o' ye are a' each o'ers fuckin' throa's li'e a pai' o' fuckin' ca's inna we' sack! I though' I was bein' hire' te 'elp ou' some professi'nals, ins'ead I' wal'in' 'ere lissenin te ye two bi'chin' an squalerin' a each o'er. Now, I dunna care 'ho's righ' or wron', o' 'ho's go' tha be'er fuckin' morals or tha wor's fuckin' sob s'orry... I jus' wanna ge' ye two te shu' ye fuckin' ya's a' each o'er an wor' to'er li'e a pair o' fuckin' pros. In'ase ye bee' too bu'y te no'ice we alrea'y anno'er mem'er 'own, we canno' affor' ye two t'yin' te fuckin' kill ea' o'er! We ma'e i' ou'a 'is fuckin' 'ell 'ole ali'e an I'll fin' a figh'in pi' an' fuckin' toss ye bo' in mesself un'il ye've kno'ed enou' 'eeth outta each o'er te be sa'isfie'. Bu' un'il 'en ye bo' kee' ye fuckin' pe'ssonal shi' ou'a it!"
He gives both of them another long, level look,giving them a chance to say their piece, or at the very least agree as they walk along, his drone keeping a careful watch over the family.
[spoiler]Leadership roll to try and get Isaint and Goodnight to co-operate... nothing hard and fast, just a guideline.
Influence Skill Group 4 + Charisma 3
Leadship Test (http://orokos.com/roll/314324): 7d6t5 1 hit and three 1, very nearly a glitch.
ooohhhh boy. This is gonna go over like vegan take out at a ghoul gathering.[/spoiler]
-
Solo approaches Isaint, saying softly "I know it is not you, but this is getting completely unprofessional. You are risking her life man, I almost freaking shot her... I do not know your history... I have no idea what memories you make her re-live. It is probobly not even your fault, but this roller-coaster is endangering the mission and our reputation.
Going crazy and starting to shoot each other is a bad line for our resume. See the bigger picture, we are the most dangerous thing in this place... darker than the Shedim or the spirits of the dead.... by the way, if you do not want to kill them over and over again - just hit them where they are weak - in the astral world."
He texts Goodnight >> What was that all about... I almost shot you, you scared Natasha more than anything else in this dark place. If you continue on this path you will eventually hurt the one person that is not scenery to you. Isaint, me and M, Fortune, and the clowns and even Natasha... we are all guests in your world. You might never see us again...
You honestly should not care too much what we think. You have real power, no one questions that - but despite your strong personality you let a random person you meet push your bottoms. You resisted the mental manipulation you do not like magic changing your emotions... why are you so open to mundane manipulation? Resist that too!
"You should be with your family Natasha. You will be safer there"Solo say with a struggle, it is clear that saying the words pains him.
He listens to Nitro's words his heart is in the right place, they are all edgy.
-
Goodnight gives Nitro a long, appraising look. There's just something about him, some nagging little detail she can't put her finger on...
Finally she nods. "You are right, of course. We should be professional. For example, I am a professional guide hired for my knowledge and ability to survive below rather than my ability to impress and mollycoddle a moralizing group of shadowrunners. I was given to understand I would be listened to rather than challenged or ignored in these matters. So consider your own advice before casting shade on me, sir." She narrows her eyes once more and as she turns away, she says, "Elsewise you might be leaving a child to the tender mercies of below."
Then she is gone, back up to the front of the pack with the Harlequins and her own dark thoughts, passing a silent Natasha, who averts her ryes. Goodnight walks ahead, hoping that something will leap out at them, just so she can vent her towering rage on the damned thing.
-
For the first time since he's joined the group there's actual expression flickering across his face, a confused muddle of anger and regret before both are overcome by the grim expression of someone ruthlessly suppressing something, his voice carries the strain of this as he retorts.
"I'e spen' se'en years t'yin' te forge' tha las' 'ime tha ha'en' te me, al'ough i' was a 'ifferen' kinna 'ell 'ole... I'm no' abou' te le' tha' 'appen a'ain."
[spoiler]Post count 83[/spoiler]
-
Solo texts Goodnight >> Let me protect Natasha, she is not safe around you. You look at her and you see your sister but she is not your sister. She is a poor girl manipulated by your charisma and charm. Don't hurt her when you only want her best.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, Back on Widow’s Way, London Below, London]
It is with some relief that the group find themselves once more back on the ancient Roman processional, and this close to the market it is busier with an eclectic mix of metahumanity both coming and going. They eye the size of the group and wisely press on without trying to come closer or interact beyond those glances…
The subtle music now being played by Fortune flows ahead of you to mingle with the growing sound of a great deal of metahumanity pressed in to a small space and all trying to sell each other things at the tops of their voices. Another refrain joins the music in the air and as the group pass out into a wider space just before the market they are greeted by the promised troupe of clowns… the other denizens of below are keeping a wary but curious distance and so there is nothing stopping the throng of masked elves in their domino garb from moving lithely to surround the small group emerging from the Way.
There are nearly thirty of them all told, and it is clear that at least six are children or adolescents, more from their size than any measurable skill difference. They cavort and sing in a mesmerising display of skill. Then at some hidden signal they all stop motionless and then we a whisper of breath weapons spring to readiness…
It is Fortune who speaks…
“Before we go further, you will give back what you stole from us. It is not for your eyes. I do not wish to rifle through your communications but I will do so if I have to, non?”
***
#38
-
Solo answers softly "This cannot be done now... that data was copied beyond our systems. It was sent to a professional Decker. Even if you erase any copy we locally have - that ship have already sailed. I may have been wrong to do so, and if you intend to draw blood I'll understand, but I will defend myself and it will not return what was taken away from you.
Do not wrong these people for a deed I did alone and on my own will." He politely bows.
-
Now here was a threat to Al's mellow!
It did appear, though, from Solo's tacit admission, that the hacker-wizard had indeed stolen some data from the clowns.
And at this point, Al couldn't even tell who among their number was fighting and sniping at who anymore.
All he really cared about was one thing.
He quietly set himself between the nearest mime and Mrs. Pelletiere and, shotgun hanging loose on its sling, palmed his commlink, glancing to see if they had a decent signal now that they'd about reached this wacky underzone marketplace.
-
Isaint's mask was blank and displayed nothing when he turned around to face Goodnight. Only his eyes were visible - emotionless and blank. He answered the text with his own:
<<If you have trouble understanding me, just assume I am not making fun of you or trying to insult you. This is not my mother's tongue. We can try speaking German if you want.
What I said was nothing but the truth - this was a story about my loss. And you chose to joke about it - at least that is how I understood you. Was I mistaken in that regard?
Also I was not talking about your sister. I clearly stated "IF", making this a hypothetical scenario. As far as I know, your sister still possesses her soul and her body has not been occupied by a Shedim - unlike my late fiancée. As I said: This is not about you.>>
As Nitro tried to defuse the situation, Isaint listened calmly:
"It did not escape my attention that Mel is missing. And I don't intent to kill or harm Goodnight. I appreciate your attempt to defuse this situation - but this is beyond your skill to solve."
He hadn't finished his last sentence before Solo joined them:
"I have no control but of myself. I already explained to Goodnight that there seems to be a misunderstanding. I try to express myself in a foreign language under the effect of a mood altering spell about quite complex issues. Suffice to say that it is not my intention to insult our guide.
Regarding the Shedim: Yes, but sadly my arsenal is still lacking in this regard. I plan to remedy that."
After that he turned back to Al:
"Yes, actually. Born and raised as a catholic. My moniker used to be Ice Saint after the seven saints - but as you can imagine, it took no time at all to shorten that name."
The stand off with the clowns provoked him like Al to stand to Solo's side, his rifle at the ready.
#115
-
Goodnight smiles a grim little smile back Nitro and nods in acknowledgement of his point, but behind her eyes there is still that nagging feeling that she's missing something with him. Turning away from him again as they near the market, her lips move in a whispered incantation as she shores up her own capabilities, raising her speed and reflexes to utterly inhuman levels*, then checked the rest of her gear and magic for readiness.
She sees Solo's message and smothers the spurt of irritation it evokes. <<You have no idea what I see when I look at her. And while she may be scared of me, and you may not trust me, I will still protect her. She is no less safe around me than any other person here, or do you think that I hurt little girls? Anything seeking to harm her will do it over my corpse.>>
It is with a palpable sense of relief that she hears the raucous sounds of Nightside Market, all the haggling and talking and laughing and shouting in a doubledozen languages. A second later she smells it, the redolence of spices, noodles, unidentifiable- but tasty- meats and vegetables grown below, and under that the smell of sweat and oil and metal and other, stranger things, and the sounds and scents of home are enough to even keep her from snapping at Isaint's next message. She is in the middle of composing a quick reply to him, asking if he speaks French any better than English when the Harlequins appear, immediately moving out to surround the small party.
Goodnight's hand drops to yank her monowhip free but she doesn't engage it, not yet. She maneuvers around to place herself between Natasha and as many of the Harlequins as she can, however, and make sure that there's another member of the team behind Natasha rather than a murderous clown-elf. Her stance is relaxed, easy even, but there is nothing in her eyes. Nothing at all.
Slowly, she meets Hecate's eyes and shakes her head. "Don't do this." She says softly in Sperethiel. "We both have children with us. Don't expose them to this. If we must fight, let it be in single combat, or let them leave the fray. Please."**
[spoiler]*Re-quickening Increase Reflexes at Force 8, because I'll be damned if a bunch of shedim or clowns get the best of me.
**Etiquette roll against Hecate - 19d6t5 (http://orokos.com/roll/314456): 9 Successes[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, Back on Widow’s Way, London Below, London]
Hot damn, he had a good signal.
Al looked around at all the posturing and then shrugged off his two shoulder bags and the strap that secured his shotgun, letting it all fall to the ground. He took off his brown leather jacket, revealing a yellowing wifebeater and skinny white tattooed arms. Holding it by the collar, he spread it out on the ground, outside-down, and then settled himself onto it, careful not to step on the interior lining with his Docs as he sat. He unwrapped an energy bar and tossed it past the clowns in the direction of the marketplace, yelled something in Tamasheq, and watched Spike bound after it joyfully, heedless of the mimes' drawn weapons.
He opened a second bar and stuck it between his teeth - if only it was a Lucky Strike - and started manually tapping out a message on his commlink.
-
Goodnight can't resist as Al sits down. He looks so relaxed, and the sheer absurdity of it draws a fleeting grin. <<Ive met enough old hands to know that old habits can calm and focus one's skills. Here. On the house. Ill show you where to get your own once we're inside.>> A blurring flick of her wrist later, which draws more than one tense look and breath, and the cigarette case lands in front of him.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, Back on Widow’s Way, London Below, London]
The rigger's blue eyes flickering around as he assess the situation before suddenly grinning. His armor seems to glow for a bit before he seems to flicker...
Suddenly in his place stands another harlequin, this one wearing a split comedy/tragedy mask with blood red glowing eyes. There is one key difference between this one and the others, the outfit and form beneath it is showing a graphic depiction of what close range flechette blasts do to a metahuman body. Outfit rent, wounds and mouth dripping blood it raises it's milspec assault shotgun, with a *click* the choke reconfigures to it's wide setting as it is leveled at the tightest cluster of harlequins... irregardless of age or what is behind them.
A multitude of voices speak simultaneously from the surroundings. "Why do you bring this dance here fate-weavers? This music is for those with whom you have quarrel, and yet you have brought those who would fight with automatic weapons into the midst of innocents."
[spoiler]Creating a Trideo Hologram
Artisan 2 + Intuition 4 + Trideo Hologram specialization 2
Trideo Artisan Roll (http://orokos.com/roll/314553): 8d6t5 6 hits
Mental limit is 5
WHOA did not expect that kind of roll![/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~05:58, Back on Widow’s Way, London Below, London]
Tapping laboriously on his screen - hadn't wanted anyone to overhear a voice-to-text - Al saw the message from Goodbye (why was her text signature Goodnight?) and then, just like Christmas in hell, there was the hippy-witch's cigarette case.
Spike was already bounding back towards him, but before the huge black dog was halfway back Al threw his own bar back the other way, sending the dog scurrying off in delight. Couldn't very well have him in the crossfire if this went to shit.
He put one of the proferred smokes between his lips, shamelessly pocketed the case, and lit up the cigarette. Glancing with appreciation at Nitro's ingenuity, he reflected that he'd better enjoy it - the way these threats were escalating, it could well be his last.
-
Solo looks at Al ISaint and the rest all tensed up. He tell them "Guys, please... give me a chance these aren't the first people I hacked, and these aren't the first people I pissed up. If it is my time to go, it is my time to go, It is a professional hazard. You stick to your job - there is no fame in dying - and they are too many and you cannot protect me from them. I do not wish anybody to die in my name - I have taken enough life in the past. I am the villain, not some saint that is worth saving"
To Fortune he said trying to defuse the tension.
"I know you have come through a lot of effort with your show of force, I appreciate it. That data must be precious to you and the tapestry. I'll tell you what, I will make you an offer something that is within my power to grant. "
He pasues trying to build a little bit of tension.
"The reason you all flocked here is that I posses a rare combination of talents, I managed to cross your firewall, dodge your agent and grab some data. I did so in order to figure what you were really after. I never trust what people tell me, especially powerful people...
True, I was detected and it is indeed a flaw in my capabilities, I will continue to train and improve these capabilities. Your security was very solid, and the conditions were far from ideal - you witnessed a great decker in action. One that is also an established mage. Not only decker and a mage, but someone that likes poetry too " He laughs shortly and then smiles his million dollar smile.
He is proud of his capabilities, he earned the data and was not going to apologize for taking it.
"Sure you have the number advantage, but it still does not change the fact that I am more useful to you as alive as a contact - than dead. If I am gone, you will notice that my capabilities are not so easily replaced. I am the best that money can buy and you will find me extremely useful to your cause in the future."
Solo feels happy, he told them the entire truth. Their defense was especially strict and he got inside anyhow. He did so while maintaining a powerful illusion spell - and he had a spirit that few people can summon channeled in his body. It was indeed an impressive display of skill, in both magic and decking. Few runners were capable of such feats.
He tries to guess Fortunes reply under the mask, and Solo is not sure if to extend his hand or ready his gun. One thing Solo knows - he did not get to his current standing by avoiding risks. He wasn't vengeful and was always loyal to whomever employed him - providing the employer kept his end of the deal. He was on nobodies side - and his link number was a great addition to anyone that wanted to get stuff done.
-
"Saints die for their belief. That's how they get to be saints."
A private message to Solo read: <<Just show them you delete your local content of their data and send a request to your contacts to delete the new data as thorough as they can manage. You selling your skills to them can't hurt either.>>
#116
-
Solo texts Isaint:
>> I do not lie to people I want to work with. I really cannot undo what was done.
What you are suggesting will not have the effect you think. My contact have probobly already shared their data in a shadow grid and right now the best minds in the shadows are trying to crack it for their own hidden agendas. It is easy to throw a stone to the ocean but it is very difficult to take the same stone out of the ocean.
That contact and I are blood, he knows that I will never ask him something like that. Data is not only my life it is my personal security. If I am dead or compromised - all my secrets from all my career goes to public grids. I salvaged many secrets over my years and this pact is what kept me alive so far. Former victims and employers are personally invested in my continual survival. If anything, having that data away and controlling just how public it gets is my insurance policy.
If you think they want an empty 'delete data' gesture and are too silly to discover that it was too late. I do not agree, I think it was better to tell the ugly truth to the face. People can forgive you for many things - but lying like that makes enemies.
.
-
Goodnight gives a long, lazy look around. Violence is brewing on the air, and for the first time in a year, she welcomes it. Her SecondSkin goes a smoky grey color, and the back, from neck to hips, disappears entirely. Her collar is glowing with opalescent fire, and on her back is a glowing LED tattoo of bright green feathers with silver bones. A celtic knot in the same color is visible on the point of her right hip, and a slowly-rippling biotattoo in basic black, a ring and halo symbol, becomes visible through the grey opposite it.
"Frag fame. Frag fame, and saints, and numbers." Goodnight says idly. "I have a job to do. I will guide you through Below, all of you. We are not through Below, and I was picked to deal with the threats we might face. I admit to not expecting murderous clowns with a deathwish, but needs must..." She looks at Isaint, and the smile she shoots him is a wicked little thing, full of promise and malice, but not directed at him. For him, the expression is approving, even comradely. "Can you handle your end?" She asks calmly. "Because if they make a move, I figure Nitro will turn the first five or so into samosa filling, and then it will be up to us."
As she speaks, she sends a quick message to ShadowDancer and Girl Flower. Girl Flower wasn't guaranteed to show up, but ShadowDancer, her sister Victoria, would. In a fit of curiosity, she'd once clocked her sister's speed. She'd always been fast, but HMHVV had turned the sweet girl into a bullet with legs. Should could run better than twenty meters per second and sustain it. At a sprint, she simply defied clocking. Her home was approximately a klick and a half of tunnels away. She does a bit of math, figuring in the time to grab the sword and wargear, and then best speed and came up with ninety seconds. Goodnight nods to herself. Good enough.
<<Trouble at Nightside's east entrance. Murderous elf clowns. GF, if you're in the area your mojo would be welcome. We might need some patching up afterwards. SD, get your ass in gear. This might be a show, and we've got scared kids with us. And...bring the blade. Time to remember old lessons.>>
-
<<In that case, let's hope they are rational and not a bunch of emotion driven freaks that want to see you destroyed even if it could cost them their own life and/or safety. So in case this get's ugly: Nice having known you.>>
Isaint just nodded to Goodnights question. Better to keep this short and without any further misunderstandings.
Isaint's coat did not change to ridicule or inflame the clowns - it just turned a muddy brown texture to blend in with the environment as did his mask. It probably wouldn't help much, but every little thing counted in a fire fight.
-
Solo looks at Goodnight and say "Please, I do not wish any of this... We are all tense but there is already enough death in my story." To Isaint he texted: >>It was indeed a fun ride. The murderous emotional one is our beautiful guide, these people follow seers and calculations about the tapestry and the total good of humanity. I do not sure they will behave like you describe. For some odd reason they tried to protect us, they could just ignore us and let us deal with the Shedim ourselves.
He texts Goodnight >> I beg you beautiful and disturbed girl. I understood that somehow you are both delicate and gentle and a killer. Sometimes you are the kind that slaps when you get angry and in other times anger lead to the monowhip.
Look at Natasha - consider things from her eyes, she is still young. She has done nothing to deserve all this. What are you offering me? a massacre as the good result and us dying as a bad result. These things are totally unaccepted. It will scar Natasha and William, it will scar their parents. They may never recover from either scenario.
This is not a story I want to tell, please, my sins are great and their weight is heavy.
There may come a day where you feel the same - that you do not want to kill anymore. Maybe then what I am saying will make sense to you, but now please respect my wishes.
I do not wish anyone to die in here, if somebody has to die it is best be me this mess is my own doing. Saving me is not your job, it endanger your job. Think about your sister, look at Natasha, they wouldn't want you to do that.
-
Goodnight's reply comes almost immediately.
<<They're already scarred. They have been beset by men and monster, lost their home, their peaceful little lives, and any hope of security or safety. Even if this extraction is completed, they will be marked by it for the rest of their lives. Ask yourself what would be more damaging, seeing those appointed their protectors slaughtering the strange, inhuman, near-alien harlequins, or seeing the man they've seen fight to protect them throw his life away for no reason?
And don't call me girl. I'm a woman, and I swear to god that if one more person talks to me like a child or an idiot, I will add them to my list of things to exterminate today.
Now, we will try not to massacre them. I don't always kill when I fight. But if they make a move, my reputation and my ability to survive in Below depend on me being fast, decisive, and taking no drek from anyone. I one hundred percent do not care if you want to make some noble sacrifice. If those clowns make a move and don't leave me any choice, I will stack their bodies like cordwood and I'll sing a cheerful tune while I do.>>
Then carefully, moving in slow, deliberate motions, Goodnight shuts off her commlink. Good luck stealing data from a dead piece of plastic and optical chips.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~06:05, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Despite the palpable tension and drawn weapons the Harlequinade seem relaxed, their poses suggesting jovial amusement…
Hecate’s triple voice ripples
“Single combat? We are not in the Wild West! And we do not need to prove ourselves to you. We do not kill for sport or pleasure or even for expediency, even we cannot see the full extent of the Pattern and what effects the loss of a single life needlessly taken might have. There are some that shine brighter in the Pattern, many of you here have that effect and we would be foolish to snuff those out. Do we disappoint you…?
Yet you stole from us, information is as valuable to us as to you and our secrets should not be lightly revealed. Give us the name of the person to whom you sent the data and our Muses will try to limit the damage done. We will take your offer of a future favour… I do not doubt that our paths will intersect in the Pattern ahead.
You go into the market now, if you wish to leave anything with us, that buzzing monstrosity perhaps…?” as she indicates the Bumblebee hovering somewhere near her head “then we will keep them safe for you here. We perform tonight at sundown, we hunt our foe tomorrow. Join us if your fates permit it, revel in the ancient and the new sagas, perhaps even dance with us? Cross blades if that is your desire.
Fortune, send out your sprites, recover what is lost, and we will use the secondary protocols for now…”
With no visible command but with a fanfare and flurry of moment the clowns disengage, leaping and bounding to put themselves a respectful distance from the group, although they are still in the entrance to Nightside…
One figure that had been standing aloof however approaches…rather than the motley of the others he wears a skull mask and a machine gun is cradled on his hip, bourn by an additional mechanical arm of bone and biofibre…
“Guthrie? What are you doing in the middle of this mess…?”
***
#39
-
Isaint nodded at the leader and put the rifle back on his shoulder: "A really commendable philosophy. Godspeed."
After their guides dispersed Isaint turned to Goodnight: "First things first. The family needs a secure place to rest - I trust you know a friendly bar or hostel where we can set them up for a few hours. We'll also need to buy them some necessities."
#118
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~06:05, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
"Heh heh. Messes is where I seem ta be spendin' most o' my time these days."
Al looked up from his perch on the ground. He didn't get up.
"But ta answer yer question, kemo sabe, reckon I'm sendin' a text while these hotheads sort theyselves out."
As the clowns drifted away, Spike came bounding back, and Al put a skinny arm around the dog's neck, dragging its slobbering snout down into his lap. Scratching the back of the animal's head, he continued, "But, well sir, maybe it's that groovy halloween mask, or maybe it's that extra arm that's throwin' ol' Al's mem'ry off, but I'm afeard ya have me at a disadvantage."
-
To Goodnight >> I am sorry for the bad use of words, woman definitely but start acting as one, adults control their anger. Being the biggest and toughest is good for a while, but there will always be someone bigger out there. I do not socialize that way. I am many things but noble is not one of them. Deckers are often grabbed extracted, threatened and bullied. At the end of the day we provide a service that is in high demand. Killing us is just bad for business, eventually these methods extend our cycles of employment. There is always the risk but I like my odds better with words and wits. I must be getting old and soft, but I will be a little sad if you or Natasha die because I am too scared to go through with my decker philosophy.
To Hecate he said: "I am afraid that I will have to disappoint you again. I am truly sorry but there is one thing in this business that you should understand, if I am to start selling out my friends I am already dead. Appreciate me for what I am, you wouldn't want me sending angry customers to your backyard as well. Think about it and you will find that deep down you actually hoped me to give you this answer.
If you care about my professional opinion, I think you are relatively safe. From brief examination your code seemed complex and you are aware that your data was compromised. By the time that code is broken you will already be using a new one. Everything you will do to interfere with this code is an admission of importance, it will give context to an otherwise random piece of information. Metaphorically, you cannot stop the ripple effect of a stone cast into a lake by throwing in another stone.
If you must take the path of active action...
He sighs, the words do not come easily to Solo. "I do respect force, and it goes against my judgement. But I can provide you a handle, a bread crumb to lead you eventually to a position of power outside of the shadows. However, you cannot call me friend if you follow that path. So it is either my cooperation or a bread crumb. Even as a future employer, and even if you have the tactical upper hand. Even then you should respect the red lines of my profession.
The only reason I am even suggesting giving you this, is because with the amount of firepower you brought you could as well take this breadcrumb by force."
As the clowns retreat, Solo nods at Al. "Thanks" He say. Maybe it is an age thing, but Solo prefers it like that. A silent raise of a gun, no discussion. Sometime avoiding actions works better than acting.
To the rest he said: "I am sorry you had to experience it all." He hated to admit it but he sort of liked these creepy and arrogant people. Solo always try to achieve his goals with the minimal amount of necessary force. He has an assault rifle - but firing it is only after the more subtle approaches fails.
He looked at the newly arriving target with curiosity, "who is Guthrie?" . Eyeying the group, he thought "did he refer to Al as Guthrie?" .
-
"But, well sir, maybe it's that groovy halloween mask, or maybe it's that extra arm that's throwin' ol' Al's mem'ry off, but I'm afeard ya have me at a disadvantage."
The figure laughs, a disturbing graveyard chuckle presumably the result of voice mod tech, and pulls the grinning skull away to reveal a typically good looking keeb, although with a few extra wrinkles...
"Requiem, I'm a friend of Silk's...although I've not seen her since I've been dancing with my new comrades..." he reaches down, either to shake hands or perhaps to pull Al off the floor...
-
Al took the hand up without hesitation. "Well then, any friend o' Silk's...." Damit, now he remembered this guy. That party last year...He held up his commlink. "Reckon that's who I was just textin'. Crazy coincidence, or is that girl's reach even longer'n ol' Al had imagined? "
-
Isaint looked questioningly at the newcomer. Friends in unexpected places were alright, but the number of people that just found their way to them had to bring them sooner than later another hit-team.
Only when he heard Al say that he requested the help did he relax.
"Hi there, or as we'd say at home: Servus." He looked at Al again: "This "Silk" is a friend of yours? Anything we should know about that before anyone of this group feels the need to start a hacking operation?"
-
Al took advantage of Isaint's greeting to thumb 'send' on the text he'd been typing, after adding a brief postscript.
The text read:<<Haven't wrapped the deal quite yet, but I'll take you up on your offer. Start reaching out to her, see what sort of deal she can offer (1) the package (plus three, they stay together, non-negotiable) and (2) the delivery team. Serious, serious pressure; don't know how long package will remain viable. Deal also needs to include support at the delivery, as it will probably be a hot handover. PS - is Requiem still good people and did you send him?>>
Then Isaint was talking to him. "Yeah, we can trust her. We's tight. Now, my new friend here," he grinned at Requiem, "well, this is only our second meetin'. But don't worry, no one's hackin' 'im."
He turned his gaze to Solo.
"Fella, what you done did, I can sure see yer reasons. But not tellin' us, well, that there - an' what it led to - were worse fer this job an' this team than all the bickerin' an' feudin' an' threats we done suffered through over the last few hours. Far as I'm concerned, yer inna doghouse till further notice. So I'm sayin', Req here's with ol' Al, an' ain't no one hackin' 'im."
He helped himself to another cigarette from Goodbye's box before tossing it back to her. Then he looked at Solo again before the man could speak. "An' before ya start one o' those epic philosophizations at me, just assume that I ain't listenin', an' my answer'll be... ya ain't hackin' 'im."
"Now, milady, what Isaint said - we need somewhere fer these folks ta catch they breath. An' more urgently than that, now we got a signal, we need just five damn quiet minutes ta set down and have a proper talk with ma an' pa here."
-
Goodnight catches the box deftly and tucks it back whence it came. Her SkinSuit fades back to opaque white and her tattoos vanish as she flicks her commlink back on. As it reboots, she looks at Al. "Milady?" She asks with a smirk. "Oooh, fancy. You are, of course, correct." She pulls up the entry on Nightside and looks it over to see if anything new has appeared since she last checked it, then purses her lips as she sees the line about herself.
Goodnight points behind her and says, "That market has anything you could possibly want. Just beyond it is a hotel, such as it is. We don't want to try to make Nightsbridge tonight anyway." She creates an ARO and hands it off to Isaint. "The place is named 'Nacht.'" She tells him. "Just cut straight through here and out the other side. Its about a hundred meters further on. You can't miss it. Try German, the owner is ex S-K from the Rhine-Ruhr Megaplex."
She turns to Al and Solo. "There's a cybercafé down one level, next to Le Fin du Chair. That's a cyberclinic, by the way." She adds, glancing at Nitro. "You can get tune-ups and upgrades if you need them, and MeatSpace has booths and a stable uplink. If you want more privacy than that you'll need a room, but Nacht has drek for reception."
Goodnight looks at the team at large. "Don't go past the hotel or leave the market, and you'll be fine." She says evenly. "I can't be responsible for you if you venture outside of those bounds right now. I have to go do something, it should take me about an hour and a half. Then I'll come by Nacht to grab Natasha and Mrs. Pelletiere and take them shopping." She dimples. "Some things women have to do without men. Nitro can shadow us with his drones, and I'm calling in a little assistance to help keep the ladies safe. Isaint, you'd probably be a better choice to take the Doctor and William."
-
To Al, "Yes sorry about that... we had our mind manipulated, and they seemed very odd. I figured I'll have a look at them with a different sense. The matrix is often outside of the reach of Mojo, it was and still is a good option. I am still not sure that they are completely honest with us, from what I understand in this data they were interested in us long before our meeting in the catacombs. I am still digging on this stuff trying to get a heads up, this is my job and I am sorry I was sloppy. I don't usually get caught. One thing you can be certain about, I do not need a justification or a permission to hack - but I do not mind to burn for my crimes. Besides, perhaps I made some new and powerful contacts. "
To Goodnight: "It is okay you do not need to babysit me, I actually need to buy reagents I am going to start binding spirits because troubles seem to follow us every were we go and I'll feel a lot safer with a couple of them watching our back.We already lost two mages, so I am trying to pull my weight in that front to cover some of the ground.
Any idea for a cool place for some magical supplies around here? Also when you have some time - if you can explain a little bit about how you do this counter-spelling thing. It was very cool how you just teared that spell into pieces. I afraid I am a bit sketchy on magic. "
To Isaint, Nitro and the rest: "After I gave everybody a good scare... how about I buy us a couple of drinks?"
-
Al listened with increasing alarm to Goodbye, and not at all to Solo.
To the latter, he said, pointing at Requiem, "Yer not hackin' 'im."
But Goodbye had his full attention. "No. You, or anyone else, wanna go gallavantin' around this cockamamie place on yer own, I ain't gon' stop ya. But yer not splittin' up the package. These four stay together. Or ya kill me. Thanks fer the smokes, by the way."
He took a drag. He didn't like talking that way. He mostly liked to go with the flow. But he'd abandoned three companions for this family. It was a heartbreaking choice he was sure would haunt him. But if he had to make a choice between, say, protecting William or going after a lost Natasha - no. He'd stick with them. All of them.
Besides which, splitting up was just plain B-movie stupid.
"Now then, this cafe sounds perfect. Not fer drinks. We go there, we set things in motion for the damned endgame on this hootenanny, then we get 'em into this hotel 'til they's good ta move again. An' given what we's been up against so far, I'd request that as many as can stick with us, keep 'em safe."
He turned to Requiem. "Sorry ta be unsociable, but inna middle o' somethin'. Welcome to walk with, if'n it strikes yer fancy. Git reacquainted some."
-
Solo laughed... "Despite that groovy mask I'll try to restrain myself... " He then introduced himself to the guy: "I am Solo... a not so brilliant decker."
To Goodnight: "I think Al is right... we should keep all of them in the same place, this family is very hot - they should have as many of us in their eyesight- they can go shopping when they have new cooperate life."
-
Nitro's stance is tense, a hair-trigger from violence, a mere though away from unloading razor sharp shrapnel into the crowded area, his holographic harlequin look dripping blood... but they continued to talk, slowly it seems that an agreement might be reached he relaxes his stance a bit.
Eventually the harlequins disperse and he lowers the shotgun, another flicker as the hologram vanishes, the glows dissipating from his armor as it settles back to its typical blue flame look. His cybereyes are unreadable, his face calm and impassive... it's difficult to tell what if anything, he felt about potentially opening fire in such a space with such a possibility of innocent bystanders getting caught in the crossfire.
The skull faced figure gives him pause, but Al at least seemed to be expecting him so he relaxed, listening in on the conversations.
The mention of a cyberclinic did catch his notice, he'd been planning some upgrades, but it's likely he wouldn't have time. He nodded to Solo at the mention of a few drinks while he turned possibilities over in his mind.
-
"Don't tempt me." Goodnight snarls at Al. "Fine. Call me when you're ready to move on. Don't leave the market." Her eyes narrow. "And the next time you need a guide, tell Torrent to get you a fragging robot. A guide that you don't listen to, or even weigh the advice of is simply a waste of his money and said guide's time." Then she pivots, not responding to Solo and tells Isaint, "I'll go by Night with what necessities I can shop for by eye. The rest will apparently have to wait for Al to work that stick out of his ass."
Goodnight makes it about ten meters before there is a blur of motion coming down the long wide corridor opposite the team, almost too fast to see. Goodnight catches it though, moving in a white blur to face the oncoming dark one, bracing herself with her arms out. The dark one has something in its hand- a sword- and it arrows for Goodnight, crashing into the buxom dryad with a shout.
"FEE!"
The team is treated to a brief flash of a pale face with red eyes, bright lavender hair and a huge smile underneath a dark hood before Goodnight is crushing her in a full-body hug. "Hey, Jelly Bean!" Goodnight exclaims. Her own smile is broad and cheerful and her anger has melted into almost oppressive good cheer as she lets the other woman free from the hug and slides an arm around her shoulders. The rest of their conversation is lost in the din of Nightside, but Goodnight is more animated than the team has seen her and clearly much more joyous as the two converse back and forth in rapid, quiet Sperethiel.
-
"So she is not the sharing type... Oh well."
Thinks Solo, probobly she is too volatile to be near.
And you were a beacon of stability. Thought M.
"I wasn't... I wasn't but I am now
Because you locked your emotions away.
"My *EMOTIONS* were so dark, they made me a serial killer.
You didn't even care if these clowns kill you.
"Keep your cool best in negotiation.
But you have no more fear, you became numb.
"and I don't kill people, ain't life great.
I thought you were making progress with Tammie - are you just going to leave her?
"Do you really think she'll ever accept the real me? be honest with yourself.
It is probobly for her best... it is either you leave the shadows or you leave her, we agreed about that.
"There are some things about humans you still cannot understand. I do not belong in the light"
You leave a girl after a year, and all you can feel is slight sadness... you were happy together.
"It was just a dream she never met me."
You became reckless Solo, be very careful. It takes more and more to excite you.
"M - metahumans die get over it. One of these days someone will get me. "
You can stop burning your money and plan a retirement.
"Are you crying M? "
I do not know what I feel... it is confusing. I never felt it before. Whats happening?
"The channeling... it changes you. It changes me, i think I felt something for Natasha and then towards Goodnight as well. When she held that monowhip I was afraid. I am not afraid when I skydive, I am not afraid when I am caught. Why was I afraid when I saw her playing with it?"
Maybe you did not want her to hurt herself?
"You give me too much credit M, that weapon is scary - it slice people like butter."
Were you ever afraid of dying?
"Not since... you know when."
Exactly.
"But I nearly shot her a moment later. When she was about to strike Isaint"
And you were crying. I felt it it made you extremely sad. Like I am now.
"I do not know M... you are making me sad too now."
Solo's eyes became wet.
Then this pale faster than life elf was running and hugging goodnight.
Must be her sister.
"Maybe."
Shortly after Solo said in Sperethiel with a slight accent this is clearly not his mother tongue although he knows it well enough to have a conversation.
"Hello there." He said. "We are SaM" it was odd to introduce himself in plural but he did not feel right speaking just for himself when it was clearly M that wanted to meet the woman. He bowed, and removed a lonely tear from his eye.
-
The new arrival is clearly cut from the same cloth as her sister; pretty and pale, with huge blue eyes, perfect skin, and a heartbreakingly lovely voice. Dressed in a grey pleated miniskirt that probably costs more than a sarariman makes in a month and a sleeveless blouse of burgundy silk that clings to her body over black boots, she oozes a style beyond the ephemera of the usual rich teenager, and the flowing black hooded cloak she wears adds a hint of mystery to her. She carries no weapons that Solo can see, but she burns nearly as brightly as Goodnight in the astral, quickened spells and foci clinging to a powerful form that is spiderwebbed with the dark tendrils of an HMHVV-I infection. She looks to be about sixteen, no older than Natasha.
She dips a curtsy, her fingertips touching the edges of her skirt and her face splits into a cheerful, dazzlingly bright white smile, though her teeth don't part far enough her fangs. "Enchanté, sir and lady!" She exclaims. "Always a pleasure to see new people Below! My name is Victoria, but everyone just calls me Vicki or Dancer." Her eyes flicker over SaM, sizing him up at light speed, and she produces a small handkerchief of dark red silk, monogrammed in silver with the initials "VSC." She hands it over, nodding at his face, then turns to examine the rest of the group, still standing back. She flashes Natasha another lovely smile, then favors William with a second, no doubt short-circuiting his brain. She even makes sure to catch Isaint and Al's eyes before asking Goodnight, "Well? Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friends?"
Goodnight blinks and laughs helplessly before turning to the team and starting, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is my sister Victoria. Yes, she's always like this."
-
"Thank you Vicki" Said Solo. "I am not even sure why we are sad... M is moody sometimes." He laughs. Goodnight describe her as a young girl in need of protection, but Solo see a powerful mage in front of him. Clearly more powerful than most, despite her young age.
Solo returns the handkerchief to Vicky saying: "Now you can always find us." he figures that he just handed Vick a materiel link to his body. Solo Smiles at her and ask: "So do you like dancing Vicki? "
-
Nitro look up at the speeding blur, concerned about another new threat before it became clear it was someone close to Goodnight. Now that things where calming down again he felt something tugging at him again but shook it off. As the introductions started to be made the flamboyant rigger adjusts his armor, getting it settled just right, his flaming blue display of hair eyes and armor in full swing. He steps forward "'ell if 'ere ma'in int'oduc'sions 'all me Nitro, I'm jus' 'ere te..." as the newcomer turns to face the rigger he gets a clear look at her face and stops dead, confusion and shock clearly visible on his face as he barely manages to avoid dropping his gun.
"Wha.. wha.. 'ow... i's im'ossible.. ye was..." he stops, holding a hand over his eyes and shaking his head. "No.. no.. isain' righ' wa se'in yea's a'o... bu'... bu' ye ain' chan'ed.. juss... jussye 'air i' differen'..." The clearly confused rigger drops his hand, clearly unable to believe what he's seeing, and unable to deny it.
-
Vicki's smile widens. "Of course! What girl doesn't?" She sways in place to a beat only she can hear, then looks back at Solo with an urchin's grin. "A girl needs a hobby. I'd like to go to school for it, but..." she shrugs. "Fee says she'll find a way. I trust her." Vicki says simply. "She's never let me down before." She reaches out to take the handkerchief and says, "I'll make sure this goes away when I get home. I have others. If I need to find you, I've already assensed you. I can find your lovely lady companion now." She touches Solo's shoulder and softly tells him, "Don't cry, SaM. Bad for the badass 'runner image."
Vicki rounds on Nitro as he approaches. She blinks, confusion evident on her pretty features before she gets the measure of his argot, but then it returns as she parses his words. Beside her, Goodnight's expression is a close match, but there is something in it, a slowly dawning horror as her subconscious begins to remember something her conscious mind had long since forgotten. Vicki, oblivious to her sister's distress, tells Nitro, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite follow that." Her brow furrows, and she looks at Goodnight for clarification, only for her face to draw into a worried frown as she takes in her sister's look. She hugs Goodnight impulsively, and with her face next to Goodnight's, the resemblance is unmistakable. Stepping back, Vicki looks between the two of them and asks, "Anyone wanna clue me in here? Fee, sweetie, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
-
His cybereyes flicking between Vicki and Goodnight, his usual flamboyance deflating as he leands against a nearly pillar, aparantly need to the support to stay upright, the milspec shotgun hnaging from one nearly nerveless hand.
His voice is shaking slightly, looking like someone recalling something they've been trying very hard to forget. "Se'in yea's a'o... a mil' run 'ey sai'... ge'in te tha el-cee-zee, finni's el'ish 'irl an 'et 'er ou'... onnatha wor' runs e'er 'een on... los' e'erone else... juss'arel ma'e i' ou' mesself... sa's tha 'irl..."
-
"It was you....the chip..." Goodnight whispers. "You were the 'runner on the ladder! Your team leader was...an ork with cyberarms...your mage died hauling you up out of the fight..." she shakes her head as if trying to dislodge something. "I...you looked at me...when the Vory were..." she gulps and closes her eyes tightly. "You...l-l-l..." Her eyes snap open, tears suddenly streaming down her face and shrieks, "YOU LEFT ME!" Her voice is heartbreaking, her glamour turning the expression of grief and rage into an emotional suckerpunch carrying almost a decade of pain and terror and nightmares and regret and she springs for Nitro, her hands reaching out. She is incredibly fast, spurred on by magic and rage and she's across the space in an eyeblink, her hands closing in on Nitro's throat.
But she is still only a metahuman, with a metahuman's limitations.
Vicki hits her from the side, moving faster than any normal mortal, her vampirism speeding her up until she's little more than a flickering shadow. She slaps Goodnight's hands up. Goodnight, no longer really seeing anything but the horrors of the past moves to strike her sister, but Vicki gets a hold of her wrist and throws her with no apparent effort, an aikido-style movement that ends up with Goodnight on the floor. Fast she may be, but she is no stronger than any other elf her size, and Vicki kneels on her wrists, pinning her in place as she thrashes and screams and cries. Vicki looks up at Nitro and snaps, "Tranq her! Before she remembers she can throw lightning!"
-
"Tha.. tha la'er.. ye... Spec'er trie' te pull me u'... the'... the' I fell.." The glamoured backed scream hits him like a truck, the milspec shogun clattering to the ground as it falls from his grip, leaving him able to do little but recoil at Goodnight leaps for his throat.
When the furious runner is pulled off him he collapses, confusion, shock, frustration and regret playing across his face.. more emotion in those few seconds than you've seen him display in the last few hours. As Vicki yells at him to tranq Goodnight he shakes his head helplessly, voice still shaking. "I... I soul'ave die' fro' tha fall... 'ree s'ories onna con'rete. How offen ye 'ear o' som'one sur'ivin' a fall li'e tha? I only sur'ive' cos I lan'ed o' Spec'er, som'owe we swappe' possi'ion mi'air an she hi' tha groun' firs'." his eyes close, teeth clenched as he continues talking "Eve'ythin' hur'... how, how I was s'ill ali'e I dunno, how I ha'n't pro'en any'hin' is an e'en bi'er mis'ery." he looks back to the raging runner. "I lef' you yes. I 'ad jus' seen me en'ire 'rew kille', I coul' barely stan', I was alon' inna 'arzone 'atwine two lossa Vo'y tryin' te kill ea' o'er, an' I was alon' inna mi'le an 'air 'ame fer bo'."
-
Goodnight is too far gone to hear him. She thrashes, clearly furious but also shattered, years of healing undone in an instant and her cries are horrible, lovely in pitch and tone but full of pain. She claws at her sister, trying to throw the slender banshee off of her, but to no avail. As Victoria tries to pin her down there is a frisson of power and the smell of ozone and she throws her hand in Nitro's direction. Victoria shouts and grabs her sister's fingers, and her magic wars with Goodnight's. She stops the spell, barely, shuddering at the effort it takes. Then, her face anguished, Victoria draws back her hand and hits her sister, a vicious blow that wrenches the dryad's head around and knocks her out cold. Vicki slumps, then stands and pulls her skirt back down from where it rode up her thighs. Kneeling, she picks up Goodnight's shoulders. "It was you. The 'runner that left her with the Vory. The one that kidnapped my sister in the night." Her voice is sad but not angry, and she looks down at her sister. "You can't hold it against her anymore than I could hold it against you. She knows, intellectually, that you couldn't have saved her. But..." Vicki shakes her head. "She had a hard life after that night."
-
Nitro rubs his face a little, the emotion in him starting to fade again. "Ya, tha 'as me. One o' me firs' runs... an' pro'lly tha mos' si'ways I'e 'ad a 'un go. Fi'e o' us wen' iina tha el-cee-zee, I onlyjuss ba'ely ma'e i' ou' mesself... a con'ussion, in'ernal bruisin', inclu'in' a ki'ney a'n hai'line frac'ures o' se'eral bones. Tha place... iwassa fuckin' wa'zone, annall I 'ad wassa Remin'on 990, so I ran... an I saw'ha loo' onye sis'er's face when I turne'... issa loo' I 'een spen'in' se'en yea's t'yin' te for'et." the human rigger picks up his shotgun again, looking at it impassively like he would a piece of a puzzle. Finally he lets it swing down shaking his head. "Isstrain'e, I hanna thou' o' tha' nigh' in yea's... a' ye' ba' 'ere, innose ca'acombs.. I reme'erd i'."
He looks at the two, flickers of emotion crossing his face, but not as strong this time without the weight of shock behind them before he werdlessly offers to help with the other shoulder.
-
Isaint had just upgraded his map when Al had his little say. "Thanks, that hotel looks good. But I too agree with Al: No more splitting up."
To Solo he said: "As enticing as it sounds, but there will be no alcohol for me before this whole thing is done and under wraps. But feel free to have one for me too."
With a few mental commands he informed his supplier where he should send the ordered equipment by courier drone. When he checked his balance he cursed audibly: "Verdammte Halsabschneider!"
Too a quizzical looking Solo he just said: "My other life catched up with me and the ADL has already taken its cut from my earnings. I'm lucky I kept my balance up, otherwise we could have added tax investigators to our growing number of visitors."
His train of thought was derailed as Goodnight's sister appeared. He couldn't help himself but reach for his gun when the blur crashed into their guide.
Then the whole drama with Nitro and Goodnight unfolded. As Vicky called for someone to stun her sister he instinctively reached for his taser only to remember that he had lend those to the family. His Savalette was still loaded with APDS and the other one... no. He had just drawn and reloaded the semi-automatic with gel ammunition when the banshee solved the problem with her own kind of tranquilizer.
He put the gun away and shook his head: "Like walking through a fucking minefield."
This was entirely to public for his taste: "OY, as hard as it might be for you, but we need to get out of the public here. Get yourselves together. Once we have our rooms at the hotel, we can continue this conversation.
Oh, and by the way: Hello Victoria, I am called Isaint - Goodnight has told us much about you, pleased to make your acquaintance."
#120
-
Vicki shakes her head. "No, Nitro. Its not that I think you'll hurt her, but if she wakes up before she gets home and sees you, she'll try to kill you again adn I don't think I can deck my sister twice. She's too good for me to get away with that twice, and if she goes back to what she was I'm not sure I can take her." She looks down at her sister, damning her inability to cry without shedding blood and says in a low voice, "She was broken. It took four years to make her human again, and she's still not...entirely stable." She looks back up at the team, her expression defensive. "You can't judge her for this. You don't know what it was like. She's just scared."
Goodnight's face is still twisted in pain, grappling with nightmares even while unconscious, and her face is turning a violent purple where Victoria struck her. Victoria strokes Goodnight's hair, and dots of red well up in the corners of her eyes. Looking back up at Nitro, her youthful face is calm, even supportive. "This place does strange things to people's memories. Just...remember that its not your fault, sir."
She straightens up, cradling her sister in her arms, lifting Goodnight's fifty-odd kilos with no apparent effort. Its good to be a magical vampire athlete, sometimes. As she stands, another woman comes out of the crowd with her arms out. With long, gently curling hair the color of new shoots and eyes of a sunflower yellow, cheeks flushed with peony pink and lilac-painted nails, this must be Girl Flower. Her aura, for those that can see it, confirms this hypothesis, warm and vital and utterly inhuman. She's wearing a rose-red peasant blouse and synthdenim jeans the color of good soil, and she takes Goodnight from Victoria with a gentle smile for Vicki, who opens her mouth to speak but shuts it again as Flower shakes her head slowly. Vicki nods and Flower withdraws.
"That was flower, Fee's best friend. She'll take Fee home and patch her up." Vicki says. "I'll talk to her later tonight, while you guys are asleep. Hopefully by morning she'll be back to normal. In the meantime..." She pivots on one booted toe in a graceful pirouette. "I'll cover my sister's debts. You wanted to go to Nacht, right? The hotel?" At Natasha's nod Vicki says, "I can take you. But first, introductions." She steps closer to Isaint and holds out her hand. "Pleased to finally meet you, sir. Goodnight CC'ed me on her message to you, so I don't think I need to bother hiding." She glances down at his holster and back up at Isaint's face, her expression neutral, then softly asks, "Do they all know what I am?"
-
"Exactly. I don't know how much your sister has told you, but we need to lay low for a little while with this family over there. Also there might be a hit-squad on its way now that we have resurfaced at a semblance of civilized society. So be aware that you might get into danger by associating with us - not that I'd suggest you weren't capable of defending yourself. Just a headsup."
Isaint added hastily 'Yay, you are learning...'
-
"Poor lady" Said Solo softly as he watched the drama. He held his gun but was reluctant to shot. He watches Goodnight on the floor and say. "Vick, your sister seriously need help you cannot deal with this alone. I fear for her." Solo levitates Goodnight, not wanting to touch her to further traumatize her. As much as he can tell now, anything is a mask to her. There is no idea who is hidden inside, and that person inside is suppressed so deep.
He say to Vicky "Come Vick, lets find someplace soft to put her, she will be in a world of pain when she wakes up. Goodnight mentioned an hotel nearby where we are taking the family, we'll rent a room for her and you can watch her if you want." While they are walking he adds:
There is also something you should know, like Isaint told you, we are in the middle of a run... a very dangerous one. Bad stuff may happen - now i know that you are a lot more powerful than most mortals - possibly even more powerful then us. Still, if we get attacked I want you to lock the door and lay low. Protect your sister and yourself. No matter what it is, we can handle it. But your sister will not make it without you. Do not risk your life for her job.
During the road.
On a completely different topic, so you are not going to school? what are you doing every night?
-
She nods at Isaint and Solo. "Thanks for the warning, but I'm a banshee. Hit squads are an unfortunate fact of my life." She says drily, then glances around. "You might actually be safest in the market for a little while. Nobody starts anything in Nightside. I know you don't want to split up, but you're a big and noticeable group. Why don't you split into two groups, one dogging the other one and do a little shopping? Not much, just enough to look like you belong while you go through the market. Browse a little. I can make sure there's rooms waiting for you at Nacht, if Goodnight hasn't already." She looks at the family. "And then you gotta let me go get better clothes for them. They'll stand out like a sore thumb down here, and good-time Sally there is going to freeze her hoop right off." Natasha's clothing is reverting back to its previous clubbing state now that Goodnight is unconscious. "Let's get you to Nacht first, and then we can hash out specifics. I'm guessing you guys are on a short fuse and under a ton of stress."
She turns to face Solo fully and shakes her head. "Believe me, sir, I know that she needs help. I live with her." She looks in the direction of the departing inhabited spirit and her unconscious cargo. "She'll be safe with Flower, who can heal her and keep her under. If anything comes after them, Flower will grow raspberries out of its corpse. Trust me. She's the only person I know that literally everyone fears, even though she's, like, crazy-nice and sweet." Her tone is perfectly conversational, but its clear she knows from experience. Apparently Below is a violent place. She sighs. "I do go to school. I have tutorsofts and a matrix relay. I'm taking college courses online. Can't really go outside the way I am. I'm hoping to transfer to a real university next year."
-
Solo answers "Shopping can be nice and there is some stuff we need, but lets first get them to an hotel see our rooms establish some sort of defensive perimeter, and then decide on our options. Al has some balls rolling and we need to be on our toughs the risk is especially high right now, so Natasha will have to do AR shopping and we'll pick it up for her. "
"Do you prefer to take Goodnight to Girl Flower, than the hotel? I was thinking of waking her up soon using my medic kit. I just wanted to make sure that we are in a more secure place before we keep drawing attention to ourselves."
"What do you want to study then?"
-
As the whole new drama unfolded, Al just stood and watched.
He was standing near the family now. He was always standing near the family.
"Thanks, Solo, that's perfect. Skip the cafe, straight fer this hotel. Shoppin' by proxy or AR. An' as fer bein' conspicuous, reckon between clown showdown an' this joyful little reunion, anyone down here lookin' fer us already knows we's here."
He nodded at the Doc and put a protective hand on Rachel's back, guiding her forward.
"We stick together, an' we move now. No more stops."
Watching Goodbye get carried off by Super-Hippy, he made a mental note: that one was never getting left alone with any of the family members.
-
Solo type on his comlink and show Vicki >> Do you need to feed? with GN unconscious we might need to think about another solution if you do. He quickly delete it after she sees it.
-
"Hold up a second there, grandpa." Victoria says to Al with a wide smile and cheerful teenage sass. "Now, you're probably right about not stopping, but hear me out right quick, 'kay?" She ticks on her fingers. "First, you're a damned large, damned suspicious looking group. You're going to attract attention moving all together. Down here, if you look like you have something you're trying to protect, people will jack you just to find out what it is." She holds up another finger. "Second, if you go marching straight through, you'll attract even more attention. The confrontation didn't happen inside, but there's hundreds, maybe a thousand people in there. Thirty probably saw what happened out here. You're, ah, widening the observation people." She smiles cheerfully. "Third, do you even know what they use for money down here? Its not all wire transfers. Reception is too bad."
She folds her fingers down. "My way will only cost you a few minutes and a few meters. Let the family go ahead, maybe with Nitro and one other. I can pose as the young lady's friend from school, since most people don't know me down here." She nods at the food court. "You'd have to come back anyway if you want food an' all. This place don't do delivery without hazard pay. Take a look around, watch each other. Get some chow, maybe a couple quick outfits and some bathroom stuff. The shopkeeps here will turn your nuyen into corp scrip for you if you buy something, and then you can get your hotel rooms. And, if anyone is looking for you and they're clueless about Below, they'll draw down in here and security will turn them into krill-filler." She lays out her case in the pleasant tones of someone who is both experienced and a born teacher, rather than using the invective of her sister.
It probably helps that she is entirely of the school of "nice because I can be, not because I have to be."
While Al and the others think it over, she turns to Solo. "I hear Wellesly has an M.M in dance for adepts and mystic adepts, and they've got a great art department. I'd like to double major in dance and theatre and get minors in psych and music." She catches his eye and replies to his message <<Yes, I do. But I can wait a few days if I'm a little careful about how much I use what I have. And don't worry about Flower, she'll carry Goodnight home and keep her safe. Its out of our hands. I can bring you by there later if you like.>>
-
It's always clothes and shoes with the girls, isn't it...
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand: You say security is good enough here to prevent a hit-squad from acting, but a large armed group is in greater danger to get engaged then a small group with four clearly vulnerable looking people? I'll give you that we'll draw attention, but I'm not convinced that this equals people trying to attack us. I am not acquainted with the customs here, could you explain this seeming contradiction?"
Otherwise I still say hotel first. We can do the splitting up when the family are safe. One part of the group stays as bodyguards, the others go shopping. And no, even if the girl wants to go shopping, the family stays together. It was hard enough to assemble them."
As the group finally moved on, Isaint made sure that his loadout wouldn't cause him confusion again: APDS in the rifle, gel in the gun.
Quietly, he texted to Victoria: <<Yeah, your sister mentioned your condition.
She also mentioned that she feeds you exclusively. I am curious, how do you avoid damaging her magic and how does she replenish the lost energy? Your method could save a lot of lives.>>
-
"Yes, actually." Victoria says. "If people see an armed group protecting someone, then they will plan to attack once you leave the protection of Nightside. There's two hundred meters of tunnel hetween Nacht and the market. A family and a group of friends wont raise any eyebrows, but a shadowrunner team protecting an extraction certainly will."
She pauses. "Questions are good and feel free to ask them, but if you were using uninformed reasoning- that is, knowing nothing about Below and assuming you are on firm logical ground- on Fee, I can see why she's pissed at you." She shakes her head. "Ditto this putting your foot down thing. Explain. Reason. Ask questions. But the minute she was hired as a guide she became part of the team. If you try to give her orders, she'll frag you harder than a trog on novacoke. She doesnt take orders from anyone since the Vory. Me, Im not part of the operation. Im just a convenient proxy for a few hours so I cant do that, nor am I inclined to. But if you want her to be nice, you cant try to push her around or make her feel like just help, babe. That reminds her of being a joygirl."
<<Yes, I mind. Its nothing personal, but what she does to sustain me is her cross to bear and her story to tell. It involves magic and spirits and is impractical for widespread use. That's all I will say. Sorry.>>
-
Nitro thinks it over a little before nodding. "Icca' see 'er poin'... we nee' a gui'e 'own 'ere 'acouse we dunni tha 'ules 'ere. We prolly canna'o mu' abou' no' loo'in' li'e runners, bu' wa canna leas' do som'in' abou' mas'in' why we're 'ere. Frommasoun' o 'is pla'e we shoul' 'e a'le te ge' a lo'a gea' usually har' te ge'... I mesself a' 'onna ta'e a loo' a thi' clini'. Summon li'e mesself goin' to a pla'e li'e 'is ferssom o' tha boo's 'ware wnna d'aw too mu' aten'ion." There's a few clicks from above as the Bumblebee locks its weapon mount and Nitro gives the evish vampire a grin, even if the others can see he's still looking a little shaken and the gesture lacks some of the rigger's usual bravado and flare. "No' 'en, I 'sal nee' a repu'able pla' te s'ore an re'arge me drone, annaif thi' clini' is onna tha pla'es tha' dunna wor' wi' Nu'en a pla'e te 'ange fer wha' they will wan, assi'e fro' wha issal 'e lea'in' behin' occourse." he finishes the comment my giving one of his cyberears a flick.
-
She pauses. "Questions are good and feel free to ask them, but if you were using uninformed reasoning- that is, knowing nothing about Below and assuming you are on firm logical ground- on Fee, I can see why she's pissed at you." She shakes her head. "Ditto this putting your foot down thing. Explain. Reason. Ask questions. But the minute she was hired as a guide she became part of the team. If you try to give her orders, she'll frag you harder than a trog on novacoke. She doesnt take orders from anyone since the Vory. Me, Im not part of the operation. Im just a convenient proxy for a few hours so I cant do that, nor am I inclined to. But if you want her to be nice, you cant try to push her around or make her feel like just help, babe. That reminds her of being a joygirl."
" About the family there is no question, we are taking them to the hotel and establish a perimeter. Then we see what we can do about using our manpower to enable shopping or any other secondary goal. This is not for discussion - we are here on work and so far we erred on the side of safe rather than on the side of cation."
>>If that changes and Goodnight cannot do whatever it is she does. Do not be alone with this cross. I will help you figure it out.
That said, we could obviously use some extra firepower so if you know a good place for some reagents it will be very helpful to visit later. I will be able to bind some spirits. We already lost two mages since this gig started. I am trying to cover that spot as well although I am not completely comfortable in that position.
He then texts Vick>>
Vick it is more than do not piss her off. She is part of a world where being a mage is a death sentence. She is so volatile she almost killed herself - she is powerful and can handle stuff, but is dangerous to her own well being. We already lost two powerful mages, they were a lot less lucky although a lot more careful.
-
Al listened to the mini-vamp politely but he never stopped walking - he'd seen her move - he reckoned she could talk and keep up at the same time.
And he stayed close to the family. They were moving more in group now, the four of them, and he was always close.
She was a lot more reasonable to deal with (so far), than her sister, and just as easy to look at.
He was turning over in his mind the best way to phrase his answer when Solo and Isaint said what he was thinking. "Well, li'l darlin', yer points're fair an' well taken. But my two compadres is right - we keep movin', straight fer this hotel place. An' first thing we git in there, we gon' have a powwow, all stakeholders present. Yer sister'll be welcome ta join us, if'n she's well enough. Then, an' only then, is there gon' be any splittin' up, an' then hopefully as little as possible."
He was eager to catch up a bit with Requiem, but he didn't want to be brusque with her. Her sister was crazy enough, and looking cross-eyed at this little blood-sucker would be the surest way to piss her off for once and eternity. "Listen, ya made yer case good, an' once we's sittin' down somewhere's, an' assumin' ya even care, I'll be happy ta lay out my reasonin' for ya. Fer right now, though, I jist ain't got the luxury."
-
As Requiem steped away for a moment, Solo asked Al "I did not want to say anything inappropriate, but who is that Requiem guy?"
-
"Heh heh." Al was careful with his voice - he wasn't sure if Requiem's hearing was enhanced. "The lady I'm hopin' ta use ta broker our deal. She's a top flight fixer an' I trust 'er all the way. Well, reckon she and Requiem here done useta make the two-backed beast. Though how that works with the, well,the extra arm, I am not inclined ta speculate."
-
Oh ... you work very fast... thats good because I sort of miss working alone without all this emotional drama. This run is very odd... Lets hope we make it out in one piece.
He is a bit emberessed visualizing what the cyberarm can be used for. He finally say "it add options"
-
Isaint had just upgraded his map when Al had his little say. "Thanks, that hotel looks good. But I too agree with Al: No more splitting up."
To Solo he said: "As enticing as it sounds, but there will be no alcohol for me before this whole thing is done and under wraps. But feel free to have one for me too."
With a few mental commands he informed his supplier where he should send the ordered equipment by courier drone. When he checked his balance he cursed audibly: "Verdammte Halsabschneider!"
Too a quizzical looking Solo he just said: "My other life catched up with me and the ADL has already taken its cut from my earnings. I'm lucky I kept my balance up, otherwise we could have added tax investigators to our growing number of visitors."
#120
I know how you feel said Solo. I am terrible with money no matter what I make I usually spend it all very quickly... you are paying taxes?! How can that be?
-
"Yes, actually." Victoria says. "If people see an armed group protecting someone, then they will plan to attack once you leave the protection of Nightside. There's two hundred meters of tunnel hetween Nacht and the market. A family and a group of friends wont raise any eyebrows, but a shadowrunner team protecting an extraction certainly will."
She pauses. "Questions are good and feel free to ask them, but if you were using uninformed reasoning- that is, knowing nothing about Below and assuming you are on firm logical ground- on Fee, I can see why she's pissed at you." She shakes her head. "Ditto this putting your foot down thing. Explain. Reason. Ask questions. But the minute she was hired as a guide she became part of the team. If you try to give her orders, she'll frag you harder than a trog on novacoke. She doesnt take orders from anyone since the Vory. Me, Im not part of the operation. Im just a convenient proxy for a few hours so I cant do that, nor am I inclined to. But if you want her to be nice, you cant try to push her around or make her feel like just help, babe. That reminds her of being a joygirl."
<<Yes, I mind. Its nothing personal, but what she does to sustain me is her cross to bear and her story to tell. It involves magic and spirits and is impractical for widespread use. That's all I will say. Sorry.>>
"I am in no way putting my foot down. Despite any other problems this group has had so far we actually never had a situation where we couldn't rely on our self organisation. A group as diverse as this doesn't work with orders.
Mutual respect made everything work quite well - even between me and the Frenchman. And believe me, when we last met we did have a serious clash, being put into opposition through our respective employers.
So let me be clear: I fully respect you and your sister as well as your professional abilities.
But we others aren't exactly new born lambs either. So far every decision outside of combat was made in an utterly democratic fashion. So please don't take this as 'pushing you around'. We simply have a difference in opinion. I'll take full responsibility should our decision to stay together as a large group draw the unwanted attention you have dutifully warned us from."
<<Fair enough.>>
As the group moved towards the hotel and Solo engaged Isaint he just hung his head for a moment:
"Truth be told, my shadow work isn't usually illegal - or rather it's in areas where the powers that be aren't very interested in persecution. This extraction was an exception. More often, I am hired to prevent abduction or help to defend communities against other threats. As such I still have a legal SIN and all my income is subject to taxation. Luckily, the tax authorities don't care if the money came from illegal business. They just want their cut. It also helps that most of my work is done outside the ADL and especially Bavaria. But don't ask me how they know what I earn. I do use the usual shadow channels. Probably has something to do with technomancers and that Foundation thingy they talked about in JackPoint recently."
As they walked, Isaint instructed his Agent: <<Susi: Activate Agent Cluster. Search for feedback from weapons, smartguns, cybereyes etc. that are directed in our groups direction. Protocol Foxtrot.>>
-
Al was walking close to the family, and probing Requiem for info.
"Reckon I remember ya now, one o' Silk's shindigs - November, December last year. Sorry 'bout the lapse. Ol' Al might have been slightly impaired. An' he might have been wearin' his skivvies on his head and doin' the Dance o' the Flamin' Asshole on some tabletop."
"Yeah, you raised the bar for civilization that night."
"Sort of a callin' o' mine. But what're ya doin' the hell over here?"
"Silk asked me to join up. Maybe she was trying to get rid of me. But what she said was she wanted me to keep an eye on them. Apparently they're pretty high-speed. I mean global big league, in their own local way. Tied up enough in who-knows-what of Silk's machinations they bear monitoring."
"Well, yer monitorin' tell ya why these damn mimes is doggin' us? Hard to think it's coincidence."
"It was though. It was chance that we met you there. Honestly, man. But the thing is, with these guys, I'm not sure there is such a thing as chance. The weave - i thought it was crazy, but Hecate knows things. I won't say she knows the future, but, how can I put it? It's like she is so much into the flow of the present, that the future becomes academic. I don't know - not enough of me left to tap into it myself. Maybe she did know you'd be there. Or maybe after she met you she knew that she'd known you'd be there. But I'm pretty sure her intention really was to help you. For whatever reason. Like she said, a lot of you have roles to play."
Al spit. "Sheee-it. Fergive me fer askin', an' makin' ya even say all that. You know anything about cars...?"
-
*** Sewer Entrance, several moments late ***
Aaron comes jogging into the sewer, only to see the party already walking away further into the Below. He rolls his eyes, happy to see the corpse that kidnapped the family in his car was apparently on the up & up, but quite annoyed that everyone had left nothing but burnt rubber, exhaust, and the ork archer behind. He jogs up behind them, turning a very few heads, most notably that of Tobbis, the highly-unsettling mutant-child that at very least knew what it was like to be ignored and/or forgotten. Once he caught up, he waved his hands around towards the other runners, the family, and himself, his gestures finding no verbal accompaniment as he simply continued trying to replenish his oxygen-starved blood. His face showed incredulity and questions, but in the end he breathed a huge sigh and simply continued on behind the rest.
*** Catacombs, from the rear ***
Far from the grit and glamour of street fights and car chases, this place was dark and oppressive and just downright life-sucking. The near-violent encounters between their party members was beginning to feel like just another part of the background noise, like the whole place was just a channel of negativity that found a voice in the family and the other runners. Aaron kept his mouth well enough shut, but his hand found a whole lot of comfort on the grip of his pistol as he walked. He wasn't sure exactly who he wanted to shoot, but he wasn't feeling too picky just then. Anyone said anything to piss him off and he'd be doing them a favor with a bullet--most of them would survive a bullet, which is more than could be said if he were to reach out and start throwing punches.
*** Encounter with the Troupe, some distance back ***
While they all walked, Aaron began to fall behind. He told himself it was for tactical reasons, but the truth was, he was just losing motivation. Mel and Hal were walking beside him, at least for a while, but they seemed to drag even further behind before long. He hadn't seen either of them in several minutes. But as the group of performers approached, everything started to feel alright again. He felt calm and just... okay. Maybe this wasn't a scene from a trid, but he'd be back in the action soon enough. And more importantly, this run wasn't about the glory, it was about the money. Yeah, something about these performers just put everything back into perspective. Some people started waving guns or making threats, but none of it really seemed that important. He didn't understand why everyone was getting so wound up over nothing. Then, when the singing began, for the first time he noticed the tour guide. Whoa. Who is that? Suddenly the feelings of peace were at war with an intense anxiety that wrapped around Aaron's throat, causing him to choke up. She'll never talk to me. She probably already married that French guy while I was pounding pavement. Damn him. I bet I could humiliate him in arm wrestling. The rest of what happened was mostly a blur as Aaron thought of ways he might casually introduce himself to this pale enigma. He wasn't even completely sure what kind of metahuman she was, but found it difficult to hold that against her.
*** Second Encounter with the Troupe ***
Any one of the performers was, while impressively agile, hardly an imposing sight. They didn't appear armored or even overly armed, nor did they seem to have any kind of military disciple. But when the large crowd of them all began dancing around the now-relatively-small group of defenders and the otherwise helpless family, Aaron's body went stiff. He could crush a sissy elf with a sissy pocket pistol in a matter of seconds. But that many of them added up to a lot of bullets, and not all the magic or 'ware in the world could make him bullet-proof. Not quite anyway. He instinctively crossed his arms and puffed himself up, as per his bodyguard training, but he never was very good at it. Sometimes it even came off as a bit comical. As the whole situation became somewhat technical--talk about "data" and such--Aaron slowly relaxed. Everything happened around him and he simply watched for the larger part. It wasn't totally clear what was happening, but people began to disperse instead of discharge firearms, so he decided it must all be ending well.
*** Encounter with Banshee ***
Aaron saw something moving in on the incredibly attractive tour guide, and his feet went into motion instantly. However, he'd made it no more than a meter by the time it was too late. He drew his gun and held it pointed up as he slowed, working around the party members between him and her. But then it soon became clear that this was some kind of social encounter, and as such really didn't need a large ork with a gun involved in it. He holstered his Omni, patting it and smiling at his own preparedness. He noticed the new arrival was also pretty easy on the eyes, and his thoughts began wandering. Now here's my chance. But how old is she? Ah, she has to be old enough. Hell, you only live once, and if you're an ork, not for very long. And Frenchie can have one or the other, but he can't have both. Aaron thought smugly. Then his smile changed to a sour, quizzical look. ...can he? For all of that, he failed to notice when things suddenly became less friendly. In a flash, Nitro was all shaken up and the tour guide was out cold. Some crazy woman from the crowd took her away - Damn. Back down to one. - and then everyone was back to bickering, this time about how they should arrange themselves as shoppers when going through the market. Hmm, a market. Maybe they sell books on advanced magic and how it applies to your fists. Surely there's some awakened boxer out there who can teach me how to take it to the next level.
-
"Yes, actually." Victoria says. "If people see an armed group protecting someone, then they will plan to attack once you leave the protection of Nightside. There's two hundred meters of tunnel hetween Nacht and the market. A family and a group of friends wont raise any eyebrows, but a shadowrunner team protecting an extraction certainly will."
She pauses. "Questions are good and feel free to ask them, but if you were using uninformed reasoning- that is, knowing nothing about Below and assuming you are on firm logical ground- on Fee, I can see why she's pissed at you." She shakes her head. "Ditto this putting your foot down thing. Explain. Reason. Ask questions. But the minute she was hired as a guide she became part of the team. If you try to give her orders, she'll frag you harder than a trog on novacoke. She doesnt take orders from anyone since the Vory. Me, Im not part of the operation. Im just a convenient proxy for a few hours so I cant do that, nor am I inclined to. But if you want her to be nice, you cant try to push her around or make her feel like just help, babe. That reminds her of being a joygirl."
<<Yes, I mind. Its nothing personal, but what she does to sustain me is her cross to bear and her story to tell. It involves magic and spirits and is impractical for widespread use. That's all I will say. Sorry.>>
"I am in no way putting my foot down. Despite any other problems this group has had so far we actually never had a situation where we couldn't rely on our self organisation. A group as diverse as this doesn't work with orders.
Mutual respect made everything work quite well - even between me and the Frenchman. And believe me, when we last met we did have a serious clash, being put into opposition through our respective employers.
So let me be clear: I fully respect you and your sister as well as your professional abilities.
But we others aren't exactly new born lambs either. So far every decision outside of combat was made in an utterly democratic fashion. So please don't take this as 'pushing you around'. We simply have a difference in opinion. I'll take full responsibility should our decision to stay together as a large group draw the unwanted attention you have dutifully warned us from."
<<Fair enough.>>
As the group moved towards the hotel and Solo engaged Isaint he just hung his head for a moment:
"Truth be told, my shadow work isn't usually illegal - or rather it's in areas where the powers that be aren't very interested in persecution. This extraction was an exception. More often, I am hired to prevent abduction or help to defend communities against other threats. As such I still have a legal SIN and all my income is subject to taxation. Luckily, the tax authorities don't care if the money came from illegal business. They just want their cut. It also helps that most of my work is done outside the ADL and especially Bavaria. But don't ask me how they know what I earn. I do use the usual shadow channels. Probably has something to do with technomancers and that Foundation thingy they talked about in JackPoint recently."
As they walked, Isaint instructed his Agent: <<Susi: Activate Agent Cluster. Search for feedback from weapons, smartguns, cybereyes etc. that are directed in our groups direction. Protocol Foxtrot.>>
"This seems healthy. " Said Solo "I usually work alone, typically for matters where you want to limit the number of people involved. Data theft, blackmail and accidents. I do it all and most of the time nobody finds out. I am a bit more limited now as I try to learn how to do things in different ways... I decided to avoid killing. This got me in a lot of problems this is how I ended up here. Looking for new contacts. Killing is bad for my sainity. I am recovering from some dark times. "
...
"About how they find out, where there is money involved the possibilities are endless, I did some jobs for tax authorities. They pay nice finder fee... but it feels dirty."
-
Victoria rolls her eyes, and the accompanying sigh and expression are the magnificently put-upon ones that only a teenager can muster. They say that every adult in the world is stupid and clueless and no one can understand her pain at having to deal with them. Shaking her head slowly, she says, "Aaaaaaalllllright," drawing the word out. As Nitro begins to split off, she says, "Clinic's down on one. Go south about fifty meters, take the stairs all the way to the bottom, turn right, then left, then right. Send a couple drones with me and I'll make sure they get charged and secured."
She sets off, the rest of the team falling in around the family as she leads them towards Nacht. Its not a long walk, not really, but in the crowded corridors of Nightside it takes a while. They pass storefronts and stalls hawking commlinks, electronics, programs both legitimate and pirated, and more than a few home-coded. There are clothiers, housewares shops, liquor stores and bars, and everything else one would expect to find in a crowded shopping center. No evidence exists of weapons, magic, or the more exotic or nefarious items, those shops being on other levels. The air is redolent with the smells of food and sweat and metahumanity, and the din of voices raised in arguments, laughter, haggling and talking is almost deafening.
Victoria walks through the crowd like she is born to it. Some people recognize her, or see her aura for what it is. They move, often hurriedly. For everyone else she uses a smile or a kind word or a well-placed elbow to carve a path through the crowded mass, and the two orks with the team are large enough to hold it open for everyone else.
The near-kilometer walk takes them out of the market and back into the tunnels, though these are better-lit and in better repair than the Way. Foot traffic is heavy, and there are other businesses beyond the market proper. Once they leave nightside, however, the raucous demeanour of the metahumanity inside gives way to smaller groups, quieter, often with hunted or hunting looks. The message is clear. Nightside is safe, but beyond it, might entirely makes right, and more than a few of those they pass through challenging looks at Isaint, Aaron, Solo and The Frenchman, and mocking or lascivious leers at everyone else.
Victoria ignores them, and eventually they come to a building that appears to be built into both levels of the old tube tunnels, as well as the access shafts above and below it. From the outside it is a slab of poured black stone with a single frosted door bearing a stylized N. Victoria leads them inside, and the team may be shocked to find that it is actually quite pleasant. Everything is in black and white, the floors tiled in a chessboard pattern, and the imposing front desk is topped by black marble and flanked by columns sheathed in the same polished sable stone. A large, heavily built human with greying hair and a magnificent moustache stands behind it, and four room keycards are on the counter before him. He nods at Victoria and growls, "Miss Flower called ahead. You have the whole of the top floor, all four rooms and the private lounge with Nacht's compliments."
Victoria blinks. That must have cost a fortune. She turns to the team and says, "Three flights up. Two suites, two rooms, and a private lounge. Apparently Goodnight and Flower have already covered it, so sort out who is bunking with who." She nods to one side, where there's several large black armchairs and a polished ash- or reasonable fake- table and says, "I'll wait down here for you."
-
“Come with, if’n ya want. Next bit’s decision time, an’ yer sister’s got a say. Since she ain’t here, you could be ‘er voice. Your call. Anyhoo, thanks fer pinch-hittin’.”
Then he turned to Requiem. “Nice seein’ ya again, but this next bit’s fer us what’s onna job. You understand. Less o’ course you’re representin’ Silk...”
And with that he headed up the stairs. On the way up, he spoke to Richard Pelletiere. “Now I know you an’ yours is good an’ knackered, but like I promised, first thing we sit down an’ consider a possible exit ol’ Al’s laid out. Then you an’ yer kin can take one o’ the suites an’ put yerselves back together a bit.”
Once they hit the lounge, he took a look around, noting who was still with them. When Nitro had headed for the clinic, Al had suggested he might want to be here, and the man had made his choice.
Now he spoke to the team: “Any o’ you pros wanna do whatever you do ta make a place secure from pryin’ eyes an’ ears, ya best git to it, cuz ol’ Al’s gon’ lay things out.” He got the family seated together on a sofa, and he took an armchair across a coffee table from them, Spike at his feet.
Dammit, he was out of smokes again.
-
Isaint looked around approvingly. That was better than he had hoped: Solid walls, clear line of sight, few to no windows and a whole floor for the group. The lounge area especially would come in handy.
He walked over to the man at the counter: "Servus, interessanten Stil habt ihr hier, gefällt mir. Ich erwarte demnächst eine Lieferung, Empfänger Isaint. Geben Sie mir bitte Bescheid sobald sie eintrifft. Danke."
[spoiler]"Hallo, you have an interesting style here, I like it. I'm expecting a delivery shortly, receiver Isaint. Please contact me as soon as it arrives. Thanks. [/spoiler]
As Al took the lead, Isaint followed and took a look in every room, recording a layout with his ultrasound sensor. It was always good to have the lay of the land.
On Al's suggestion, he activated the white noise generator and the jammer in his mask - without the wireless function to except their own electronics. He also used the time to reboot his complete gear to get rid of any residual marks. For good measure he turned on his commlink's speakers and let it play a bit of music (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oExRglZ_06Q) that would hopefully confuse any recording equipment.
"Now I'm really curious what plan you have hatched there." He had finally taken of the mask as well as the helmet. Beneath those an almost surreal amount of hair became visible that obscured his head and face completely. "And don't make us wait to add tension. I really need a shave..."
#124
-
Nitro tilts his head slightly at the instructions and nods, Vicki's comlink pings, notifying her of a pair of marks on the combat drone. "alrigh, soun' goo'. Lissen' I'll hea' 'own 'ere, I cinna hi'e tha fac' Iemma ru'er, so I'll go do sommin a 'unnerwoul' do inna pla'e li'e 'is. I'll senna Bum'leBee wi' ya, ta'e 'are of i' eh? Fra'in' sensor a'ays cos' a for'une." in one thing that might be slightly odd he doesn't ask way is south, even down here he seems to have an unerring sense of direction as he turns to leave.
-
Watching people settle in, some setting up security precautions, Al really wished Nitro was here.
When the man had left, Al had spoken briefly to him. "We git ta this underdark B&B, amigo, we gon' sit down an' it's gon' be decision time on a way outta this mess. Hate for ya not ta have a say," he'd said.
Now, noting the combat drone hovering on the perimeter, he waved and grinned and hoped the freaky-haired hippy was with them virtually, even if not in the flesh.
-
Nitro pauses at Al's comment, looking back, his cybereyes incapable of showing any emotion and his face and voice doing little to compensate. "Loo' Iwas hire' ta 'o a jo', te ge' you lo' from Poin' A te Poin' B... 'his 'ole Un'erworl' drec' ain my worl' an muchas sommoya seemma care allo' abou' those fou' we haulin' aroun'. Ennatha 'ay, they'e no'in' more tha' anna payche' an' su'essful jo' fer us. You sough'ou' where we goin an ge'us topsi'e annill ta'e ca'e o' the res' eh?"
-
Isaint had claimed one of the two large wing chairs, removing the rest of the armor accessorizes and the coat. The rifle leaned on the side.
While they waited for the rest to settle down he took stock:
Jackhammer, the Frenchman, Al and he himself could be counted as muscle. Solo and Goodnight resp. Victoria were now all they had left for astral security. The little technomancer Tobis and Nitro the rigger were their prime matrix defense - aided by Solo.
All in all twelve people with the family. Tobis and solo probably needed some peace and quiet to call their spirits or sprites, so they probably would need separate rooms - incidentally making it unlikely that an attack would rob them of both their matrix muscle simultaneously. The women should probably share one suite, while father and son shared the other. He would opt to take the couch in the men's suite. Partly because he didn't want to leave the Doc out of his sight and partly because he Al - despite being a great chummer - was a smoker and he strongly suspected him to have not the highest standards of hygiene.
These thoughts - minus the last part - he sent to the rest of the team for discussion.
-
“Al, just give me about an hour to work on astral security. My magic is very odd but do not worry I’ll take one of the rooms to do it with so I won’t creep everyone.”
But what magic did Solo know that would take them about an hour, Nonsense locked most of his magical knowledge away - that way he could not change his mind about the ritual that made Solo insane. Solo could remember bits and pieces of that ritual, there was a castle and sexy outfits. Many people dancing, or was it some old trid? Why would a ritual look like that?
He felt that Vicki would make a fine addition to the ritual, something in her dark nature may blend very well.
“Vick, want to do ritual magic? I am not sure how I am going to do it but I have a feeling it is going to feel liberating.” Solo had no idea what kind of ritual he is going to do, or how come he even knows ritual magic.
To himself:
“Now think I know that Nonsense knew ritual magic, where did he hide this knowledge?” Solo looks puzzled. He tries many dance moves, moonwalk, elvis presley moves - and all sort of moves. Nothing rings a bell. Frustrated he speaks to himself again: "gosh Nonsense, I want to do watchers, cut me some slack! we are the same person.” He say.
After impossible two minutes, he just knows what to do as if some hidden entity sort of guided him into the right memories.
“This is how it goes I think “... he looks puzzled “You take a jump to the left.” His body seems to remember the moves, he is also moving his hands. ‘Then a step to the right... four actually. Yes like this exactly.” He ponders for a little bit. “Yes place the hands on the hips, like that.”... and then... no... “COMMON Nonsense, you are messing with my mind now!.. this can’t be it. I can’t do that movement with my pelvic.”. The hidden entity insists and after looking around nervously, Solo does it. Saying “This is about right I think”. But nothing happens... even after repeating the moves multiple times.
Solo has thousands of songs on his deck all of them are extremely old and he clearly do not listen to them. He must had a different taste in music before. How can he possibly know the right music for this ritual... he browse the files and select one of them labeled “RHS-TW-WR” - somehow he just knew that the music will be appropriate to the moves.
As he plays the music his body comes to life, He starts reciting odd words and dance. He becomes completely unaware of his surroundings and some half transparent versions of himself joint he dance. They ware all kind of clothes and speak their parts with Solo's voice.
[spoiler]
The 'Moves'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8hTJKfjyqY
The dance!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmQgICDxGEQ
[/spoiler]
Flashback:
A memory shred locked away surfaces. Solo is covered in blood, he is crying. “I just killed these people...” He say out loud “My revenge is over, why do I keep senselessly killing people. This dark part in me grows out of control and nothing helps, there is no cure. Drug therapy do not work, psychological therapy do not work, even hypnosis failed me. "
He washes his hands and say:
"If no one else is going to stop me, then I will stop myself - I invented a ritual that can break my mind into multiple fragments forever. It will lock the dark one into a separate fragment and I can bury him very deep so he never gets out again.”
He washes his ends from the blood and thinks “It will not be enough, I need to hide that ritual even from myself... I will be insane after the ritual and I will want my mind to be whole again. But it should never be. I will lock away my magical talents so that even I cannot undo what I did. I will hide them in absurd places - that the odds of just stumbling them are slim to none. ”
Back to the room, Solo talks in many different voices as if possessed and more and more version of himself seems to join them as they dance. Solo speaks in many voices and these seem to come from multiple dancing specters.
(Riff Raff) It's astounding
Time is fleeting
Madness takes it's toll...
(Magenta) Ahh...
(Riff Raff) But listen closely...
(Magenta) Not for very much longer...
(Riff Raff) I've got to keep control.
I remember doing the Time Warp.
Drinking those moments when
The blackness would hit me.
(Riff Raff & Magenta) And the void would be calling.
(Guests) Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
(Narrator) It's just a jump to the left.
(Guests) And then a step to the right.
(Narrator) With your hand on your hips.
(Guests) You bring your knees in tight.
But it's the pelvic thrust.
They really drive you insane.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
(Magenta) It's so dreamy
Oh, fantasy free me
So you can't see me
No not at all.
In another dimension
With voyeuristic intention.
Well secluded I see all...
(Riff Raff) With a bit of a mind flip...
(Magenta) You're into a time slip...
(Riff Raff) And nothing can ever be the same.
(Magenta) You're spaced out on sensation.
(Riff Raff) Like you're under sedation.
(Guests) Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
(Columbia) Well, I was walking down the street
Just having a think
When a snake of a guy
Gave me an evil wink.
Well it shook me up
It took me by surprise
He had a pick-up truck
And the devil's eyes
He stared at me
And I felt a change
Time meant nothing
Never would again.
(Guests) Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
(Narrator) It's just a jump to the left.
(Guests) And then a step to the right.
(Narrator) With your hands on your hips.
(Guests) You bring you knees in tight.
But it's the pelvic thrust...
That really drives you insane
Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again
(Columbia) Ah! Oh! Oh! Yeoooww...
Ahhhh.
(Guests) Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
(Narrator) It's just a jump to the left.
(Guests) And then a step to the right.
(Narrator) With your hands on your hips.
(Guests) You bring your knees in tight.
But it's the pelvic thrust
They really drive you insane.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
Everyone suddenly collapse to the ground when the ritual is over. After several seconds the effect go away and in the astral there are 5, watcher spirits.
-
Al watched as people settled in around the room. It had been a major effort by all of them, and some hadn't made it, but at least now they could finally make some decisions that would allow them to move toward a resolution, do something more proactive than just running away from place to place.
The lounge at the hub of the four rooms was pretty nice. He'd just helped himself to some cool water from a decanter that had been left for them, when Solo said, “Al, just give me about an hour to work on astral security."
And Al had sprayed his mouthful of water all over the coffee table.
"Noah an' his ark an' his animals two by damned two, amigo, we ain't gon' wait an..." but his voice trailed off in defeat as the insane man disappeared into the nearest room.
Well, he had asked them to make the room secure. Who knew it took an hour to do it?
At least he'd already taken the liberty of getting the process started with Silk. So actually, this wasn't costing them any time. But he could see the pain in the faces of the Doc and his wife at the realization that sleep might be delayed. He gave them his winningest wolfishest smile, shrugged, and said, "Herdin' cats, right?" At this point, these people were so stretched they were like little kids. If he let them sleep, it'd be more hours before he could get them and everyone else in a room again. And then they really would be losing time to their myriad pursuers. He was sorely tempted to just screw Solo and lay things out. But he knew the man would want his say, heaven help them all, and the fact was he'd risked his life for these people right alongside the rest of them.
He quickly read Isaint's ideas about room arrangements, and texted back his two cents in a text to Isaint alone: <<They's a family. Why they gotta be separated like school kids? I'd feel better with them all in one room. And the ladies might not feel better alone in a room with the other ladies in our group. I think you can appreciate the reasons for that. What say we put it to them how they want to bunk?>>
Then, seeing eyelids grow heavy and hearing Natasha whine that she just wanted to go to bed, Al set about regaling them with the tale of how he'd jacked some opium kingpins in Cambodia. He'd been handling demolitions for a tin mining outfit there, and once his Khmer got good enough he'd started talking to some of his coworkers about some of the local druglords...
There were occasional distractions from the other room. Whenever the shouts, singing, and crashes got especially loud, he would find a way to add tension to the story. It wouldn't do to have them realize what he was fast confirming in his own mind - that Solo's genius was matched only by his insanity.
It was hard work without the beer or cigarettes which were the customary accoutrements of his storytelling, but it kept them awake. By the time he'd explained that he'd gotten away with it clean, only to be arrested for accidentally shoplifting a bottle of beer in Phnom Penh, Solo had emerged from his chamber of devil worship, apparently having done what he'd set out to do.
"Now then," Al continued, "Are we ready to talk?"
-
Isaint flashed Al a quick text back: <<Yeah, I'd like nothing better, but there are two reasons why I suggest the split:
One: The Doc is still the main target. I want one of us fighters at all hours with him - and if there is a breach its better not to have to worry about the two ladies in the same room.
Two: Goodnight has taken a shine to the daughter. When she comes back she'll probably insist on partnering up with her. For similar reasons as above I don't think it wise to have her and one of us with the principal.
The suites have connecting doors, so it's not like they have to live separately - just the resting is done non-coed.>>
Fascinated he listened to the story, trying not to interrupt although his curiosity sometimes overcame this restraint as he asked for more details.
He had to suppress a yawn when Solo finally reappeared. Sitting down had sent his body entirely the wrong signals.
"I'd love nothing more. Especially since we have to divvy up the guard duty afterwards."
-
"Sorry about that, I was a little fuzzy in the exact technique to perform this magic." He let their five guardians to manifest to introduce them. S1, S2, S3, S4 and S5, they all looked like a transparent version of Solo and were different only by their choice of clothes. "You can talk to them, but they only exist in the astral space." he said and then ordered the watchers to patrol the place.
He then took a sit and spoke.
"Thanks for waiting for me... never-mind the details but we now have eyes in both this world and the astral world. They should be enough until Goodnight feels better and we get access to her spirits. I had to improvise something appropriate for the circumstances.". Al seemed to be able to keep his cool, he knew where the money comes from and was not distracted by rivalries, augmentations or toys. Solo liked it, he tried to cover so many bases all the time that he really could not stay focused on anything.
"Please start" he said.
-
Al smiled. "Sheee-it, baby, now there's six o' ya!" He had to admit, he'd rest a lot better with those things on the lookout.
He glanced at his commlink, the message from Isaint, and couldn't fault the reasoning. He gave the ork a nod of agreement.
Then he started, his sandpaper voice grating through the details.
“Alrighty Doc, Mrs. Pelletiere, Natasha, William, most o’ these folks I’m with unnerstands most o’ this, but I wanna lay it out for ya piece by piece.
“Last night was all wrong. We was told y’all had called us, an’ that don’t seem to have been true. Upside, well, ya ended up with a group o’ folks that seem ta have decided, fer whatever they individual reasons, that they’d like a happy endin’ for ya, an’ are willin’ ta fight fer it. Some ain’t with us no more.
“Seems what yer workin’ on, what with events in Boston unfoldin’, well, yer work’s attractin’ a whole lot of attention. From both sides o’ the issue. You represent one piece of global salvation ta some. To others, an unimaginable sum o’ cash. But yer also seen as a deadly threat to others. So we got some as wanna take ya by force. Some won’t care about whether the family comes with. An’ we got some as jist wants ya dead. An’ they’s all of ‘em got scary pow’rful resources. As you’ve seen. An’ the kicker is, fer the most part, we don’t know which is which.
“So we gotta figure out someone strong enough ta keep ya safe, smart enough ta know ya work better happy, as in, with yer kin by yer side, an’ then, cherry on top, willin’ ta pay those as is here pertectin’ ya.
“Now I am of the opinion that we’ve identified one such party. They represent NeoNet. Not the whole thing, but a powerful enough faction ta meet our needs. You may know her - apparently she’s some sort o’ nobility-type was at the party with ya last night, Missus. Goes by Lady This, or Dame That. Ol’ Al knows her by another name. She’s half dragon or some other abomination afore nature, but fer all that a straight shooter.
“Here’s why I think so. First, I done worked for her before, an’ met her a couple times. She was puttin’ herself and precious resources onna line ta secure info on the very same problems you’s workin’ on, Doc, an’ this was nigh on a year back, afore ever’one knew about it. Back when it was no more’n a creepy whisper inna shadows. An’ end o’ the day, she played us fair, backed us an’ paid us. On top o’ that, a friend o’ mine, name o’ Silk, she’s real smart an’ real connected, an’ I completely trust ‘er, an’ she’s worked with this person quite a bit. Don’t call her no saint, but agrees she’s reliable. An’ she’s got people close to ‘er that make stronger recommendations than that. Now in this business, them’s about as good o’ bona fides as yer gon’ git.
“Now Silk’s already offered ta help us broker a deal. I took the liberty - without makin’ any promises - ta ask ‘er to reach out, see what sort o’ deal Dragon-Lady’s willin’ ta offer you... an’ us. She’s doin’ that now.
“I started her on it cuz time ain’t on our side. People after you, nowhere on or under or above this earth is safe. We’s on borrowed time already.
“So what I need to know from you, Doc, an’ from all o’ y’all here, is if she comes back with a reasonable offer, if we wanna take ‘er up on it.”
-
"Dealings with dragons... Not something I or my patron endorse in general. Still, regarding the circumstances, it's better than nothing.
But I have to ask: Wasn't Boston NeoNET's back yard? Rumors say they are probably the ones to blame for this whole quarantine situation."
Isaint made a placating gesture: "Not that this is a knockout criterion. Probably rather helps us with the negotiations if they are under pressure."
-
Solo said: "I am totally for Dragon lady, we already know she is interested. However, I agree with Isaint, she is a business woman - do not expect a good deal if we do not have alternatives."
He reached over to make himself a coffee - these dancing and singing were a little bit odd even for himself. He should try and get M to tell him for once and for all what is the deal with dark one and who he really was.
-
Victoria shakes her head at the invitation. "I'm sorry, hon. What I know about ritual magic you could fit in my ear with enough room left over for a brigade of dancing angels." She sinks down into a comfortable armchair instead, doffing her cloak on the way and folding it neatly, then setting it on the floor beside her. She surveys the room as the not-lawyer lays out his theory and the usual shadowrunner kibbitzing commences, trying very hard to ignore the growing hunger and thirst behind her navel and in the back of her throat.
Instead, in an effort to keep her mind occupied, Victoria looks at Natasha, the one that her sister had apparently taken a shine to while keeping half an ear open to listen to "the plan." Cute, but not gorgeous. Comes from money, probably had at least some measure of matrix and tutorsoft education. Likely goes to a private or chartered school. Not awakened, unless she's got a better mask than any teenager has a right to. Athletic enough to keep her figure, but not enough to be cut. Dressed in shadowrunner basic, but the transformation is new enough that she doesn't feel at home in the clothes. Fianna's work, then. Nervous enough that she probably doesn't slum very often. Worried looking, mostly about herself, but she keeps glancing at her kid brother. Not, Victoria notes, her parents. Teenager in the throes of rebellion then, and not informed enough to know how much her father's research might mean.
So basically, a vain rich kid who thinks she knows everything. Why is Fianna interested in her? They're from different worlds, and even if Fianna is robbing the cradle, she has to know she's not going to get anywhere with the attack dogs herding them or with the parents clutching to what's left of their lives.
Is it because she's alive? Warm? Uninfected? Is she some proxy for Fee, making up for me?
She is shaken from her introspection as Isaint and Solo say their pieces. She weighs the pros and cons of colunteering information for a minute, then asks, "What about Draco? Not DIMR, but DF? They've got that whole 'common good' aesthetic thing going. Having a leg up on the world's most pressing problem would help their PR a lot." Her lips quirk into a grimace. "Renraku, too. They never really recovered after Seattle, did they? Maybe they'd buy up the Doctor in an effort to try to recoup their image."
-
Al smiled, and congratulated himself for working with such smart people - even if half of them were crazy or devil worshippers or abominations or all three.
And that was what he knew about them after twelve hours.
"Point taken on NeoNet, Isaint. Fact o' the matter is, run I did fer dragon lady last year, it was actually against NeoNet. A Sybill-related datasteal. She made no secret o' the fact they was factions within the corp that wanted the info suppressed. So yeah, NeoNet could be at fault, but she could still be onna side o' the angels."
He looked at Solo. "An' o' course yer right we'll negotiate a better deal fer the family an' fer us if'n we find a way to shop it 'round a bit. Now, prob'ly none of us is fixed ta teach my girl Silk anything 'bout dealmakin' - she'll play it smart an' do all she can fer us. But no doubt if'n we can give 'er more ta bring ta the table, we'll be better off."
He scratched at his stubble with a yellow fingernail. "Trouble we got is, any deal in this biz they's a chance they playin' us, trade lead instead o' cred at the meet. But this particular deal - ol' Al don't spend much time on JackPoint, but I been followin' this thing since last year. These headcases, they's ever'where. So the gen'ral distrustworthiness o' Johnsons is doubled on this deal, cuz even a corp that wants ta play, anyone in the chain is infected, that could screw the whole thing. An' on top o' that, we's gittin' hunted an' hunted hard. We got at least the world's most powerful mega an' the UK gummint gunnin' fer us, an' I doubt they's all. Hell, it's a wonder they ain't caught up to us already."
He was watching the Doc's reactions. The man and his wife were obviously sharp people, and the stakes were highest for them. "So all I's sayin' is, ya wanna shop, yeah, ya should. But the deal onna table ta beat is this: dragon lady an' her bit o' NeoNet are in play now, she's high enough to make executive decisions herself, we got reason ta believe she wants the Doc alive an' not dead, an' we got a history o' playin' runners straight. Any shoppin' ya do, ya gotta be able ta do fast, I mean hours, not days. An' you gotta have contact with people high enough ta act independent but with they organization's backin', an' you gotta know 'em.
"An' ya gotta do yer shoppin' quiet enough ya don't jist throw blood inna water callin' more sharks to the frenzy."
He turned to the vamp. Looking at her in that schoolgirl skirt, it occurred to him that she fit the title figuratively as well as literally. "Li'l darlin', all those is great places ta start. Ya got anyone in those institutions meets the criteria I laid out? At this point, wouldn't surprise ol' Al fer a second if'n ya did."
-
"The Vamp" giggles, sounding her apparent age rather than her actual one. "Renraku, no. Japanacorps don't look well on metas, women, or vampires. Draco though? Yes, actually. I know a couple people." She grins broadly at the expression of surprise on the Doctor's face. "What? You didn't think I spend all my time covering for Fee, did you?" She looks back at Al. "I have a contact or two. Fee is trying to get DF to sponsor me going to school in the UCAS, so I can hit those channels." Victoria's tone gets a bit defensive. "Fee can be irritating, loud, and volatile, but she tries. Her heart is in the right place. A fringe benefit with Draco is that she would accept them as a client no questions asked, and you wouldn't have to argue with the angry combat spellworm."
-
Aaron leans against a wall with a clear line of sight to the door and to the family. He stands, listening to the discussing while idly spinning the cylinder in his Taurus Omni. He'd changed out the ammo to explosive rounds, reasoning that anyone crashing this party deserved at least as much. This whole situation had pretty much soured him on the whole shadow running thing. Wading through astral spaces and haunted catacombs, dodging bullets while trying to find an end-game on the fly, losing team members and getting new ones every few hours. Seemed like his head could just come off from a damned spirit or invisible assassin at any second, and he'd be lucky if anyone so much as blinked about it. Something had him in a pretty pissy mood, but he didn't especially care to think about whatever it might be. Instead he just hoped some black-clad corp thug would walk through the door with a bulls-eye on his chest asking for trouble. But while he waited, there was only one other thing that could be done.
"Hey Al, you got a beer?"
-
"Well, if'n they got juice, an' ya know 'em well 'nuff ta trust yer life to 'em, ol' Al'd be obliged if'n ya reached out in a quiet sorta way," he answered the girl, reminding himself every time he wanted to stare at those cute young lips that behind them waited a pair of blood-drinking fangs.
And speaking of drinking, "Tragically, amigo, no. Though I reckon I'm off it till we get this package delivered." Al couldn't believe what he'd just said. He'd never taken a job seriously enough to forego a few brews. For a second he thought he saw the white Akita in the corner, but then it was gone. "Still, as our guides've been at pains ta point out, there's things we need. Don't like the idea of thinnin' our security - was hopin' young Victoria here might be kind enough to pick some things up. This hotel got room service - vittles an' whatnot?"
-
Victoria dimples impishly. "Of course, Counselor Guthrie." She says cheerfully. "I can be your errand girl." She produces a commlink from somewhere, a sleek, flat-profile model and checks something quickly. "Nacht doesn't have room service as such, because its so close to Nightside, but I can get food and drink while I'm out. You'll need someone to check the local fare, too. Not all of it is surfacer-friendly." She winces. "Tempura tarantula is not for everyone." She looks up from her commlink and adds, "As for Draco, I'm not sure I'd trust my life to them willingly, but they know what I am and where I am- they have for months- and no one's come to collect the bounty. I'll see what I can shake loose on that front."
She turns to the family and produces a pair of half-frame glasses that give her a cutely bookish look, then uses the high-end vision suite to take measurements of everyone. Turning back to Al she says, "Okay, Grandpa. I'm going to go get some new threads so Herr Doktor and his family can blend in with the local yokels, and food for everyone. I shouldn't be too long." She looks up at the drone and adds, "I'll check in on Nitro while I'm out, too, and I promised. Comm me with anything else you need within reason." She stands, instructing one of her bound spirits to stay in the astral and guard the suite, then casts about for her cloak and asks, "Anything else before I told off?"
-
"Vicki, it is great that you do some legwork, but for food and drinks we'll do it ourselves. We will be alright, we're in a hotel and I am sure these goods are not very far.
He thinks to himself - a teenage Banshee should not be the one to fetch drinks and food, who knows how sketchy her knowledge of food is. She might have never had an alcoholic beverage or a descent meal in her life.
He looks at Aron and say: "Glad you could join us, what do you think? You've been awfully quite since the extraction. I am Solo by the way."
The watchers were were patrolling the house like ghosts, ignoring doors walls and small obstacles. One of them stayed at all time near the family, while the other two patrolled outside. Solo looked at a watcher that just crossed the room and, then said.
"Actually... I think, we can send one of the watchers to do shopping for us and that way we only need to go out if they do not do deliveries... as boring as that sounds we really should avoid site seeing. This run seems like a horror show where more and more of us just disappear every time we look away... speaking of disappearing... anyone seen Tobias recently? I mean he is easy to miss but is he still around? "
-
Thanks to his own measures to prevent communication with his jammer, Isaint only had his eyes and hands to convey the message to Solo that this was a very bad thing to say. Prevent a woman from going shopping? Even I know that that spells trouble.
But he would be damned if he intervened. Instead he said: "As for that: Some basic supplies for a food processor will do. Regarding alcoholic beverages and other recreational drugs: If you have to have them to feel on the level, do so. But we are still on the clock so I'd prefer my colleagues rather to be sober."
He turned back to the others: "But back to topic: I have no-one that I could conceivably contact. There are a few S-K connections, but neither are those really friendly, nor seem the local S-K to be trustworthy. Especially after we probably trashed one of their heli's and HTR teams.
If you contact them, be sure to route your call through a Sneak program so it's bounced a few times around. Solo or I can help you with that."
-
To Isaint he said: "I do not intend to get drunk, but some gourmet food and matching wine can actually be very fun... I prefer to feel relaxed and peaceful when I can, it is my treat - lets deal with that after we finish with strategy. "
"About SK I feel that these guys want the doc dead. at least they did not mind tossing in heavy weapons and risk hurting the family. I know a guy at Ares that I can trust with my life but I am not sure if they are particularly interested. Or if he have access to a decision maker, I actually never been in a situation like this before. "
-
Victoria rolls her eyes and gives Solo a withering look. "If you want to end up going into toxic shock, by all means shop for your own meal. As for everyone else, I'll do my best. Fee's taught me how to cook and I can still taste stuff, so I'm not, like, totally clueless. But really, some of the stuff down here requires a tolerance that you don't have unless you've lived here. Fee was sick for two weeks when we first came down."
Victoria looks at Isaint. "I'll make sure the water is bottled and tabbed, the food is safe to eat, and I'll do my best to refrain from billing you for a half-kilo of novacoke." She purses her lips, then shrugs and says, "Antibiotics, zeta-interferon and binder might not be a bad call. Long Haul and Jaw, too. Y'know, safe, OTC stuff." She grins again, this time showing a centimeter of icy-white fang. "Its not my first dance, Mr. Saint." She crosses her arms under her modest chest, idly tapping her ribs with one delicate finger. "You'd have to set up and program an SPU, and getting soystock down here might be more trouble than its worth. I'll see what I can find, but these people need food now. They're not used to living like 'runners sometimes have to." She sniffs slightly and glances at Al, then adds, "I'll make sure there's smokes in there too. You guys can pay me back later. I'll leave the line open if you want to add or subtract anything."
She looks up at the drone and says, "I'll be by a few minutes, Hades. If you want to add anything you need right this second, comm me. Otherwise I'll get your order when I see you." Walking toward the door, she gestures sharply and a spirit shimmers into view. Its a man, or reasonably man-shaped, with a heavy-looking sword in its hand and iron boots on its feet. Its form is that of a powerfully built elf with cruel, brutal features and a red beret perched on its steely-grey hair. In gaelic, Victoria tells it, "Stay here. Guard the astral against any that might seek to enter without the permission of the occupants." The redcap gives a cruel smile and vanishes back whence it came and Victoria, now satisfied, steps out the door, blurring into near invisibility as soon as she is out of sight. True to her word, she leaves her comm line open, her librarian's glasses relaying a chaotic view as she zips through the hotel back toward the market.
-
Solo softly said "Okay... get me some chaos reagents while you are at it. 2k should do the trick I'll wire the money directly to the seller. I also have a bike so some directions towards the nearest connection to London upside."
Solo was not planning to eat anything from a filthy neighborhood underground. The place seemed polluted and toxic.
-
Typical, a place where you can get hellhound eyes on toast and distilled moonshadow, but a vaccuum sealed package of foodprocessor paste is a rarity.
"Yeah, sure. Thanks."
Isaint turned to the rest of the crew: "Before this progresses any further, I'll go and take a quick shower."
Picking up his gear, he went into the not yet occupied room, disrobed and took a long awaited, scalding hot shower.
#129
-
Solo thinks "This is impossible to make a meaningful discussion like that. Why didn't he shower during the hour everyone were waiting for me. Off course I am in no place to complain. I just created five watcher spirits, relatively powerful ones without even knowing I can do it."
Solo looked distanced, he was silent but his thoughts raced.
"M... how come I can make watcher spirits?"
"Oh... you have forgotten a lot. You were much more powerful once, strongest mage I have met."
"What happened to me? who is this dark one?"
"Well since you already know about Dark one I will tell you this, you had a difficult life. Growing up, you were experimented on that's you do know - but what was the experiment? That you do not know. "
"What was the experiment?"
"You were not considered metahuman in the early days. So IDI took you for research."
"What were they after?"
"I do not know exactly, times were different back then and my understanding of meta humanity was lacking. What they did fundamentally changed your aura, you picked up many skills and very quickly. You started to be interested in technology and and became a decker at half the time it took others. Your drive in life changed - you were obsessed constantly studying."
"I am still very skilled, what does it have to do with dark one?"
"Nobody understood it but you became less and less stable, something very fundamental in your soul felt the manipulation and with each passing day and each new skill you picked up overnight that part became increasingly resentful."
"I already know that I eliminated an entire division in IDI, I probobly was very pissed off"
"No you weren't you loved IDI, when you discovered the truth about you and how your entire family did not survive the experiment, you decided to take your own life. You couldn't continue living in a cooperation that you now hated and you couldn't even imagine doing anything violent about it, or leave it."
"I am obviously - still alive what happened?"
"You were weak and that dark part of you took over. Your first casualty was your secretary, she found out that you were trying to commit suicide she tried to talk you out of it but you just killed her. Do you remember it? Her name was Dana."
"I am sorry, I never knew I had a secretary, in fact I know that I had one I know that I worked in IDI and killed many people in there, but it feels like a dream, not like something that actually happened to me."
"Well since you killed her, you crossed a line you just killed and killed and no one seemed to be able to stop you. You were one of the most powerful people in IDI, you managed to erase yourself in a combination of magical and technological methods. You wen't rampage in the shadows doing the most dirty of jobs."
"I vaguely remember killing people - but I haven't killed anyone in many years now. How did it stop?"
"You stopped it... you defeated dark one. "
"I stopped myself? "
"In a way, you invented a ritual to brake a personality fragment from a man. "
"I did what!? "
"You took out the dark one outside of your head."
"This does not make any sense, I don't remember any of it "
" I just know that when the ritual was done you barely remembered who you are but you could barely hurt a soul. "
"I know that I am insane... but it seems like I was pretty fucked up even before I did that to myself. "
"Well, part of that ritual was designed to cause you to lose as much of your magical talent as possible, so that you can never change your mind."
"What happened then? "
"I do not know... you said your goodbye and never summoned me again for a while. You said that you will probobly never be able to summon me again. But I watched you when I could."
"This is why you asked all these questions... how long ago was it? "
"I do not know, this world feel like a dream for me - time work differently where I live."
"Oh, I had some dark times... I was convinced I was three different people. It took me a while to understand that I wasn't."
"So you do not believe that anymore? "
"Oh, I still feel like different people - but I know that that feeling is false, and I try to stay balanced and avoid stressful situations, because I have no idea how stable I am"
"Indeed, you barely feel a thing since you summoned me, completely numb. "
"I have no idea why I am like that... I was a lot more emotional when before I understood that I am very sick. But then, I started feeling stuff from my summoned spirits. When that chopper went down I felt the pain the spirit felt."
"I am a bit confused right now. "
"Why are you confused? "
"Because you love me. I can see it, you are genuinely in love with me. "
"I like you do not be an ass about it"
"But you never felt like that before..."
"What was our relation before I lost my mind? "
"I was completely in love with you. I even allowed you to fetter me."
"And I ? "
"You were cold, you used me. Eventually you grew used to me and took me for granted."
"Did I hurt you?"
"Very much, but the day you released me you seemed genuinely regretful. "
"But I did not love you... why did you came back?"
"I am not sure, I was curious... I still felt guilty even after you made me your slave. I still was the one that killed your mother when she tried to escape."
"You just did not want to be bound and she was not powerful enough, I forgive you. "
"No you DON'T you never did. You manipulated me, used my emotions. Deep down you hated me. You only say that you forgive me because you became numb and you feel nothing toward no one."
"You just said that I am in love with you tough - you are not making a lot of sense."
"I know this is why I am confused, you love me like I loved you. "
"But you did not want me to bind you..."
"Please don't... I am not ready for such a commitment. I do not trust you enough."
"I do not know what to say... You just told me I love you. Do you feel anything toward me?"
"I do not know... you forgot everything, almost everything but I remember it all. I enjoy your new self, I will give you that."
"You are afraid that the ritual failed and I will revert into my old self that abused you?... don't answer I know you do. I cannot even imagine hurting you, I will do anything within my power so that does not happen again.
"This is what makes it so sad... I know you will but you grow in power fast, you just relearned ritual spell casting in an hour. What if you are changing right in front of my eyes?"
"Please do not cry... We are in a public place and they already think that I am completely insane."
"I can't help it, I am so sad."
Solo's eyes became wet, he apologized and said "Just give me a minute... I'll go wash my face." He spent a couple of minutes crying until he could contain M's deep sorrow.
-
Victoria uses her supernatural speed to effect, whipping down the tunnels until she got to Nightside, where such a breakneck pace is as likely to kill her as speed her progress. First things first. The 'runners had undoubtedly been in even more filthy and desperate situations than this one, but the Doctor and his family came from privilege. They would need a little help.
With that in mind, Victoria walks quickly through the middle level of the market, searching first for an apothecary or a drug smuggler. A proper pharmacist would be impossible to find here, and the medical clinics deepward would charge an arm and a leg for specialized medications. Thankfully, this is Nightside, and it doesn't take long to find what she seeks, a small stall run by an unhealthily thin human with sallow skin and graying hair. He's hawking things surfacers would take for granted; vitamins, immuno-boosters, antidote patches, antihistamines, and analgesics sit in neat rows all around him. Victoria swans up and simply grabs everything that looks useful; a bottle of VitaMax, another of Alphasprin, a sleeve of Long Haul, a small vial of Zeta-Interferon, two packs of Jaw, and an eyedropper full of Nightwatch. She dumps the whole thing in front of the stallkeep, who reads off the price in a bored-sounding tone. A half-dozen corp scrip notes change hands and a few minutes after she arrived at the stall Victoria is on her way again, a black mesh bag held in one hand.
As she walks, she comms Natasha and asks, <<Hey, kitten, have you or your brother got a favorite color? The shadowrunner-chic you're rocking is neat and all, but its still not really armored and its not warm. Between here and Earl's court can get colder'n a witch's tit, so I need to get you some new threads. Gonna need a shoe size too.>>
Then she flips to another window, a much more secure line, and sends, <<Hello, Quicksilver. Was hoping to ask you if Draco might have use for a cutting-edge CFD researcher and his family. Asking for a friend. Would need full relocation package for four, two minors, and stripping of their assets for conversion. Need reply soonest.>>
Finally, she comms Isaint. <<Mr. Saint, I can't help but notice those people are haphazardly armed. I'm sure Fee has told you that no one should go unarmed down here, but at the same time you probably don't want them throwing Ex-squared in the dark. I've got some stuff so they can at least see where they're going now, and there's a couple options. I can get them basic weapons with safe-target systems, but someone'll have to pick up the tab, or I can get them pepper-punch sprays. The pepper punch has less of a chance to go wrong, but its also a lot less effective and actually has a higher chance of collateral if they're in amongst you all. Preference?>>
Her messages sent, Victoria turns and heads for the stairs. Time to check on Nitro.
-
The directions where pretty simplistic, but then in a place like this simple is more useful than detailed. The flamboyant rigger casually slings the assault shotgun across his back, as he expected the obvious augments and the milspec weapon got him several glances, but no trouble. Ahh, here's the stairwell, to the bottom eh? Well, I guess levels are a bit more relative then floors above ground. It may not be the streets he's used to navigating, but he wasn't finding it too hard to get around, that and storing the directions into his Orientation system highlighted the turnings in his image link.
The clinic looked nothing fancy, but he'd done enough augmentations in black market places to know not to judge any shadow clinic by its looks. Going inside he looked around, getting a feel for the place. It wasn't state of the art, but it would do for the kind of work he was after. Tired of my drones pinpointing a sound before I can. Making up his mind he approaches the clinic owner. "Hoi Chume', na'es Nitro, loo'in te ge' so'e wor' do'e, no'in ma'or jussa cy'erear upgra'e." the owner looks him over slowly, noticing the weapon slung across his back. "A runner eh? Come down here to get work done off the books? Well we ain't got everything but you should be able to find what you want, am I to guess you'll be leaving your old set behind?" Nitro nods "Aye, ra'er speciali'ed so ye migh' 'ave trou'le sellin' 'em off whole, bu' ye kinna allways stri' 'em fer com'onen's."
The owner doesn't even blink at this before continuing. "Of course, standard service for your types down here. Had more than a few runners come down here looking to get rid of hot 'ware. Anyway you got records so we know what we're doing or you going to make us work blind?" the flamboyant runner laughs and flicks his fingers, a file showing up on the shop's system, the owner looking down as he read's through it. "Acou'se I'll gi'ya me file... go' too mu' te 'ave ye go inna any wor'..." he trails off suddenly as he finds himself looking down the barrel of a Superwarhawk. "What the hell?! A head full of nanites? You really think I'm just going to let some freaken headcase walk in off the street and contaminate my entire shop and stock?"
"Ahh dreck...."
-
Sometimes, its useful to have a run speed in excess of a hundred kilometers an hour, and be able to casually stroll faster than the surface traffic of a Seattle street.
...Other times, you end up walking into an Sinsearach standoff between a cybered badass with a shotgun and an irate shopkeeper with a revolver.
As the vicissitudes of fate would have it, Nitro is still examining the quality of the rifling on the Super Warhawk stuck in his mug when the slender teenage killing machine strolls into the lobby of the cyberclinic and stops dead. She smiles and starts forward, tossing her lavender hair as she moves- at a normal pace- toward the 'runner.
"Stay back, young miss. This is dangerous, and I wouldn't want a child hurt because of scum like him." The owner spits on the floor, and Victoria's vastly sped-up perceptions allow her to watch the globule fall in slow motion, and still have time to analyze the entire room. She glances at Nitro, who looks more resigned and irritated to her than upset or frightened.
Victoria shakes her head slowly, still smiling sweetly. "Come now, there's no need to stick a gun in his face, is there?" Then she smiles showing three centimeters of icy-white fang and her eyes grow to their full brightness, a horrible, chilling white glow completely devoid of warmth. "Get the goddamn gun out of his face. He's clearly been around the block. He came in here in good faith, even that might not kill him, if you frag up the man is carrying an assault shotgun, and even if you do manage to slag him, then you'll get to explain to Goodnight why she doesn't get to do it instead."
At the mention of Goodnight, the man's face goes a horrible sort of greyish-green, and he finally looks over at Victoria. Its only a glance, but then he does a double-take, startling magnificently. Unlike her sister, VIctoria is legitimately terrifying. Goodnight is too pretty to really pull off scary, and while Victoria is possessed of the same incredible looks, she is subtly inhuman, and the eyes and fangs strip away the thin veneer of her metahumanity to reveal the monster underneath. While his attention is divided, Victoria is suddenly only a meter away. still smiling that horrible smile, as if daring him to try his luck.
Apparently, she is definitely Goodnight's sister.
"Your call, honey." She says simply. "You can shoot him and die now or later, or you can take the gun out of his face, let him explain, and maybe make some money."
<<You, uh, wanna explain this to me, sweet pea?>> She sends to Nitro.
-
Nitro looks back at the vampiric elf and gives a faint 'thanks' smile, in the time it takes for that to happen he shoots her a short message. <<A slight professional risk at the moment... you know that doc is mixed up in the whole CFD thing? Well, I use nanites, hard nanites. I got them and a Nano Hive to regulate them a while back to boost the effectiveness of my Control Rig. Unfortunately now is, well a bad time to be having nanomachines running around your brain, he didn't find out accidentally, I supplied the info along with all my other 'ware so he knew what he was working with. I guess I can't really blame then for being jumpy down here.>>
The message sent he keeps his arms hands away from his body, even if the owner hadn't noticed the bulge of the sawnoff under his coat there was still a milspec assault shotgun to worry about. "Well I mussay I canna faul' ye' cau'ion, 'imes bein' asay are. Bu I mussay, if ye was gonna shoo' me inna hea' thin'in' I wassa a hea'case I sure as fraggin HOPE ye dinna 'ave Ex-Ex or Hollow Pion's loa'ed inna tha' thin... The lassthin' ye wanna 'ave is grey ma'er ll o'er yesshop."
-
'BEEEEP - BEEEEP'
"Every, god damn time I'm in the shower or taking a bath." Isaint hopped out of the spray and to his pile of gear. With his wet hair he didn't want to apply the trode net, so he opened the message on the small screen of his link.
<<Mr. Saint, I can't help but notice those people are haphazardly armed. I'm sure Fee has told you that no one should go unarmed down here, but at the same time you probably don't want them throwing Ex-squared in the dark. I've got some stuff so they can at least see where they're going now, and there's a couple options. I can get them basic weapons with safe-target systems, but someone'll have to pick up the tab, or I can get them pepper-punch sprays. The pepper punch has less of a chance to go wrong, but its also a lot less effective and actually has a higher chance of collateral if they're in amongst you all. Preference?>>
Still to wet to touch anything he commanded his agent:
"Susi: Record and send reply: "Yeah, good thinking. Currently they have two tasers from my arsenal but getting them their own weapons is probably prudent: Specifications: Defiance Ex Shocker with laser sight and safe targeting. Four of them, one for every family member. Also if you can swing it: Forearm guards with integrated shock weave. It's a good defense measure against being grabbed and dragged away.
Thanks for your help(.) e(/a)nd message.
Now where the hell do they keep those extra towels. Oh well, time for a shave you old ugly bastard. Hm, now full beard is out, maybe a nice early century mustache. Yeah I think that's it. Send's the right message.
#130
-
Solo said lets talk some security while our saint is away. "We are very good on the astral, nothing is expected to pass the astral here without at least getting spotted. Physical security I have 3 flying eyes that I keep outside our perimeter... But given our previous experience I suggest checking out the floors below and above us, to see if we see anything suspicious. Lets not fall to the same tick twice, SK dudes have already blew up the floor beneath our legs. "
He then pauses, and take a deep breath.
"I have my bike waiting for us below the building completely active and ready to go. I will try and get more growlers - hopefully at least 3 more. They are amazing in this terrain and our desperate ''everything goes to hell MO'' should be to grab your favorite family member and ride as far as possible. If I'll have enough time I will bind some spirits to add to security but mainly to make us a lot more faster in case we need to run away.
It is sad to note, but our numbers are not as they were. Goodnight is gone, Vicki despite everything is a 16 years old girl. She may be powerful - but she is still a teenage. Teenagers are not known for their restraint and she will get very hungry as the hours go by. Especially if she keeps this level of activity. Goodnight usually take care of her god knows how, but as long as Goodnight is out - Vicki is a time bomb. She might not be able to control herself - it take practice time and maturity to achieve self control for the infected. None of us know how green she really is..." ... Solo thinks "Just how do I know this stuff?!"
-
Aaron frowns at all the talk of sobriety and such. He simply goes back to spinning the Omni's cylinder while keeping his eyes and ears open for intruders. Street thugs and protesters were much simpler to deal with, usually operating on the hope of a surprise attack or an incompetent guard. All this spirit and magic business, Solo off in a room having some kind of one-man orgy, it was all very unsettling. That must be why they call him "Solo".
As the man introduced himself, Aaron nodded. "Yeah, it's hard to miss your name. I'm Jackhammer, as you know. And I thought I was one of two normal guys in this whole business, doc & family not included." he says, nodding at the family. "But then eyes-saint over there said no beer. So I guess I'm the only normal guy left."
-
"I'll get you beer dear Jackhammer... Hold on lets see if I can find a place with good reviews down here... These are the best reviews I can found:"
"The beer is non toxic, I had a terrible hangover but survived - CrazyO"
"Their German beers are amazing... but don't drink anything off the tap. Steph the Ripper"
"The dancing dwarf is the place to drink with a foreigner, you just need to replace the foreigner every night. - Duke"
Solo Shows Jackhammer the reviews-
"these are the best I found.
What do you say Mr. Jack Hammer - feeling adventures? we can send the bike to collect the order. "
-
Aaron puts crosses one arm across his waist and uses the other to prop up his chin. He frowns for a moment, looking into the air.
"You know, Solo, I just don't feel thirsty anymore."
-
"Al's place had great beer, maybe it is for the best... We had good beer and then we almost died... Perhaps we are safer where there is nothing good to drink... but is it worth the price of safety?... Not in Germany it isn't."
He texted Vicki just to be sure:
>> Vicki, you wouldn't happen to know anything about beer would you?
-
Al had been thinking about security, and while many of Solo's thoughts seemed outlandishly complicated, the man's words about their last meet had blown up under their feet had given him a thought.
But it was hard to stay focused with all this talk about beer.
Drinking - right - he found an ashtray and poured water from the complimentary decanter into, then set it by the door to the lounge. Some alien, guttural words brought a thirsty Spike over. The dog lapped at the water greedily, but it was also clear the animal had been assigned his post.
Then Al said, "Solo, they ain't no floor above us, this is the top. Or so they say. Might be worth sendin' one o' yer little ghostly selves to see if there're any unmarked passages or shafts leadin' in here besides this one door, an' if'n they can peek into the rooms below us, see if there's an empty one. An' you got, what, five o' the beasties? How 'bout one down on the street or inna lobby. A few cameras down there, an' spaced along the stairs wouldn't be a bad idea either," he added, looking at Tobbis.
Then he started walking through the rooms, studying the floor.
-
Okay lets do it. "I am not always sure what of the stuff I say actually make sense, but you seem to be thinking clearly tonight. So lets check the lobby and rooms below, lets send one Solo to the roof just in case someone make us a nasty surprise there." Said Solo.
-
"Well, seein' as how this is all unnerground, this place even have a roof?"
Al looked around, seeing no sign of any windows.
"Or we jist got a few dozen meters o' bedrock above us, interspersed with a few layers o' forgotten infrastructure, an' workin' infrstructure on top o' that?"
He shrugged.
"Sure as hell worth a look, cuz ol' Al honestly don't know."
-
[spoiler]
Disguise test with facial sculpt:
Disguise (http://orokos.com/roll/315931): 14d6t5 5 [14d6t5=6, 3, 3, 5, 5, 1, 3, 4, 2, 1, 2, 1, 6, 5]
[/spoiler]
True to his word, only 10 minutes later Isaint reappeared from the bathroom. Fresh, cleanly shaved and with a pretty impressive mustache and a fitting new face.
Seeing Al casing the rooms he arched an eyebrow: "You look like a cat trying to find an escape route. We should probably mine the stairs with a packet that we can ready quickly in case of an assault team."
He turned to the family: "Ok, until we hear back from the contacts to your possible new employers, it would be best if you could find some sleep. The suites are ready for you. Please segregate by gender, since the Doc as the prime target will have to have a guard in his room at all times. Enjoy your sleep, you never know when you'll get the chance to do so again."
-
"Yeah, good idear, I can do that too..." Al did a double-take when he saw the ork. "Sheee-it, hombre, who the hell're you and what'd ya do with Isaint after stealin' his damned voice?"
Chuckling to himself, he set about measuring det cord, saying in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear before they could disappear to their rooms. "Lissen up, y'all, things go sideways an' we git penned up in here, that there's our out. If'n our exits is blocked, I'll blow the floor in here, so stay until ya hear the blast, then head down. Worst case, natch."
Seeing the uncertain looks on the faces of the Pelletieres, he made it simple. "It gits hot, ya jist stick ta yer closest one of us'n, do exactly what they say."
Once he'd set that charge, covering it with a mattress and running a pull detonator outside the room, he set about preparing a surprise for anyone coming up the stairs. Just a small, discreet package with a radio detonator. He bummed one of the minicams Tobbis had and went out onto the landing. He remembered a potted plant that would be perfect.
He took Spike with him, rasping a few strange-sounding words as he discreetly affixed the camera to the top of the stairwell. As he did so, he looked for any cameras the hotel itself might have. He didn't see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there. So next, as if taking Spike down for a step outside, the dog proceeded to relieve itself in the potted plant. Al acted extremely angry, scolding the dog in English, waving his arms and attempting to pull the stubborn dog away from the plant, dropping the parcel into the pot as he did so. Then he ranted and chased the disobedient dog back into the lounge, where he rewared it with a protein bar once they were in private.
While slaving the camera feed to his commlink, he said to Isaint - "Mined stairway, check. Now no one bother ol' Al less'n ya got chow, smokes, or an offer fer the family."
Then, leaving Spike in his position by the door, he pulled an armchair around to where it faced both suite doors, slouched down with his Remington across his knees and commlink's screen in view, and half shut his eyes.
-
"You guys completely lost your mind... I am genuinely struggling to keep some sort of sanity, but you are completely insane... we are not going to let Vicki with metahumans in the same room, she eats meta humans it is in her nature. It is not her fault but this is what she is... you are risking the family and tormenting a young banshee putting her at constant temptation of doing evil.
Goodnight is completely unstable, she is suffering from some serious emotional trauma. She resorted to violence over trivial things three different times since we met her. She can kill someone in her sleep just from having a bad dream. Seriously... you are letting all that good looks confuse you. I understand she is indeed breath taking - and Natasha might never be able to stand up to her, but she understand that being around Goodnight is dangerous.
Am I the only one that still see things for what they are... these sisters are like armed explosives. They get their own room - and if you ask me, it may be best to even lock their door. I am sure both of them would have no problem overcome a locked door, but the time it may take them to brake it may deter their dark side from emerging. Think about Vick, with an open door and a super human speed she can be anywhere in a spit second. She can eat someone before we notice it. She may be able to control herself in her own home, but sleeping with metahumans - her hunger will grow wild and being so fast a bite is just a split second from thought to execution.
A locked door is in her best interest. "
Solo is clearly upset, he knows that the dark should be contained. That safety mechanisms should be put in place to stop the darkness - he demolished his own personality gave up his entire sanity to contain darkness but these runners seem ignorant to the danger.
-
Al looked around to see whether any of the family members were in earshot.
"Kemo sabe, that's the sanest thing I heard ya done say all day. But what makes ya think either one o' them ladies even plannin' on stayin' here tonight?"
He actually hoped at least the young one would come back soon - she had promised cigarettes.
"Tell ya what, we keep all doors open all the time. That way no one's really alone with no one. Trouble is, you try ta tell either one o' those harridans we don't trust 'em with the package, we gon' have the damned EuroWars in here. So come up with a guard roster now that don't include either o' them alone with the family, but has other tactical reasonin' behind it. An' git it in place afore they come back. Then it's done, an no more damned drama."
-
Solo is trying to relax "I do not know... I heard ISaint talking about boys/girls room and it seemed like a scene from an horror movie. I completely lost it. I am really trying to keep my balance and then this runs happens.
They shouldn't sleep here and I will tell them that nicely if they decide to do so. Goodnight have not shown any violence toward me to begin with, she likes M I can tell that. M touches her softer side. I think we can convince her that she is extremely dangerous. Without Goodnight turning this place into a burning inferno in return.
By the way Al... I have a spell that can help with the explosives if you are interested. Will make you smarter."
-
"Peace, friend." Isaint went to Solo and Al and explained in a low murmur:
"Don't scare the ware. I counted your silence as assent after I sent around my message. Sorry.
Trust comes from trust - and if I remember correctly, the only reason Goodnight did not try to make hashée out of me was the presence of the daughter. As I see it, the only reliable way to have her on the team is as protective detail to the girl. I am willing to extend this measure of trust.
And should she go psycho regardless... well we do what we can to prevent that, but at least it doesn't happen in the same room as the Doctor and his son. I count on the fact that she'll come for me first should she finally snap. That should give you others time to do what's necessary.
I know it's cruel, but if the Doc is killed we don't get paid and the rest of the family won't get a new home, but their enemies won't necessarily lose interest in killing them - they'll be hunted down just to tie up loose ends.
All in all it's better for us to have Goodnight in the tent pissing out than outside pissed off."
-
Vicki nods at Nitro's message and...words. "The man has a point. He could have let you go blind, and if he wanted you infected it would have happened by now." She carefully reaches up, placing two fingers on the side of the barrel and slowly but firmly pushes it aside. Then, stepping back, Victoria says, "See? Not so hard. Now, why dont you two play nice? Let the man get his upgrades and take his money. Everyone is happy. Or don't, but that's bad business. And don't think about putting him under and then harming him or you'll get to see what happens when my sister is angry. You and I both know she isnt stable..."
The cybertech nods slowly and reluctantly lowers the gun, and Vicki flashes Nitro a smile. Mouthing, "Good luck," she turns to leave, but she shoots Nitro a message as she goes. <<When you're done, if you're up for it, you might want to see Fee while she cant fight.>> She appends a map and directions, then vanishes out the door.
Heading back to the hotel she gets the message about beer. She doesnt know squat about booze, but she knows a lot about bartenders, and its easy enough to come away from a dive bar with a twelve pack of a San Francisco microbrew and two dozen tabs of Rush. At the last second she gets two packs of Fee's brand of cigarettes, then heads back toward the hotel, figuring she'll stop for food on the way.
-
Nitro gives the elvish vampire a nod and a smile, even if it is slightly nervous. By the time Vivki has reached the door the two are engaged in technobable about cybernetics and audio equipment. It took a bit of scrounging to find compatible parts, and modifications to others to make them adaptable, but finally the new ears are being assembled. Rating 2 alphaware ears with Nitro's distinctive rigid antennae, an increased hearing spectrum module to allow hearing into the infra and ultra sonic ranges, a sound damper to protect against sonic attacks and flashbangs and the new additions, a rating 2 Select Sound Filter to block out certain sounds or single them out as well as a Spatial Recognizer to assist in pinpointing their location.
The whole system combining to allow Nitro to listen for sounds outside the normal human spectrum, isolate them and zero in on their location... A system that made his hearing even more like a sophisticated sensor array than normal metahuman hearing. Finally the new system was assembled and preparations made for the quick surgery to swap out the cyberears. His cybereyes closing as he was given the general anesthetic for the procedure.
The last thing he saw was a pear of despairing eyes... and a pair of furious ones.
*****************
His head ached abominably, a combination of the rushed hot-swap procedure and his brain struggling to process the new information. He'd done this type of work swap over before, it was far from ideal, but the line up of funds, a clinic and enough time to get 'ware swapped out on a run was a rare luxury, and from the way the crew he'd been hired to help out was talking, they where going to need any and every advantage they could get.
He starts wandering through the market as his image link scrolls through messages while he was out. Seems like they're still waiting to hear back from a couple of potential buyers. I should probably head back, I'm pretty much acting as muscle now...
He stopped suddenly, automatically checking his orientation system and realizing he'd been subconsciously following the directions Viki had given him.
Dreck... this is crazy. Shell' frag me.
I did leave her though.
Seven years, and she survived, and she's dangerous.
Because I left her.
Fraggit, I know this is stupid. But, damnit she's here. One way or another, I have to see her again.
Whatever that brings.
Because everything has a price.
Shaking his head, partially in disbelief at himself, and partially to shake the pounding headache he gets his Orientation system working on the directions, this a careful though he tunes the Select Sound Filter to listen for and alert him to any footsteps following him.
[spoiler]Post count 95[/spoiler]
-
"Peace, friend." Isaint went to Solo and Al and explained in a low murmur:
"Don't scare the ware. I counted your silence as assent after I sent around my message.
Trust comes from trust - and if I remember correctly, the only reason Goodnight did not try to make hashée out of me was the presence of the daughter. As I see it, the only reliable way to have her on the team is as protective detail to the girl. I am willing to extend this measure of trust
And should she go psycho regardless... well we do what we can to prevent that, but at least it doesn't happen in the same room as the Doctor and his son. I count on the fact that she'll come for me first should she finally snap. That should give you others time to do what's necessary.
I know it's cruel, but if the Doc is killed we don't get paid and the rest of the family won't get a new home, but their enemies won't necessarily lose interest in killing them - they'll be hunted down just to tie up loose ends.
All in all it's better for us to have Goodnight in the tent pissing out than outside pissed off."
"I do not think you are right" Said Solo. "Goodnight does not always behave like a psychopath. Nobody would dare to hire her if she did. She failed to keep her personal darkness under control. One thing led to another and she behaved in an unaccepted way. If we start pretending that we are cool with that we will only further damage her, as it will happen again.
She is an established runner of good reputation - we should expect nothing less from her. I am not risking anybody because Goodnight is too insane to accept responsibility for her actions. Nor because she is too sensitive and may be violent if confronted with the truth. I know one thing about people, they usually behave the way you expect them to behave. If you expect Goodnight to be insane she will be. Expect her to be a professional and you get a professional.
We have a job and we have a responsibility, so does Goodnight. She is not doing us a favor, she need the money and reputation just like the rest of us. If Goodnight stays with us, she is treated like a runner - and should be aware of her weaknesses - no body is perfect and we might meet her psychotic nature again, but I expect her to do anything within her power it does not happen, and I am going to send her that message."
-
"I won't try to stop you. If you are successful and come to an understanding - great. If anyone can manage such an eye to eye talk it's you.
But be aware that you might cost us her goodwill - such as we have left.
When we started we had four mages on the team - now we are reduced to you and Goodnight. We really can't afford to lose more magical fire power or make more enemies. And don't forget the fact that Goodnight could reasonably claim that you yourself are not entirely sane either - or anyone else left on this team."
Isaint made a very light hip thrust at his last words and winked at Solo.
"But if people behave as you expect them to behave, I'd still say: Trust and expect her to behave like any other member of the team and allow her to play to her strengths. As I said before: Respect is what is keeping this group together so far. Being exiled to the dog house does neither this nor that."
-
Al slouched deeper into his black synthleather armchair as he tried to follow the twists and turns of the debate..
"Solo buddy, i appreciate yer offer, but if makin' me smart as you gon' tie my thinkin' up in pretzels the way yours is, reckon I'll take a pass. 'Sides, charges is all set already. Reckon ol' Al can place a few bits an' bobs of explosive without anyone bewitchin' his noodle, thank ye kindly."
He watched as the four family members set about a bare minimum of ablutions and other sundry preparations for sleep, though William was already splayed on a bed and snoring.
"As fer our esteemed lady friends, listen ta you couple o' head shrinkers. Seems ta me, Solo, ever'thing'd be simpler if ya quit worryin' about what the best damned thing fer Goodbye's career development path is, an' jist focus on the needs o' the moment. Ya both got good points on that, but reckon they ain't no point arguin' it since if we jist keep the doors all open an' a few of us awake, it's all beside the point. Ain't no reason fer anyone ta be alone with anyone fer the duration."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~09:32, Nacht, London Below, London]
As the group settle down to a restless sleep, or other downtime activity, the wait continues…the wait for their acquaintances to establish contact, the wait to see if they are ambushed again, the wait to see if infighting will rift the group further apart…
A message pinged on Al’s link
<<@Al [Silk]: I’ve made contact with eTher and as you’ve no doubt guessed she is very interested in your package. She has proposed a meet with either herself or one of her agents, location of your choosing. I can set one up for you but London isn’t really my back yard and I don’t have many contacts there. Do you want me to make further arrangements? She is happy for you to contact her directly if you so choose, you have her code I believe?>>
The Draco Foundation have yet to get back to Vicki, but then it’s damn early across the pond…
***
#41
-
<<if it hasn't changed, then yes I've got it. If we meet, then it's with her, not some agent. She can bring who else she wants. Guess we'll take it from here, though. Reckon I owe you (another) one.>>
Al looked around. Through the open bedroom doors, he could at least partially see all four family members where they slept. Some of the runners had crashed in shifts. Neither of the Bobsey Twins had reappeared.
Not wanting to wake anyone needlessly, he motioned to those that were awake to gather around.
"Okay, my girl says Dragon Lady is extremely innerested. In fact, she says she'll come to a meet herself, an' we can choose the where. I'm gonna contact 'er directly once we decide our play."
Where was that girl with the cigarettes?
"Now obviously we don't take the family to the meet, but I also say we do have 'em somewhere real close, so if we does strike a deal we can move straight fer the hand-off. That'll mean most of us stayin' to pertect 'em, an' just a couple goin' to chat. One'll be me, since we know each other. Then whichever o' y'all has the best business sense an' the levelest head. An' another thing, we do what we need ta do defensively, but no funny stuff at the meet - no hackin' the counterparty, no ghost-world creepy-crawly - we play it straight an' don't risk blowin' the deal."
He braced for the argument and analysis, but tried to remind himself that was a good thing.
"So what we need is ta pick the spot. Sooner we do, sooner ol' Al can make the call."
-
"I won't try to stop you. If you are successful and come to an understanding - great. If anyone can manage such an eye to eye talk it's you.
But be aware that you might cost us her goodwill - such as we have left.
When we started we had four mages on the team - now we are reduced to you and Goodnight. We really can't afford to lose more magical fire power or make more enemies. And don't forget the fact that Goodnight could reasonably claim that you yourself are not entirely sane either - or anyone else left on this team."
Isaint made a very light hip thrust at his last words and winked at Solo.
"But if people behave as you expect them to behave, I'd still say: Trust and expect her to behave like any other member of the team and allow her to play to her strengths. As I said before: Respect is what is keeping this group together so far. Being exiled to the dog house does neither this nor that."
"I understand where you are coming from, lets see how it plays out. Being beaten to unconsciousness by your own sister in front of anyone probobly means that it will be awkward to show her face again. Lets see if she will even come tonight, spirits are not known for their mastery of medic kits - and they typically mojo their way out of problems even when it is not the right tool.
Everything I said comes from respect to us and to her. Like you guessed I know a thing or two about losing my marbles. I do not like it and I am not trying to hide it. There is no scenario where I decide to use violence against my teammate. In fact, I am a bit surprised of my emotional response to the manner. - and I completely agree with everything you said about mages - they do not seem to last in our group. I hope it is not a bad omen for myself. I think we should just sleep it off - we are all exhausted"
By the way... I like your new look by the way - you seem completely different. I bet people rarely recognize and if you change your behaviour a little bit - you would be completely like a new person. "
He said as he started getting ready to sleep.
-
<<if it hasn't changed, then yes I've got it. If we meet, then it's with her, not some agent. She can bring who else she wants. Guess we'll take it from here, though. Reckon I owe you (another) one.>>
Al looked around. Through the open bedroom doors, he could at least partially see all four family members where they slept. Some of the runners had crashed in shifts. Neither of the Bobsey Twins had reappeared.
Not wanting to wake anyone needlessly, he motioned to those that were awake to gather around.
"Okay, my girl says Dragon Lady is extremely innerested. In fact, she says she'll come to a meet herself, an' we can choose the where. I'm gonna contact 'er directly once we decide our play."
Where was that girl with the cigarettes?
"Now obviously we don't take the family to the meet, but I also say we do have 'em somewhere real close, so if we does strike a deal we can move straight fer the hand-off. That'll mean most of us stayin' to pertect 'em, an' just a couple goin' to chat. One'll be me, since we know each other. Then whichever o' y'all has the best business sense an' the levelest head. An' another thing, we do what we need ta do defensively, but no funny stuff at the meet - no hackin' the counterparty, no ghost-world creepy-crawly - we play it straight an' don't risk blowin' the deal."
He braced for the argument and analysis, but tried to remind himself that was a good thing.
"So what we need is ta pick the spot. Sooner we do, sooner ol' Al can make the call."
"Lets meet her in the matrix, she is a matrix animal it will feel just as real for her. We only bring the package when we have a deal with some seriousness money prepaid to torrent. To reduce the risk of being crossed. But we cannot stay here for much longer - we need a new locations, I am sending my watchers to look for Goodnight and Vicki. They cannot be very far, I do not like not having them sleeping in the locked room of safety."
He then ordered S4 and S5 to go search for the girls.
[spoiler]
Search power (watchers) (http://orokos.com/roll/316149): 2#11d6t5 4 4
[/spoiler]
-
Aaron is asleep against the wall of the room where the doctor sleeps--after all, doors would be an amateur's entrance--never one to pass up on unchallenged sleep. He hadn't gotten much sleep in Al's shop, though perhaps more than the others. This was his chance to catch up. As long as all the whirling robots or flying ghosts made their noise when someone approached, there wasn't too much to worry about in the way of surprises. Still, he kept his body armor on and his helmet nearby, his bow and arrows in the corner at his feet and his Taurus in the holster lying next to him. His eyes half-opened as Al whispered something to some of the others, but nobody went for their weapons so he assumed it was all clerical or strategic nonsense that he could ask about tomorrow.
-
Isaint grinned at Solo: "I'm glad we understand each other. And the new look: Yeah, I like to change my natural face - especially if I have potential contact with dragon minions. Wouldn't want them to connect me with my real life ID. But I'm not much of an actor. There is just to much me in there."
Isaint had slept uneasily during his shift and had woken up on the carpeted floor next to Spike. Al's call made him kip up and walk over. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he once again fished his contact from their cleaning solution and inserted them with a small grunt of pain.
"Great news Al. Now, what Solo says makes sense. A matrix meet would probably be the safest and easiest solution. In any case I don't think we should invite them to London Below. If they want a real life meeting, we should go for the nearest entrance to the catacombs. We'll have the family and our guards wait downstairs. If a third party intervenes we can run and lead them away.
Now, that's were we'd need our expert on the Underground and its exits. Seems as if the Baby-Vamp hit her harder than she wanted."
#134
-
Solo thinks, "They freaking gave us her link, why am I using mojo to solve my problems... I am becoming a mage. creepy! "
Solo then texts Nitro >> Hey rigger buddy, we should get going soon. We are now looking for Goodnight as we'll need a guide.
And Vicki: >> Hey Vicki - do you think your sister can be moved in the coming hours? we want to get the balls rolling and I'd hate to put you in harms way. We want to be ready to move quickly.
>> Dear Goodnight-
Are you up yet? How is that headache? I hope you feel better, Yesterday was an emotional roller-coaster not only for you... Listen we need to talk about this, *behavior*, but before that we have work issues -we need to move ourselves. Please call me when you wake up, we need your best self at our side.
Yours truly,
Solo.
-
Dammit - everyone and their uncle wanted to meet in the matrix. Hell, he knew Fairy Twinkle Dragon liked it that way too. Well, this was a job, not a dadblamed pleasure outing. It was a good thing he hadn't eaten much recently.
It occurred to him then that they could just make a deal on the phone, skip the whole meet step and if all went well fast-forward to a hand-off. But that left the Doc's interests pretty much out of the equation, and in that light a virtual meet was best anyway.
"Alrighty, then, we ask fer a matrix meet. She likes those anyway. Not only safer, but we can do it much quicker. An' the Doc can attend that way, negotiate his own package."
He was so eager for this thing to be done, he almost called her right then. But that wasn't the right way.
"So we do that, we can get this deal made right now. Then instead of hightailin' it fer some new temporary location, we can be hightailin' it for a handover site. So how long afore y'all can secure a safe spot inna matrix, where we won't git bushwhacked or backtracked? Fifteen minutes?"
Spike was awake now and came and licked the little man's hand by way of greeting.
"An' then we need the handover spot. Hunnerd percent agree somewhere near a bolthole back into the underdark here. Problem is, ol' Al ain't even sure how ta get out if he wanted to. Solo, you get that girl onna horn yet? And...has anyone got a blamed trode set?"
-
Solo looked at Al, an weighted his words carefully, finally he said: "I assume eTher to be a better Decker then I am. Modesty is an important quality if you want to stay alive. Know your own limits. I'll run all the anti trace programs, buff my sleaze to the maximum and run silent. I will do anything I can to prevent a successful trace.
Still, Our work assumption should be that we were traced in that meeting and our location is exposed. This is why we are not meeting her before we are ready to jump to an alternative location. It will not necessarily be a drop location. Even to eTher it may take some legwork to get a deal approved. NeoNet may betray us despite eTher's own judgement - she has her superiors and cooperation's are like that."
-
Isaint rustled through his pockets, recovering a slightly tangled trode net. "It's from my spare link.
Regarding security: To trace us they have to mark us. I can provide a Transsys with a module for smoke and mirrors as well as a high rating agent to check for MARKs. That should be enough to prevent them from localizing us. I also have a small contingent of agents whose only job it is to support the main agent. If I go into this on full defense, it should be pretty hard to unwittingly get us.
I don't know how competent our opponents are. Maybe we should run a test: You try to hack my system and get a trace on me. That's actually something I've wanted to test for a long time."
[spoiler]
Running silent with Smoke and Mirrors: Log + Sneak + Full Matrix Defense= 9+5
Defense against Hack on the Fly: Int+Firewall+Full Matrix Defense= 14+5
Agent Cluster looking for MARKs: 12 +4 dice
[/spoiler]
-
"I do not mind to try" He takes a sit augments his logic and tries to hack the darn comlink." He struggle with the cluster of agents that seem to catch up very quickly, he almsot get in but then fail as one of these pesky agents discover his attempt. "Close - but no cigar..." Say Solo disappointed. "I can augment your willpower for even harder defense, if you like."
[spoiler]
Solo roll: logic (9) + skill (6) + adept skill (3) + hot sim (2) + brand loyalty (1) = 21 dice
Hack in hot sim (http://orokos.com/roll/316207): 21d6t5 6
(can agent assist hacking?)
Isaint roll: 19 dice ?
Defense vs hack (http://orokos.com/roll/316208): 19d6t5 6
no luck for Solo.
[/spoiler]
-
"As long as you won't give me a foot fetish at the same time, I'm all for it. A bit of extra concentration can't hurt. I'll also add the noise from my jammer to the program. That should limit further their ability to find us.
That means I'll slave your comms and act as router. Should we be marked, we all reboot immediately."
Isaint patted his link. 50k NY he had invested into the hardware had been worth it.
#136
-
Vicki returns, bearing gifts. Her small frame is weighed down with a good thirty kilos of assorted gear and sundries. In addition to beer, medicine, drugs, and water, she has two large paper bags that prove to contain food. One has two dozen skewers of heavily spiced, grilled meat, the other a massivr root vegetable and herb salad in a sharp dressing and a stack of flatbreads. Greek, the Below redux.
Food, drink, drugs, and meds go on the table in the lounge. She turns to Al and quips, "Don't say I never got you anything." Then she tosses him a metal cigarette case bearing the legend, "World's Best Grandpa." Two lighters and two packs of cigarettes accompany it. "Go ahead and eat, everyone. Theres minor league happy pills and long haul in the bag. Doctor, Id recommend you and yours take a vitamax and a zeta-interferon to boost your systems against Below."
She turns to Isaint and reaches behind her, coming up with another mesh bag. This one has four holsters and a handful of extra magazines. "Defiance EXes have wires. Liability in a fight, so I opted for Pulsars and extra darts." She explains. Then she hands over a single magazine for an Ares predator V. "Silver bullets. Im not the only bloodsucker Below."
Turning to Solo Vicki says without preamble, "She can move. She's meeting Nitro now. And you wont be putting me in harm's way. Get some chow and stop worrying about me."
***********
Nitro finds Goodnight's kip easily enough. Outside it doesn't look like much, but Flower opens the door as Nitro approaches, then steps aside to reveal a [/I]really nice three bedroom with real wood paneling. The floor is deep grey carpeting and the whole place smells of real roses. In the living room, lying on the couch in short nylon shorts and a white tanktop is Goodnight. There is a sheathed blade on the table in front of her as well, and a bottle of real beer, and a pistol broken down for cleaning.
She looks up as Nitro enters and tenses, but she doesnt try to kill him. Her hair- black now- shimmers as she brushes it back with one hand. "Hello, Nitro. Nice to see you again. Sit down. Beer?"
-
Al snatched the cigarette case out of the air, glanced at the inscription, then gratefully received the packs of smokes and two lighters.
"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle...or a banshee's grandpa," he grinned. "I thank ye kindly." He gave her a tip of an invisible hat.
The smell of food had sleepers stirring.
"Now ol' Al hates ta look a gift horse an' all that, but another thing we could use, an' lickety split, is the quickest way up to the surface. Someplace we can reach quick, a place topside where we can plan a handoff, but also beat a fast retreat back down here if'n it goes south on us."
-
Isaint grinned as he received the bullets. "Thanks, an additional clip can't hurt. As for the wires, you maybe right, but they lack that extra bit of punch to knock someone out of the fight without a perfect hit. Besides the Defiance can be used as a melee taser. But never mind, if they have to use them, we probably have other things to worry about and they will do to calm and give them confidence."
With practiced movements he removed the heavy pistol ammunition from the magazine and restocked them into a spare one from his Savalette.
Then he took the four tasers and brought them over to the family:
"Early Christmas presents for you." In return he collected his own tasers and let them vanish under his coat.
-
Aaron stirred at the smell of food. His typical face-down, eyes-half-open method of surveying the situation was no longer sufficient as he suddenly realized how hungry he was. He pushes his way to his feet, surprisingly gracefully for a man of such bulk and so little sleep, and made his way over to whatever smelled like it wanted to be eaten. He tried not to wake others with this heavy footfall, but it was difficult to focus on anything that wasn't calories.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to see soy." he says as he rubs his neck with one thick hand and uses the other to clear the sleep from his eyes. "What do we got? I could eat Al's dog right now."
-
To ISaint "I wish I knew how to give people feet fetishes... would have made my love life a lot easier" He laugh. Then he say half to himself half to ISaint because from his experiences most people couldn't care less about magic. "Actually... the more I understand how magic works the more minimalist my ceremony is. I do not move a single muscle to cast a spell... the entire fuss about my ritual magic is because for some odd reason I tried to block my access to these capabilities. The stress of this run must have somehow opened some associative memories that bypass my mental block. These are completely unrelated to the task. Somewhere within all these dancing there is powerful ritual magic, but I do not know exactly what is dancing and singing and what is actual magic. "
To Vicki he say: "These are really good news." Solo say and nod his head. "You did good Vick... You are young and powerful and the world is your playing ground... but can this power let you grow old? how likely are you to reach twenty? how about forty? Things look different with different perspectives. My 16 years old self would not take my advice at 60. Tha 16 years old self would think that I am a stupid adult that understands nothing.
You said that you can feel tastes right? do you have a sense of smell?"
Shortly after Solo leaves for his bike. He takes from the trunk a bottle of wine and a couple of sandwiches, and few armored crystal glasses. These seems as thin and delicate as crystal glasses but are actually almost impossible to brake. "My girlfriend made these for me, I felt it was rude to be the only one that eats around here but I am starving. Guys, feel free to share my wine... it is a famous Italian brand from Tuscany, 20 years old." He starts pouring the wine to glasses. When he reach Vick he offer her some and ask.. "Try, If you can still enjoy it..."
After a toss he say. "We will be leaving soon, but we better eat and take meds and anything that Vick suggest before that,." To Vick "I'd be happier to continue with your sister. She cannot afford to go AWOL in the middle of a run... we won't say anything but fixers know a lot more than they are willing to admit. Call it perspective, but I think that we should continue to our next destination with Goodnight."
-
Al sighed with inward exasperation when he saw the new round of weapons distribution to the clueless family members. But he held his tongue. There'd been way too many arguments tearing this group apart already, and with a few things he absolutely wanted to keep some control of, he'd have to pick his battles.
He distracted himself by looking at the vampire girl's legs.
Yeah, he was a baaaaaad grandpa.
-
Isaint shrugged at Solo's words: "Bah, we live and learn. Give it time and it will probably come back."
Isaint did not miss Al's disapproving looks. He walked over, sat down beside him and offered him some of the Greek food. In a low voice he said: "Don't worry. The girl got the models with safe aiming. As long as you keep the RFID chip I'll give you they can't hurt anyone of us."
-
Al managed to eat the food Isaint offered without removing the cigarette from his mouth, and he managed to somehow answer the ork with his mouth full. "Well, that's some comfort, an' a good precaution ta be sure." He pocketed the chip. "Crazy time comes, though, you'll excuse ol' Al if he puts his trust in good sense an' the voodoo gods rather'n some high-tech bells an' whistles."
He shrugged. "What's done is done, an' I do trust yer judgment, sir."
Then he threw a smile over at Jackhammer. "That dog done got big as he is eatin' garbage, an' other critters what ate worse than garbage. Bitin' into him, purty much same as eatin' a damned devil rat."
-
Nitro gives a faint wry smile as he takes a seat, shaking his head. "Go' a few too ma'y dru's runnin aroun' me sys'em te be drin'in' righ' now. Than's fertha offe' 'ough." As he mentions the drugs a hand idly points up to the side of his head, although the cyberears are of a similar design to his old ones the higher quality is obvious to anyone who knows what to look for.
He frowns slightly, organizing his thoughts before he speaks again, his eyes looking over the disassembled pistol and sword before they finally look up at Goodnight again.
"Imma lay thin's ou', affer tha'... well ye do wa' ye go'a do. Tha nigh' inna el-cee-zee, was onna my firs' runs. Issalso jussabou' tha wors' run I e'er done. Ne'er 'are or since 'ave I los' so ma'y crew, as 'ell as failin' tha run isself. Ye sai' sommin' abou' a chip? Idunno an'in' abou' tha, all I kno' is summon hire' us te bring ye ou'a the el-cee-zee alive." he pauses, raking a hand through his hair, for once, it isn't lit up, the fiber optics dull and transparent. "I dunno who wanne' ye or why. Tru' is, I ain' ne'er as'ed, I ain' ne'er loo'ed. An' I ain' e'er loo'ed te se if ye survi'ed tha nigh' ei'er."
He leans back, about as relaxed as you've seen him. "Now, I ta'e one loo' a' ye an' I know ye're dan'erous, we bo' are. An' we bo' know tha e'erythin' hassa price... righ' now, Imma thin'in' tha' I owe a price wi' se'en years o' in'rest. The only ques'ion is, wassa paymen' gonna be?"
-
Goodnight's Doss
Goodnight leans back on the couch, examining the Spinrad augmentations Nitro is now sporting with the eye of a practiced professional. As a joygirl, she saw a lot of augs on the Vory shestrioka when they came through, and a lot more on other clients, and she knows enough to see that the new tech is a definite upgrade. As Nitro talks, Goodnight listens, and her face is impassive. She understands, she really does, and while she wants to hate him, that would be stupid and counterproductive. There's no point.
Goodnight gives him a moment when he winds down, her hands automatically putting the pistol back together without her even having to look at it. She loads it with ExEx and lays it aside, next to the thin cylinder of her monowhip and the long, sinister sheathed blade, and leans back once more. She folds her legs under herself and stares at Nitro, and after a few seconds says, "There's no price. Why would there be? You were hired to get the chip. I was just baggage, it was just biz." She shakes her head. "I won't lie. I wanted to kill you in the tunnels. If I'd gotten my hands on you, I probably would have, so thank Vicki when you see her next. But..." she shrugs her shoulders and gives a helpless little laugh. "Its not because you left me. Yes, I was a kid, but it was Lambeth. Worse happens all the time. No, it was because you made me remember being left. I was so scared..."
Goodnight sniffs and closes her eyes, fighting back tears. "If you really want to see what happened to me, I can show you the holo of the day I was brought out. But I won't press it on you." She says finally, her voice quavering. "I spent years getting over what happened to me. I know the team thinks I'm unstable, and they may be right, but that's because the alternative is turning back into Macha, the Laesa's tame killer. If I wear my heart on my sleeve, then I don't risk falling back into that...that coldness." She shudders delicately, then fixes Nitro with a Fuschia stare. "All I want from you is for you to trust that I'm not going to fly off the handle. If push comes to shove, I'll stay solid. I can't get Isaint or Al or the twit with MPD off my back, but you've seen me at home now, where I'm not a raging psychotic. Yes, I attacked you, and while it might have been justified I know it was also wrong. Yes, I hit Isaint, but I didn't hurt him and it ended the conversation, didn't it?" Her lips quirk in a smile. "Expediency wins sometimes. I'm not going to let The Doctor or his progeny come to any harm, Nitro."
*****************************************************************************
Nacht
Vicki sees Al staring out of the corner of her eye, and there's the devastating dimpled smile again as she casually crosses one leg over the other, staring at Solo. In a pleasant tone, she explains, "Fee didn't go AWOL. She suffered a psychotic episode due to prior physical and mental trauma, stemming from events that Nitro was present for and in which he played a major part. She can hardly be blamed for her reaction." Her smile turns cold. "And if you think that you would have done better after being a joygirl slave to a bunch of mobsters for your teenage years, then I know a good shrink where you can get your head examined."
She declines the offered glass. "Without the alcohol it just tastes like sour juice to me. Yes, I can taste. I can probably smell better than you can." She glances over and adds, "I can probably actually smell better than the dog can." She shrugs. "My mutations are subtler than my sister's but no less present." Her eyes flick back to Solo. "I'm not sixteen either, so you can drop the talking-to-children bit and treat me like an adult, please. Just because I won't go apeshit like my sister doesn't mean I like being talked down to any more than she does." She stands. "I'm probably more likely live another twenty years than you are. Yes, I have dietary requirements and certain groups are opposed to my existence, but that could be said of any of you as well, and my condition comes with certain gifts."
Turning to Isaint and Al, Victoria says, "I know we're in a hurry, but at this point I'm not sure a few hours would make much difference. Long Haul can keep them awake, but they're emotionally frayed and mentally exhausted. Let them finish eating and get a little sleep. That will give time for Draco to get back to me and for Goodnight to finish making preparations. You need her back anyway if you plan on getting anywhere down here, and she's currently also got Nitro. Besides, if we wait I can make sure the family has at least basic armor to go with those tasers."
-
Nitro nods at the comment, even though his eyes watch the pistol reassembly without blinking. He frowns slightly "Ye kee' men'ionin' a chip.. I kinna 'osne'ly say I dunno an'yin' abou' tha... it seeme' li'e ye thay was affer, an they weren' from tha el-zee-cee..." He spends a short time looking Goodnight over, there's nothing lecherous about it, more analyzing. "Ye kno' a nor'al elf are ye? I 'unno, jus' they seame' aweful anxious te ge' ye ba' in one pie'e. Tha mea's onna two thin's... i' was sommone tha care' abou' ye... or sommone tha' wanne' te stu'y ye."
He shakes his head with a sigh "Bu' tha's se'en years o wa'er unner tha bri'ge... a 'rail lon', lon' col'. As fer now, I kinna 'lame ye, hi' me li'e a truc' a' mo'erway speeds a'well. I'e spen' a lon', lon' ti'e tryin' te forge' tha nigh'. Assfer wha' ye do'e inna pas' an who ye 'ere... well li'e I sai', ever'in' hassa price."
He sits thinking for a moment then leans forward, a hand extended. "Now 'en, howsabou we ma'e sure we donna win' up lea'in' summone else inna same boa' eh?"
-
"I wouldn't want them needlessly to take drugs - even relatively harmless ones like Longhaul. The children have been through enough - no need to settle them with an addiction after all that stress. And you are right: It's always better to have a second offer on hand in negotiations. A few more hours here probably won't hurt.
Good work."
Isaint walked over to the small table and began to methodically clean his weapons. First came the rifle, than the two re-obtained tasers. Lastly he disassembled his Savalette Guardian and made sure it was in top working condition.
-
Nacht
Vicki sees Al staring out of the corner of her eye, and there's the devastating dimpled smile again as she casually crosses one leg over the other, staring at Solo. In a pleasant tone, she explains, "Fee didn't go AWOL. She suffered a psychotic episode due to prior physical and mental trauma, stemming from events that Nitro was present for and in which he played a major part. She can hardly be blamed for her reaction." Her smile turns cold. "And if you think that you would have done better after being a joygirl slave to a bunch of mobsters for your teenage years, then I know a good shrink where you can get your head examined."
She declines the offered glass. "Without the alcohol it just tastes like sour juice to me. Yes, I can taste. I can probably smell better than you can." She glances over and adds, "I can probably actually smell better than the dog can." She shrugs. "My mutations are subtler than my sister's but no less present." Her eyes flick back to Solo. "I'm not sixteen either, so you can drop the talking-to-children bit and treat me like an adult, please. Just because I won't go apeshit like my sister doesn't mean I like being talked down to any more than she does." She stands. "I'm probably more likely live another twenty years than you are. Yes, I have dietary requirements and certain groups are opposed to my existence, but that could be said of any of you as well, and my condition comes with certain gifts."
"Well Vicki, you are old enough to know that this world is not just, nor is it fair. It is not that I am completely sane either. I do not blame her for jumping Nitro nor for the part with ISaint, you do not need to defend her not from me. I lived to do worse in my life, I've been in dark places and I am not in a position to judge anyone. When I tell you that certain behaviors find very harsh consequences in our shadowy world, I am speaking from my own experience.
My path was not exactly easy... when I was born I was not even considered metahuman. I had no legal status and could not get a SIN. I was nothing more than a number, abused and experimented upon for the 'common good' and the 'security of the nation' "
You can feel the scorn in Solo's face when he say these words. He sighed.
"They were so secret about it It took me many years to even figure out who did these atrocities to me. The same people had 'rescued' me. Gained my trust and I was working for them for many years not knowing the truth. Can you imagine the horror when I found out what really happened? "
Solo look distanced for a little while, he feels nothing about these events. So many killings later made him look at himself as the villain of his own story. Killing himself was probably the right choice when he found out. The pain and suffering he inflicted in his psychotic outrage cannot possibly be justified. "Maybe some time I will kill myself... and my soul can get some rest" He thinks.
After a short while, he continues, softly without any shred of anger or judgement in his voice. If any he speaks from pain, personal pain.
Certain behaviors have consequences - and our world is not tolerant or forgiving for them, especially in the shadows. You and your sisters may think you are powerful, but actually you just work for powerful people. I am no different - none of us is.
The first years are the most difficult... Being seen as a Banshee , that as you well aware is not even considered human by law - by powerful cooperate suits is not exactly my choice of valor - but I will not stop you. You are old enough to make your own mistakes. It is also better for Fee not to drop mid run -even if you cover for her. No matter how justifiable the reasons are, it *will* look as if she went awol... and it will hurt her employ-ability. "
He sigh, and his serious face are now decorated with a soft smile.
"But enough about that... I am not the person to give carrier advises or to tell other people what to do and what not to do. Lets just share a glass of wine... if your senses are really as developed as you claim, you will enjoy it more then me... " He smiles pours her a glass of wine. "Cheers!" He say as he begins exploring his wine, smelling and then tasting it. Solo seems completely focused on every tiny bit of flavor and for a moment he forgets the awful surrounding and the violence of these recent days. He is in his peaceful place now.
-
Al sighed inwardly in relief as Isaint turned down the drugs on behalf of the family. What were some of these degenerates thinking, he wondered as he sucked on his cigarette.
He was less thrilled with the idea that waiting a few hours here was no big deal. People were greatly overestimating the momentary security they enjoyed simply by being here in Underdark Kingdom of Crazy.
But inertia was a bitch. The family, scarfing down food, were still groggy and would indeed probably crave sleep again once they'd chowed. The parents he might be able to keep moving, but the four of them as a group? And while a matrix meet with eTher might be something doable in fifteen minutes, they couldn't do jack without their psychotically combative and unpredictable guide to move them topside.
He sighed and resigned himself to their glacial pace and incessant diversions.
He tried congratulating himself about being so flexible, but had to admit it was more just a matter of being dead tired.
Tossing a few chunks of meat to Spike, he settled in and, with the patience of a hunter, waited for the vampire girl to shift her legs again.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~09:46, Nacht, London Below, London]
As the group settle in to wait for the family to recover and Goodnight and Nitro to return Solo’s watcher from the lobby sends a silent message
~master/mistress, there is an astral projection here, he says he wishes to speak with you…~
***
#42
-
Solo stands up, and say: "There is someone in the astral looking to visit me or maybe all of us... I am going to figure it out. Watch me with the drones and protect me if needed." Solo goes to the lobby still holding his glass of wine. "Here we are, who are we speaking to?".
-
Al stands up. He figures he ought to go for urgent but not alarmed with his voice, but alas he is really only capable of gravel on slate.
"Okey dokey, folks, jist in case this ain't as peaceful as it sounds, ever'one look alive." He knows his co-workers need no such injunction; it is the Pelletieres he is really speaking to. "Shoes on, grab whatever stuff ya got, be ready to move right now if need be."
He texts Nitro: <<Hopefully not code red, but we got some kinda unannounced visitor here. Will keep you posted. When you coming back?>>
-
Isaint grabbed his mask and said: "I'll accompany you." With a moment concentration Isaint activated his focus to perceive the Astral and went after Solo
-
Standing in the astral of the lobby is an imposing cloaked figure, eyes burning brightly from within the shadows of his hood. The voice when it speaks is like warm honey
"Good morning gentlemen, it has taken me a while to track you here. Interesting locale! We have much to discuss and I would prefer to do it somewhere less potentially public. Your suite perhaps so that you don't need to relay my words to your compatriots?"
-
"Sure, but first: Who the hell are you?"
Isaint said.
-
Solo texts Al >> Please keep the family out of sight - we are be taking him inside. (there is little we can do to stop that we do not have wards) I'll have my watchers circle him in case he tries anything stupid.
While doing so he mentally orders his watcher to assense the person, trying to see who or what he is. He smiles a shy smile, to defuse the tension... Solo understand that it could have been a lot more violent. That mage must have followed Vicki on her way in. With all these quickened spells she is impossible to miss. He thinks.
[spoiler]
assensing (http://orokos.com/roll/316464): 18d6t5 3
Bah... ;)
[/spoiler]
-
"Shiver me damned timbers," Al muttered.
Things were moving fast now - he switched his commlink/transceiver array to voice: the Fairlight's badass firewall would layer over the transceiver's encryption, and it would convert his voice to text for those who preferred AR messaging.
<<Roger roger. Make him follow yer meat up, give us a few ticks ta set up.>>
"Alrighty, y'all, we's gon' have a guest. Ever'thing's peaceful so far, but we's gon' put the Pelletieres inna suite here fer a bit, an' break ol' Al's rule about no closin' doors. Me an' Jackhammer gon' stay right by yer sides in there, an' Tobbis, now might be a good time fer active matrix overwatch, so you could come in too. Frenchie, hopin' you'll back Solo an' Isaint up out here."
Once Spike had followed the family into the room, he spoke to Victoria before shutting the door. "Apperciate all ya's done. Since this ain't percisely yer gig, you could take off now. Or yer welcome ta stay, but in fer a penny an' all that..."
-
"Sure, but first: Who the hell are you?"
"You may call me Jay. I represent the NDM* and you have something we want. Rather than resort to more violence it was decided to approach you directly to see if we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement..."
*New Druidic Movement - hermetic druids with ties to Her Majesty's Government and the Lord Protectors Office (disbanded I believe)
-
Seeing the message from Al, Isaint opted to engage in a bit of small talk:
"Ah, so you are those jokers with the ritual circle. You owe my colleague an apology for burning down his garage - and a new garage.
Although I do appreciate your appearing here to talk things out in a civilized fashion, you will surely understand that there will be certain security measures to ensure that those civilized talks are in fact happening.
You see, we aren't unreasonable. But we are no slave owners: The ultimate decision for a transfer lies with those affected by it.
So Jay, I ask you:
Will you abide by the laws of hospitality and stay true to your word?"
#142
-
So that guy already threat with further violence and the negotiations have not started. That meetup was no good, they stayed for too long in once place and were discovered. In fact there may be armed men already closing on the house. Solo's guts tell him that that man came to discuss surrender terms rather than an actual deal. After all, if he knows where they are why come alone, why not have a small army just in case negotiations fail.
Solo texts while ISaint speaks:
>>Al these are the ritual spirit people that burned your place. I'd assume they may have an ambush just in case we do not give them what they want.
When he finish he politely adds: "Words are better than cannons but are you here to deliver a message or to negotiate?"
-
Aaron smirks at Al's comment about Spike. "For all I know, this is devil rat." he says, holding up a skewer of spiced meat. He takes a bite and chews for a second, considering. "But it sure as hell isn't soy. Don't mind washing it down either." With that, Aaron grabbed two beers and popped the cap from one, not even swallowing his food before taking a few hard gulps.
Just as he finished his second beer, slumped against the wall and ready to fall asleep again, the messages came in. Aaron still had his 'link off, which he'd rather forgotten about by now, but Al was generous enough to inform everyone of the goings-on. Each second ticked by with a piece of gear being picked up or strapped back on: the helmet, the Taurus, the quiver, then the bow; Aaron moved quickly to get the family up and help them check their tasers and ensure they understand their operation. A few lustful glances are passed towards what food remains, and his eyes still feel heavy with sleep, but the adrenaline makes time slow down and loosens the fatigued muscles. "Stay behind me at all times. Everyone grab the person in front of you; Doc, keep your hand on my armor. I don't know how this magic stuff works, but I don't want anyone disappearing without our notice. And if Al blows the floor, we move for the hole. I'll go down first to make sure it's safe and to catch you."
-
Solo thinks "S5... try and see if you can spot magical threats around the building." Having his mind linked to that of his spirits let him send a watcher to search the vicinity of the building with nothing but a quick thought.
[spoiler]
Assensing (http://orokos.com/roll/316613): 18d6t5 4
[/spoiler]
-
Waiting with Jackhammer and the others in the suite, Al swapped clips - the threat was no longer feral ghouls in the catacombs. If anything came in here that could be hurt by bullets, it'd be armored.
Yeah, anything that could be hurt by bullets - he thought of the fight back at his place and there was that weird pair of glowing brass knuckles on his right hand again. The burning behind his right kidney told him whose gift those were.
He watched his camera feed facing down the stairs. Anyone he didn't like came up, he'd blow them to kingdom come, then usher the family across the lounge, blow the floor in the other room, and they'd try to stay a step ahead of any trap. He'd seen Jackhammer's work back at the shop - the guy knew how to handle protectees, and that'd help them stay moving smoothly.
Dammit dammit dammit - he knew they'd lollygagged too long.
Or maybe, just maybe, their visitor really was just here to talk.
Then he heard from Solo who the son of a bitch was.
<<Well then I'll assume you's disextendin' yer invite up here to the damned room...>> he hissed into his lapel mic.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~09:46, Nacht, London Below, London]
"Words are better than cannons but are you here to deliver a message or to negotiate?"
Solo senses from the tone that Jay is smiling, although it is impossible to tell within the ghostly confines of his hood
“Negotiate perhaps, proposition maybe? After all, you are the ones in possession of the items we are seeking… I do not want to say more out here…who knows who else might be listening in?”
At the same time Solo’s watcher circumnavigating the hotel, or at least the areas it can reach that aren’t solid bedrock, reports that there is an adept’s signature who appears to be watching the hotel, dwarven, otherwise there don’t seem to be any magical threats in the vicinity…
***
#45
-
“Negotiate perhaps, proposition maybe? After all, you are the ones in possession of the items we are seeking… I do not want to say more out here…who knows who else might be listening in?”
"Very well, but I ask you a second time: Will you abide by the ancient laws of hospitality? We might not be able to share bread and salt, but I want your assurance that you enter our abode in good faith and that you will not engage in violence or treachery against us or our charges while you are our guest."
countered Isaint.
-
"ancient hospitality? this is a freaking ambush. We just took the family in terrain we do not understand and a guide that is too distracted by her emotions to function... and it is difficult to thinks straight when she is around. Even ISaint sort of forgave her for almost striking him, would he if she was less Gorgeous?" thinks Solo, he tries to shake Goodnight's image from his mind. ISaint seems to enjoy talking the talk, Solo has his toys to worry about. With a mental command he texts.
@Everyone (including Nitro, Vicky and Goodnight)- there is an adept outside that seem to be watching us. Nitro, I assume you can do this stuff better than me - can you bring a stealthy eye? Seeing from the astral may miss stuff that is visible from the meat plane.
Should Nitro fail to respond within a few seconds Solo will order two of his flying eyes to investigate, they should be able to see meat space more clearly.
"So Goodnight is distracting?"
"uncomfortably sexy, yes... but this is a bad timing M."
"Think at how it feels for her to look like that? To be desired but as a prize, not in a good way.v She may not be a joygirl anymore - but she still aims to please and to prove her worth."
"So is her sister... but I am not sure this is the right time for this chat."
"But it is, she can be here in a blink of an eye. She is the most charismatic of all of you... you yourself admitted, she is the only one that can look cute with a monowhip ready to use."
"That astral travel, you think she can do it? I never figured it out."
"I bet she can"
>> Goodnight - can you get your astral ass in here? M said that you can look cute even when you have a mono-whip ready to use in your fingertip. If it is a negotiation we'll need your dazzling personality with us. If it is an ambush, we'll definitely need you and Nitro - and luckily you both can help from distance.
-
While Isaint waited for a reply from Jay, he gave a quick response to Solo:
<<Noted, Thanks. By the way don't be fooled by my talk, I'm just stalling. But if he is indeed believing in that neo-druid business, he might also be susceptible to the Celtic traditions of hospitality and show his cards early. Remember - everything someone tells you about himself can be used as a weapon.>>
#144
-
Solo texts back >>ISaint, I think we can let the druid in. Our floor is the most secure location, any place else we'll have to split our security between the locations.
-
Aaron finishes getting his gear together, checking the ammo in his Taurus to confirm the explosive rounds are chambered. He channels his inner strength to his tiger tattoo and feels the flow of blood and energy within his body. As he begins to feel alert and even on edge from the adrenaline, he flexes and looks around for something to do. His aggression presses outward as his eyes dart around and his breathing picks up. But as the action hasn't started yet, he takes out his building intensity on the only thing nearby; food. He grabs a fist full of meaty leftovers and begins violently shoving it in his tusked mouth. "Are they coming up?" He says after swallowing a large bite. "Let's do this."
[spoiler]29 posts[/spoiler]
-
At that moment Isaint caught the eye of the man on the front desk. He was looking at him and waving a small package.
He replied: <<Sure, it's not like we can stop him walking through walls without attacking him. Lead the way, I just need to collect something from the reception desk. And it's a great timing too.>>
-
"Very well, but I ask you a second time: Will you abide by the ancient laws of hospitality? We might not be able to share bread and salt, but I want your assurance that you enter our abode in good faith and that you will not engage in violence or treachery against us or our charges while you are our guest."
"Ancient laws of hospitality? You seem to have me confused with those poor deluded Celtic druids...and even so, this is not your hall, your are guests here yourselves are you not? That said, if it makes you feel better, you have my word that while we are negotiating I will not harm you or yours..."
***
The dwarf outside if fairly nondescript, squatting across the tunnel from Nacht smoking. Either his calm unphased pose, or perhaps the vicious looking hooked sword by his side, keeps the other denizens of the underworld from approaching him...
-
"Sure... follow me in... so you are not some kind of druid ? "
-
"I am NDM, we are true hermetic druids..."
-
"Do you write your own poetry then?" Asks Solo.
-
"Good enough I guess."
Isaint waited a second while Solo led the apparition up the stairs and walked over to the reception.
"Ihr Paket ist angekommen. Um genau zu sein, es sind drei Stück."
"Exzellent. Danke" replied Isaint. With a nod, he gathered up the three parcels and hurried after the two.
It was a bit awkward, balancing the heavy boxes while climbing the stairs. But he could feel the power that radiated from the smallest box. It had taken months to get this done and he had been not to keen to leave the artisan with a vial of his blood. But it must have been worth it, seeing how eager the focus was to finalize its bond with him.
While he climbed the stairs, he deactivated the assensing focus. With his AR vision up again, he noticed a small RFID Icon on the parcel that contained a private message for him:
<<I did the best I could within the short amount of time you gave me, but the armor will take a bit more time. You should receive it together with the drone once you reach the surface. Good luck.>>
Well, that's better than expected actually. The cestus is what I need the most right now.
#146
-
Goodnight's Kip
Goodnight smiles at Nitro. His easygoing manner and rueful acceptance of the situation remind her of Vicki, or dear, departed Bianca, and she's glad that he doesn't blame her for losing her drek in the tunnels. She's ashamed of that outburst but he doesn't seem to want an apology, so she decides to spare them both the awkwardness. Instead she nods and replies, "Thank you, Nitro. Its nice to be remembered, even if under less than ideal circumstances." She shrugs one shoulder artlessly and stands in a graceful motion. "You're absolutely right about the others. Give me a minute to get my dancing shoes on and we'll get this show on the road."
Goodnight disappears into the next room, taking both sword and pistol with her. As she leaves, the pastel-toned woman with the green hair reappears. She smiles a small smile at Nitro and gathers up everything Goodnight had left behind, humming a sprightly little tune under her breath. As she runs her hand over the wood of the table, sweeping up bits of vizzy cloth and various small detritus, Nitro can see that the wood grain has changed in the wake of her casual touch, and its color has altered subtly. When she sweeps everything off the tabletop into her free hand, a half-dozen spray roses, little blots of color, blossom out of the side of the coffee table, only to be broken off and tucked into her hair, where they sprout leaves and vines and other little blooms, becoming a chain of red and yellow in the waterfall of green. She takes one such rose from her hair and holds it in front of her, looking at it idly, and after a moment it darkens to a midnight blue. A single curling thorn grows from its back, turning it into a sort of buttoneer and Flower offers it to Nitro with another quick smile.
Goodnight re-enters the room only a couple of minutes after she'd left, just as Flower is handing the rose across. Her secondskin is back in place, but now it's augmented by heavier boots and a long leather jacket, a Vashon Aces number in black to match her hair and catsuit, with a royal purple silk scarf tied in an artfully messy fashion around her slender throat. Purple-tinted mirrorshades cover her eyes, and there's a pistol under her right arm. Her mageblade sits on her left hip, and there's a long knife in one boot. The closeness of the SecondSkin and the fine tailoring of the outfit make her glamorous and sleek and sexy still, but now its the beauty of an elegant weapon rather than a showpiece. She turns to kiss flower on the cheek, and Nitro can see "Дар Ворона" picked out in silver on the back of the jacket, and the silver heels of her boots click on the hard floor as she turns around and asks, "How do I l-"
She and Nitro get the message at the same time and she freezes, then looks at Nitro to see if he got it too. "Want to do this remotely like he says?" She asks tensely. "I have a spirit that can speed us on our way if you'd rather get physical."
Nacht
Victoria's magic doesn't allow her to see the astral, but to a Banshee, astral space is just another sort of hunting ground and her infection makes it as natural to her as the mundane world. She sees the druid easily enough, and she knows that he has to see her, with her infection and quickenings and her own considerable power. She doesn't bother trying to mask or hide, instead letting her power blaze true even as she moves to cover the family and Aaron, ready to summon spirits and hurl deaths mystical and material the second things start to go south.
-
Reaching the lounge, Isaint saw that Al, Spike and the family were securely out of sight, while the rest of the team had arrayed themselves between the doors and the manifested druid.
He put down the two large parcels and casually opened the small box while he spoke to the emissary:
"So, that's as private as it gets. What is it that you and your ritual caster assassin buddies have to offer - besides the obvious threats about your power and influence?"
-
At the top of the stairs, the cloaked figure waited for Solo to open the door and lead the way into the lounge.
Only those viewing the astral realm saw Victoria's powerful spirit yield the entrance at a nod from the banshee.
The incorporeal visitor strode to the center of the room, his robes seemingly brushing the floor with his silent passage.
The arrangement of those waiting in the room seemed to tell the whole story, but he slowly spun a full circle before resting his gaze on the door of the suite that hid the family.
And then the glowing eyes turned to Isaint.
"Oh, we have much to offer. But first, may I see him, please?"
-
Solo takes a sit and enjoys his wine. "Welcome again, guys this is Jay, he represents the NDM some druid movement that is close to the government but not formally affiliated. Jay guaranteed us that he will behave during the meeting, and we are expected to do the same. So please lets try not to add to the body count of this run. "
To Jay: "I assume that you already know who your organization tried to killed, in case you don't I am called Solo... I'll let the rest decide if they care to introduce themselves. Us runners are sometimes a bit edgy - but it keeps us alive." He raise his glass and look Jay in the eyes, "Cheers!" he says.
Solo know a thing or two about psychology, he is as nervous as the other person in that room, but peace of mind radiates strength, and Solo wants to negotiate from a place of power.
About Seeing the asset, "No you may not. Not before we have a deal."
-
The one that called himself Jay momentarily bowed his head.
In greeting? Or in resignation at the way this was apparently going to play out?
He then lowered his form so that it, also, appeared to sit in one of the armchairs, selecting one facing the door to the suite.
"May I ask, then, is he still with his family?...That would be preferable, of course."
-
Aaron stood behind the door and listened. Clearly the visitor had arrived, though footsteps seemed to be missing. Probably just an elf in slippers.
He herded the family away from the door to make sure that, should anything happen, there would be no clear line of fire to the family. He then positioned himself halfway between the door and the family, flexing his hands subconsciously and causing a few audible *crack*s each time.
-
On his camera feed, Al had watched Isaint and Solo return. It was evident from their body language that they were with someone they could see...but that Tobbis's camera couldn't. The assholes had sent someone ahead doing that ghostwalk thing, he reckoned.
Well, ghosts couldn't do much harm, especially not to those that were right before the Lord.
The question was, how many non-ghosts was he bird-dogging for?
He could just hear that a conversation had started outside in the lounge.
Couldn't make out the words, but he trusted the men out there.
All he could do now was wait.
-
"Yeah, you may ask. They are - no thanks to you and your pyromaniac lackey.
So what's you interest in a harmless mathematician? Surely you Neo-Druids don't suffer from any epidemics, don't you?"
Isaint had removed the contents of the box: Wrapped in some kind of silk scarf was a leather glove decorated with small metal scales. Every last one was embossed with a small crucifix. Isaint removed his regular glove and slid his hand into the cestus, flexing his fingers slightly. In the Astral a strong aura became visible.
-
The robed figure did not answer immediately, but watched as Isaint donned the glove. He gazed at the item for several long seconds. His face remained masked, but his body language made clear his distaste.
"The world is facing an epidemic, my friend," the last word pronounced with more vinegar than honey. "And the efforts to combat the growing plague have been uncoordinated, indeed mercenary, to the point of farce. We are forming a network of organizations that realize the weight of this threat, and are committed to putting its efficient destruction before short-term and short-sighted interests. Naturally this mathematician can be a useful resource in this work of..." and he glanced again at the glove, ",..salvation."
He gazed again around the assemblage of runners within his view. "That is our interest in him. But what, pray tell, is yours? Our observations suggest you are operating without a rudder, no one at the helm. It is clear you have somehow lost contact with your initial employer. Am I now safe in assuming you are, at this point, free agents." With the last words, there was a distinct sense of him licking his lips.
-
Nitro watches the strange figure walking around the room, his enhanced eyes picking out much of what she does, but looking directly at her is slightly disconcerting. Although taken physical form, she is an entity of pure magic, and Nitro has been using digital vision for so long he's basically forgotten what it's like to look with normal eyes, and here was something that defeated his augmented senses. He could see her of course, she had taken physical form, light hit this, refracted off in a predictable colour spectrum and was picked up the the cameras of his eyes. But he couldn't suppress a feeling that the digital image he was seeing was only a shadow, he could see nothing really special but watching how the room changed, he knew that this figure was.
It was then that Goodnight re-entered, and here was something his eyes could understand. His eyes travel up and down the outfit and smiles, it's not a charming or lecherous smile, it's a smile of one dangerous professional recognizing another and getting ready to do what they do best. His hair, coat and eyes flicker a little as he engages their systems, but this time it's different a cold, distant star-field.
Then two things happened, the strange, unsettling figure handed him the thorned flower, and the message came through from the rest of the team. The smile broadened and became a little more dangerous as he takes the flower and tucks it into his armor where it can be seen. "I rea'on we ge' 'ere pe'sonally. Tha 'trix is s'ill spo'y an' i' aina gonna ta'e much jammin te ma'e i' impossi'le fer me te connec' te anythin. So 'ell me summin, sin's ye kno' 'his pla'e so well." He suddenly leans back to raise a leg, drawing attention to perhaps his most unusual enhancement, his chrome cyberfeet, there's no sign that anything higher is replaced. He suddenly grins and a cyber-skate extends from the base of the foot "'ow fla' an' le'el issa groun' tween 'ere an' tha' 'otel?"
Not yet waiting for an answer he retracts the skate and stands, picking up the milspec shotgun and detaching the drum, another red marked one taking its place. He shrugs the starry coat back into place and checks the sawnoff is still in the modified holster. This done he gives the figure a graceful bow and Goodnight a small nod of readiness.
-
"Did ISaint just gave a ritual mage information for free?" Solo did not like at all where this is going for. A thought of great darkness surfaced his mind "Should I kill that mage if things do not work out? " It made sense to Solo, he tried to kill them and he was just told that the asset was with the family, but he did not ask about the family only about the asset he used singular clearly they weren't of interest. Why would the man care about the family? Do they have a material link of the family for some dark ritual? did they lost connection to one of the family members they used as a willing or not agent?
"You do not get to ask questions, we already told you too much. Our employment status is none of the NDM business. If you are going to keep asking us questions my watchers will kindly ask you to leave." He knew about Art, Solo figured they were connected to Arts fate, no they are not feeding NDM information about them this meet was a mistake. They should have let him speak to a watcher in a remote location.
-
Goodnight's Doss
Goodnight grins. "It was a subway tunnel. As long as your balance is good, its as flat as you could possibly need." She performs a quick once-over to make sure all of her killing devices are in their proper place, draws her pistol in a smooth motion and checks the magazine, racking the slide and nodding, satisfied. Then she is gone, out the door at a dead run. She's not as fast as Victoria, but beyond a certain point such differences are academic, and at her speed she's only just this side of street legal in most of Seattle. She trusts Nitro to keep up, and as she runs she fires off a quick message to Isaint.
<<Nitro and I are en route, less than a minute, tops. Talk to me, loverboy. What am I looking at and how would you prefer I approach? Chill? Sweet? Shock and fragging awe?>>
Nacht
Vicki keeps an ear open, listening to the conversation in the lounge, and she moves so that she has a clear shot at the door, and thus the lounge. For a moment she considers trying a shot at the Druid, but she refrains. Then a wicked idea occurs to her, and she grins and reaches for her little satchel, withdrawing a half-dozen little reagents. There's what looks like a small brass lipstick cylinder, the "lipstick" actually candle tallow dyed with carnelian roses. A small square of silk with a slightly-smeared lip print (in blood, natch) goes down opposite it, and four more objects follow: a silver ring bearing a celtic knot, a black silk satchet bearing an ounce of soil from County Cork, a ribbon made of fine threads that bears the opening lines of The Portrait of Dorian Grey in platinum, and a small silver coin embossed with a snowflake on one side and a treble clef on the other. The six objects go down in a circle, forming a hexagram, and Vicki sends a message to Al, trusting his judgment despite herself, for his concern about the family is plain to see.
<<Hey Grandpa, I don't like this. Yon hippy out there gives me the creeping heebies and I'm a banshee. He says he's celtic, I say he wouldn't know ireland if it bit him on the hoop. I've got the ritual laid out to summon a celtic spirit and we can see if he twigs to her, but I need you to make sure he doesn't open the door and tumble to what I'm doing before she's here and squared away. Think of it as hiring really specialized muscle in case things go to smash, if that helps.>>
-
Isaint received the message and replied, pointedly ignoring the new handle she had given him.
<<There's a neo-druid from the government trying to gouge us for information. At the moment he is asking for info he already has to see if he can trust our other answers. I'd prefer a calm appearance - as far as I can assess him, he is a Brit. So he'll probably respond more to subtle banter and backhanded threats.>>
To their guest he said:
"Yeah, we are aware of that. But I have a hard time picturing you cooperating with anybody - you guys seem more the dominating and scheming type. If I had to guess, I'd say you don't have a laboratory ready to look for a cure. But you have leverage to force others to divulge information to you. The Doc would be just another bargaining chip, wouldn't he?"
He had fixed the glove with a small strap. Now he was removing the shock glove from his other hand and bit down hard on the soft flesh between his thumb and his index finger so that a small bead of blood appeared.
-
Al received the text from the freak in the miniskirt. Well, he thought, devil-worshippers gonna devil-worship. Not like her soul could be any more damned than it already was. And he was more than happy to keep the damned door shut.
He gave her a nod. Unless things went crazy anyway, neither he nor their companions outside had any intention of opening it.
Out the lounge, the hooded figure shifted his gaze between Solo and Isaint. And chuckled, as one would at the antics of an impertinent child. "Clearly you're not going to believe the answers I give you, and in my current form I have no way to be convincing. So in order to speed things along, I will assume the character that you assume of me. So let us premise that I am a diabolical fiend bent only on world domination, and hopeful that in addition to using the Pelletieres I can also find a way to torture and humiliate them...just for fun. Now, on that basis, I would invite you to turn the four of them over to my agents as immediately as is practicable. In exchange, not only will my organization cease to hunt you, but we will publicize our acquisition of the asset, so that Saeder-Krupp and NeoNet and the rest also lose interest in you."
He paused, and then, as though it was an afterthought, he added, "And just as a sort of bonus, we can offer you a nuyen compensation in the six-digit range. I am sure that professionals of your caliber can come up with a scheme ensuring that both sides keep their end of the deal. Now, how many are you, so that I can come up with the number I should put in front of the five zeroes?"
-
"Oh no, I don't think you torture for fun. Cutting the Summer King's throat from behind is more your style, isn't it.
And for your information, you would have to prepare 32 paychecks."
[spoiler]
Fast talk:
(Con+Charisma) Fast Talk (http://orokos.com/roll/317180): 11d6t5 3 [11d6t5=5, 1, 6, 2, 2, 4, 2, 3, 2, 6, 3]
I assume any negative dice pool modifiers are compensated by Isaint's street cred
[/spoiler]
"I don't say your offer isn't intriguing, but... Well, as I said, this is no slave market. Wait a second."
<<Al, are you getting all this? These jokers say they are willing to spend over a million to get their hands on the doc. Be so kind and relay that to him and ask him if he'd be interested in their bargain or what he'd like to know about them as potential employers.>>
Isaint forged ahead: "So, besides our compensation, what would you have to offer him and his family?"
While he said that, he begann to put a single drop of blood into each of the crosses over the knuckles of glove.
#150
-
"First of all, once we sell SK and NeoNet will lose interest in us so will NDM so do not promess us what we already have. 100,000 a piece is a nice offer - but I still get the feeling that you came here fishing for information rather than negotiating. No offense, but we are not sealing the deal for this kind of money - to runners our level it is casual money nothing life changing.
You guys are hermetics... get creative with what you offer because your pockets are clearly not deep enough."
-
As soon as Goodnight was out the door he followed, as a measure of respect he waited until he was off the wooden floors before deploying the skates while still at a run. The skates gave him an edge, but he was more used to moving fast on wheels than on foot. All he could do was keep moving and try to keep up... something that he rapidly started to fail at. Fragging hell she is FAST! I think she could outrun my old Americar.
-
<<I ain't gittin' shit in here 'ceptin' fer you an' Solo. Transceivers don't pick up no ghosts. But I'll tell the Doc, an' you all decide if yer friend in there can be trusted.>>
Shotgun in hand, he stepped over to where the family sat tensely on the edge of a king-size bed. "They's still talkin', but deal onna table so far is a big fat paycheck an' some sorta Neo-Druids."
The mere mention of the organization making the offer drained the faces of Doctor and Mrs. Pelletiere. The Doc swallowed, and spoke, his tone almost pleading. "Listen, Al, I know this is all extremely dangerous for you and your friends. And we appreciate all you're doing so very much. And the longer this goes on, the more my own family is at risk. But for...for their sake, and probably yours, do not send us into their clutches."
Outside in the lounge, the apparition chuckled. "I assume you refer to some sort of support network? It would not surprise me, you are obviously top-tier professionals. I'll also assume you are inflating the number and expand my offer to one-point-six. Which ups it from six to seven digits I believe. As for the family, the offer is to you, not them. Remember, you've decided I'm a diabolical slave-master beyond human feeling - you've already decided to disbelieve anything I might tell you regarding the fate of the doctor and his family."
And then Al was back in the team's ears. "Doc here pretty much reckons he'd rather keep his family inna firin' line than put them at the mercy of whatever sumbitch ya got out there. He says no deal in all caps.>>
The visitor turned to Solo. "What you know of S-K wouldn't fill a thimble. But if our pockets are not deep enough for you, perhaps they are for your friends. In any case, you are stalling - if it is magical favors you are after, there is litle you cannot buy for your sale of a million-and-a-half nuyen."
-
It was this moment, that the crosses flared up with white fire, making the scales glow for a second in a pretty cherry red.
Isaint grinned apologetic: "I'm sorry, new toy, you know?
Us trusting you is not the issue here. It's the doc you have to convince. Even if you'd offer us the world - I wouldn't give him to you without his consent.
So you better come up with your plans for them if you have any interest in the success of your visit here."
-
Solo's face remain silent "Now you are talking sense... I prefer to be paid with information and access to information but my desires are not everything. The thing is - you are in the astral and there is no way to record any sort of agreement. You seem to be tossing money around this clearly is important for you. I need evidence that you can pay what you claim and a digital recording to say that the offer was made.
You can write it off as a business offer to Digital Surveillance and Security LTD. The company was actually registered in Ireland, it is still a tax refuge even under the new name. Once they have a standing offer for security services with the amount you suggested as a fine for breaking the agreement. We can continue... but before that - you can offer us rainbows and unicorns talking in the astral is cheap.
Now go get it approved and extend a formal offer to the company in question. We will discuss our options once we are sure that the offer is real. We have further security issues to deal with, and cannot attend for long negotiations. You came for us, make us an offer by our own terms.
So far the NDM only showed that it is willing to toss perhaps 10k in reagents and some talent that it is cheap for an organization of mages to access... what were your spirits planning to do with the family I honestly do not know. This is not my job to find out, and despite some ideals about my team mates - when the money is real it can move mountains. There is just no evidence that the goods are worth that much for you guys... if you were representing SK I'd believe you."
He texts ISaint mentally >>> you expose too much. Be corrupted let them make an offer. They shouldn't know our true motivations. Even if we do not take it, it will make it easier to negotiate further offers.
-
Goodnight doesn't slow her breakneck pace until she's almost to the suite of rooms at Nacht. She crashes to a graceful halt, makes sure her hair and clothing is all set in place and that her collar, blade, and the writing on her coat are clearly visible, then swaggers into the room with a cocksure half-smile. She looks for Victoria, then at Isaint and Solo, and finally at the apparition before them.*
She does not appear impressed.
Her own masking is hardly complete, but it mutes the edges of Goodnight's blazing power normally. Now she drops it and lets Macha, The Raven's Gift show through completely. There's no threat in the display of power; her foci remain dormant and her spirits uncalled, but it is clear to any and all that she is not going to take anybody's drek, not today. She tilts her head slightly, her glasses sliding down her nose on cue to reveal fushia eyes filled with a mixture of appreciation, irritation, and curiosity, and stands with a hip cocked and a knee slightly bent, setting off her slender legs against the swirling form of her coat and the angles of her weapons before she lets her lips curl up into a slow smile.
"I see you've met the country cousin." Goodnight tells the druid with a jerk of her head at Isaint and his still-cooling glove. "Don't mind him. Sometimes, down here, what you need is a dog, and he's as good as a mastiff." The tip of her tongue teases one lip. "And he's considerably easier to feed." Her eyes flick to Solo, then back at the druid. "As for the other, you'll have to forgive him. He has this thing about being all business, like he's in a boardroom rather than a battlefield. More clerk than Cúchulainn, I'm afraid."
Goodnight shrugs one shoulder as if to apologize for slumming with the company she does, timing it with a sway of her hips and a heavy breath to cause all the various lines of her body to stand out for a moment as she advances into the room. Crossing to the bar and turning, she leans against the old wood and brass and drapes her arms out to either side. "So, Oak-Knower," she begins, using the translation for the Celtic word for druid, "you've made an offer, you've made a threat, and you've made a joke. So why don't we speak like civilized people and you can tell us why you actually expect these fine gentlemen to entertain your offer. You'll need this team's goodwill to take him, after all, and words are both cheaper and easier on the real estate than another squad of spirits." She pushes her glasses back up with one finger and adds, "And perhaps why you need his family as well? The Doctor is valuable, yes, and perhaps his wife as well, but I thought that the New Order got out of the virgin-sacrificing bit a long time ago."
Behind her purple shades, she's typing again, just a fast message to Solo and Isaint. <<Sorry about the casual insults, but its easier to talk if he thinks I'm a fringe element rather than a part of your team.>>
-
Isaint replied: <<I'm not telling him anything he doesn't know already. When we were betrayed they also got data on us.
I have a certain reputation - no-one would belief that I'd be willing to participate in slavery.
Also, don't push to hard or he'll notice that we have no intention to close a bargain.>>
To Goodnight he wrote: <<De nada, just don't pulverize him before he spills the beans.>>
To Jay he said: "If I may introduce: This is our local guide and one of the reasons you should not assume that you know exactly how many people are working in and with this team or what we are capable of if you piss us off."
-
Nitro was just glad he'd been given directions as Goodnight continues to outpace him steadily. Realizing trying to match her pace would exhaust him he slows down slightly arriving as Goodnight is striding through the front door. Settling just around the corner he brings up his RCC's imagelink and start reprogramming, a Virtual machine is setup while a scrubbing program deals with some of the ever-present static, a Clearsight program as well as Maneuvering and Stealth protocols for his Fly-Spys. This done her straightens his arm, three of the mini-drones crawling out from under his coat and flying out to scope the surrounding area, not his full net, but he hoped enough as he tries to keep tabs on them with all his noise reduction.
This done he sub-vocals into the transceiver built into his armor, sending it to the rest of the team. "Nitro 'ere. I'm jussaroun' tha cour'er, sen'in' ou' a few flys te scou' tha area, ho'fully no o'er sur'rises"
-
Solo's eyes widen when he sees Goodnight. Her sense of fashion seems undisturbed by the insane speed she was travelling. Her body is now covered with tattoos, probobly fake from her second skin. She talks a bit differently and feel different, colder stronger maybe - clearly more aggressive. She seems familiar to Solo - at least he thinks that he heard about someone of that caliber before. A scary monster, the stuff that horror stories are made off. Solo is impressed how running in car speed, stumbling hotel patrons that jump aside to make way for her, and all the hardship of the road did not even dent her hair style. He thought he saw some old trid about a guy that had a perfect hair despite flying at super sonic speeds, but it was 40 maybe 50 years ago.
He smiles his big smile at her completely unaffected by her insult. "Meet Goodnight, the most beautiful and emotional of us all... She clearly hasn't been into many cooperate broad rooms if she think that what happens in there is different than a battle." He smiles.
To Goodnight "Would you like some red wine? or a glass of water? powerful magic also works while sitting down. " he nods and smiles at her, despite everything he is happy to see her.
To the druid he say " Well you just witnessed the most interesting thing about our group, we are many super stars, but each take to a different direction. Do not mind my idealist friend in here... most of our souls are as dark as they get... we'll obviously need some time to discus your offer but I am certain that the millions you are going to invest in this purchase will get you what you want, despite some of our idealists begging the difference. I will need concrete evidence and an hour or so in order to advocate your offer... "
In the text he answer her >> There is really nothing you can do to make me angry... except calling my growler a fucking bike. This is one of the things that scares me about you. .
-
Isaint didn't protest, but sent a text to Solo: <<What plan do you have? You just relieved him of the obligation to tell us what he plans to do with the family?>>
His face remained impassive even though Goodnight had just revealed her Masha persona. It hadn't come as to big a surprise with all the other stuff he had learned about and from her. But he really, really needed to have a talk with Torrent.
-
Texting back >> My plan is to get an offer - I do not care what he does to the family because we are not going to accept the offer, not unless there is no other choice. I might have accepted it working alone, but I do not feel that strong about it one way or the other. I respect you and Al and kind of like this family. So as long as there is an offer they do like, I am all game for having this offer as last resort.
I just want him to give us some time to discuss it and hopefully deal with that adept that is watching the hotel, and improve our position. Hopefully it will take him a while to get a real offer approved, and being a brilliant decker, I think eTher will know about him extending that offer. She will be more generous.
Guessing from the kind of money they have, I think they'll resell the family to SK. I trust the doc when he say he'd rather be left alone in here than be handed over to them.
-
<<Fair enough, but getting more info would have been nice all the same. Lies always reveal a bit of truth.
But what's done is done. So, let's get him out of here - politely.
Also about that adept:
Nitro from Isaint: You could make your drones and yourself useful by spotting and detaining a spy: We have intel that an adept is watching the premise. It might be a good idea to bug him or if that can't be done to bag him.>>
Isaint replied.
#154
-
>> Yes, you are correct sorry about that. I figured from the emphasis that the offer is to us and not to them that there is no possible way to sell their offer to the family - and NDM knows that. Perhaps we could have learned how well he lies. By the way - I am still not sure it is a real offer - he seem to be fishing us for information offering us unicorns in the astral.
They only invested like 10k nuyen in stopping us so far - so this is no real commitment. This is why I think they are sort of trying to play middleman. SK invested so much money to have the doc killed I bet they'd pay over a million. They are the only party I believe is interested enough to extend this kind of money.
-
The message flickers over Nitro's Image Link, a soft grunt coming over the subvocal. "If I ca' spo' 'im' I'll 'avva drone de'ecated to 'im, bu' thassabou' tha bes' I kin do... sho'guns ain' tha quie'est way te dri'e summon off, or sennem te slee'."
He looks through the feeds, not holding out much hope, but then through the feeds he spot an open patch, a drone hovering near the ceiling getting a clear view of someone watching the front door, and everyone giving him a wide berth. The target located he lands a drone in a shadowy spot that gives it a line of sight.
"Alrigh'... I foun' 'im, no' har' he ain tryin' 'ard te hi'e himself, I'll kee' an eye onnim an le'ya know if 'e ma'es a move."
[spoiler]A roll for the Fly-Spy to avoid detection.
Pilot 3 + Autosoft 6
Fly-Spy Stealth check (http://orokos.com/roll/317196): 9d6t5 3 hits
Not great... but then Minidrones are rather hard to spot to begin with, and being a Fly-Spy it may just be mistaken for a bug in the shadows.[/spoiler]
-
Inside the suite, Al watched as Victoria prepared her magical ritual, and listened as Goodbye made her grand entrance.
What he could not hear were the words of their spectral visitor. "Very well. I shall contact you in this place in one hour from now, by which time you shall not find any such binding offer made to your shell company, but you will find there a business enquiry backed by the agreed sum in a perishable escrow account, released by a registered third-party at Zurich Gemainschaft subject to acceptance of personnel placement services outlined within a designated timeframe. Terms of employment for said personnel will also be detailed therein. I sincerely hope that by that time you shall be prepared to discuss details of how we shall complete this transaction."
And with that, the apparition rose, and headed for the door.
-
Solo sent the okay for the family shortly after their visitor left. Once they get settled he say, "We talked in the astral with a representative of NDM, he say they can have money ready within an hour with a proof of seriousness. I am almost certain NeoNet and SK are monitoring their competition... so word will be out that money begins to move...But before we move... that adept must be neutralized. Anyone got an idea of how to do so quietly without a trace? "
He looks for Vicki to suggest a plan, but then spots the spirit - "Do you gals also do nonlethal mag..." He jumps in surprise "What? How? who is this ginger lady over there..."
Seeing how the look on the sprit's face was just as confused as his own, she just arrived and still tried to figure out where she was Solo apologized: "I did not mean to be rude, we are all so tensed and you seem... completely human at first glance... I am Solo - nice to meet you."
Solo thinks to himself "If I could just summon ginger ladies I'd never go on dates..."
You pig! said M.
"It was a private thought but you already know I have this weakness do not judge me..." Thought Solo.
-
Doctor Pelletiere and his wife paled with panic - and utter confusion - at Solo's speech.
Al put a hand on the doctor's shoulder, and said to Solo, "They ain't linked into our comms." Turning to the doctor, he said, "What Solo here means about money is jist that we lettin' 'im move some cred around, up what a more, um, acceptable buyer, will pay - both to you an' ta us'n."
Al lit a cigarette. He was so very very happy to have one to light.
"Three things." He ticked them off on burn-mottled fingers. Index finger: "Feller outside's worth a helluva lot more to us alive than dead." Middle finger: "We gotta move now. No more lollygaggin' fer any reason. At least two parties knows we's here. You jist say where, Goodbye baby, an' we won't argue, long as it puts us near the surface an' keeps us in contact with the matrix, because..." Ring finger: "We go live with Dragon Lady in fifteen at a place inna matrix of y'all techheads choosin'. If we gotta be movin' at that moment, all the better - no need fer full VR onna first date."
-
Doctor Pelletiere and his wife paled with panic - and utter confusion - at Solo's speech.
Al put a hand on the doctor's shoulder, and said to Solo, "They ain't linked into our comms." Turning to the doctor, he said, "What Solo here means about money is jist that we lettin' 'im move some cred around, up what a more, um, acceptable buyer, will pay - both to you an' ta us'n."
Al lit a cigarette. He was so very very happy to have one to light.
"Three things." He ticked them off on burn-mottled fingers. Index finger: "Feller outside's worth a helluva lot more to us alive than dead." Middle finger: "We gotta move now. No more lollygaggin' fer any reason. At least two parties knows we's here. You jist say where, Goodbye baby, an' we won't argue, long as it puts us near the surface an' keeps us in contact with the matrix, because..." Ring finger: "We go live with Dragon Lady in fifteen at a place inna matrix of y'all techheads choosin'. If we gotta be movin' at that moment, all the better - no need fer full VR onna first date."
To Al. "Yes... I was going to ask the charmed ones if they do stunbolts - 3 at the same time and he'll probobly never know what hit him. We can bring him back with a medic kit. If he still stands - we'll need some long distance gun a sniper rifle or an assault rifle. Or if anyone is talented enough to subdo someone in another creative manner I am all ears."
-
Isaint chuckled a these words: "Non lethal take downs are actually a specialty of mine. Especially now that my delivery is finally here."
He opened the oblong box and took out a weapon that looked like a cross between a sniper and an assault rifle.
"That one is a bit hard to carry innocently on the street, but as things stand now the police won't be our largest problem by a long shot.
Now you have free choice: Gel round to the head, taser to the ass or my new favorite..." he opened the last box and took to pistol magazines out: "Capsule rounds filled with DMSO and Narcoject.
For waking him up again, I have a stim patch ready.
That said, I could also sneak up on him and just handcuff him."
While he talked, he was disassembling the Ruger 101 and stuffed the parts into his backpack together with the rest of his new purchases.
-
Solo looks with admiration at ISaint new toy... "I think it will work a lot better than stun-bolts actually - but aren't you afraid for your 'high on APDS' reputation?" Solo says with a dead serious voice.
-
As usual, Al was deeply impressed by his co-workers, even if he was somewhat aghast at the way Solo referred to some sort of specific hex as though there was some universal nomenclature that any professional would be familiar with. It was growing more and more obvious that this entire vocation had sold its soul lock, stock and barrel to the Adversary.
But as far as Isaint's collection of fake ammo went, he'd reconciled himself to that a while ago. And now it looked like it'd come in handy.
"So how 'bout this - Isaint heads out after his quarry now - Nitro, you got eyes on, right? - the rest of us leave in five, stack in the lobby until we git the all clear. Now the tricky part is, we wanna talk ta this guy, but we can't wait for him ta sleep anything off. If'n you can do 'im an' keep 'im fit ta walk, hurt, an' talk, more's the better, cuz time, she ain't on our side."
He turned to Solo: "Reckon you can't go huntin' cuz you gotta figure out our matrix meet spot inna next few minutes so I can call Dragon Lady fer our meet with her that's gon' be in fourteen minutes from now. So ever'one pack up - Goodbye, we goin' good-bye - where to?"
-
He turned to Solo: "Reckon you can't go huntin' cuz you gotta figure out our matrix meet spot inna next few minutes so I can call Dragon Lady fer out meet with her that's gon' be in fourteen minutes from now. So ever'one pack up - Goodbye, we goin' good-bye - where to?"
"You are off course correct, I know just the server, it is a library in Seattle - bad connectivity and the noise from the distance will make funny tricks difficult to pull... Thanks for keeping me focused... If there is time after the meetup, I might even try to convince them that I did return my physical copy of the catcher in the rye back then in 64... 12 years late return fine on a book I did bring back, is simply unjust."
-
Isaint nodded: "Ok. Damn shame that Daddy isn't with us now. A little invisibility spell would make this even easier." To Solo he said: "You better deliver than, you don't want a bibliothecary as your enemy."
He searched one last time through the empty boxes so he really had everything he'd paid for, checked his pockets to ensure he knew where his new gear was and went down to the lobby.
<<Ok Nitro, be a dear and give me access to your drone's feed. I don't want to have to shoot the guy twice.>>
-
"ISaint, Daddy was really cool, but I can also give you the full invisibility package, concealment too. Just say when you are ready and I'll do it. "
[spoiler]
Solo will cast the invisibility spell at a low force with 10 reagents to set the limit.
Invisibility (http://orokos.com/roll/317251): 15d6t5 8
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/317252): 11d6t5 2
Then he'll use a service from M (2 left) to conceal 8 people in the gang, hoping that Goodnight/Vick can help the rest. Basically to spot Isaint you'll need 9 hits at a perception test with -8 dice. Or to look at the astral ;)
[/spoiler]
He then adds - "But I did deliver, unfortunately the darn matrix crushed and the world nearly ended shortly after... long story short - when they finally went back online... their records said that my book was not returned... talking to them was impossible, so I just left... I had bigger problems to worry about like digitally 'existing'. "
-
Al fingered the trode rig in his pocket that Isaint had loaned him. He realized with some relief that if they weren't doing the next meet in full-VR, he might not need it - his comm could route an AR overlay to his eyes and they'd be able to stay mobile.
Except when he was tossing up all that nice meat Vic had brought them. Ah well. A man works for a living.
Once he had the coordinates of the library from Solo, he wasted no time texting them to eTher. <<Getting hotter by the minute. And price rising steadily too. We meet at this locale in thirteen minutes for a quick handshake, hear what you have to offer. Will bring the asset, but we won't be able to be in full-VR. (And that's not because of me!) Bring who you want, but I'll want to see you there and be convinced in my gut it's you.>>
Isaint had been gone for two minutes. "We head down in three, and we think the coast is clear for the moment. Anyone gotta tinkle, now's the time."
That got Rachel out of the room for a moment, and he took Doctor Pelletiere aside, and motioned to French. "Listen, this may sound harsh, but that stuff in yer head, you gotta back it up ta Frenchie's memory here. That gives us all sorts of tactical advantages, helps us keep you an' yours safe, an' I hope by now you can trust we ain't doin' this ta rip ya off."
-
After a short dive through the matrix, 20 seconds tops Solo said; "Okay guys, I gave you all library reader cards - it will be 20 nuyen each, my treat. I Didn't even need to hack just fill up the signup form. I gave them some bogus details about you, so if the AR show a bit creativity with your nicknames it is my own bizarre sense of humor... For god sake do check out a book when you are in there. Al your nick is Bad Granpa, and ISaint is high on APDS the rest will have to figure out their own names. " Solo smiles a wicked smile.
[spoiler]
Aron - Legolas
Frenchman - Micky blue eyes
Goodnight - Miss Piggy
Vicky - Megadeath
Doc - Dr. Evil
Wife - Luna
Solo - Holden Caulfield
Feel free to change the names if you think about something a bit more funny ;)
[/spoiler]
-
"Wow, that is very cool. Now I just need a visible person to open the door for us, so we can slip out without arousing suspicion."
Isaint waited until Solo had cast his spell and then phoned the reception desk: "I have 100 NY for you if you can open the entrance door and pretend to have a smoke break. Keep the door open."
...
"Don't argue, it's 100 NY for something you'd do anyway. Just do it now."
Isaint transfered the money and waited for the ma behind the desk to comply.
Once he had moved past the man, he found the position of the adept.
Since he couldn't be sure if the guy saw into the Astral, he moved quickly so the sight lines were broken and curved back, so he could close in on the guy from the rear.
He took out the taser from his holster and got it ready.
[spoiler]
Sneak test:
Sneak test (http://orokos.com/roll/317254): 11d6t5 3 [11d6t5=2, 1, 2, 1, 4, 5, 4, 3, 6, 1, 5]
Attribute Boost AGI (http://orokos.com/roll/317256): 7d6t5 4
Sure, right when it's just a little exercise
Activating Heightened Concentration, aim two actions for +1 die and +1 limit
9 Agi + 8 Skill +1 Aim + 1 Laser -1 Vitals Shot w/ heightened concentration against unsuspecting target (unless he has combat sense)
Taser shoot (http://orokos.com/roll/317257): 18d6t5 10 [18d6t5=2, 5, 6, 2, 1, 6, 6, 4, 6, 5, 6, 5, 3, 6, 2, 1, 4, 6]
Wasted 2 hits
11S AP -5 +8 hits
Since I don't know his stats, I'll just use the Gun Slinger Adept archetype
Surprise test (http://orokos.com/roll/317261): 8d6t5 2
Surprise!
Resistance: Bod+Armor= 3+12+4(non-conductivity)+2 mystic armor -5 AP= 16
Soak (http://orokos.com/roll/317264): 16d6t5 1 [16d6t5=4, 2, 2, 1, 3, 2, 1, 6, 1, 1, 4, 1, 3, 2, 2, 2]
Ups. That is almost lethal...
18 Stun = 9 Stun, 5 Physical
[/spoiler]
Afterwards Isaint felt really bad. The shot had hit so precisely at the back of the man's neck that his voluntary muscle control instantly stopped and the man hit the ground face first onto a sharp edge. The biomonitor function in his taser told him that the man was hurt pretty badly, but at least he wouldn't die. To be on the safe side, Isaint handcuffed him, before carrying him back to the others.
<<Got him.>> he texted to the team while he got ready to enter the AR meeting.
Damn this guy was heavy.
-
>> That was quick - DO NOT carry him yet! he'll be a giant floating man. wait for me to spell him too! or at least lift the spell from you.
Said Solo as he rushed to the window to cast another invisibility spell at the dwarf. People sometimes forget that they are invisible - this was the weakness of that spell - you still see yourself as if nothing happened - just other people do not see you.
[spoiler]Invisibility for dwarf (http://orokos.com/roll/317266): 13d6t5 3
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/317267): 11d6t5 3
[/spoiler]
-
The business between the Doc and Frenchie took only a few moments to resolve, just enough time for Al to retrieve his explosives. At the five minute mark they all headed for the lobby, and by that time Isaint's work was done.
At the sight of the floating dwarf, Al remarked, "Well, looks like ya done solved the mobility issue. Right, we's ten minutes from the meet inna library. That's ten minutes o' movin' away from here. Any direction's fine, Goodbye, jist so long as we keep our matrix access."
-
"Ten minutes down here will get you nowhere." Goodnight says evenly. "Shadows Folly is really just the market, hotels, and a few dozen kips like mine, and it'll be a cold day in an especially fiery hell before I invite the fractured madman or the frog into my home." She shakes her head. "There's a surface access not far from here, but you wouldn't like where it leads, and with the rioting sweeping the streets topside, you could be popping up into six marching rows of Red Samurai or S-K enforcers." She looks at Victoria, who had just gathered up her ritual supplies and rejoined them in the lounge, looking pale and wan- even moreso than her usual banshee coloring- and considers her options for a moment.
"Alright, here's the thing. We can leave here. I don't recommend it, but since I know exactly how much ice that cuts with you, I'm assuming you're all leaving anyway." She nods at the door. "Best bet with only a few minutes to spare is back to the market. The whole place is wired for matrix access and you can find a pretty good rundown of places on Below's local darknet. Pick a café or a restaurant with booths and hole up. No one will bother you and security is good enough in Nightside that you can do your biz without worrying."
She breathes a heavy sigh and says, "Get moving. You'll need to hurry if you're going to make your meet. I'll catch up with you soon enough, but there's a thing I need to do, and I need Vicki for it. Just go back the way you came and you should have no trouble. Now move"
-
"Alright, here's the thing. We can leave here. I don't recommend it, but since I know exactly how much ice that cuts with you, I'm assuming you're all leaving anyway." She nods at the door. "Best bet with only a few minutes to spare is back to the market. The whole place is wired for matrix access and you can find a pretty good rundown of places on Below's local darknet. Pick a café or a restaurant with booths and hole up. No one will bother you and security is good enough in Nightside that you can do your biz without worrying."
Solo say: "No, this attitude won't fly Goodnight. If you have a strong opinion as to why we should stay please honor us with your opinion. If you want to be respected - please quit the 'you are all arrogant assholes' approach." He is hyper alert when he say that, his magically enhanced reactions just wait for the right input so he can dodge what ever it is Goodnight might dish at him... But Solo knows this much - the one danger to this team is from within. Especially when the offers will get real and tempting, and the conflicts of interests will be apparent. What will happen if NeoNet deal blows up? Will they play the good guys for long? The seeds of trusts must be planted now.
-
"We'll need a place where we can patch this guy up a bit and question him", Isaint interjected, indicating toward the bloodied visage of his burden. "He fell quite unluckyly", he added lamely.
-
To ISaint "Lets patch him up then... we can always hurt him again if he miss behave" He gets his briefcase medic kit and operates it on autopilot. Mechanical arms, deploy themself to the medik kit and perform various diagnostics and treatments to the wounds.
[spoiler]R6 medik kit (http://orokos.com/roll/317329): 12d6t5 8 - àll 5 physical damage healed.
[/spoiler]
The medic kit clean the wounds and use medicine to stabalize the person. At the end of the treatments all vitals are fine - he is just stunned. "There is not even need to complement it with magic - this is a good kit." Said Solo. "We can interrogate him now here - that way we get a clear decision how dangerous he is. I am not sure we want to carry him with us around the city. "
-
Goodnight shakes her head. "No, what won't fly is you giving me shit and making peremptory statements like that. I'm not a part of your team. I don't know you. When this is over, I'll never see you again." She says flatly. "I'm here to do a job. I'm doing it. When its done, you guys can get out of Below and back to your normal lives. Until then, fuck off and don't tell me how to do my job, Solo. I was asked a question. I answered it. I will provide further input as necessary. If you wanted me to quit the so-called arrogant assholes approach, then maybe you shouldn't be an arrogant asshole. You're the primary culprit here." Her voice doesn't rise or speed up. She could be talking about the weather for all her inflection changes. It is...most un-Goodnight like. "You assume you know me, know my sister, know our lives. You assume you know my world better than I do, and that just because you say things with a smile that people will go along with them. Guess what? That doesn't work down here. Torrent paid me to guide you, so I'm guiding you. Trust is a two way street and down here, you're in my world, so you have to give a little to get a little. I am still here because I am a professional and because I want to see this family safely out of my domain, and that is it."
She turns to Isaint. "Moving swiftly on," she says, talking over any response Solo could muster, "the body shop on the lowest level has a good track record with..." she smirks, "...assisting in temporary loquaciousness brought on as an unfortunate side effect of gravity, possibly aided and abetted by acute metal poisoning through a high speed ballistic vector. Tell them I sent you and ask for a private room. I'll be along as soon as I am able."
-
"That will do. Thanks. But since we have a deadline to the meeting, we'll probably have to delay the 20 question game until afterwards. Unless of course one of you other guys wants to take care of that - especially since I am not well versed in interrogation techniques at all."
Isaint pulled a stim patch and a little key from his pocket. "Here, whoever wants to take care of it. But careful with the patch, it's a strong one."
-
Goodnight snorts softly. "Would it surprise you if I said I was good at getting information from recalcitrant subjects?" She asks drily. "Remember that pain spell you got on my tits about earlier? Yeah. No permanent damage. I can have him singing like a canary in five minutes, tops. If you leave him here, I can do it. Victoria can make sure I don't get out of hand and check his power if it looks like he's liable to get frisky."
-
To ISaint: "No need to 20 questions... I can just read his mind I do not even need a single question. Few seconds with him and with a little luck I'll know all his secrets - or atleast his memories from the last few days."
To Goodnight "How delightful... do you want to go before I read his mind or after? Just keep him quiet and alive and I'll regret not bringing popcorn." He smiles a very dark smile at her.
-
"I said interrogation - not torture. Didn't we have that discussion recently?" Isaint shook his head sadly.
"If you can do it quickly Solo, sure, why not."
#160
-
changes. It is...most un-Goodnight like. "You assume you know me, know my sister, know our lives. You assume you know my world better than I do, and that just because you say things with a smile that people will go along with them. Guess what? That doesn't work down here. Torrent paid me to guide you, so I'm guiding you. Trust is a two way street and down here, you're in my world, so you have to give a little to get a little. I am still here because I am a professional and because I want to see this family safely out of my domain, and that is it."
"Well, you still haven't gave me your opinion on why it is a bad idea to leave. You just gave me a little lecture about my bad personality - I am not a good person get over it. I maybe annoying or arrogant for trying to reach out for you or your sister - but I am not discussing personal stuff with you. I am asking your opinion about how to behave in this world of yours - I ask for your opinion because I respect it - but you give me that you are an asshole do what you want and die - I couldn't care less approach."
His voice is still friendly and pleasent when he say these things. But is body is a bit more relaxed now.
-
Goodnight sighs, a long-suffering, resigned sound and rolls her eyes. To Isaint, she says, "I suppose we did. Do as ye like then. I wash my hands of it." She saunters over to Victoria and puts an arm around the banshee's shoulders. "If you will excuse us, I need to attend to my sister's needs. Blood holds more currency with me than nuyen or good intentions. I will hopefully catch you in the market soon enough. If not, here is my fixer's contact information. Her name is Erica. She can find you another guide if you so choose.". She ignores Solo. She's done arguing. There's no point. Instead she quietly leads Victoria out the door, headed back to her kip in order to feed her little sister's thirst. Hopefully she will survive, as she has before.
But perhaps not.
-
"I said interrogation - not torture. Didn't we have that discussion recently?" Isaint shook his head sadly.
"If you can do it quickly Solo, sure, why not."
#160
So no opinion, just get lost - I guess she just don't blend with us. Oh well, will continue to do things as we understand.
Solo sits down and clear his mind, he places his hand on the forehead of the dwarf and begins concentrating. The dwarf mind is a metaphorical iron fortress - just sensing it is difficult. Solo probes it for a while looking for his way in - but dwarfs are strong willed and do not easily spill their beans. But there it was, an emption - shame and sadness Solo leveraged on the opening and was inside the mind. He could feel his mind probing various aspects of the dwarf, his reacent memories and motivations. Solo was after who hired the dwarf and why is he looking at the hotel. He however, got more than he bargained for. Minds are like that sometimes you never know exactly what memories you will encounter while trying to satisfy your answer. After a short while Solo decides that he knows enough on the dwarf to determine that he is no imminent danger.
[spoiler]
Solo will cast the spell using 10 reagents - to push the limit.
Mind Probe (http://orokos.com/roll/317334): 15d6t5 3
This will not do the trick Solo will expend edge to reroll faliures because I feel that knowing exactly who he is is important.
Mind Probe (reroll) (http://orokos.com/roll/317335): 15d6t5 6
I am not sure how much defense to give him... it is willpower + logic (lets give him 10 dice?)
Dwarf adept defense (http://orokos.com/roll/317336): 10d6t5 3
A net of 6 hits. Solo knows everything about him including his darkest secrets.
Drain the force of the spell is just 2 so:
drain (http://orokos.com/roll/317337): 11d6t5 5
no drain.
[/spoiler]
Solo wakes up from the spell a little dizzy, he grabs a glass of water and after a short time say"First he is not related to the NDM... he is a private contractor looking to make some jing... probobly saw us entering the hotel and decided we are worth something to someone.
We can leave him here and by the time he wakes up - our run will already be over. We can cuff him a little more and gag him just to make sure. Or even drug him a little bit - but there is no sense in hurting him further."
[spoiler]I am just guessing... Aria need to give the details. [/spoiler]
-
Not having any eyes inside the first inkling Nitro has of anything going down is Goodnight and Vicky striding out of the hotel together. Wait, What the frag is going on here? His drones watch the pair moving towards the tunnel back to Goodnight's doss, as they get near the rigger begins to make a half step out when the combined glamour hits him, Vicki may not be int he same emotional state, but she is kin and resonates.
An wave of emotion his like a glacier... cold, pitiless and grinding anything in its path to dust. It was cold rage nearly personified.
His heart skipping a couple of beats he flattens against the wall into the shadows and does something he's almost never done since he first bought and tested the armor. He pulls the hood up over his head and activates the Ruithmic Polymer Coating's stealth settings. Watching them pass he didn't see a dangerous runner and her tragically infected sister... he sees a living weapon walking stride in stride with a soul devouring huntress of the night.
It's not until even his enhanced hearing can no longer hear their footsteps that he dears even subvocal to the group, his voice shaking. "Alrigh'... summon' wanna fill me in on wha' tha frag juss' 'apened?"
-
Solo answers in subvocal still trying to process all the bits and pieces of the mind probe. "Goodnight is going to feed Vicki her own blood... I am not sure she wants to come back. She just waved her fixer name and told us to get another guide. I hope this odd couple survives.. you seem to be a bit shaken, are you okay?"
-
A slightly nervous laugh coming through he sub vocal. "I juss' saw 'em pass by... lemmie jussay if anyone was stu'id enough te try mugin' 'em I dunno if there' be enou' lef' fer tha rats..."
-
Solo laughs casually. These are not the dangers to these couple, Vicki has only Goodnight to sustain her... Goodnight is not very functioning - Vicki will be Facing the real consequences of her condition, when Goodnight is gone and with the way she seemed determined to make enemies - Solo is not very optimistic.
The horror Vicki might feel having to seduce, damage and kill just to survive. Solo can relate a little bit but eventually it seems that every broken person is broken in some different way and they all seem to be lonely.
"It is not the mugger I am worried about... They are darker than anything in these shadows - it is their own nature that endangers them. " Hissed Solo softly.
Goodnight was right, for her feeding her sister was all that mattered. For Solo it was just another day at an awful run that gone wrong. The troubles of a teenage banshee or an emotionally challenged beautiful mage are distractions. This is not therapy, nor it is about making friends. For all Solo knows tomorrow he may have to assassinate the darn banshee girl - it will pay great and he may need the money. It is not about relationship advice and not even about the family finding a job they like - despite what Al and ISaint may feel about it. This run is only about getting paid. The family will all die without active protection and if the NeoNet deal blows up, then Solo is comfortable of selling the family to the devil himself. As long as he does not actively kill them - he is game in all scenarios.
At the end of the day Solo could have also been recruited by SK, the NDM or any other interested party - who knows who initially recruited him to begin with and how dark were their intentions. It is difficult to make real friendships with other runners when you know that tomorrow you might be the one fighting them. Some things may just take time.
-
Another nervous chuckle "Ye missun'erstan' me Solo... 'ere ain' gonna be enou' lef' o' tha mug'ers frr tha ra's."
-
"Damn. Mages really don't last in this team."
Isaint reshuffled his gear. "We are again down some magical assets. This doesn't bode well for our coming confrontations.
But we are rested, we have increased the competition for our product and we are about to be late to our own VR-meeting. So let's gear up and roll out."
-
Another nervous chuckle "Ye missun'erstan' me Solo... 'ere ain' gonna be enou' lef' o' tha mug'ers frr tha ra's."
"I completely understand you... Standing in their way a bad idea."
A little nostalgic Solo do not comment on ISaint comment. This is why he learn how to do anything on his own. Solo is never missing a decker or a mage, or a relatively skilled gun man. In the future he'll also be a reasonable rigger just reasonable- sometimes good amazing is difficult to pull as there are so many areas to master and so little time.
"Lets just make the most out of what we have." Said Solo, he did not like to be the only mage the team had, nor did he like the fact that a lot of the matrix stuff was on his shoulders, but Solo got a lot of milage of working alone. He planned his runs so the mojo matrix and muscle required were within his skill level. He found unique ways to approach problems.
With his geeky throdes he begun to prepare the meet. Connecting equipment, setting up firewalls, augmenting his willpower.
To Al - "Since Goodnight had no rational reason why she wants us to remain in this hotel - I take it we trust our intuition and leave this place before more people come knocking on our door."
To everyone:
"Do you want to put the doctor on the Growler? if we are attacked he will be the prime target - we may want him in the most mobile position. We can have two riders - a body guard and the doc with Nitro jumping in if there are troubles - Security is not my strong point so just tell me if it makes sense."
-
Al was dismayed to see the sisters go. They had been damned useful.
On the other hand, well, volatile would be the nicest word he could think of, and Goodbye's presence had taken a psychological toll on the team. Maybe something had had to give.
He was surprised to see the last straw was Solo - he was about the only one she hadn't fought with. Maybe that was why.
Still, he could see himself working with either one again. This line of work was making him into a downright paragon of open-mindedness, and he silently congratulated himself for it.
For now, they were out of the compromised hotel and in motion towards the place Goodbye had recommended. Solo was making the arrangements, and in nine minutes that wouldn't go fast enough, they might be making a deal that could end this nightmare. He allowed himself a flash of optimism.
As for the Growler: "Reckon it's your ride, compadre, yer askin' ol' Al's opinion, its yours to ride. Had a lot o' real bad experiences with splittin' groups up, an' I'd jist as soon keep these four together, come hell or high water, as have whisked away ta safety while leavin' the others at threat." He shrugged. "Ain't never been no one's pa, but if'n I was the Doc, reckon I'd feel the same way."
-
"If we need to move the Doctor, the bike seems like a good plan. I'd drive. No bullets are getting through this." Aaron says, patting his armor proudly. I hope...
As the group did some kind of matrix wizardry to prepare for the meeting, Aaron turned on his comm for a bit to check his messages. Much to his surprise, there wasn't a single angry message from Madezyne. Not even from her assistant. Odd.
He swirled some variation of coffee in a plain white mug and stared at it. This seems like a good crowd to help me with those "lenders"... but an awfully bad crowd to owe anything to. He glanced up at Solo.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:02, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
The group have squirreled themselves away as far from the hustle and bustle of the market as possible within a cramped eatery. The signal is strong here, routed from the surface via fibre and mesh networks. The distance to the Seattle host is passed with barely a thought and those attending the meet immediately see fairy twinkle dragon amidst the other personas using the host for various library services…the high res icon is a dracoform made up of swirling constellations and nebulae…
***
#48
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:02, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Al's stomach felt like it was awash in a North Sea storm, with the stacks of books looming up and threatening to crash over him in virtual waves.
Except he'd been in North Sea storms, and they'd never made his gut feel like this.
Maybe it was everything in his stomach that was tossing about like a storm at sea, which would explain why the plastic bag he'd hastily swiped from a fruit stall was already half full.
Still smelled like those tasty meat skewers.
But there was Fairy Twinkle Dragon, so time to look sharp. He'd never bothered upgrading the persona on his Fairlight from the default UMS, but the comm was bleeding edge enough that his faceless silvery silhouette would likely translate his body language, so he needed to stay frosty.
He was just really only halfway there, having opted for an AR overlay through his image link, partly to lessen the impact on his digestive tract, but mostly so he could stay aware of his meat surroundings. The damned druids knew where they were, no reason their other hunters weren't just as close on their tail. But even in a ghostly AR overlay, that icon was one-of-a-kind.
Except of course it wasn't.
No way to tell just by looking at her.
"Well met again, yer miladyness. Been a while since that casino down in Stuck."
-
Riding a bike in a underground maze is bound to quickly take you to a dead end. I'd vote for remaining on foot. Better chances to disappear in the crowd if you ask me.
The crew made it to the eatery. The Frenchman could plug a cable to his datajack and partake in the virtual meeting. Part of him was curious to meet again with that Lady. But, Matrix and Virtual worlds were definitely not his forte and with Al and Solo justifiably in charge of the meet, there was no reason to make himself known. Plus he'd rather stay with the family on the look out for any sign of trouble. With ISaint and Jackhammer around they were well protected, though he felt ISaint was also hesitating whether to enter the meeting or not.
All he wanted was to get out of this place... That all 'underground' idea has not been much of his liking. With his blank memory, he couldn't tell if his uneasiness with this place was due to past experiences or simply a bad feeling he was getting.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:02, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
"Well met again, yer miladyness. Been a while since that casino down in Stuck."
"Master Guthrie, I think you might be mistaken. We last met in September in the Maiden in Seattle...although I have followed your exploits since through Silk, you are an interesting man!" and there is just a hint, tiny, of the wolf (or the dragon) eyeing its next meal
"Do you wish to introduce me to your other companions or should I deal directly with yourself? Silk said you had a package that might interest me...?"
***
#49
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:02, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
"Heh heh. Well, now we got yer bona fides, this here's Doctor Richard Pelletiere, complete with a head full o' research on that same matter I done that datasteal for ya on last year. I reckon ya already know his wife Rachel here, since you was at the same fancy-pants soiree last night. As fer the others, they'll introduce theyselves if'n they's so inclined."
He stopped speaking for a moment. Not by choice. He was catching his breath and swallowing back the vomit seeping up into his throat. He hoped in the UMS it looked like a pause for dramatic effect.
"Now the Doc here needs a new place ta call home fer himself. An' fer his whole family. An' that part's non-negotiable. I don't mind sayin' there's been multiple offers. But we all sat down, an' decided, tentatively an' in principle, we'd try dealin' with you. So here we are. Whether it goes further'n this depends on three things."
Again, he ticked off points on his now-metallic fingers:
"First, ya gotta convince the Doc. You can talk ta him directly right here. Second, ya gotta convince the rest of us that yer gon' treat us delivery folk fair - we been through a lot, an' lost some good people. An' third, ya gotta convince us you got a workable an' suitably expeditious handoff option, cuz like I said, things is hot. Reckon I'll leave those discussions ta you an' my better spoken colleagues."
And with that, he shut off the wifi on his eyes, routed the audio to his earbud, and emptied the rest of his breakfast into the plastic bag. He had no doubt the others could complete the negotiation just fine.
-
“Certain things, they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.” Say Solo to compliment Al's 'demands' about the family. He is in hot Sim and can actually smell the dust of the books. His icon is 3 dimensional Holden Caulfield avatar. From an old trid about the book. "can you do me a favor before we further discuss the details? I heard you are a legendary Decker. Would you mind returning this copy of the catcher in the rye for me... It is over 10 years overdue by now, but I do not have the actual copy. It should not take you more than a few seconds. "
If that person was not really eTher - chances are whomever it is - couldn't hack a library host. If it was eTher she'd do it without an effort, thought Solo.
(http://andy-potts.com/content/uploads/2013/03/Holden_Caulfield.jpg)
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:02, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Nitro was sitting in one of the booths, a cup of soycaf in front of him, and the shotgun propped up beside him under the table and out of sight. This run was getting more and more crazy, but something like this was going to pay very well. His cyberears where listening in on the virtual meeting while he kept most of his focus here in meet space. A few of his drones where scattered around the eatery, keeping out of sight as they watched the entrances. Taking a moment he checked the feed from the Bumblebee hovering near the 'roof' and trying as best it can to stay out of sight and not draw attention as it watches the main entrance and the bike.
Thinking about how the rest of the run is going to have to go down he pipes a message to Goodnight Nitro to Goodnight <<Goodnight, it's Nitro here... I don't know what the dreck happened, but I still owe you for that night. Keep my comcode and if yo need my help, let me know. On to other matters, there's probably not much point getting this lot of jokers another guide, I can navigate pretty well, but I simply don't have the data in the place. Can you point me towards someone who can get me the most up to date and reliable map data to the nearby surface entrances and other major locations down here?>>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:05, Library Host, Downtown Seattle / Nightside Market, London Below, London]
"First, ya gotta convince the Doc. You can talk ta him directly right here. Second, ya gotta convince the rest of us that yer gon' treat us delivery folk fair - we been through a lot, an' lost some good people. An' third, ya gotta convince us you got a workable an' suitably expeditious handoff option, cuz like I said, things is hot. Reckon I'll leave those discussions ta you an' my better spoken colleagues."
“Doctor…” that simple word conveys respect, and somehow portent “I have researched your work. My master would be very pleased to have your assistance, particularly in light of the unfortunate events in Boston. This threat must be taken seriously. We would of course welcome your family in to the fold as well, it would not serve us to separate you or treat them with any disrespect. Indeed, I welcomed the brief conversation I had with your wife yesterday evening, she is a forceful and erudite woman.
The runners accompanying you would also be recompensed for their efforts in keeping you safe and delivering you to a new life with my master. As to a handoff, I have a zeppelin in the air bound for London, it could reach you on Hampstead Heath perhaps, somewhere away from the centre and without bothering with the formalities of air port services…? Perhaps the runners have another location they would like to suggest?”
She apparently ignores Solo’s request about the Catcher although any later search would reveal that the library no longer has a record of ever owning a copy of the book
***
#50
-
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Darkness.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Silence, broken only by the slow fall of condensation from old pipes long forgotten by the world above. Then...
"Please, no! Please please pleasepleasepleasegodnopleasehelpmeeeeeeeEEEEE-!"
A scream, chopped off by a shuddering gasp. The voice is a woman's. She is alone. She is young.
She is terrified.
The knowledge that the frailties of her flesh are long gone temporarily subsumed by the hideous memory of their loss, the young woman sits upright, clawing her way from the tortures of yesterday to the desolation of waking. As she levers herself up, the last echoes of her tortured sobbing dying away amidst the ancient, corroded lagging, ratty sheets fall away from an otherwise-nude body. The form so exposed is both radiant and repulsive, idealized and inhuman, a thing found only in the dreams and nightmares that come in the small hours and whisper to the darkest parts of the metahuman psyche, just before waking...
The girl is at first lovely. Her skin is perfect, very fair without being pallid, smooth and soft and warm and bearing neither hair nor blemish. Her legs are long and lithe, a dancer's legs, toned without being muscular and rising into a compact curve. Her arms are slender and pleasingly rounded, and her modest chest appears larger than it otherwise might because of the narrow, waiflike structure of her body, with her flat stomach, waspish waist and only a gentle flare to her hips. Her face is cute, even fey, dominated by a pair of huge blue-green eyes above a rosebud mouth and below a small, pert nose. Her cheekbones are high but not prominent, and her chin comes to a delicate point that emphasizes the long sweep of her swanlike neck, which in turn gives way to a delicately notched collarbone. Her voice is lovely, even gasping and sobbing, a high, crystal-clear, perfectly pitched thing of breath and forbidden promises. Her dark-golden, almost honey-colored hair falls in a gentle wave down her perfect back, marked only by a palm-sized cerulean LED tattoo of a music staff going around a skull. The staff bears notes, . Where they grip the lumpy mattress, her hands are long and fine-boned, pianist's hands, and her small feet are highly arched. Both finger- and toenails are varnished a delicate pink with tiny, intricate white flowers painted onto the last three fingers of her left hand.
But the longer one stares, the more one sees what is simply not quite metahuman about her. Her eyes are just a shade too large, her delicate face a shade too symmetrical and perfect to be real. The proportions are just slightly off as well. The fingers gripping the mattress have sprouted seven-centimeter claws that have sunk all the way to the steel frame beneath and the delicate feet have sprouted long, wickedly sharp spikes. Her waist is just the slightest bit too small, her chest the barest fraction too large, her hair just a shade too lustrous. Her neck is slightly too long, her skin too perfect, her lips too red. She is exquisite, but somehow wrong. Artificial.
It is this inhumanity that gives her her name.
Dolly. The living toy. A thing created from woman but not of woman, robbed of her humanity to make room for someone else's twisted vision and that vision whored out for sex, and violence, and all manner of twisted depravities. Humanity's dark side has many uses for a beautiful, pliable monster, who was built to be everyone's plaything.
Only now Dolly plays a different game.
Dolly blinks slowly as consciousness reasserts itself. Her cyberears tell her that there is nothing else in the room- nest, really- that wasn't usually there, the dripping from the pipes echoing back only from objects that her perfect recall remembers. Her honey hair begins to glow faintly, a weak illumination that is nonetheless enough to allow her low-light vision to function, painting everything in the gunmetal tones of a starlight scope. She checks her internal commlink for the time, seeing how long she was out, and the answer comes as no shock to her, even though her elapsed time of unconsciousness was some fifty-three hours.
As always, the hours before her long sleep are missing from her mind, stolen by Laés or magic or drugs, a stipulation of her work in The Houses of Pain, that sinister underworld-below-an-underworld. Sometimes, full-sensory simsense recordings appear, made from her mind and body. She never watches them. She doesn't want to know. Other times, there will be people maimed, or missing, or murdered, and those times the denizens of Earl's court would give her a wider berth as she moved amongst them, doing the bidding of The Houses, or the Courts of the Holy, or the Earl, or The Old One.
Dolly, her composure regained, retracts her metal and swings her slender legs over the side of the rude bed, then yelps as the balls of her feet touch the cold, damp stone. The chill is actually painful, and it takes her a moment to realize that in that missing span of space, her sensory inputs had been overclocked to provide a more intense sensetrack. She takes a moment to reconfigure them back to normal human levels; she could dull or mute them entirely, but she likes to be able to feel still, even if it is through the modern miracles of computers and artificial nerves rather than simple, warm skin.
She stands, then almost immediately stumbles, tripping as her limbs refuse to obey her as they normally would. Dolly throws out a hand to catch herself, but its moving too, too damned slow, and all she manages is to knock an empty glass phial from the packing crate that serves as her nightstand. Her perceptions slow down, the accelerator burning in her mind and the remains of her body boosting her already-heightened reflexes to speed unmatched by anything purely flesh, and she realizes that the same souls who had tinkered with her perceptions had re-engaged the performance interlocks on her limbs. It is the work of a thought to take them off line, bringing them back to their full capacity, and she turns the stumble into a graceful landing on both feet and one hand, her other arm snapping out to snatch the phial out of the air without having to look.
Dolly breathes a sigh and shakes her head, looking around at the nest. It is a sad approximation of an apartment, to be sure. The room isn't even a proper apartment, just a dead-end annex in one of the old lower tunnels with enough room for a bed, a small desk, a small closet, and her packing crate. Her bed is a metal frame with thin metal strips laid across it in an approximation of slats, and an old, somewhat discolored futon mattress atop the tarnished metal. While she is proof against some of the lesser mundanities of environment, she still feels things like heat and cold and it is still possible for her to freeze to death. A friend of hers long since gone had knitted her a blanket against just this danger, and the bright blue-and-yellow check of the large, thick crocheted blanket is the only spot of real life and cheer in the entire nest. Beside the bed is an old packing crate on which sits a pair of holsters containing Ultimax machine pistols and the now replaced-phial.
THere is also an envelope.
Dolly picks it up and sighs again when she sees it stamped with the pentagram of The Houses of Pain rather than the feathered wings of the Courts of The Holy. She checks for- and sees, in ultraviolet- the slitted, serpentine eye inside the pentagram that bespeak The Old One's personal influence as well, and she flicks the envelope open with a twitch of her fingers, her long blades extended only fractionally and withdraws the single sheet of holopaper.
Dolly scans the message inside quickly, her pretty face turning down into a frown as she reads. She sets the paper back on the table, then very carefully picks up a lighter and sets it on fire. Its contents thus protected, Dolly turns to her makeshift armoire, choosing what outfit to wear that will cover Heaven, Hell, and all points in between.
-
Solo's eyes lit with excitement when he learned that his decade old dispute is over, and he did not break his word he did not hack the place.
"eTher,. I have to say that I do not feel very comfortable dropping the family to a Zeppelin. It is a fragile aircraft, and with the amount of resistance we encountered so far I think it endangers the family. Some powerful people want them dead and we already exchanged fire with a well trained HTR team with helicopters. What chance has a slow moving zeppelin against such firepower? Choppers on the other hand, they can land almost anywhere, and do not actually have to land to load passengers. They are fast maneuverable and will offer the maximum security - you can move the family in a zeppelin once they cool down a little bit. I think that our Nitro can bring a chopper to any helipad that you can secure."
-
There is only the faintest twitch of surprise from Nitro at being mentioned before he activates at AR window in his Image link, looking in on the meeting as well as listening. His avatar gives eTher a flamboyant bow, at least as flamboyant as one can manage with the stilted, stuttering movements of one using an AR interface while also trying to monitor multiple surveillance feeds in the Underground.
"Lady eTher, I am indeed quite knowledgeable in the flight, operation and even repair of rotary wing aircraft. I could of course fly stick, but if one with a rigging interface where provided I shall be able to use my flying skills to the utmost to keep the package safe to its destination, this is my specialty."
With this done his avatar steps back again, the movement even more stilted as he closes the AR window to focus more on the surveillance.
-
The Frenchman realized it was probably the first time he actually understood Nitro, though it took him a second to connect the fact it was because he was hearing him thorough the Matrix. If anything, he may ask the guy to just do that from now on.
He was perfectly happy with the Zeppelin but Solo had to contradict. Not a bad point, just one to make things harder.
Hey ISaint, promise me you're not gonna try to kill me again if I set foot in another Chopper.
For him, Hampstead Heath and the Zeppelin meant being out of that dreaded underground. He couldn't wait to get out, even if that meant taking risk on a Zeppelin.
-
The message comes with surprising rapidity, though it is itself somewhat rambling and running on.
<<Heyyyyy baby! Yeah, your merry band is kinda up their own hoops about being in control and that's coming from a self-admitted control freak even though I sometimes like to give it up and let someone else take the reins even if its just for a little while like when Vicki needs blood like she does today. They wouldn't listen to a guide even if you found 'em one and I don't wanna just give you the maps of this place that I have because its kind of secret and a lot of the locals don't dig outsiders y'know? Plus I don't want you to get screwed by your lords and masters because you know where you're going because that would suck drek through a big straw. Don't be me man. Anyway I reported my dismal failure to Erica who has undoubtedly told Torrent and so on &c so someone will probably come your way in a bit. I know everyone wants to get outta below and I'd like to see the backs of the lot of those bastards but you gotta be careful. There's reports of rioting topside especially around Shadows Folly and its sunlit counterpart of SoHo. If you need an exit strategy I'd head west to Earls Court and get out from there. The court is weird as balls but there's a lot of exits that way and it puts you near the edge of London so I'll ask around and see if I can't get you a mapsoft tailored from where you are to a few exits that aren't in the hot zone 'kay?
Try not to get eaten. I may take you up on that offer of help.
Good luck, sugar.>>
-
Isaint answered the Frenchman with a sly grin: "I promise not to try to kill you. But don't worry, as things stand, we probably won't even get of the ground before the next hit. Despite our best efforts, no-one seems to have any trouble locating us. So first we neutralize our attackers and then we can start our journey at our leisure.
But you should probably keep an eye open for others with rocket launchers - after all that's how you nearly got me in 'stambul"
He had followed the discussion with half an ear. The doc seemed to be inclined to take the offer and vague as the terms so far were it seemed as if the team would be well compensated either.
Once the family was out of their hands, he and whoever else from the team who felt inclined to do so could search for Art to ask him a few pointed questions...
#162
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:21, Library Host, Downtown Seattle / Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Negotiations proceed between eTher and the good doctor, but it is clear that his heart isn’t in it and that he is more interested in being safe than striking the best deal. He’s not stupid of course and he gets what guarantees he can from the drake.
eTher also concedes the point about the zepp when the group outline some of the opposition and offers a ground transfer at a location to be chosen by the runners. Much to Nitro’s disappointment she doesn’t bite on his offer to fly a corp chopper for her. It does point to an interesting relationship with NeoNet… despite her apparent influence demonstrated at the party she clearly doesn’t have unlimited access to corp resources.
Shortly after negotiations are concluded the team get an anonymous text message from an unregistered source
<<@Team [xx]: It’s Art here. I’m hoping you are all still alive and the job isn’t as screwed as my flat or the safehouse! Contact me on this commcode if and when you can and we’ll try and resolve this mess>>
@Dolly
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:21, On route to Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Moving through Below she is aware of a buzz in the air. A strange group has been making waves…it’s not that they are seen as easy marks, in fact the opposite is true, word is that they represent a challenge, and in the feral world of Below there is always someone who wants to take on a challenge, particularly of overworlders coming down and throwing their weight around.
Of the thirteen great houses, in particular the House of Flowers have expressed an interest in getting more intel on the interlopers…non of the Greats have yet extended the hand of friendship or ward, and that does not bode well given where Dolly is headed…
***
#51
-
Grateful that the AR torture was over, Al wiped a fleck of vomit from his stubbly chin with the back of his left hand and stood up. He was more than eager to get to a new handover spot and complete the deal they'd just made.
And then they got the message from "Art."
The little man looked around at his coworkers. "Reckon ol' Al's vote is we let Arty twist. I done had bad luck with folks called Art. Anyway, he lost any claim on our loyalty when he lied to us at the meet, sayin' we was who the good Doc was expectin' to extract him an' his kin. That shore as hell warn't nothin' approachin' the truth, an' we hand the Doc over now, then we's back ta bein' slavers."
He paused and lit a cigarette. "An' all that's assumin' whoever sent that text even really is Art. My money says that boy is dead an' cold by now."
-
Aaron pondered Al's words for a few moments. This job seemed a lot more dangerous than he'd originally been led to believe. Or maybe he'd just made assumptions? It was difficult to remember by this point. At any rate, being a body guard to a fashion designer and running escort on the hottest, most controversial talent within perhaps a few countries were very different jobs indeed. Bodies were piling up, strange beds were called "home" for hours or minutes at a time, powerful magicians were coming and going like they were an everyday occurrence, and Aaron himself had yet to really *do* anything. Mostly just run around and hope the hackers and the drivers and the summoners all do their job while preparing to block some errant bullets headed for the doctor or his kin.
"Well, whatever the hell we do, I'd rather face it on the streets than under them." Aaron admitted. "And Al, that was disgusting. This is a cafe. Get it together."
-
Al blinked, perplexed.
"What? What'd I do?" he asked, quickly checking his fly was zipped.
-
Isaint grinned. Yeah Al was alright but definitely not roommate material.
"As far as this message is concerned, we don't have time right now to deal with Art or whoever poses as him. I suggest we reply that we are going deeper into the underground and meet him in two days time.
Once the deal is over we can meet him at our leisure - and if it's an ambush they'll probably have retreated after the news broke that the Doc is now someone else's charge.
As for a meeting place: We'll have to decide: Do we want a place where we can brandish our weapons with impunity, or do we want to rely on the safety that a well regulated and armed governmental environment grants?
I tend towards the first one."
-
"Ya reckon? Ol' Al ain't no fan o' the gummint or nothin', but seems like if'n they come fer us, they guns'll be a damned sight bigger'n ours. Choosin' a spot that levels the playin' field a bit don't sound like a half bad idear."
-
Thirty minutes latter, washed- scrubbed, really- and garbed, Dolly strides forth into that great, strange hotbed of intrigue, Earl's Court. She does not cut an imposing figure; slender and of only average height, garbed in white stockings above high black heels, a frilly white skirt and matching public-school blouse, with a ribbon in place of a tie and a blazer to complete the image, she looks like the bunraku idea of a schoolgirl, and with no weapons or gear to distort the image, doubtless that is what many would think.
Those in the know, however, step lively to get out of her way and she makes it up through the dripping, near-lightless devil-rat's nest beneath Earl's court and into Butcher's Square, the geographical center of Earl's court unmolested. The square is half a kilometer across, and all the tunnels and streets in Earl's Court lead to it. Dominated by an obelisk of Malachite twenty meters high, Butcher's Square- named after some atrocity twenty years ago- is a vast natural cavern, and one of the few large open areas of Below. From Rat's Alley whence she came Dolly can see The Street of Gods, where The Courts of The Holy hold sway, bisected by the lurid red light of the Path of Pleasures, at the end of which lies the House of Pain. Across from the Street of Gods is the Earl's Manor itself, an imposing edifice sheathed in marble and traced with veins of copper and silver and gold where the self-styled Lord of Below keeps his court.
There are other locations as well, some seen, such as the deeply unsettling purple light of The House of Barimen's tower, where Florimel and her daughter Brannagh are rumored to do unspeakable things with the dead, and others only heard or smelled, such as the House of Flowers' lush, poisonous garden, home to a thousand drugs and toxins that perfume the air with their heady fragrances or the constant, bell-toned music of The House of Vitaris, where they hold court and congress with demons called from far-flung metaplanes.
Dolly turns and heads for the Street of Gods. She has business with the Houses of Pain, and she suspects with the Courts of the Holy as well. When one acts, so too does the other, usually.
The Street of Gods is, as usual, a lively place. In a region so steeped in magic and mystical occurrences, religion and belief are easy and readily available comforts to make sense of a senseless world. The Street caters to all, with a double dozen temples, churches, and shrines. She passes a Henge, standing alone on a large patch of grass, home to a group of Neo-druids she's never met more than in passing. A green apparition floats through the trings of standing stones, and the grass lengthens and brightens at the nature spirit's passing. Further, there is a Shinto temple, complete with Fu Lion statues on either side of the broad granite steps. Dolly's heightened senses smell incense: lotus, chrysanthemum, and something else, lavender and english watercress, maybe? One of the priests trying out a new mixture, she assumes. At the top of the steps stands a young woman with white hair and pale pink eyes, garbed in an abbreviated blue kimono and strappy sandals that come to her knees. She holds a katana in a white sheath loosely in one hand and waves at Dolly as she passes. Dolly waves back, smiling at Kiyomi Tamino, the duellist whom the streets refer to as Kenku.
Dolly walks on, passing a synagogue protected by real golems, a Mosque guarded by a militant Imam bearing Khanjar and Charra, and a Hindu temple boasting a sandstone-inlaid plaza on which a Nartaki tattooed and painted to represent Kali practices dodging, twirling and flipping and otherwise evading bolts of fire thrown by an Evoker named Agni. These last two stop to bow to Dolly, who makes a complicated mudra with her fingers before passing on. The Brahmastra are a competent shadow team, and Dolly has liased with them before.
Finally, she reaches the T-intersection where The Path of Pleasures and The Street of Gods Intersect. Ahead of her is a massive church done in the Gothic Style, the heart of the Courts of The Holy. It is a great white thing, sheathed in marble and hung with samite banners, and traceries in aqua, silver, gold, and peridot limn the outside with colour, bespeaking a dozen sects of christianity. The plaza outside is guarded by a three meter fence sheathed in artificial mother of pearl, but the gate is not watched over by a man with a harp. Instead there are two Seraphim, tall, graceful figures in mil-spec armor done up to look like stylized plate armor. Spinrad Holowear projects startlingly real images of wings behind them, great white-pinioned things, and their helmets are featureless expanses of silvery metal crowned by holographic silvery halos. The stand immobile, their hands folded over the pommels of their meter-and-a-half monoswords, and Dolly knows from experience that they will be either combat mages or carry built-in weapons for distance fighting.
Beyond the two Seraphim, the plaza is alive with activity. The Courts of the Holy may be a non-denominational Christian sect, but they are also the heart of the Street of Gods, and a lot of business is done here. A Sikh with an Efreet in tow converses with two robed and hooded Goddess Wiccans, a Jaguar Warrior argues with a Cherub- some sort of drone messenger- and a Pixie hovers five feet of the ground so that he can snap and snarl in the face of a trio of Oni who style themselves as minor demons.
Dolly stops to watch the Demons and the pixie. Emissaries from the Houses of Pain don't usually come to the Courts of the Holy, and it would be good to have locals to follow as she makes her way to her destination. Dolly stands outside the gate, watching disinterestedly to see if the three horned, red-skinned ork variants in their battered leathers and chains are on their way in or out, and only muses for a second as to whether they'll get out alive at all.
-
~~Nitro~~
Nitro was getting restless as the negotiations and surveillance dragged on. This crew seemed to be deeply troubled by the amount of firepower they could be facing, since it seemed air transport was out of the question it would be a ground convoy. Drumming his fingers slowly he contemplated something, an offer he'd been given some time ago, he'd rejected it but the one who offered it said it would remain open. As much as he'd been reluctant to weaponize his car, with everything going down, it might just be the only way to make it through this run.
<<It's Nitro here. Listen, do you still have a line on that concealed mount job? You where right, I do need it, fast. Get around to my place, bring the heavy and a bin of X-X, if you could toss in a visual safety system that would be great. The front camera should easily mount a smartlink system as well. Ahh dreck, who am I to tell you your job? Just get it done fast... it's one of those nights.>>
[spoiler]Nitro post count: 107[/spoiler]
~~Shahin~~
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~8:16, Shahin's residance, London]
Shahin knelt in prayer, facing the window. The window looked out over the city from 30 stories up, up above the worst of the grime, stink and pollution. Dragonfly wings stretched out behind him, body, wings, spirit and mind completely still, a rare sight in a pixie. As he breathed slowly and steadily his mind contemplated the teachings of Zoroaster and the inherent duality of the world.
He's jarred out of his prayers by the buzzing of his comlink, he frowned slightly, those who knew him knew not to contact him at this hour. But on the other hand, the tone was that of a priority message. His hand brushes the comlink bracelet around his left wrist, answering the message and activating his image link contacts. His wings fluttering in surprise at two things, it is his old mentor and Magi from Earl's Court contacting him, and the message bears the official seal of The Courts of the Holy.
<<Shahin, we have a job for you. Come to The Courts of the Holy, there you shall meet with an agent of the Houses of Pain. More details will come later>>
His body is on auto pilot as he sends his acknowledgement, his Magi and The Court of the Holy had done too much for him in the past for him to not take this job. He might have stopped living in the Underworld years ago, left the squalor and cramped tunnels behind. But they had given him the skills he needed to live the life he does now. He can't quite suppress a flutter of his wings at the prospect of heading back down below, he had good reason to live well above ground in an apartment with an open plan and lots of windows. Nevertheless, he had survived it for years, he could survive it for a run.
Knowing he had to move on he gathers his weapons and armor and starts making his way below.
[Thursday June 18th, The Courts of the Holy, Earl's Court, London Below, London]
Even flying several feet off the ground he gives a low, respectful bow to the Seraphim before entering The Courts of the Holy. It was not strictly necessary, but respect is due between warriors of Light and Order. His respects paid he glides into the court, his eyes casting around for the one he was sent to meet. His quickly spots a trino of Oni, dressed int he manor of minor daemons and clearly representatives of the Houses of Pain. He controls a grimace as he flies over to them, he has nothing personal or spiritual against the Houses of Pain, each of us has their own path to follow and asceticism of any kind is to flee from the experiences of life.
It was simply the gaudy display of being daemons he didn't like.
Reaching the Oni he inclines his head. The soft, knitted cap covering his hair undisturbed by the motion.
"I am here at the behest of The Courts of the Holy, tell me more about this job."
"We await another, we shall not speak, the time is not yet come." Each of the Oni spoke in turn, but rather than three separate sentences the tone and inflection of each made it sound like one sentence spoken through three mouths.
"What do you mean you await another? Do you believe me mistaken in approaching you?"
"You are not mistaken, another was summoned, she comes."
This gave Shahin pause, it would be unlikely that there would be two agents of The Courts of the Holy here to meet with the Houses of Pain... there must be an agent of the later coming as well. "Very well, tell me more while we wait."
"It is not our place to speak, we are but guides, another shall tell you."
He can't help but suppress an irritated sigh, the Houses of Pain tended to draw complex personalities to its fold. "Very well, who are we waiting for?"
"The mannequin, the lover, the killer." As they finish one of them nods towards the gates.
Shahin turns his head, watching the image of a fantasy schoolgirl walking through the court. Frowning slightly he let his eyes unfocus, taking in the astral. What he saw made him cringe, the figure watching was barely human at all, an artificial body with barely a shred of Essence left, at what little that remains deeply scarred by past traumas. With a shakes of his head he brings his sight back to the material world and flies over to her.
He's frowning as he gives Dolly an appraising look, the fact he was being teamed up with someone like this was unsettling. Still, he knew the manors of this place, his arms spread wide as he bows, armored in a modern chameleon suit, a monowhip hangs from the belt. His hair covered by a soft, knit cap and a Faravahar amulet around his neck. Although it's clear he is familiar with his surroundings, it doesn't appear that he lives below.
"I am Shahin, here at the behests of The Courts of the Holy. It seems these three are here to escort us."
[spoiler]Shahin post count: 1[/spoiler]
-
Dolly raises an eyebrow. To her, it seems far more likely that they are agents of the Houses of Pain, here to escort her. The Courts of The Holy have somewhat less infernal minions, should they wish to send watchers and guides. She studies Shahin for a bare second, her focus optics analyzing and tagging. Custom Zoé Chameleon Suit in miniature, Ares monowhip, unfamiliar amulet. Her brain does a number of rapid calculations based on the average air speed of a combat-trained pixie, their relative masses, air movement in the plaza, innocent bystanders, the maximum spool speed of a monowhip, and a half a dozen other factors as she figures out the fastest and most efficient way to kill the pixie hovering in front of her.
She doesn't like the conclusion. While she could probably do it, the accelerator speeding her reflexes and her cyberlimbs auto-redlined with all safety interlocks disabled, the chances of her managing a fully killing blow against a small, highly-mobile target with impaired visibility before he could deploy his monowhip are slim at best.
0.016 seconds later, Dolly curtsies, her movements measured and computer-perfect. "A pleasure, Sir Shahin." She says. Her voice is unsettling, computer-dead and pitch-perfect. She starts at a clean middle C, but her musically flawless voice is artificial, with no life to it whatsoever. And why should there be? She is as lifeless as her voice, a computerized prostitute-turned-weapon, with precious little left to call her own, even inside her own head.
Dolly nods at the Oni, who do not nod back. One looks nervous, one looks disgusted, one looks eager, though for what she cannot say. Her brain does its battle calculations again, and the results are much more pleasing this second time. She looks away from them, a small, eaningless smile rising to her too-perfect rosebud mouth. "My business is with the Houses of Pain, Sir Shahin, but my summons did mention a partner and opposite number. Am I to conclude that you are that individual?"
-
~~Shahin~~
Shahin caught the flat, appraising look from the cyborg. He could guess that he was being weighed and measured, his abilities assessed, he himself was doing the same. Where he not to have assessnced her he might not have guessed the cyborg's nature, the body was perfectly detailed to impersonate metahumanity, perhaps a little too perfectly, there was something of the Uncanny Valley to her appearance, something too close but not quite real. But from the astral her body was as dead and artificial as her voice.
If he felt anything about who he was being partnered with he didn't show it. Even in the Shadows above there are unusual figures running them. but down here, below an agent for the Houses of Pain... It is something almost to be expected.
"It would seem so. I was simply instructed to come here and that another from the Houses of Pain would be joining me. I believe we both know what that means."
-
"It means things have gone utterly, horrifyingly wrong." Dolly says in her musical-mechanical voice. "Our respective masters hate each other with a passion normally reserved for epic verse." She glances about, her superhuman mind racing, the psyche pushing her thoughts to unfold like an origami lotus as she considers, measures, deduces.
Finally, Dolly looks back at Shahin then nods meaningfully at the ostentatious church behind him. "Have you responded to your summons proper?" She asks, pseudo-pleasantly. "I have not, but I will wait for you if your business here is not yet concluded." Inwardly, she is wondering whether it would be feasible to report to her handlers first, get a grip on the situation at hand, and retrieve her "kit" before walking into the Seraphim's den. Even a half-emotionless, inhuman metal monster like her is put off by the artificial angels, and while she trusts her body a great deal, she has never had occasion to test the agents of The Courts in earnest.
-
[Tobbis -??? - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis was around somewhere, he wasn't entire too sure where he was, stumbling as he walked with haze in his mind. That magic wizbang stuff did a number on the poor technomancer, he could have sworn he even teleported perhaps, perhaps not.
Regardless, he was trying to make his way through the underground, in hopes of finding the rest of the team.
<<@all - Hello?>>
Was his message outwards.
[spoiler]42 posts added to sheet 44th post
[/spoiler]
-
That place was a bad idea from the start. The sooner I'm out, the better I'll be. So yeah, I'm all for it. As ISaint said, we spread the word we're going deeper or that we have settled for a spot here, while we head back to civilization. A fucked up one, but a livable one. Regarding the meeting point, we're better be ready than sorry, so yes, let's make sure with have the necessary firepower.
As for Art, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt until we hear his side of the story. But that won;t happen until we're through with getting the Doc to the Lizards.
The Frenchman was keeping a eye on the outside while chatting. Dryads, Vampire, Magic Clowns, what else were they going to cross path with in this place?
-
<<Tobis from Isaint: What's up? We are still in the matrix cafe on the edge of the market. We are just about to decide how we proceed, so your presence would be welcomed very much.>>
To the others he said:
"Ok, so we have three Ayes so far to go above ground immediately. Any No votes?"
-
[Tobbis -??? - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
The little changeling reads the message rather quickly, before beginning to run that direction. he may be short, small and a tad bit slow, but one thing he has is stamina. Maybe not as much as a troll or dwarf, but for a human, specifically an unaugmented one, he was pretty top of the line in that department.
It wouldn't be too long until he could get there himself as well.Entering in, panting loudly in his mask, he'd soon be coming up to the table. "Alright what did I miss?"
[spoiler]42 posts added to sheet 45th post
[/spoiler]
-
Any No votes?"
The Frenchman looked intensely at those who hadn't voiced their opinion yet. He was silent, but his eyes cleared were trying to dissuade anyone to actually go for the No Vote.
-
"Well, that was quick. Welcome back Tobis.
We were just discussing where we'd best do the transfer without being ambushed by one or all of our impressive list of adversaries. We are just now discussing if we should go above ground right away or if we should enjoy the dubious safety of this little slice of hell a bit longer.
What do you say?"
Isaint made no attempt to hide which way he leaned in that matter...
-
[Tobbis -??? - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis blinks a bit, tilting his head, as he looks around at each of the people at the table. He wouldn't recognize at least two of them if they were at the table, but the question in turn was, "What transfer?" he asks. before pondering it over a bit. "Well, we've lost a good number of our people. So there's that we've gotta deal with. I'd ask you this, and answer truthfully. Where would you rather ambush someone? Above ground or in here? Whatever is the easiest for them to come at us, I think that is the way we should go."
[spoiler]42 posts added to sheet 46th post
[/spoiler]
-
Al was tremendously relieved they had reconnected with the little techno-creature. They had lost too many, and with every loss, the Pelletieres' chances dwindled for a happy ending.
And the longer this went on, the more he realized that that happy ending for them was all he cared about.
"Sorry there, amigo, you mean, whichever way is easiest fer Dragon Lady's people ta come ta us, that's the way we should go? Sounds right ta me, an' that's still upstairs."
But that still left a problem. "So, who knows where the damned stairs is?"
-
Isaint nodded at Tobbis remark: "Fair question: But actually an ambush here would be a lot more devastating. A tunnel needs only to access ways blocked to be the perfect trap. Above we can choose from a much wider variety of battle grounds. Besides - if I remember Victorias warning correctly - our combinded presence will sooner or later draw out some freaks that want to test how hard we really are."
To Al he said: "That is the one million dollar question. Maybe we should ask that clown for help. They seemed willing to go out of their way to help us - that is up to that incident with Solo. Worth a try in my opinion."
"Hey Solo, do you still have a commcode from one of that troupe?"
#166
-
With Solo trying to reach the clowns, Al figured they shouldn't leave Art - or whoever he was - waiting.
He thought of having Tobbis or Solo do some of their fancy matrix magic to make sure his comm wasn't tracked, but then decided simple was best. He typed out the following on one of his throwaway 'links: <<Art! PTL you're alive, baby. Thought we were going to have to go highest bidder with this package. Not my style. I work for a living. Things were scorching hot, so we ducked into Nightside. Now we are good and lost, but trying to make our way to Earl's Court, wherever that is. We're in a wifi hotspot now, but it's mostly dark down here. We'll lay low, then find a way to make contact again in forty-eight. Alouicious Harlan Guthrie, esquire.>>
Then he hit send, crushed the thing to bits under his Doc Marten workboot, and dumped the pieces into the bag he'd used to be sick in.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
With the negotiations concluded, apparently to Doctor Pellietere’s satisfaction, it comes time to head out again to make your rendezvous. Solo has furnished the group with the Clowns contact details and to collective relief they have agreed to provide an escort once more before they set up for their performance. A group of murderous mime artists might seem like an unlikely choice of guide but it is hardly the strangest thing the group have seen or done down in Below…
Whilst the bustle in the market continues unabated the group are aware that they are now drawing far more looks than they might be comfortable with as they emerge from the eatery. Closing ranks they head once more towards the surface…
***
#52
-
Isaint didn't try to encourage the use of tactical movement. The group had been wittled down to much and speed was now more than ever important. Now that Goodnight no longer looked out for the girl, they did resemble much more a classic security detail: The Frenchmen, Jackhammer, Al and he himself all were taller than their respective charges. Tobis and Solo minding their respective field of expertise.
Of Nitro there was no sign. Isaint had given up trying to predict the movements of this free spirit.
They moved fast but somehow the market did stretch on a lot further than before. And apparently missing the psycho reputation of Goodnight or the Banshee company suddenly a lot more sinister looking people were looking their way.
<<Eyes up everyone. Have your weapons ready - I see a lot of hungry eyes directed at us.>>
-
Aaron keeps his weapons put away to keep his hands free. He walks in the back of the group, as usual, though he gives a thought to walking in front. The trouble with that idea is that he has no idea where he's going, and someone with a computerized map does. So reassures himself of the importance of rear guard while keeping an eye out for anyone following them or moving for weapons. Once the group is moving again, he flips on his comm to make sure he doesn't miss any secret messages from the guys with wires in their brains.
Being an ork, and a rather large one at that, Aaron was used to drawing looks from crowds. He enjoyed knowing that generally nobody would mess with him given his superior size. He liked that most of his job as a bodyguard had been to fill doorways or block halls, and most times just showing up was winning the fight before it started. But even with his newest 'ware, it seemed the people down here, if you could call them "people", just didn't seem to get it. It was like they didn't care about a big ork, or that other ork with a gun and military gear, or anybody really, except for the family that they were protecting. It must've been obvious that they were from the surface, and that someone felt they were important. Perhaps that communicated opportunity to the people of Below. Perhaps it simply offended them that someone from the surface was being treated like they were better. Perhaps curiosity was simply more sinister in a place this far from the sunlight. Whatever the case, people were coming close, uncomfortably close, and Aaron wasn't sure about fighting off a whole crowd. One or two gangers, sure, but a dozen freaks? He had no idea what they were capable of, or how far his talents would get him down here. So he checked his armor nervously and kept walking, hoping for the best.
[spoiler]33 posts[/spoiler]
-
Al shepherded his charge through the press of the market as fast as he could, and if he'd wanted to get out of this hellhole before, he was yearning for it now. Besides the simple degeneracy of it, things were just too crowded. And, increasingly, too interested. He'd really underestimated the prophylactic effect Goodbye's presence had offered them.
But then, just having been with her had probably generated its own degree of attention, so that now that she'd bailed...
Nitro had disappeared. Now there were barely more protectors than protectees now. And with this marketplace press, it was all they could do just to keep from being separated.
Isolated.
Lost.
Gone the way of Smiley. Of Mel.
Well, that wasn't going to be this family, he thought, left hand on Rachel Pelletiere's shoulder, guiding her, gently hurrying her along, sometimes having to grip her painfully just to keep the crowd from separating them. In his right hand was his Remington 990 rocking an armor-piercing clip. In this crowd, though, he'd more likely be wielding the butt than the business end. On the other side of Rachel was Spike, and it was all the three could do to keep moving abreast.
His eyes were peeled for anyone that might be a threat. But hell, from what he'd seen so far, the cocks of the walk down here were scantily clad uber vixens or tarted up mimes. Back in the ash wastes of Puyallup, he could move cross gang turfs and do biz in the Crime Mall, and generally spot threats before they got too close. Hell, he could do the same in Accra, Bangkok, Cairo, Delhi...but down here...if some vampire rabbit started killing his mates he wouldn't be surprised, and here he was without a holy damned hand grenade.
The crowd swept him within earshot of Isaint. "Hey, these clowns do know that the only direction we's innerested in is up, right?"
-
"Well, I'll be sure to tell them once we meet up. Damn this place. It's nice of them to help us out, but it would have been even nicer if they'd met us at the cafe. Honestly, fighting killer fire spirits wasn't so bad compared to this. At least with those you know exactly where the danger comes from.
But this shall also pass - only it's probably going to become worse before it gets better." Isaint knew that in this lot he would have no chance to use his rifle effectively. The hand guns and his focus would have to do.
"But wait till we get up. My contact confirmed that he had my order ready - and luckily it's a package that is able to move itself quite swiftly..."
-
"Yeah, once we find out where in creation we comin' up, I can try callin' my girl ahead an' havin' that replacement set o' wheels I ordered waitin' for us. She's supposed ta have it ready by now. Or...is this quite swiftly movin' thing you ordered a ride also? Either way, won't hurt ta have two."
Al flinched despite himself as a skinny green-skinned ork-thing brushed past, and the little human slapped the guy's fishing hand out of his pocket forcefully enough to know he'd been made, but softly enough to let the freak know he'd do best to just move on quietly rather than risk a confrontation.
That was the second pickpocket Al had fended off since they'd left the cafe, making him wonder just how solid Goodbye's promise of pristine law and order was here in her little utopia. He'd been in places like this before - not underground, but the culture wasn't that far off Seattle's Crime Mall or half dozen other "free markets" he'd spent time in. The peace held only until the stakes got high enough that some with enough juice came in that all bets were off.
He felt that spot behind his right kidney flare again, and there were those ghostly brass knuckles on his right hand again.
-
"You guessed it. It's a medical evacuation drone - fully VTOL capable. A real bargain. I plan to use it as mobile resupply depot and if necessary to move my body to the next shadow clinic - or anyone else who needs it for that matter." Isaint talked, but his mind wasn't with it. Instead he continued to scan their surroundings.
Unbidden memories resurfaced. Rome 2072, his first gig as a real bodyguard. The would be starlet Maria Scupo had just survived the second round in "The hottest virgin" show and somehow managed not only to attract a rabid fan base but also score the enmity of thousands of frustrated would-be good guys and matrix creeps. Even a rape gang had left their disgusting posts on her fan host. She had insisted on taking the scenic tour through the city, stopping at every shrine and chapel dedicated to her name sake. Every minute more and more fans and onlookers followed them. The press of the masses became stronger and stronger. Ian, the head of security pleaded with her to get into the armored limousine, but Maria refused, enjoying to much the adoration of her fans. It was the first time he had taken a bullet for a charge.
The man appeared suddenly and there was no smile on his face as he drew his colt. Isaint still could see the laser pointer travel up to Maria's shaply breasts. His reaction was as much instinct as it was training. He jumped and covered the starlet with his body.
He learned two things this day:
1. Getting shot hurts really badly
2. Trying to be a meat shield is useless if your opponent uses armor piercing discarding sabot rounds
His blood and Maria's mingled, he survived she died - staring into his eyes with a shocked and surprised look.
And he remembered his thoughts then and afterwards: I should have killed him to protect her.
Isaint gripped his gun harder...
-
"Roger roger. So we'll still need the van fer the group. Second we know where we's plannin' to hit the surface, I'm onna 'link. Still got Art's Elite on tap, too, but reckon that ride's been made."
Then he shut up. Less mouth, more eyes, he told himself.
-
His hand on his gun, the Frenchman was ready to draw and shoot. His senses were in full alert, and he could feel his companion were equally focused.
The Frenchman had taken off his coat and gave it to the Doc. His chameleon suit was plenty of protection for him and in spite of all of the team effort a loose bullet was always a risk. It was a bit big on the smaller and older man, but it should give him decent protection should drek hit the fan.
How do we spread the word out that we're going deeper?
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Nitro is nowhere to be seen, and more worryingly he is not responding to any comm hails…that only serves to ramp the group’s tension levels higher than the pressing crowd does by itself…
When the shit hits the fan it does so with spectacular style… from somewhere in the crowd a whisper of magic distorts the air around the group and suddenly Natasha breaks away, her enhanced agility easily allowing her to duck into the crowd before she can be grabbed…she shouts “I’m coming” as she lunges past the onlookers
An elf child, no more than ten, stylised thorn tattoos writhing across his cheek, steps forwards and blows and handful of dust into Solo’s face. Consequently Solo begins to scream and claw at his face and his spiritual puppeteer whisks him into the dubious safety of the crowd…
Rachel struggles against Al’s wiry strength in an attempt to go after Natasha and the crowd suddenly back away from the group, possibly in response to the Doctors wildly waving weapon, but more likely in the certain knowledge that shadow crowds seem to have that bad things are about to happen…
***
#53
-
The Frenchman really hated Magic! It was always more trouble than not.
His gun was already brandished as soon as Natasha burst away. His first instinct was to cover the Doc however. His left hand grabbed the Doc's arm so he wouldn't decide to shoot randomly in the crowd and he positioned himself to cover the man.
Seeing that a kid attacked Solo was disturbing;
In one flowy movement he aligned his gun with the kid and was ready to shot should he reach for anything or do anything other than flee.
[spoiler]
Let's ready an action to see what the kid would attempt. If he flee the Frenchman will let him, if not he gets the bullet in his knee.
Called Shot - Specific Target: Knee (http://orokos.com/roll/320709): 16d6t5 5
Original DV: 9
DV Limit: 1
Effects: Stunned (target must make a Composure
(2) Test or receive a –10 penalty to Initiative
Score), Knockdown (target must make
a Strength + Agility (DV+3) Test or fall prone),
Slowed (target’s Movement, both Walk and Run
rate, is halved and no Sprint Tests are allowed),
Winded (target is unable to perform Complex
Actions for a number of Combat Turns equal to
the original DV of the attack)
If attack succeed he will take 1DV plus the effects. I'm particularly looking at the Winded one so he can't do complex action for quite a while.
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint cursed. He had his gun out, but couldn't get a clear shot. "Guard them." was all he could say before he threw himself into the crowd after the girl, dodging, jumping and weaving without regard for those who got in his way.
Adrenaline gave him wings but he could feel how the distance between them grew wider by the second.
[spoiler]
Gymnastics:
Gymnastics (http://orokos.com/roll/320718): 11d6t5 2 [11d6t5=3, 3, 4, 1, 4, 2, 5, 2, 3, 1, 6]
[/spoiler]
#170
-
Dammit to hell, that Goodbye witch done sunk her hooks into that poor girl! Al thought as he switched to internal air and strengthened his grip on Rachel.
"Spike: Natasha!" and the hound was off, half a step behind Isaint. Solo was gone - Al would have traded his life for the insane old runner's, but he wouldn't trade the family. That was how it had to work. French had the Doc and Jackhammer had William, and they needed to keep it that way. He hoped Tobbis was okay. "Ever'one else stay the fuck together! Circle the family!" he shouted.
Looking around for any sort of alcove or shop the group could find a least a little cover in, he growled in the ear of a panicked Mrs. Pelletiere: "Yer son is here an' he needs you to chill. Spike an' Isaint'll find yer girl."
-
[Tobbis -??? - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
"Well, I could post things on the matrix, I've got a few friends who could make it a meme."
<<Tweedle-Dee - Mask. Tweedle-Dum Suit!>>
Tobis commands his sprites, "The hell happened to her?" he asks as Natasha runs off a lot more agile than she was when he remembered her.
[spoiler]42 posts added to sheet 47th post
Initiive (http://orokos.com/roll/321749): 1d6+7 8
Tweddle-Dee Diagnostics on his mask (http://orokos.com/roll/321747): 12d6t5 4
Tweddle-Dum Diagnostics on his suit (http://orokos.com/roll/321748): 12d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Leaving cafe - Guard Detail - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
Aaron grabs for Natasha, but finds her surprisingly, indeed supernaturally, agile. He almost breaks away when he realizes that the job is about the doctor, and not about the daughter. A tension flares within him as he struggles with the decision to let go of someone under his protection to protect someone else. Previously he'd only ever dealt with one principal. Now suddenly the equation was different, and he wasn't sure how he should handle things. Professional training collided with snap judgments, feelings of fear and guilt, and adrenaline-fueled reflex. But in that moment's hesitation, Isaint and Spike were already gone after the girl. Nobody better. Aaron thought as he recalled the man's level-headedness and combat expertise.
The Frenchman was surprisingly swift with his sidearm, leveling it against some crazy elf child. Aaron knew better than to question such a thing in this place. Anyone not pointing a gun at the family was alright by him, and even someone pointing a gun at them might be worth a second thought if they weren't pulling the trigger. Magic was strange, and assumptions were not a luxury Aaron could afford. He himself drew his bow, loading it with a shock arrow in case Natasha needed to be brought down. He didn't like it, but splitting up the family was much too dangerous, Natasha didn't seem to be herself, and someone else might need shooting just the same. Better to have the arrow ready either way.
[spoiler]Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/321976) [3d6+12=4, 6, 1] 23
34 posts[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]
Spending Edge for reroll:
Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/322000): 9d6t5 3 [9d6t5=3, 6, 2, 1, 1, 5, 6, 2, 2]
5 successes total
[/spoiler]
Having Spike at his side proved to be the deciding factor: His dark and loud barking made people instinctively jump aside, allowing Isaint to increase his speed.
Now and again he saw glimpses of the girl's hair. Why on earth had Goodnight given her speed but no protection against mental influence? He wanted to curse, but he kept his breath. Instead he mentally commanded his Agent:
<<Susi use Agent Cluster, put trace on the taser of Natasha and track her physical location>>
With a second thought he opened another line: <<Tobis, stop goofing around and put a trace on the girl as well as the rest of the family.>>
[spoiler]
Agent action:
(assuming I have ownership):
Trace Icon: Agent Trace Icon (http://orokos.com/roll/322004): 12d6t5 5
vs. Willpower Natasha
If I do not have ownership:
If necessary:
Matrix Perception to find silent running icon:Agent Susi (Matrix Perception) (http://orokos.com/roll/322011): 12d6t5 3 [12d6t5=6, 1, 5, 4, 6, 3, 2, 2, 2, 4, 4, 3]
vs. Logic Natasha
Hack on the Fly: Two MARKs:
Teamwork check:
Teamwork Agent 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/322005): 6d6t5 1 [6d6t5=5, 3, 1, 4, 3, 2]
Teamwork Agent 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/322006): 6d6t5 2 [6d6t5=2, 3, 3, 6, 5, 1]
Teamwork Agent 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/322007): 6d6t5 2 [6d6t5=2, 5, 3, 3, 6, 3]
Teamwork Agent 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/322008): 6d6t5 2 [6d6t5=5, 5, 1, 4, 3, 3]
+4 Limit +6 Dice
Agent (Susi) Agent Susi (HotF two Marks) (http://orokos.com/roll/322009): 14d6t5 4
vs Device rating 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/322010): 4d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Isaint broke out of the crowd in time to see Natasha buried in a tender embrace by a bloody big troll standing at one of the exits of Nightside. Her horns nearly scraped the roof of the cavern overhead but of most note was the extensive thorn tattooing on her face and flowers scrimshawed into her horns. She was flanked by two whipcord thin elves with similar ink who nonchalantly surveyed Isaint as he stepped clear
“Move along overworlder, the Lady has requested Ward of the House of Flowers. We recognise a kindred spirit and are granting that boon…”
***
Al ushered the remaining family back away from the crowd, the atmosphere suddenly more hostile with the appearance of drawn weapons and what’s left of the group is glad to be able to seek shelter in the door of a nearby shop. Incense wafts out, a heady combination of jasmine and francincence. A haggard old orc lifts her creaking bones out of the chair behind the counter, her yellowed and cracked tusks grinning up at the runners
“How can House Laésal assist you fine people…?”
She has a tattoo of a thorned branch twisting down the side of her wrinkled face…it appears to be weeping tears of blood…
***
#54
-
"This girl is a minor and her parents do not consent to your actions. If she is willing, you can contact her when she turns 18.
Until then you have no right to take her. Do you really intent to take a child from her poor mother? There is no honor in such action.
Desist and there will be no need for violence."
'Especially since this gun is only loaded with Narcoject and you Fuckers will probably just evade the bullets anyway'
<<Team: Code Red - Goodnights cronies intent to abduct the daughter for recruiting as a "Ward of House of Flowers".>>
Again Isaint prayed silently to the saints to grant him their protection.
[spoiler]
AGI Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/322057): 7d6t5 0
AGI Boost (try again) (http://orokos.com/roll/322058): 6d6t5 3 [6d6t5=6, 6, 4, 3, 2, 5]
[/spoiler]
#172
-
As Spike was throating a viciously low growl from his position behind Isaint's left knee, Al was on the other side of the marketplace firmly shutting the door of the first shop they'd found to duck into.
And by all the whiskers in Moses' beard, if they hadn't walked into the inner sanctum of flower-child hippy-witchery. He half expected the old crone to hand him a poison apple, but figured right now he needed all the friends he could get.
First, though, he took three seconds to subvocalize a text into his lapel mic, sending <<If you can git here soonest, owe you a serious solid. House o' Laesal herb shop.>> to Requiem.
Then, letting his Remington hang limply from its strap and willing the astral brass knucks off his hand, he approached the old hag while taking an obviously deep whiff of the shop. Eyes watering from the pungent patchouli pastiche, he forced his most wolfish smile and said, "Hey, that's some nice ink ya got there. Whaddaya think o' mine?"
And shrugging his jacket off of his right shoulder he revealed the woman on his arm, clad only in a neckace of carnations. Obligingly, he flexed his diminutive bicep, making her hips sway back and forth.
-
[Tobbis -??? - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
Tobbis blinks as he stares at the comm message, following after the rest of the group into the witch's coven. <<Right.. let me get right on figuring out how to hack flesh and blood. Seriously.. I could put a tracer on their guns you all seemed to have given out so graciously, but on the people, you'll need a mage for that. >>
The small technomancer grumbles before glancing over the rest of the family with his technovision. He needed to see if they had anything wireless on at least.
[spoiler]42 posts added to sheet 47th post
Initiive (http://orokos.com/roll/321749): 1d6+7 8
Tweddle-Dee Diagnostics on his mask (http://orokos.com/roll/321747): 12d6t5 4
Tweddle-Dum Diagnostics on his suit (http://orokos.com/roll/321748): 12d6t5 2
Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/322225): 8d6t5 3 8d6t5: 3 [8d6t5=1, 3, 5, 6, 3, 3, 6, 4]
[/spoiler]
-
The Frenchman covered the rest of the family with Jackhammer when Al ushered them all in to the shop. His boosted olfactory senses automatically picked up on the scent and went on filter mode to not be overloaded by the perfumes.
Upon hearing ISaint, the Frenchman wanted to run out and go help him. Code red meant danger. And he couldn't afford to lose the man who knew about his past.
Sorry to sound rude and rushed, but we are the latter. House Laésa can assist us with some quick information right now. "Ward of House of Flowers", what does that mean? What can be done to our get the person the forced into their side?
The Frenchman took a good look at Al, Jackhammer and Tobbis. He cursed. Going to help ISaint and Natasha would mean thinning even more the team protecting the assets.
I gotta go help him, he said out loud, hoping to hear a nay or yay from his companions.
-
Eyes and smile still on the ork lady, Al had heard Isaint's call for help in his earbud.
Yeah, they were thin here, and things could go south any minute.
But Isaint was thinner, and things had already gone south for him.
He quickly caught the Frenchman's eye and tipped his head toward the door.
"So yeah," he continued to the ork crone, "what's a House o' Flowers? An'...ya got a back way outta here?"
-
Aaron noticed the others reacting to some apparent message from Isaint. He cursed and found his comm in his pocket, somehow turned off again. He powered it up and waited what seemed like minutes for the boot to complete. He made a mental note to purchase a new one when he had the time. These guys were probably making fun of him behind his back about his 2 year old budget model. Apparently Shadowrunners take all of their tech seriously.
As the Frenchman made his exit, Aaron did a quick headcount to make sure there was at least one man per family member. Technically there were, if you could count present company as "men". "I guess that's what people think about orks too..." he thought idly. He watched the door to make sure they weren't followed.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Sorry to sound rude and rushed, but we are the latter. House Laésal can assist us with some quick information right now. "Ward of House of Flowers", what does that mean? What can be done to our get the person the forced into their side?
The old orc woman chuckled at the flurry of questions, reaching down to stroke the head of a distressingly familiar elf child’s head where he’s crouched behind the counter
"So yeah, what's a House o' Flowers? An'...ya got a back way outta here?"
“We are the House of Flowers. ‘Ole Beth don’t think you fine gentlemen look the sort to be granted Ward, you have to the right sort, but meybe I’m misreading you? Here…” and she picks up a small twist of paper from the counter “this would be a way outta here…”
<<If you can git here soonest, owe you a serious solid. House o' Laesal herb shop.>>
<<@Al [Req]: Laésal? What are you doing with those degenerates? I’ve not been down here long but I know Hecate has some serious issues with them over some past deed. I’ll see what I can do about backing you up, no doubt some of this lot will come too when I let them know you’re dealing with the thorny types!>>
***
"This girl is a minor and her parents do not consent to your actions. If she is willing, you can contact her when she turns 18. Until then you have no right to take her. Do you really intent to take a child from her poor mother? There is no honor in such action. Desist and there will be no need for violence."
The troll laughed, a disturbingly deep honeyed sound
“Overworlders and their rules…it does not work like that down here pretty boy! She has asked for Ward and it has been granted, she is under the protection of House Laésal now. She isn’t claimed by one of the other Houses now is she? That would be a different matter entirely. I think not though, I would have heard…she will make a pretty toy. Now go away, you are boring me! If you want to live much longer down here I suggest you hire a guide, Below is not a place for the likes of you!”
***
#55
-
"So be it." Isaint looked down dejected and lowered his gun, switched the safety on and gripped it by the barrel.
"But at least let me grant her a parting gift - something to protect her from the consequences of bad decisions..."
He stopped, turning to Spike: "Shh, Spike, don't go near them, I don't want you to get hurt."
Straigthening again he made to fling the gun in his hand towards the troll: "Catch."
[spoiler]
Ok, this is a bit complicated, so bear with me:
First, Isaint's doing a bit of Fast Talk to distract the three: Con(Fast Talk) (http://orokos.com/roll/322678): 11d6t5 4 [11d6t5=5, 3, 4, 6, 5, 1, 1, 4, 5, 2, 1]
This is followed by a Palming Check to take a gas grenade from his pocket:
Palming (http://orokos.com/roll/322679): 14d6t5 4 [14d6t5=2, 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 1, 3, 6, 4, 5, 5, 2, 6]
Thanks to ambidexterity, he is not actually throwing the gun in his hand but the grenade
I'm counting here on the fact that most people just see what they believe happens.
Throwing (http://orokos.com/roll/322680): 9d6t5 4 [9d6t5=2, 3, 6, 6, 2, 5, 1, 3, 5]
Straight hit into (hopefully) waiting hands. Motion triggered it will explode as soon as it has decelerated.
Why am I doing it that complicated? So they don't use an interrupt action to flee from the gas radius. Also the automatic systems should have problems recognizing it as an attack.
The grenade is filled with DMSO+Narcoject, making it a contact vector toxin of Power 15
A generous GM might increase its power thanks to it exploding in the trolls hands
Afterwards Isaint goes on full defense and prays to all the saints... ;D
[/spoiler]
-
Al's commlink converted Requiem's text into sound for his earbud, and even as he heard the big sammie's assessment of the Flowers, the reality of their situation quickly fell into place as he spotted the kid. The kid that had put his friend down and forced them to leave him to the mercies of the freakish crowds outside. Frenchie had spared the little vermin's life, but Al wasn't sure he could. He was sick of losing mates, and sicker still of having to abandon them, even if it was in the name of their shared charge of protecting the family.
As the protective rage welled up in him, it took a real effort not to blast the kid and the old crone right there - and he didn't mind if it showed in his craggy, weather-lined face.
But that might bring the crowd in here, which, unlike these child molesters, was a threat they couldn't protect the Pelletieres from. And hell, this poor kid was probably an innocent pawn in their abominable schemes anyway.
"Oh, you ain't misread us, you perverted old whore. Sure as the remainin' seconds o' yer miserable life are lookin' numbered, we ain't the ward types. Naw, we's on the other side o' the equation. That girl is our ward. An' if we was ta lose 'er, well, then ol' Al'd have ta claim two lives fer the the one that was lost. An' like the wrathful deity of the Old Testament, I ain't gon' be no respecter o' persons."
He punctuated his threat by slapping a burn-scarred hand down flat on the countertop, trapping the old hand that fingered the packet of powdered mischief.
"So less'n you figure the addition o' one new joygirl ta yer stable's worth death by gutshot fer you an' the brat, you'll git that girl back here an' pronto."
-
It was a hard decision for The Frenchman. Upon seeing the kid he knew no one was safe in this shop. And should he go help ISaint, he would leave his other companions and the rest of the Family exposed. It was clear however that in order to succeed they had to be a unified team that could trust each others. And He trusted Al, Jackhammer and Tobbis to be able to handle the old orc aldy and the kid and keep protecting the Pelletiers.
The Frenchman sprung out of the shop like a hound out of his racing box. He figured if anyone would attempt to shoot him, speed and random change of direction was his best chance. Using all of his gymnastic abilities to avoid the crowd, he sprinted in the direction taken by ISaint.
As he closed the distance he saw the small liquid explosion splashing on the three kidnappers and Natasha. He wasn't sure what was in the grenade but recognized what ISaint had done as a smart move.
He finished his sprint with a roll that brought him in a knelled down position a meter or so away from ISaint. His gun pointing at the Kidnappers, his eyes scanning for aggressive reaction from the remaining crowd. You're covered! is all that he said to ISaint.
[spoiler]
Sprint (http://orokos.com/roll/322735): 13d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
-
"Hey there"
<<Careful, that's DMSO+Narcoject - but they might do something bad before it takes>>
Isaints free hand was already slipping again into his coat and retrieving one of his tasers.
#174
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
"So less'n you figure the addition o' one new joygirl ta yer stable's worth death by gutshot fer you an' the brat, you'll git that girl back here an' pronto."
The old lady cackles “Joygirl? We are House Laésal, you got us mixed for House Valerian? Phah, Overworlders, you know nothing! Shoot me would you? Well I guess ‘Ole Beth can’t stop ya if that’s ya plan, but ain’t it ‘eye for eye’ that your bloody book tells you? The Maid ain’t going to take kindly to that…fact nobody down ‘ere is going to let you leave if you gun me anna boy down! ‘Ere, let ‘Ole Beth give you something to ease ya mind…”
***
As the grenade sails through the air towards the troll one of the elves lithely steps into its path and catches it left handed…only to look comically surprised a moment later when it detonates the fine mist across him, Natasha and the other ‘Flowers’.
Natasha crumples immediately under the chemical assault and the two elves follow her to the ground…the troll however, whether from her more robust physique or some other means simply glares at Isaint, the chemical stew dripping slowly down her features. Her voice is still deep and beautiful but the anger is clear
“You want the toy? Fine, take her, she is broken now anyway. But know this Overworlder… I, the Poisoned Maiden of House Laésal, pronounce Bane on you and yours…all in Below will turn on you, only a Great House can shelter you now, and I doubt you will have that grace…”
The crowd mutter restlessly and begin to close ranks around the slumped forms and the towering troll, hands reach for shivs and other impliments of suffering…
“Let them go. No blood in Nightside… I have a gift for you too crusader…” and she flicks a paper sachet towards Isaint…
***
#56
-
'It's not like I'm thrilled to be here in the first place...'
Isaint did jump back before the throwing movement had ended. He had no interest to breath in some witch powder. 'Equo ne credite, Teucri'
"I am no crusader - I am a guardian. So take yours with you and we'll do likewise. Hopefully to never come back here."
<<Code: Orange. We have the girl but our welcome here has definitively ended. We have to meet up asap.>>
-
<<Roger roger, amigos, we'll meet you out there.>>
Because they sure as hell weren't staying in this shop - the dead end these flower folk had so skilfully funneled them into.
"Well, reckon it's your lucky day, granny, cuz someone on yer team done saw reason. But you kin take yer damned hippy drugs and smoke 'em where the sun don't shine."
He resumed his grip on his shotgun, called the brass knuckles back, and put his left hand on Rachel's shoulder.
"They got 'er, jist like ol' Al said they would. 'Ceptin' I'm afeard they din't make no friends among the natives doin' it. We's goin' out to link up with 'em an' then we keep movin' the hell outta this here freak sewer, so stay sharp."
As silent tears of relief started coursing down the woman's face, Al ushered her out the door.
-
Aaron smirked at Al's antics with the old shopkeeper. The man had his own way of diplomacy. And so far it seemed to have not killed anyone, so it was hard to complain too much. Aaron himself had a particular distaste for smooth-talkers and salesmen. Mostly elves. Perhaps some professional rivalry was to blame for that as Madezyne had more recently been preferring elf bodyguards with their guns and martial arts. "Hmm, don't much care for martial artists either..."
As the group moved out, Aaron nodded at the shopkeeper, smiling but avoiding prolonged eye contact. There wasn't anything that could be considered warm about the whole scenario. Magicians and brawlers both holding back invisible threats, then departing in uneasy peace. He wasn't sure what Isaint's codes were exactly, but from the minute they left the shop, Aaron knew they were having trouble. Tin cans and plastic dishes flew like artillery from the angry crowd. Aaron stayed in full body contact with the doctor the whole time, making sure to deflect any incoming objects or unwelcome hands. Being quite a bit larger than the man helped with the task. He saw Isaint and the Frenchman returning with Natasha, but perhaps a dozen creepy Nightsiders had made their way in between the split groups of runners. Aaron didn't wait for them to catch up. Instead he focused on moving to the front of their now minimal procession, clearing a path with his broad stature to allow Al, Tobbis, Rachel, and the boy to move without running directly into anyone.
-
Working their way through the hostile mob, Al was grateful for Jackhammer's size and experience as the big ork plowed a path through the crowd for them while simultaneously providing close cover for the Doc. Could be he was better suited for this phase of the job than any of the rest of them.
Much as hoped it wouldn't come to that, he couldn't help but be curious to see what the big guy could do with that monster bow he was packing.
Everyone was chanting at them and throwing things. They seemed to be constrained by some rule from overtly attacking, but all it took was for one agitated individual to go off the rails. Anyway, all the nonsensical rules they seemed to have down here hadn't stopped them from kidnapping a teenage girl and dropping a good man in the process.
Indeed, while Al kept his attention on the crowd for threats, he was also on the lookout for some sign of Solo. Going after the guy would spell death for the family, he knew, but if he could possibly spot him as they made their way out....
-
Isaint was really glad to have the Frenchman at his side - a really remarkable sentence now that he thought about it. But now that the Troll had picked up his two unconscious comrades he was left with the unmoving teenager. She wasn't heavy, but it wasn't a walk in the park either and he didn't want to administer a stim patch - the following crash would make things worse.
He waited a few moments until the gas had dissipated. His chem-resistant clothing and respirator allowed him to pick her up without himself succumbing himself to its effects.
<<Susi: Reboot equipment, run silent, smoke and mirrors full, jammer on w/wireless.>>
To the Frenchman he said: "Thanks for your timely arrival. Can you make us a path? I'll carry the girl."
#176
-
[Tobbis -??? - Current condition 7 Stun damage -
The small changeling groan, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was mostly for show however as his mask was still on. "I'm really sorry, normal people just don't understand anything about anything.. " he grumbles, looking to Orc Lady. "And I'm having my suspicions that some of these norms don't even know what most norms know."
[spoiler]42 posts added to sheet 48th post
Initiive (http://orokos.com/roll/321749): 1d6+7 8
Tweddle-Dee Diagnostics on his mask (http://orokos.com/roll/321747): 12d6t5 4
Tweddle-Dum Diagnostics on his suit (http://orokos.com/roll/321748): 12d6t5 2
Matrix Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/322225): 8d6t5 3 8d6t5: 3 [8d6t5=1, 3, 5, 6, 3, 3, 6, 4]
[/spoiler]
-
Al wasn't really tall enough to see over the crowd, but Jackhammer was, and he kept indicating the direction for the group to move in with pointed nods of his big ork head. Between that, and Spike's occasional stressed-out barking, Al figured the two halves of their number weren't more than twenty yards apart. But the way the crazy crowd acted, it felt like it may as well have been twenty miles.
Not only were they being constantly pelted with garbage and worse - were these people monkeys? - but the mob was definitely making a willful effort to cluster itself directly between them. Trying to push through was like running a gauntlet of spitting and gnashing of teeth, almost a mass assault of emotional if not physical violence.
When the men leading the two groups were finally almost to one another, and vegetable cart somehow materialized between them, and exactly at the correct angle to force them to once again split with the flow of the crowd around an intervening building. They were completely out of sight for a nervewracking couple of minutes, only their comms connecting them, confirming mutual progress.
Finally coming out on the other side of the structure, Spike lost it as he picked up Al's scent and looked like he was going to break the no-overt-violence rule that appeared to be holding both sides in rough check. It was a lucky thing - seemed even the freaks down here recognized that the dog wouldn't have the first clue about their rituals, making his threat very real.
Turned out no one wanted to get bit.
And then Al was on his knees hugging and patting the huge canine, a reunion eclipsed in its emotion by the way mother, father, and brother descended on the inert form or Natasha in Isaint's arms.
Up to then, Al had known he'd do anything he had to to keep these four alive and together. He'd known it because, well, that was how he'd decided - agreed - to live.
Now, though, he didn't know it, he felt it, felt it burning through every fiber of his being. He was getting these four safe and sound to safety if he had to burn London down to do it.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
The time for happy reunions is muted by the increasing agitation of the crowd around the group… the cries of ‘Bane’ are increasingly vicious, and by some unspoken agreement have become quieter, whispered vitriol that is somehow more unsettling than the vindictive shouts…they clearly do not like outsiders, and whatever taboos the group have broken this would seem to be a biggie…
The reduced volume does mean that the weird fluted music carries to the group that much faster and it is with some relief that they see Death approaching them, his machine gun muzzle clearing the path, flanked by two lithe dancing forms the group recognise as Satire and Wit… no Mel though, it would have been good if they’d managed to find the group’s missing comrade, the extra numbers would have been welcome…
Requiem’s voice rasps through his mask
“What is this then? You seem to have stirred the rats' nest…?”
Satire rather unhelpfully replies
“This is their doing, I do not believe Hecate will protect them from this…so what have you done to upset a Great House? Didn’t you realise that down here they are the equivalents of the Big Ten? You’ve called down an Omega Order on yourselves…hardly the smartest move…”
***
#57
-
"There was no time for smart moves or politics. Only the decision between doing the right thing and doing the easy thing.
Those degenerates where about to abduct the Doc's daughter - we did not allow it and disabled two of their thugs - non lethal. Considering what happened to Solo we let them of gently.
Thank you by the way for your support. I appreciate the gesture."
Isaint inclined his head while still trying to keep an eye their immediate vincinity.
-
"Yeah, we do appreciate it, " Al said, joining his voice to Isaint's. "Right about now, kemo sabe, the arrival of a friend of a friend is right up there with the damned Rapture in ol' Al's book. Ya sure 'nuff picked yer moment. "
And what a moment it was - the three family members, still kneeling around the fallen fourth, themselves encircled by their final five abductors-cum-protectors, and they in turn ringed by a seething mass of pallorous mole people hissing and rasping for their death.
"And no, thank you very much," the unshaven little man continued, turning to the smug clown, "we did not know the child molesters were some sort of megacorp of sewerworld, because o' course while we got the balls ta pertect these folks from Saeder-Krupp an' the whole damned limey druid corps, well, natch we woulda jist said, 'Hey, sorry they got yer girl there, Doctor and Mrs Pelletiere, but, well, you understand, we's jist gon' leave 'er down here ta be sex trafficked ta underdweller freaks, cuz, you know, they's from the House o' Fuckin' Flowers. '"
He flicked a burning cigarette at the crowd, daring them.
"But it is what it is, mime girl, so I will ask you, I will pay you, I will fuckin' beg you," and then his voice slumped, his last rage spent, along with his energy, "show us the damned door."
-
"And while we are at that, would it be possible to get... I don't know... some kind of counter statement out? Somehow making it clear that all flower followers who chose to get close to us will receive the death penalty.
We probably won't get the support of one of the other houses, but if they send people our way maybe we can encourage an other house to exploit this to their advantage so they are forced to pull them back or can't spare to many of them.
As you said this is a political thing. If we can make it more opportune to leave us in peace than going after us I'm all for it."
Isaint nodded in the direction they came.
"But most important of course is, as my comrade here has already said, getting to the door out of here and to the surface."
-
I'm all for that little politic game. We expose their doing and watch the other houses reaction. And by watching I mean from a far distance and above ground by all mean. Asap.
The Frenchman's gun was getting cold. He had been that close to just put a bullet in the Troll Flower's head. And could use of few more on the pathetic crown that was brainlessly cursing them out. But after second thoughts they were probably not worth the expanse. iSaint had done a good job at minimizing the casualties.
His eyes caught the ones of a woman in the crowd, first thinking it was Mel. She wasn't as beautiful but she had her charms for sure. In her eyes he could see her hatred and disdain for him and the rest of the team. Emotions born from ignorance and cultural propaganda. It reminded him of those men who were throwing stones at a poor woman in Turkey when her only crime was to have...
The Frenchman's face totally changed expression. An incredulous feeling rose in him. Turkey. He just remembered something. A scene in Turkey -where ISaint had mentioned they had meet- that no one ever mentioned to him...
He turned to ISaint: When this is over you and I really have to talk.
He looked one more time at the women on the crowd and sent her a wink and a thank you with his lips. He had no bad feeling for her. Only pity. She didn't know any better.
-
"With pleasure. But hopefully it won't be in the recovery room of a shadow clinic. As things are going we might head towards a grade A cluster fuck. I really should have gotten a few drones for fire support. But what's done is done. Time to face the music."
Isaint looked expectantly towards Satire and what she would say about his proposal.
-
All that Al could do as he watched the rabid crowd and waited on the mimes was mutter, "Headed towards a grade A cluster fuck?"
Then, kneeling by Natasha along with the family, he figured they weren't going anywhere fast with her out cold. Unslinging his medkit, he flipped on its wifi and got to work.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:25, Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Satire cocked her head to consider Isaint’s suggestion, her musical voice at odds with the crying mask she presented to the world,
“Well it could work, if you can get someone from Below to instigate it…you seem to have lost your guide and I suspect there aren’t many more queuing up for the role after you got a Bane landed on you. What, you thought we were from Below? We walk many paths but we don’t come from here…”
After climbing a final set of stairs the group feel the crowd fall back and the very welcome murder clowns surround them. After their earlier antics they are considerably more subdued, and clearly focused on setting up whatever it is for their performance that night. From the looks, well masked heads tilted in their direction, the group are a distraction…impossible to say whether that is a good or a bad thing…
Hecate floats majestically (or pretentiously depending on perspective) in to view
“Perhaps you should have let us help you when we offered before and this could have been avoided…”
***
#58
-
What Al wanted to say but didn't: "Well, as awe-inspirin' as ya think ya are, seems none of us had ever heard of ya, an' crazy us, we don't jist trust any Tom, Dick or Harry we meet wearin' masks inna haunted catacombs."
What Al did say: "Thing is, back when we first met, we had a guide, an' while we suspected she was not fully seated on 'er rocker, we did not yet know she was well an' truly batshit unstable. So yeah, hindsight bein' twenny-twenny an' all... My dear ol' ma did always tell me I needed to learn ta take yes fer an answer. Shame we didn't know at the time what a stand-up buncha mimes y'all were. But Req speaks highly of ya, an' now we comes to ya hat in hand, which I'll admit, in my own laconic sorta way, don't hardly come easy. My associates run what we think might be a useful idear past Miss Parody there, an' we'd be obliged fer any help with that. But above all an' anythin' else, if'n y'all could just point us toward the closest way outta here, hell, even if it leads straight up into the damned Tower o' London, we'll take it."
-
The Frenchman only scrutinized his surrounding, wary of those clowns getting ready.
The mimes kept on talking and he laughed at the irony. By now everyone had asked to be lead out. They had to make their decision, because he had no intention on staying at the same spot for long anymore.
-
Isaint nodded at Al's words: "Well said. Experience is what you get just after you would have needed it. So well met and thank you for your support. We are severely pared down from what our group has been before. But as we say in Germany: Nur die Harten kommen in den Garten.
Full disclosure on our part: We not only have that Bane thing hanging above us, we also snubbed the Neo-Druid Society and can expect the start of retaliation in about..."
He checked his chronometer "... 15 minutes or so, when the projecting mage realizes we aren't in the market anymore. So yeah, we are not just a bundle of trouble, we are the motherload of "you shouldn't be here right now".
So in conclusion: Jalla, jalla."
#180
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:30, Leaving Nightside Market, London Below, London]
"...So in conclusion: Jalla, jalla."
Suiting deeds to words the group hustle out of Nightside post haste. Hecate, clearly reluctant to disrupt her impending performance, assigned the group two warrior troubadours, Frisk and Tabor, to lead the way…after establishing that the group would really prefer not to emerge into the middle of a riot but would prefer to avoid the anarchy of Earl’s Court they settled on an exit on the north bank of the Thames.
Isaint took point for the group with the Harlequins dancing ahead, that left the family to support the staggering Natasha with Tobbis in their midst, the Frenchman and Al on the flanks and the more robust Jackhammer to bring up the rear guard…
The few people in the tunnels with the group seem wary and curious but not overly hostile, perhaps word of the Bane has not had a chance to spread this far yet. They tend to pass by on the far side of the passageway to avoid the overworlders but most nod in some sort of greeting…
…the inevitable attack, when it comes, is sudden but not unexpected… a shouted incomprehensible word from one of the passers-by triggers the assault…a barrier suddenly widens out of nothing in the midst of the group, the crisp edges slicing through the air to provide a glowing translucent wall at an angle across the whole of the tunnel…this is immediately followed by a wave of minor projectiles, three from people on the leading edge of the barrier and two from behind…
***
#59
-
[spoiler]
Surprise test (http://orokos.com/roll/324680): 19d6t5 9
Ok, no -10 on ini.
Ini (http://orokos.com/roll/324681): 16+4d6 30
Trying to identify the mage causing the barrier: Int 7+ Perception(Visual) 8 +3 Wireless active Vision Enhancement 3
Perception: See the Mage (http://orokos.com/roll/324682): 18d6t5 9 [18d6t5=6, 6, 3, 5, 4, 5, 1, 5, 1, 3, 6, 4, 5, 2, 6, 4, 1, 5]
Edit: Just saw it's alchemy
Agility Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/324684): 7d6t5 6 [7d6t5=3, 5, 6, 6, 5, 6, 6]
Ok, wow. +4 to AGI
Rapid Draw: Rifle + Reaction [Physical] (3) (http://orokos.com/roll/324685): 17d6t5 5
Shoot: Agi 9 + Rifle 8 + Smartlink 1 - 4 (Vitals Shot)
Shoot (Vitals) (http://orokos.com/roll/324687): 14d6t5 6 [14d6t5=5, 1, 3, 1, 1, 5, 6, 5, 4, 6, 4, 2, 2, 6]
13 P AP -7 + Successes
Edit:
Also a resistance roll:
Body 5 + Chemical Protection 6 + Respirator 6 (if inhalation based)
Chemical Resistance (http://orokos.com/roll/324688): 17d6t5 5 [17d6t5=2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 4, 6, 6, 3]
I'm spending edge on that one.Chemical Resistance (Edge) (http://orokos.com/roll/324689): 12d6t5 6
So 11 resist total
Barrier Resist (http://orokos.com/roll/324691): 8d6t5 3[8d6t5=4, 5, 2, 2, 1, 1, 6, 6]
Scratch that. Forgot AP -7, so only structure with one success
Barrier collapses for the round and attacker gets 12 + successes P damage
[/spoiler]
Isaint's danger sense gave him the split second warning he needed: While he still called out for the saint's power his rifle leapt into his hand. He had the gun up and was already aiming at the head of one of the attacker on the far side of the barrier
With a loud boom the rifle fired and disrupted the magic wall.
-
Al was on internal air before he'd fully registered what was going down.
By the time the tank was feeding his lungs, he knew there was a magical attack and some mole people nearby were throwing things in earnest. Moving to keep himself between them and the family, he fired from the hip at whoever looked best armored while yelling the Tamasheq for 'kill' to Spike, who rushed the closest one.
In between deafening gunshots multiplying around them as the team opened up, Al's glossalolic voodoo mutterings could be heard whispering down the passage as he fought.
-
The instant the barrier appeared to block half of the group, The Frenchman swirled, brandishing his gun, ready to shoot at anyone he'd identify as threat.
His internal tank kicked in to protect him from any inhalation toxin and he screamed at the Doc and his daughter to get down on the floor. He trusted Jackhammer would also cover them.
An expert eye quickly identify their assailants, whom now outnumbered the two protectors. He had enough being cautious. He tried dodging what was thrown at him, making sure nothing would get to the Doc or Natasha and fired with only one intention: to kill.
-
Even as Al watched Spike's black bulk barrel into one assailant, even as he pulled the trigger to send armor-piercing death wending its way towards another, his voodoo chant caught in his throat, strangled mid-mutter as what felt like a good tablespoon of...
...that one weekend back in the Big Easy he and some of the boys from the cannery had gone off to the Zombie Cajun Hot Sauce Festival held annually in City Park down on Palm. He must have tried about two dozen scorchers that day, and after that he'd been unable to taste anything for a week, and using the can had been like fire ants crawling out his ass for days after that. The worst one had been Voodoo Chili Sauces'...
...Porcus Infernum, only without the bacon undercurrent. And then it hit the mucous around his cybereyes and it was like his whole head was on fire. Dammit if he hadn't been peppered and good. He hoped Spike would take out his man on pure momentum and fury, because in about two and a half seconds, that'd be it for the dog's super-sensitive schnazz.
Hurt like a damned son...of...a...BITCH. He might have buckled then and there if he hadn't spotted poor Rachel coughing, hacking, a two-foot trail of snot already dangling from her nose, eyes swollen shut, but still wrapping her hands around William's face in a vain effort to protect her son. But even as the cold chill of his fury frosted over some of the sizzling heat around his eyes and seeping into his ears, he knew he couldn't last much longer if he stayed in the cloud...
-
[spoiler]
Ok, more toxin resistance
My earlier roll will have to be amended. I forgot Will but added respirator and chem protection. So my total goes down by one
Chemical Resistance: 17d6t5 5 [17d6t5=2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 4, 6, 6, 3]
Luckily that doesn't change the edge reroll, so I still get 11 to resist the pepperpunch completely
So, resistance two: Aisa
Bod+Wil+Respirator 16 vs. 15...
That can only end well
Resist Aisa (http://orokos.com/roll/325521): 16d6t5 2
Ok, I'm totally going to be disoriented for
duration Aisa (http://orokos.com/roll/325522): 20+2d6 25 minutes
Resistance three: Dopadrine
Bod+Wil+Chemical Protection 16 vs. 20...
hahaha...
Resist Dopadrine (http://orokos.com/roll/325523): 16d6t5 3
Ok so starting next round I'll have -1 and if we are still fighting in round 3 I'll have -3 total.
I can't wait for my armor with chemical seal.
Edit: And thanks to the fallen barrier defense against CS
Resist CS (http://orokos.com/roll/325979): 16d6t5 2 [16d6t5=3, 6, 4, 2, 4, 3, 6, 2, 1, 2, 1, 4, 2, 2, 1, 1]
Spending Edge for Reroll:Resist CS (http://orokos.com/roll/325980): 14d6t5 5 [14d6t5=3, 3, 1, 1, 2, 2, 6, 1, 5, 5, 1, 5, 2, 5]
[/spoiler]
Only after that instinctive shot Isaint noticed the clouds of poison that those attackers spread.
'We've got to get out of this cloud.'
With a jump and a roll, Isaint moved clear to the nearest patch of clear air. Despite his equipment he could taste metal in his mouth. 'Not good. This will get worse before it gets better.'
Loud he called to the family on his side of the barrier: "MOVE TO ME!"
While he brought up his rifle for another attack.
[spoiler]
Isaint goes on full defense, dropping his Ini to 10.
Edit: Forgot I raised my reaction. So one more dice to add at the end
Dodge rolls:
Dodge 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/325524): 21d6t5 6[21d6t5=6, 3, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 5, 3, 2, 6, 5, 1, 4, 4, 6, 4, 5, 3, 4, 4]Dodge 1 +1 (http://orokos.com/roll/325569): 1d6t5 0 [1d6t5=1]
Dodge 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/325525): 21d6t5 7[21d6t5=3, 1, 4, 3, 4, 5, 1, 1, 4, 4, 4, 5, 4, 3, 6, 5, 2, 6, 6, 2, 6]Dodge 2 +1 (http://orokos.com/roll/325570): 1d6t5 0 [1d6t5=4]
Dodge 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/325526): 21d6t5 10[21d6t5=2, 6, 5, 2, 2, 5, 1, 1, 5, 3, 1, 2, 6, 6, 4, 6, 3, 5, 5, 1, 5] Dodge 3 +1 (http://orokos.com/roll/325571): 1d6t5 0 [1d6t5=3]
Dodge 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/325527): 21d6t5 7[21d6t5=6, 2, 6, 6, 5, 4, 5, 4, 4, 4, 3, 3, 3, 3, 5, 2, 5, 3, 3, 1, 1] Dodge 4 +1 (http://orokos.com/roll/325572): 1d6t5 1 [1d6t5=6]
Dodge 5 (http://orokos.com/roll/325528): 21d6t5 9[21d6t5=5, 4, 5, 3, 6, 1, 5, 2, 2, 4, 4, 6, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 2, 5] Dodge 5 +1 (http://orokos.com/roll/325573): 1d6t5 1 [1d6t5=5]
Just knock off however many dice I lose
Edit: Since they all seem to use inescapable AOE there is no sense in Full Defense
With Ini 20
Free Action: Adrenaline Boost +2 Ini
Simple Action: Boost BOD:
Boost BOD (http://orokos.com/roll/325529): 7d6t5 2 [7d6t5=3, 2, 4, 4, 5, 1, 6]
Simple Action: Shoot another opponent in the head on our side of the barrier with a short burst:
Shoot Enemy (Vitals) (http://orokos.com/roll/325530): 14d6t5 3[14d6t5=6, 4, 4, 2, 2, 5, 3, 1, 4, 4, 1, 4, 3, 5
13 P AP -7 -2 to Dodge +3 Successes.
Ini 12:
Simple: Aim
Simple: Short Burst Enemy 2 Vitals Shot #2 (http://orokos.com/roll/325974): 15d6t5 5[15d6t5=4, 2, 5, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2, 6, 6, 6, 1, 6, 1, 4]
13 P AP -7 -2 to Dodge +5 Successes.
Ini 2:
Simple: Aim
Simple: Short Burst Enemy 3 Vitals Shot #3 (http://orokos.com/roll/325975): 15d6t5 6 [15d6t5=3, 6, 2, 6, 2, 5, 6, 6, 5, 3, 3, 1, 4, 3, 1]
13 P AP -7 -2 to Dodge +6 Successes.
Ammo remaining: 10
Edge remaining: 2
Drain 1: Drain Adrenaline Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/325977): 10d6t5 3
No Drain
[/spoiler]
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Attack of the Underfreaks - Rear Guard - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
Aaron sees the shield divide the group and moves to do what he does best. Even as he does, some kind of chemical agent spreads around them, threatening his lungs and his skin at the same time. He slams a panic button on his comm to activate the chemical seal on his body armor. "We'll see how bad this gets." he thinks in anticipation, noting the others are largely unprotected. But he can't do anything about that, and he can do something about the magic wall. His fist shatters the spell force into vanishing ether just as the others seem to be hit by the gas.
[spoiler]Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/325645) [3d6+12=3, 5, 3] 23
Unarmed vs Barrier (http://orokos.com/roll/325646) [15d6t5=5, 1, 2, 6, 3, 6, 3, 3, 6, 4, 3, 5, 3, 5, 3] 6
Toxin Resistance, if needed (http://orokos.com/roll/325649) [12d6t5=1, 4, 6, 5, 3, 3, 2, 1, 5, 5, 1, 4] 4
[/spoiler]
-
His Internal Tank had kicked in but the Frenchman could feel the burn of the toxin on his skin and getting to his eyes. He tried to focus and remain calm has the toxin attacked his system, but his attempt remained vain.
[spoiler]
Toxin resistance Edged:
CS Toxin Resistance (contact) BOD+WIL Edged (http://orokos.com/roll/326005): 15d6t5 6
3 Stun (-1 DP) / resist nausea incapacitating effect - double the stun modifier to -2 / -2 DP to all rolls for next 10min
If I'm correct, this will happen at the end of this turn, so still have the dice on pass 10)
[/spoiler]
He could have used the protection from his coat, but he had given it to the Doc, and that was certainly a good thing for the older man. Natasha, poor thing will just probably pass out again, with a difficult wake up.
Not bothering double checking if his first target's head burst or not, he moved on to another undergrounder, not caring that this person throw something or not. He shot at the man's as his hand started to get shaky.
[spoiler]
Pistol Called Shot: Vitals (20-2) (http://orokos.com/roll/326012): 18d6t5 4
Not as effective already! those eyes are getting watery!
DV10+net hits AP-5 (APDS)
[/spoiler]
-
It was like someone had opened some long disused floodgates behind his tear ducts, and everything swam in his vision as the flow washed over his cybereyes. But he saw his first target drop like his legs had been cut off as the depleted core of Al's slug punched through his sternum and out the other side, and then he heard Isaint yell at the Doc and Natasha to get moving. Roger that! He shifted his weight, poised to follow right behind them. But he had enough split seconds to watch Spike latch onto one freak's inner thigh, and then the guy's head explode with Isaint's next shot, and still no movement from behind him. He glanced back to see mother and son completely overcome by the poisons.
Shit.
Well, there was nothing for it - he wasn't leaving them to these degenerates for anything. Taking a knee beside them, he lined up on the next mole person, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger.
-
Isaint's biomonitor had picked up on what had happened.
Good news: The neutralizing agents within his respirator and armor had done a very good job of stopping the Capsaicin and the CS from affecting him.
Bad news: His blood showed increased concentration of drug like substances affecting his heart rate, blood pressure and nerve system.
He had an antidote loaded in his auto injector, but that was specifically against Neuro-Stun.
Isaint noticed all that only subconsciously - he was much to concentrated on pumping very expensive ammunition into the faces of their attackers now that he had moved away from the group.
'Keep it together. This too shall pass...'
#183
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:30, Leaving Nightside Market, London Below, London]
With calm and professional detachment Isaint begins popping heads, just like targets at the fair, even the poor unfortunates who may just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time judging by the beginnings of their frantic attempts to escape the fracas…they appear to be moving in slomo compared to the lightening reflexes displayed by the adept…
Al and the Frenchman also add to the fire raining down on the Flowers, a young girl, only slightly older than Natasha, crumpling around the armour piercing slug impacting below her left breast, and an aging orc, feral grin wiped away with the left half of his face…
Frisk ran her blade through her startled attacker, it burst from his back like an obscene new appendage, but was rewarded by some sort of flechette detonation that left her bloodied but undaunted… Tabor is more careful, his monofilament line caressing the person running at him, rendering him down into component parts…
To the rear of the group one of the attackers begins to flee in terror but the other one pulls the pin on a spherical object and launches a swathe of hot smoke into the centre of the group to add to the confusion…
***
#60
-
[spoiler]
Ini round 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/327413): 16+4d6 34
I'll again activate Adrenaline Boost for 36, so there is a possible interrupt action with -5
I don't have wound mali - yet. But -1 to all actions.
Simple Action: Activate qi-focus
Assensing (http://orokos.com/roll/327417): 7d6t5 1 [7d6t5=1, 2, 1, 6, 3, 2, 1]
Simple Action: Shoot Grenade Guy
AGI 9 + Rifle 8 + 1 Smartlink -1 Drug -2 Astrally Perceiving
Shoot grenade thrower (http://orokos.com/roll/327531): 17d6t5 43[17d6t5=3, 3, 1, 4, 1, 4, 4, 5, 4, 5, 1, 5, 2, 1, 1, 3, 6]
12 P AP -7 + Successes
[/spoiler]
'That won't save you'
With a moment of concentration he opened his third eye. Instantly his normal vision was replaced by the vibrant auras of the surrounding people.
It was hard to shoot like this - his smartlink non functional and his gun barely visible. Still he lined up the shot and pulled the trigger on the grenade thrower.
#184
-
Spike had attacked his second target the same as the first, lunging straight for the inner thigh. Tormented as the dog was by the cocktail of poisons, he didn't need to see to clamp down and hold on. He didn't let go until his foe was twitching uncontrollably with shock, lifeblood gushing from a shredded femoral artery. Then, however, battle won, blind, and in confused agony, the animal surrendered to a vain attempt to clear his eyes and nose, rubbing his face against the floor, nearby corpses, anything.
Al's own vision was clouded by tears and now dense smoke that blocked the shreds of ambient light is cybereyes depended on. He staggered over to the dog, wrapped one arm around his neck and other around his middle, and dragged the squirming beast until they were clear of the smoke, counting on the rest of the team to do the same with the incapacitated family.
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Attack of the Underfreaks - Rear Guard - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor - chemical seal]
Although he brought down the magic wall, chemicals and smoke now overwhelmed the group. Aaron moved to pick up the two closest family members--which ended up being the doctor and his daughter--and charged forward to clear the smoke.
[spoiler]
pick up family members (http://orokos.com/roll/327850) [18d6t5=4, 4, 6, 1, 5, 1, 3, 3, 1, 6, 5, 2, 3, 6, 1, 6, 4, 3] 6
unarmed, multiple targets, called shot (knock down), edge (http://orokos.com/roll/327852) [16d6t5=1, 5, 2, 6, 3, 6, 1, 6, 3, 5, 2, 5, 1, 6, 2, 1] 7
rule of 6 (http://orokos.com/roll/327853) [4d6t5=1, 6, 1, 6] 2
rule of 6 (http://orokos.com/roll/327861) [2d6t5=5, 5] 2
11 total
38 posts
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:30, Leaving Nightside Market, London Below, London]
The foe are whittled down within seconds of the engagement beginning but as Al dragged Spike out of the smoke and the clawing gas he was somewhat disconcerted to see a new threat…Frisk had torn the mask from her face which is revealed in its typical elven beauty but marred with sweat and a froth of red tinged saliva about her mouth… her blade takes Tabor from behind and his rather surprised head comes bounding towards Al without the rest of his body which slumps bonelessly onto the underworlder he had dispatched moments before…while Al is wrapping his head around this new development Frisk has catapulted herself forwards in a gravity defying lunge and her new target being Al’s own distinguished visage…
Isaint’s shot is marred by the drugs coursing through his system and the difficulties of sighting down a gun that is barely visible in the astral…his target, a fellow adept gauging by his aura, blurs sideways out of the path of the projectiles…he is laughing, an unhinged sound in this already crazy place, as he throws something more at the family grouping being protected by Jackhammer’s giant form…then he turns to flee…
***
#61
-
[spoiler]
Ini 26:
One parting shot at the adept. And with shot I mean salvo
Salvo @ Adept (http://orokos.com/roll/329646): 14d6t5 4
12 P AP -7 -5 to dodge
4 shots remaining
Declare Pre-emptive Dodge -5
Ini 11
Free Action: Drop weapon in sling
Simple Action: Perceive in Detail: Assensing Frisk: Assensing (http://orokos.com/roll/329647): 7d6t5 2
Simple Action: Activate Weapon Focus
Ini 1
Free Action: Deactivate astral perception focus
Complex Action: Charge Frisk: Unarmed Teamwork Check
AGI 9 + Unarmed 4 + 3 Weapon Focus +1 Charge -1 Drug +1 friend in melee
Charge (http://orokos.com/roll/329650): 17d6t5 2
[17d6t5=4, 2, 5, 1, 3, 2, 2, 3, 1, 3, 6, 2, 3, 1, 3, 2, 4]
Don't do drugs kids, they'll fuck you up...
[/spoiler]
"You can run on for a long time..." 'sooner or later he's gonna cut you down'
Isaint fired again, this time squeezing the trigger decidedly longer, sending a hail of very expensive bullets towards the fleeing adept.
He registered the flurry of movement to his right - one of their guides had turned traitor or so it seemed.
Not trusting their environment he concentrated for a moment to get a reading on the woman's aura - was she possessed, hexed or simply a turn coat?
Never mind. The betrayal burned and he felt how his cestus burst in flame while his subconscious had made its decision.
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Attack of the Underfreaks - On the Move - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor - chemical seal]
It wasn't ideal--Aaron could only carry two bodies. The family was as good as unconscious. Probably a bit worse actually, as the girl kept flailing around. The doctor just cringed and muttered something to himself; Aaron couldn't tell if it was a prayer or profanity. Gun shots and chaos continued behind him, but Aaron just focused on one thing: running.
[spoiler]
running! (http://orokos.com/roll/329850) [12d6t5=6, 1, 6, 3, 4, 1, 5, 3, 5, 3, 5, 5] 6
[/spoiler]
-
Fast then slow.
It often went down that way, when the breathstealing speed of the fight gave way to an almost lethargic pace as the voodoo gods granted Al clarity in the maelstrom.
He'd just pulled Spike clear of the worst of the gas and smoke. The dog was rubbing its face frantically against any surface it could find - in this case a handy corpse. Jackhammer was hefting two family members. Girl mime cut boy mime's head off. Isaint was giving the last mole-person a lead tailwind. The head was falling. Al let go of Spike. The head bounced once. Al opened his mouth to shout a warning. The head bounced again. The girl mime launched herself into the air. No need to shout - he was the target. One final bounce - poor feller probably had little mimes at home to feed. She was still in the air. Her mask was off. Even with the froth coming out of her mouth, Al couldn't help wanting to do her just a little bit. Her jump reached its apogee. He shifted his weight, hands empty. The head rolled off a dead body. She was drugged - he couldn't kill her. The head came to a halt, roll stopped by one pointy ear. She was on the descent, weapon flashing. Things were speeding back up. Don't blink. Drugged, she telegraphed big. He slipped the downward arc of her blade, then ducked her backhanded follow-up. Isaint was coming in fast. She pressed the attack, blade in constant motion, the third swing so close to his ear he heard it, then a fourth swipe across his midsection laying his yellowing T-shirt open..
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:30, Leaving Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Isaint’s blast winged the fleeing Flower and he stumbled and fell…Al ducked back out of the swing of Frisk’s blade by a whisker feeling the sudden cold blast of air as his meagre vestments became a little more ventilated…as if that wasn’t bad enough he felt the fragging corpse next to him try to grasp at his leg…with a strangled gasp through part of its missing throat and face it managed one word “Bane” and suddenly the air around Al and Spike is filled with stinging whirling flechettes…
***
#62
-
With his eyes watering and skin burning from the pepper spray, the Frenchman had a hard time understanding what was Frisk's deal, but the head rolling of the other mime was clear on one thing, She would unleash everything she had on Al. The Frenchman didn't recalled being in any worst condition, but he had to prove if not to himself he was the best marksman here.
He held his breath and shot at Frisk's deadly blade.
Then he ran toward the group to help neutralized the berserk elf.
[spoiler]
Initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/330067): 14+2d6 20
Attempting a Blast out of hands called shot on frisk's weapon.
20 -4 (total mods from pepper punch) -2 (Called Shot) - 6 (Heavy Smoke) + 7 (edge) = 15
Called Shot: Blast out of hands (http://orokos.com/roll/330066): 15d6t5 7
Charge Frisk (http://orokos.com/roll/330069): 12d6t5 6
[/spoiler]
-
Delayed by his short aura scan, Isaint followed close behind the Frenchman to subdue the crazy mime.
He had seen no trace of magic possession or influence, but her aura was aflame with uncontrolled rage.
Isaint was strong but only just above average for an ork. Now they had to stop a berserker without hurting her to much in the process.
He dropped the rifle in its sling and charged the elf. He tried to gain control of one of her arms. He had just enough mental capacity free to call out to Jackhammer:
"Drop the cargo and help us subdue her."
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Attack of the Underfreaks - Coming Back {2/2} - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor - chemical seal]
Aaron stopped at the call for help. He looked behind him to see something he really never could have imagined: a rabid mime girl fighting off three grown men. With a sigh he looked around, then put down the doctor and his daughter, moving back towards the fray.
[spoiler]
running! (http://orokos.com/roll/330303) [9d6t5=2, 5, 4, 1, 2, 3, 2, 3, 4] 1
[/spoiler]
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Attack of the Underfreaks - Coming Back {2/3} - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor - chemical seal]
Once he arrived, Aaron threw his bulk towards the rapid mime in an attempted takedown. This is what he had always been good at, and all those years of wrestling in the alleys was about to pay off all over this elf.
[spoiler]
unarmed (http://orokos.com/roll/330496) [20d6t5=3, 2, 2, 5, 4, 2, 4, 3, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 4, 5, 5, 4, 1, 5] 6 + 11 Strength
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:30, Tunnels beyond Nightside Market, London Below, London]
Frisk moves with devastating speed, the chameleon sensors on her body glove barely able to keep up with her seemingly impossible gyrations. As her blade descends on Al, the Frenchman’s timely shot send it spinning away behind her and without pausing for breath Frisk vaults Al and expresses her ire with her new target by letting fly with the customised hand cannon in her left hand, the sabotted round howling in the darkness, whilst the right produces a wicked looking knife in an eye blink…
***
#63
-
Seeing his teammates closing in on her, Al made a point of staying within her reach as he dodged, occupying her tunnel-visioned attention in hopes they could get the drop on her. She was faster than he'd counted on, though, and half a second later her attacks had driven him off balance. Unable to regain his stance fast enough, he saw her sword arc down toward him and his life was already flashing before his eyes when spranng it flew out of her hand. He wasn't sure what happened to her next - he didn't even have time be surprised he was still alive before some hamburger-faced mole-person went Romero on him, snatching at his leg. Asshole gave himself away, though. Bad guys always had to gloat - the moment the loser wheezed out his Flower-freak buzzword "Bane" Al flashed back for some reason on what he'd seen happen two seconds earlier to Frisk and Tabor. He threw himself flat atop Spike's panicked form just as the dead man blew himself up in a deadly flurry of something that could only be bad news.
It was soooo tempting, then, to just lie there - but that whirling dervish of a keeb girl was like to cut somebody for sure if they didn't get her tied her down. He jumped back up to help his co-workers rein the filly in.
-
Isaint did his best to get a grip on the harlequin girl, but the foaming mad anger couldn't be contained. All he could do was to force her to make a few steps, unbalancing her. He wanted to call out to Jackhammer again, but something in his periphery caught his attention.
A man in camouflage uniform stood there scowling. An impossible large bullet wound crested his chest.
'Oh god, not now.'
Isaint knew that this had to be a drug induced hallucination. Stabsfeldwebel Müller was dead - killed during a hostage rescue.
'I haven't thought of you in ages - why now for gods sake?'
Isaint stumbled for a second as his vision blurred. His bio-monitor showed elevated puls rate and a worrying high concentration of foreign chemicals in his blood. The drugs had arrived in full force.
His vision blurred for a moment and the dead man was again in front of him.
Reality distracted him as Jackhammer finally arrived and tried to get the woman in a bear hug.
Isaint let go and reached in his pocket to produce a set of handcuffs. With shaking fingers he tried to get again a hold of the mimes flailing hand
[spoiler]
Ini Round 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/330357): 16+4d6 27
Free Action: Rapid Draw handcuffs
Complex Action: Trying to apply handcuffs.
I have no idea what test you need for that, so I'm guessing unarmed will have to do:
AGI 9 + 4 Unarmed -3 Drugs= 10 dice
Handcuffing (http://orokos.com/roll/330553): 10d6t5 4 [10d6t5=4, 3, 4, 6, 4, 2, 6, 6, 5, 1]
[/spoiler]
-
The sound of his bullet on the metal blade sounded like sweet music to him. But to his surprise the Elf girl in all her grace flipped around a heavy revolver in her hand and probably some other sharp tool in the other. With his only desire being to tear his face away to stop the burning feeling, his concern was much more on the gun than the hand-to-hand weapon she may have drawn.
The loud shot pierced the air and came grazing his shoulder, the protection of his Chameleon armor taking on and absorbing the full hit. It hurt like hell, but was somehow happy it wasn't his right shoulder.
Then with inhuman speed the Elf mime was already on him, the blade he had decided to ignore slashing and thrusting at him. With the hot smoke around him and the berserk elf skillfully trying to "ventilate' him, he thought for a split second that place was going to be were it all ended.
Yet his instinct, skills and sheer luck kicked in. A block with his right forearm, a deflection with left hand, an amazingly timed duck and great footwork to keep his stance and Frisk just couldn't land any hit.
The Frenchman had her wrist in his hand. His grip as strong as his augmented strength could allow. He tried to use his weight to pull her so slightly out of balance when he noticed Al and ISaint had joined on the action.
It would take four of the strongest people he knew to subdue the crazed Elf. Don't do drugs, kids. This shit was crazy!
-
The hand cuffs snapped shut not a second too soon. The elf was slippery like an eel. Jackhammer could barely hold on, but to Isaints relief, the massive runner proved to be a match for the crazed mime. With flying haste, Isaint produced a packet of plastic restraints gave a third each to the Frenchman and Al and immediately began to capture her legs. First the thighs to restrict her range of movement. Then the knees to deny her leverage and finally the calves to stop her kicking.
And still she thrashed around - only the sturdy fabric of her armor prevented the ties from drawing blood. Instead a very nasty popping sound could be heard.
"Damn, she dislocated her own shoulder. Hold her just a bit longer. We need to secure her legs to her hands for a hog tie. And add additional restraints to her hands. With enough time you can slip out of those cuffs - especially if you are willing to dislocate your own thumb."
The last words were a bit slurred. Isaint blinked to clear his vision. Again the mortally wounded man stood before him."Go away, you aren't real." Isaint muttered.
'You know why I am here Pankratz. You fucked up - then and now.'
There was nothing I could do. I did what I could.
But it was not enough. You didn't spot the ambush. You lost us our guide and now the hostages will die.
They aren't dead - the family is not dead - we'll save them.
And all you had to do, was leaving your brothers in arms behind.
SHUT UP!
Isaint realized to late that he had screamed at a phantom. He quickly got back to his feet, leaving the other three to add more restraints. "I'll go get the family."
The smoke was still thick and Isaint activated again his focus to find the mother and the son so he could guide them out of this chemical hell towards the rest of their family.
#188
-
Al pounced back into the fray just as the other three men piled on top of the hell-mime. Even under all their weight she threatened to flail free, and he dove in, adding what weight and muscle he had to that of his three larger companions. Isaint got the first pair of cuffs on her, but that was far from the end of it - he handed out flex cuffs and the two humans and two orks trussed every joint they could find, Al topping it off with a second pair of handcuffs on her wrists before they used all the power they had to bring her ankles up to her hands and hogtie her.
Only then did Al have time to even notice how badly his nose, throat, and the soft tissue around his cybereyes were still burning. And that was when Isaint freaked out just a little, and Al wondered what sort of chemical nastiness his internal air had spared him. Everyone looked like shit but the huge Jackhammer, who was suddenly all chemsealed up. Good on him. Little Decker-Dog was down though - Al rushed over to check him - still breathing, vitals stable, but out cold and sweating.
Al dragged the little guy out of the coalescing chemical combo cloud, then pulled his canteen and grabbed Spike around the neck with one arm while sloshing the animal's eyes and snout with water. That would help with the pepper, but there was nothing Al could do for whatever else was in him - he was barking sporadically at nothing at all.
They'd gotten their asses kicked, and he had no doubt these miserable Flower types had more suicide pawns where those had come from. "Get the family on their feet - don't care if they's pukin' they guts out. We gotta move right now, an' we already gotta shlep clown-gal an' Tobbis. We go the same direction we was goin', an' hopefully Sheena of the Jungle here'll come to her ever-lovin' senses afore we git lost."
And with that he pulled the whining Spike along by the scruff of the neck with one hand, picked up the sword that had almost killed him with the other, and moved to make sure they got everyone moving.
And he kept a special eye on Isaint.
-
[Jackhammer -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Binding of Mimes - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
Aaron released the chem seal on his body armor so he could talk with his normal voice again. With the clown-mime bound, double-bound, and triple-bound, he would at least have enough time to punch her unconscious if she started to get free. But it didn't seem like it was going to come to that, as whatever the poor elf was exposed to looked to be right on track to kill her all by itself. At any rate, if she didn't die, they'd probably still need her. So Aaron borrowed some dead sap's clothes--a large overcoat primarily--to bag up the slender elf. He carried her over one shoulder and kept his other hand full with this Taurus. Back in the city, the Taurus was great to have around. Down here, it seemed just a bit pathetic. He looked it over with clear distaste and a sigh.
"Hey Isaint, do you have a warhawk I can buy off you? I feel like that's going to be a bare minimum."
He pauses for a moment, deciding it's best not to ignore the elephant in the underground. "And who the hell are you shouting at? This place getting to you?"
[spoiler]
42
[/spoiler]
-
Isaint had just dragged son and daughter back to the group when Jackhammer spoke to him. With a raspy voice he answered:
"I think I've a mild form of hallucination. A bit of my subconscious has opened up to torment me and remind me that I've been in a similar situation before. Shut up!Don't worry, I've got a handle on it.
I don't sell weapons - but I'll gladly lend you my Ruger."
With a little flourish, Isaint produced a black Ruger Super Warhawk with external smart gun from somewhere inside his coat. A few seconds later he added a camo holster to it and three speed loaders.
"Careful, it's loaded with Red'n Black: APDS and Gel alternating. You need a smartlink to select what you want. Or you have to reload. Don't worry about the grip, it's molded to fit my hand size. Don't lose it - when this is over I want her back.
If you can shoot with rifles, I can give you also my Ruger 101. It's a nice and reliable weapon. Shut up!"
-
They were a sorry sight as they limped away from the scene of the battle. The corpses in their wake testified to their victory, and miraculously none of the family were dead. But Tabor's headless form stole any joy from it, not to mention that half their group were virtually incapacitated.
But if they didn't move, they'd soon be dead - the Flowers could hit them again at any time.
Al literally had to drag Spike along. Isaint did the same with Frisk - it was damned undignified, but there were no extra hands. All four family members were completely blind, and half were still puking their guts out or literally choking on burning mucous. French and Jackhammer had their hands completely full helping two of them along each, Jackhammer also carrying the inert form of Tobbis on his back as well. Many of their number were phasing in and out of reality all the while, plagued by hallucinations.
Al had grabbed Tabor's head and stuffed it into a bag - there was no way they could take the body.
It was slow going, and all they could do was struggle along in the direction their Harlequinade friends had been leading them. But after a few minutes, they found a small side passage and went down it. It was hardly safe, but they all needed to rest, and at least it was better than where they had been.
And they needed to see about Frisk. Her thrashing was becoming sporadic, with increasingly long spans between eash spasm, while the foaming at the mouth was growing worse and she was shouting things in Sperethiel. She was going to crash soon - an ugly, life-threatening crash that, to be straight about it, would leave them down here without a clue how to get out.
They laid her down. Al got out his SOTA medkit and started setting up the apparatus. He was no medic, but he had a pretty good idea what he was doing. Still, he'd be happy for the kit's online assistance if they could get a signal. At first it was a no-fly, but Isaint spread the flaps of his coat - he had that cool fresnel weave on the thing - and they were in business. Al's plan was to wait for her spasms to stop completely - they couldn't work on her properly as long as she was mummified in restraints the way she was, nor could they risk a spasm mid-procedure - and then hit her with the meds fast before she could slip into a coma.
In the meantime, he was having trouble seeing himself - all the mucous around his eyes was oozing and swelling across the photosensitive surfaces on his cybereyes. With Isaint also acting as his assistant, he applied the recommended anti-inflammatory, but it was hopeless. Great. He'd have to deal with Frisk half-blind.
When they'd timed a full minute since her last spasm, they checked her for hidden sharps then started unlocking the cuffs and cutting the plastic ties, ready to jump back on her if she came to. Al applied the electrodes and soon they had a pretty good picture of the hell the combat drug had played on her slender form. She was a patchwork quilt of torn muscles, an array of hairline fractures in her bones, and worse, severe swelling of the brain.
Her brain was what they needed - they had to wake her up. Al selected that option, even though the computer suggested they let her sleep, adding annoying warnings about the possibility of long-term muscular-skeletal damage if they allowed her to move. Yeah, it was the selfish choice, but if they didn't do it, they'd never get her to the proper docs she needed.
Besides, the computer was also saying if they didn't wake her up and relieve the pressure, she'd die from that. Thanks. Very helpful.
A drawer popped open, ejecting a sterile bag containing a hollow stainless steel needle pre-fitted with a drainage tube. And a tiny vibro drill. The computer showed Al a picture of where Kocher's point was, the spot to drill and then insert the needle to perform the field ventriculostomy, and he managed to find what he thought was the right spot. Still, he asked Isaint to double check it for him against the readout. When they were as satisfied as two amateurs could be, they all held their breath as Al started. His was having a harder and harder time seeing, but his scar-mangled hands were steady. A sensor in the drill stopped the motor once the pressure indicated they were through the cranium, and Al started the process of inserting the needle into the ventricle of the brain.
-
Although they couldn't carry Tabor's body, they could at least make sure they didn't leave his more expensive gear behind. The mimes surely could use it.
While Isaint picked up the Frisk's dropped knives he looked at the slumped bodies of their erstwhile enemies.
'You can't do that. This is even more depraved than anything else you already did.'
"They are already dead and if just one other suicide freak hesitates to follow in their footsteps, it's time well spent."
'Or you'll enrage them and they'll send even more freaks after you.'
"Then I might to repeat the exercise."
With quick steps, Isaint walked over to the dead men. First he cut open their garments. Then - with fast and just a tiny bit shaking movements he cut the bloody cross into their abdomens. The stench was almost overpowering but he continued.
'If you still were a soldier you could be court martial-ed for mutilating the dead.'
"I am no soldier, I am a warrior and I will do worse to protect my charges."
Once their make-shift lazaret was in operation, he did his best to double check Al's steps with the manual. It wasn't much he could do besides giving his chummer a boost in confidence.
#190
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~10:50, Tunnels beyond Nightside Market, London Below, London]
From the dubious safety of the side tunnel the group, what is left of them, attempt to make themselves comfortable and address their various hurts. Time is passing with agonising slowness and they are all too aware that the devil rats may be circling like flies drawn to a dying beast. Eventually Frisk drags herself back to consciousness...at first she is confused but horrifying clarity returns all too fast and the group witness the appalling grief turn to icy hate...with a threatening deliberateness Frisk returns the mask to her face, a finality of movement suggesting it will be a long long time before it comes off...most disturbing of all is that during these moments she doesn't speak a word beyond the inevitable hiss of pain dragged out of her battered form...
With a wordless gesture she indicates it is time to go...!
While focus is mainly on Frisk and her internal battle the family are facing their own struggles...Natasha in particular has been badly hit by the chemical cocktails after her recent brush with Isaint's retaliation...a medkit alert indicates that she is far from well, and indeed there is a blistering mark appearing on her cheek that the kit identifies, or rather fails to identify, as an unknown toxin. Isaint vividly sees again the troll reach down to embrace her slender form in the first meeting with the degenerate Flowers back in the Market...and the kiss...
***
#64
-
'You do realize that it's your fault that girl will die.'
"Wait, what?"
'The kiss, you did see it, but you didn't think. A band of chem freaks and you don't even think to check that kiss?'
"I didn't know who they were at the time."
'Yes, but you didn't check after you learned what they were.'
"I didn't have to, we used the medkit to wake her up. The bio-monitor didn't show anything at the time."
'Excuses - you didn't mention it and no one checked - it's your fault.'
Isaint stopped whispering to himself. He didn't want to alarm the family even more, so he contacted the team over his comm: <<Guys, I fucked up. The bio-monitor has detected an unknown toxin on the girls cheek. That troll from the flowers gave her a kiss right on that spot - I saw it but I didn't make the connection.
We need to get her serious medical attention as fast as possible. And we might have to hire someone in Nightside to find out what toxin this troll uses.
Al, might your friend be able to do that? Otherwise we won't have an other option but to ask Goodnight or her sister for help - no matter her feelings for us, she will help want to help the girl.>>
-
Al quickly messaged back: <<You didn't fuck up, you got that filly away from a planned abduction by a pack of freaks on their home turf. I'll do what I can for her, and I will call my guy. Calling Goodbye, hell, can't hurt. Yeah, she's partial to the girl. But she's crazier than a rabid polecat, and I'm hoping to be topside before she could even reach us. Your call - you're the one she's most likely to kill if you should, well, anything.>>
He stopped the group just long enough to scan Natasha and find out the damned medkit didn't have a clue. He went with a broad spectrum antibiotic and some low-grade stimulant that wouldn't crash her out later.
Then he texted Requiem as they followed Frisk. <<Hey, kemo sabe, we been beat into next week. Flowers done hit us hard, most hurt, and poor Tabor is lost to us. Damned sorry for it, too. He took one with him, though. But as it says in the Good Book, a friend in need is a friend still in need - our little girl we're looking out for, she got herself kissed by some trog Flower leader, and now her face is swelling up like a horny chimp's backside. We're trying to get back to the world for help as quick as we can, but if you can track down some treatment advice, well, I'll just have to put it on my I-owe-ya tab.>>
-
Aaron nodded at Isaint as he took the weapon. He'd certainly seen his share of men on drugs, and this one at least still seemed to know which end of the gun to point at people, and better yet, who those people were and weren't.
At the development with the girl, Aaron couldn't help but get a bit stern. "We've spent enough time down here. Every second we spend trying to fix one thing, two more things go wrong. This place has more poisons and murderers than doctors and friendly neighbors. Let's pick her up and double-time it to the surface. We'll get a real doctor and leave this house of horrors to the freaks that call it home. Come on, pack it up 'doctor Al'. I'm taking our scientist doc here and heading out, and I'm not stopping until I see some damned sunlight."
-
Al couldn't fault Jackhammer's logic. Hell, he'd been saying the same sort of thing since they'd gotten down here. And there wasn't any more he could do for the girl anyway unless Requiem got back to them with something useful.
They were in better shape now anyway - the worst of the pepper effects had passed, and the hallucinations were receding as well. Everyone - both family and runners - were worn to the core, despite it having been only a short time since their rest at the underworld hotel.
He stepped up to Frisk, who led the way with a grim determination. She walked as if all she wanted to do was finish the job - so she could go back and kill some Flowers. "Any idea how much longer we gotta hike? An' if there's a closer option, well, nothin' up there could be worse than what we's dealin' with down here, so any shortcuts'd be most welcome."
-
"You are totally right Jackhammer. Double-time is what we need right now. And I'll send a message to Goodnight. With any luck we'll know what we are dealing with before we reach a clinic."
Isaint had gathered is coat again and used its amplifier functionality to aim a message back to the market:
<<Hello Goodnight. We need a favor - I need a favor: Natasha has gotten herself a kiss from a troll of the House of Flowers about an hour ago. Now the bio-monitor registers an unknown toxin and her cheek started to blister a minute ago. We are moving her to a clinic above ground. It would be useful to know what we are dealing with, so we can order countermeasures. I hope you'll help us for Natasha's sake.>>
-
The Frenchman borrowed some water from Al's canteen t wash off his face. He needed some painkiller the medkit could provided but waited for everyone to be cared after before letting Al give him the necessary drugs and treatment.
He stood guard while the rest of the team was getting looked after.
When Frisk was up again the two exchanged a glance. He could only see her eye now that she bore her mask again, but a lot was said despite the silence. He had been very close to shoot her dead, to protect his friends and to keep himself alive. She had shot him and almost slashed his throat if not for his acute combat instinct. There was something to be said about the bond death would create between people.
Jack got my vote too, I'd do whatever it take to get the hell out of this damned place, a.s.a.p.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:00, under an alley off High Holborn, Temple District, London]
It wasn't long before the masked and silent Frisk was leading them up ladders with increasing frequency. Climbing was almost more than any of the family members could handle, but the idea of going up seemed to give them access to their last reserves of strength. Jackhammer, already carrying Tobbin, also had to haul Spike up each time, but even that didn't seem to slow the huge ork down.
At some point, Al's practiced eye could see they were entering areas of active infrastructure. They were out of London Below now - these were garden variety accessways for utilities maintenance. All the more reason to move quickly - it wouldn't do to run into a work crew.
Rachel Pellettiere started crying when they saw thin spots of sunlight on the cement floor below a manhole cover. Frisk didn't say anything, and didn't have to. She immediately started to stalk off. But there was one thing to do before she left.
Generally oblivious to social niceties, Al found himself tearing up awkwardly as he caught her, tapped her shoulder. She halted, and at first didn't turn, but it was clear to the small Southerner from the set of her shoulders that she knew why he'd stopped her. Maybe she didn't want it, or maybe she'd chosen to forget it, but Al couldn't let her walk off without it. Slowly she turned, and he proferred the sack with as much respect as could be mustered amid the deep ignominy of the situation. She took the morbid remembrance from him, and if she felt gratitude for the gesture - or for her life - there was no sign of it though the eye slits in her mask. She walked off and disappeared into the dark.
The ceremony complete, Al turned to find Natasha prostrate at the bottom of the ladder, her father kneeling over her and reaching for a commlink. Exchanging quick glances with his three remaining comrades, Al stepped quickly forward and snatched the device from the man's hand. The Doctor rose, and from the look in his eyes Al was afraid he might have to take the man down. But the mathematician somehow restrained himself for a moment, seething in front of Al, giving the smaller man a chance to speak. "Doc, if it were jist a question o' goin' off ta slave away fer a corp not ta yer likin', then I'd call the ambulance myself." His voice in the near-dark was like a stone slab being dragged off a sarcophagus. "But some o' them as is lookin' fer ya, they don't want ya alive. Now ya know that, Doc. We brought ya this far, all four o' ya, an' we ain't gon' quit on ya now. But the one thing good about goin' down into that subhuman hell was that there's a chance, just a chance, we done shook our tails loose fer the moment. That could give us the window we need ta git you an' yours to my NeoNet contacts. Git ya somewhere safe."
The man calmed down, but logic would only go so far at this point. There was no doubt the girl needed real medical care. They had to keep moving.
Climbing the last ladder, Al grunted and lifted the heavy iron manhole cover the few inches necessary to take a peek. It was a summer midday in London, but his eyes compensated instantly for the drastic change in the light. No, the sun was not the problem, not what made Al curse.
He was looking down a short alley onto High Holborn, the north side of the Temple District, the heart of the Lord Protector's enclave, the most secure area in London. In the space of just a few seconds he saw a pair of cops walk across the mouth of the alley. There was no way they were going out on that street covered in blood, some barely able to walk, and armed to the teeth. He stepped down a couple of rungs and pulled out his own commlink, which he knew was vastly more secure than the Doc's.
<<Chastity, yeah...no, not hardly, not yet...but quiet down now an' listen. Sheeez, woman. That clean van I sent the cred for, that's ready, right?...Right. Alley on south side o' High Holborn, right across from a wine shop. Morgan's...yeah, hush hush an' lickety split...right.>>
He went back down the ladder. "Taxi's five minutes out. Now, how we gon' make that handoff?"
-
[spoiler]
Drug durations:
Drug duration Aisa (http://orokos.com/roll/332475): 20+2d6 24 minutes
Drug duration Dopadrine (http://orokos.com/roll/332476): 1d6 50 minutes
So Isaint will by now have stopped hallucinating (and received 2 stun damage)
Now that Hard Target is out I'll also add a few modifications to my gear (especially ammo select for the Ruger Super Warhawk and easy breakdown for my rifles)
[/spoiler]
Isaint felt clearer now. The hallucination had gradually gone away until only faint whispers remained.
Like Al he gave Frisk a small bundle. It was less grisly but contained instead the dead mime's weapons including his weapon focus. On an impulse he squeezed Frisk's shoulder for a moment and nodded to her. There where no words that could have done any good.
When they stopped to discuss, he again connected his medkit to the sick girl with an infusion, so they could at least monitor and stabilize her state and get her back to consciousness - but no success. The girl stayed unresponsive.
[spoiler]
First Aid stun damage (http://orokos.com/roll/332480): 8d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
To Al's question he answered:
"I still think we should do the hand over close to one of the army bases here in London. They do have a strictly enforced no-fly zone, so that we should be safe from surprise attacks by air. Hopefully Neonet won't insist on taking a blimp to the meet.
I don't know how much time we have until the meeting, but if we can we should visit a shadow clinic beforehand. Or at least the girl should.
I just received a ping from my new drone, an Aeroquip Dustoff. I can take her as an emergency transport anywhere within London within 15 minutes.
So if you know an address for a discreet medic service, now is the time to share."
While he said that, his coat changed to display an approximation of a medic uniform with a big red cross on the back.
-
Al agreed with both of Isaint's points.
So first things first. "Yeah, I got a sawbones we can definitely trust. She's right over inna Docklands - hopefully they don't think we'd be crazy enough to go back there. We take the van I got comin' won't be much more'n yer medevac's fifteen minutes, an' we don't have ta split up. But yer call. I'll let 'er know we's on our way."
<<Patty? Al...Yeah...Yeah, that's fer soon. Great...Listen, toots, I got a girl here, poisoned bad. Somethin' exotic. Topical job from some freaks inna Below. Forwarding the medkit reads. We's fifteen ta twenty out...Hell yes we got cash...See ya soon.>>
Call made, he returned to the other matter. "Personally, ol' Al likes places with just a little less o' the Man inna mix. But ya knowed whatcha was doin' so far, reckon I'll follow yer lead. Less anyone else objects, I say pick yer partickalars an' I'll relay 'em to Fairy Twinkle."
-
Not knowing much about the area, and therefore not understanding why they couldn't simply get to the surface and leave, such as to a hospital, was making Aaron quite cross. He paced back and forth, spinning the cylinder on the Ruger Warhawk and looking around for signs of trouble.
"Okay, I see sunlight. Technicality. I want to be standing in it." he said as he shoved the Ruger back into its holster. "Let's just get the job done. Anywhere close is fine by me."
-
Al gave the anxious giant a slap on the back. "Trick is, kemo sabe, we done come up inna Temple District - security's locked down tighter'n a virgin Catholic school girl's knees. An' ever'one's more posh than royalty. We got hurt people, we look like shit, an' we's carryin' enough obvious weapons ta call down three or four FRTs they catch even a glimpse of us." He lit a cigarette and offered one to the ork, then continued in his graveyard gravel voice. "But listen, yer so eager fer a tan, might not be the worst idear. I got our ride onna way in, should show any minute. You lose the bow, stow the six-shooter, if'n you can git up outta this here hole without bein' spotted by any of the cops I just saw, you can help guide 'er in, take a quick glance around afore we all hang our asses out." He shrugged. "Provided ya think ya can blend with all the barristers an' solicitors out on they lunchtime strolls, that is."
-
The Frenchman stepped in. I think I can handle that, if you guys want.
I have my suit in my bag, and my handguns are my only weaponry. I can easily blend in. And I'm good behind a wheel if needs arise.
What do you think, should I change?
-
"That's a good idea. But you should wait until the van provides cover.
But just to be sure, you should disguise your face. There are a million cameras out there and the Druids have enough government contacts that they surely can access the facial recognition database - not to mention they'll still have spirits floating around looking for us.
When we emerge we'll have to move and fast at that.
As soon as I've taken apart my rifle and changed my appearance to that of a municipal worker, I'll help the rest of you get topside."
Isaint actually had already begun to do that: With the push of a button his rifle went to pieces and found their way into his backpack.
#194
-
Even as the team made their preparations for and quick and discreet emergence from the underground passage, a clean but non-descript white van with no markings but displaying all the proper licensing in AR slowed to a crawl as it passed the alley mouth, then carefully reversed around the corner into alley, nearly filling it, and neatly obstructing the view of the manhole from the street. Almost immediately, a youngish human in workman's flats emerged. Al recognized him as one of Chastity's errand boys. He shut the driver's door, took some cigarettes from his pocket, and appeared to wander off for a smoke.
He'd left the engine idling, but Al knew he'd never be back.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:35, Ferndale Shelter, Ferndale Street, Docklands, London]
No sooner had Al pulled the Bulldog into the shelter's garage than a pair of slovenly looking characters hauled the rear doors open and moved Natasha onto a waiting gurney. They wheeled her into a surprisingly well-appointed backroom clinic area, parents at each side of her.
Al stepped out with the rest of the group and was greeted by Dr. Patricia Kwon. She was a Korean woman, tall for her ethnicity, but not for her metatype. She had sharp green eyes and her mouth always seemed to be darkly amused at everything around her. When Al had been an all-too-regular customer back in his smuggling days, she'd had a pert, muscular physique that made people take notice. Now, twenty years later, because she was an elf, she still did. Al licked his lips, and she just half grinned, half sneered in that way of hers. "I've been working from the data you sent me. I don't know what the hell it is, but I've broken down some of the chemistry and I think - I hope - I can do something for her."
She'd talked while she walked, and they were in the treatment room now, her assistants already running a line into the girl's arm. "How long?" Al asked.
"You on a clock?"
"Oh yeah."
"Set it back."
"Negatory, amiga. They catch us here, we's all dead."
Her eyes flared with sudden anger. "Asshole."
"I am who I am, an' that's the game you's in, darlin'."
"Well, the price just doubled. Give me thirty minutes to see if I can get the levels right - if I do, it won't repair the damage, but it should stop the toxin's progress."
Then they carried Tobbin in. "This one stays. Don't fret, they ain't after him." Then Al left the room, returning to the garage, to Spike, to the others.
"Wheels up in thirty. I'll make the call."
On the way over they'd selected a spot. Royal Victoria Gardens was next to a new power station on its west end, and just south of London City Airport - the airspace would be strictly controlled, but there was little in the immediate vicinity to warrant a heavily armed security presence. That said, there was some upscale housing on both sides along the water. It was a good balance, too nice for the bad guys to roll heavy unnoticed, but also too nice for street thugs to blend. It sat on a cusp of the Thames north bank that was off the beaten track, but the A117 and A112 offered good escape paths to the east and west, respectively.
<<eTher - Royal Victoria Gardens, forty minutes. There's a parking lot in the northwest corner. Let us know how you're coming in.>> The parking lot was screened on two sides by tall trees, and on the other sides by structures - if they watched their angles, they'd be okay on sniper fire. He sent the text, hoping the encryption on his Caliban was enough.
It was close enough to the water that he was tempted to call his boat over, just for another way out. But it had been at his place when they hit it - they'd be watching it. Which gave him another idea - he called the autopilot and sent the thing west to loiter near the Greenwich Yacht Club. Couldn't hurt to pull at least a little of their surveillance resources.
"Place is only a five minute drive from here - anyone feel like goin' on ahead an' settin' up?"
-
Isaint felt a splitting headache from the aftereffects of the drug cocktail, but he refrained from asking for medication. A bit of rest would take care of it on itself.
He still hadn't retrieved the drone, but it was comforting to know that it floated around, ready to assist him and the team.
He nodded at the change to a power station. All around a safer proposition should a shout out occur.
"I will. I still need to call my new ride and re-equip. Besides, I can change my face and hair at will, so I'm in less danger of being recognized."
Having said that he concentrated and began to change behind his mask
[spoiler]Disguise check (w/ face sculpt and keratin control) (http://orokos.com/roll/333208): 14d6t5 5 [14d6t5=4, 4, 4, 6, 4, 5, 3, 6, 2, 2, 4, 6, 2, 5]
[/spoiler]
When he revealed his face he looked a cross between an artist and a new age priest. A mental command changed his coat to be pure white.
<<Susi: Run silent protocol with wrapper program for obvious equipment. Full defense.>>
"Be safe and set your equipment to regularly reboot. We lost our last hacker, so all we have left is my agents."
-
Al watched in amused amazement at Isaint's translformation. "Sheee-it, boy, ya done turned yerself into a damned hippy," was all he could say. But he took the ork's advice and set his Fairlight to reboot every five minutes.
Not that he used it for much of anything anyway - his few wifit-enabled pieces of gear were well behind its firewall when they were active, but they were all manually shut off ninety-nine percent of the time.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:35, Ferndale Shelter, Ferndale Street, Docklands, London]
<<eTher - Royal Victoria Gardens, forty minutes. There's a parking lot in the northwest corner. Let us know how you're coming in>>
The reply is satisfyingly rapid
<<Fine, I will be there. My limo will pull in to the parking lot and we’ll keep this brief. I will arrange for a payment transfer upon verification of the good Doctor’s health>>
And talking of health, Doctor Kwon came to find the group in the sparsely appointed waiting area, made to feel smaller by the family’s restless pacing.
“Well you’ll be pleased to know that Natasha is stable. I wasn’t able to identify the specific compound but I suspect it was a derivative of Gamma Scopaline, something designed to make her more suggestible. There doesn’t appear to be any lasting damage and she is sleeping off the abuse you lot have been through over the last few hours. She’ll be up and about by this evening I would think…”
And then Al’s life becomes just that little bit more interesting
<<Al [Silk]: I spoke to Requiem and he said he’d seen you in London. I trust all is well now. I have a job offer for you in Oxford but I need you to get over there now, it’s a narrow window of opportunity. Can you make it in the next ninety minutes? I can send you the details in transit…>>
***
#65
-
Isaint had left the hospital with mixed feelings. He didn't like leaving the family and his chummers after all they had endured, but securing the area was equally important. Like Al he didn't dare calling his bike to him. It was to easy to slap an RFID tag on it.
He did stop by the inner couryard. A DocWaggon ambulance drone had just landed there. Isaint had to smile, his contact hadn't lied - this machine was a beauty.
Inside he found the promised equipment, but the only thing he took out was a poncho that he stashed in his coat. A few things left his backpack and found its way inside the drone. For one thing the illegal rifle. The taken apart Ruger would have to do for the moment.
He gave a mental command and the drone closed its doors and took off.
Isaint strode outside and called a robo taxi. He didn't take the direct route to the park but instead changed SIN and Taxi two more times while walking at least a km before the change.
After that it was a walk in the park...
#196
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:45, Ferndale Shelter, Ferndale Street, Docklands, London]
"She’ll be up and about by this evening I would think…”
"Well PTL ta that. Git 'er loaded up, we ain't got long." And, raising his voice to the group, "Green lights across the board, folks, new J's confirmed she'll make the meet. Bringin' a stretch job into the parkin' lot. We deliver now, she pays later." He watched their reactions at that, knowing it might not sit well. But hopefully they'd take his word that eTher was good for it - they were all operating past exhaustion.
And then he got the message from Silk. Son of a bitch. He was already at the point of using toothpicks to keep his eyes open. Half his kit had burned in the fire, and the other half was stashed in the Toyota Elite he'd sent to Horace's place. But he owed Silk. Since he seemed to be stuck in this ridiculous biz for the time being, that relationship was too important.
And a man, a real man, worked for a living. You didn't have to like it, you just had to do it. It was thirty more minutes until the meet, but since of course the whole thing was sure to go off smoothly without a hitch, then, if he kept the pedal to the metal and didn't even stop to piss, he could make it back to Oxford in an hour. Well, maybe more like an hour and a quarter, though at that speed his van with the squeaky clean new reg would be burned by half the traffic cams in Buckinghamshire.
He spoke a text: <<Want ta help, but need two hours. Got three stand-up hombres here with me. Serious pros. Should I invite them to the party?>> but didn't hit send.
"Now wait jist a doggone minute," he muttered to himself. She'd said Requiem mentioned he'd seen Al in London. Something didn't add up. Al's memory was a bit hazy with the whirlwind of the past few days, but he checked back through his texts. There it was, from the day before, some stuff about the deal with eTher, and then: <<PS - is Requiem still good people and did you send him?>> She already knew where he was. Plus, he'd just let Req know what a sorry state they were in just a couple of hours ago, which he'd have mentioned if he'd talked to her. And hell, the way she was tight with eTher, he'd be more than a little surprised if she didn't also know about the timetable for their imminent meet.
Either it wasn't her, or she was playing at something.
He deleted the first text, then spoke a new one: <<Negatory, sweet cheeks, we got a buyer fer our little math-clan here, goin' fer a hand-off up Hampstead way, headin' there in thirty. But send me the full details o' the next job an' maybe I can skin that can some other way. Or, if your job is mucho urgento, say so an' we'll put Mr. an' Mrs. Numbers on ice somewhere safe, take care o' yer deal first. PS - send me some cartons o' Winstons, ya git a chance, these Limeys ain't got no decent smokes.>>
-
Aaron sat. It was a simple gesture. Just a large ork, dressed in full body armor, a huge revolver on his hip and an actual compound bow on his back, seated on a small bench, elbows on his knees, head on his folded hands. They hadn't gotten much sleep, all in all. They had gotten a hex or two, the bad side of some blades, and a chemical bath. The girl was unconscious. The boy was miserable. The wife was a wreck, and the doctor looked tense enough to have a stroke. Tobbis looked like he was probably going to change career paths and Al always looked like hell. Isaint looked like someone else every minute. Aaron had to wonder if he even remembered who he really was, or if he'd been completely subsumed by his shadow life. Frenchman quite openly didn't remember who he really was, but he seemed to be holding it together, maybe better than anyone. Aaron had heard from Mel, before she disappeared, that the mysterious Frenchman was loaded with high-end augmentations and had some sort of special training. Maybe this was all his version of normal. But it sure as hell wasn't Aaron's.
"Jackhammer." He reminded himself. He realized with all of this, his old life was probably never coming back. "My name is Jackhammer."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:35, Ferndale Shelter, Ferndale Street, Docklands, London]
<<Negatory, sweet cheeks, we got a buyer fer our little math-clan here, goin' fer a hand-off up Hampstead way, headin' there in thirty. But send me the full details o' the next job an' maybe I can skin that can some other way. Or, if your job is mucho urgento, say so an' we'll put Mr. an' Mrs. Numbers on ice somewhere safe, take care o' yer deal first. PS - send me some cartons o' Winstons, ya git a chance, these Limeys ain't got no decent smokes.>>
In response to Al’s text he received a live call from Silk, her surprisingly worried face appearing in the tiny viewer on his ‘link
“Al? Two hours is no good, I need you out of London now! Please don’t argue, the job is real but that isn’t the reason. This is bigger than both of us and there’s no time to explain something like this here…are you meeting eTher, is that why you wanted the intel on her last night? I’ll call her, relocate your meet…your job is hosed, you just don’t know it yet…stay in London and the ramifications could be huge. I know this is a lot to ask and an even bigger thing to try and sell to your team but please believe me, it’s important. And give up smoking, it’s doing crap things to your lungs!”
***
#66
-
"Well shee-it, woman, why'n't ya jist say so inna first place? Could saved ol' Al a passle o' trouble makin' up coded messages about smokin' Winstons. As if I would ever smoke a damned Winston! Hang on a tick."
He muted the phone and said, "Ever'body mount up - meet's compromised an' London ain't safe...as if that's a news flash. I'm gittin' the details now, but we's out the door in sixty seconds. Someone call Isaint an' let 'im know ta avoid the park an' we'll scoop 'im up outbound."
Then he went back to Silk. "So tell eTher ta move the meet to the M40 service area - they's only one betwixt here an' there. We can be in Oxford in jist about ninety that way, if'n ya want a team that's half dead an' half beat ta shit. But be clear on one thing - this ain't a job no more. This is about a family o' four real life people here. So whatever it is you gotta say about the job bein' hosed an' me not knowin' it yet, well, this ain't the time ta be mysterious, toots. I ain't so much as gittin' behind the wheel till ya tells me ever'thin' I might need ta know ta help keep them safe."
-
Jackhammer looked up at Al, but didn't say a word. He cracked his knuckles like he'd learned to do when he was young. It usually helped in otherwise challenging social settings.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:35, Ferndale Shelter, Ferndale Street, Docklands, London]
“Damn it Al, we don’t have time for a metaphysics lesson! Alright, alright…” and her persona holds up its tiny arms conciliatorily “we’ll talk as you move. I don’t know what your run is beyond the hints you’ve dropped and I really don’t want to know! But I know you met Hecate, and she no doubt gave you a speech about the threads of fate?! Well there’s some truth to that…there are those that bumble through life following the path woven for them in the Pattern, and there are those that change the Pattern simply by being. I believe you are one of those…from the headaches Summer has been getting I suspect there’s at least one more of you nearby. Couple that with the effect that London has as a meta place and the chaos has the potential to be unrivalled.
I work with, or perhaps for, a group that meddle in the strands of fate, probability, whatever you want to call it…hardly an exact science…much like Hecate’s troupe do although probably on a grander scale. I can’t say much about the Conspiracy…but I know eTher has close ties to it and if they ask she will divert her plans. Something about what you are doing in London has disrupted the paths that we have forseen. I hope you can save your family, and I hope that the act of saving them won’t be the one that derails the plan further…and I know that won’t stop you doing what you have to do…just please, please get out of London, let’s at least minimise the effect…”
***
#67
-
Al mostly stopped listening halfway through Silk's speech. But he took away three key points. First, the universe pretty much revolved around him. Which he'd already more than half suspected. No surprise there. Second, there was nothing in all their hippy-dippy prognostications that said they couldn't save the family, and that was the most important thing. Third, they need to get out of London lickety-goldurn-split.
He held up a hand. "Alrighty, long as ain't no specific threats to the family, I'll take ya at yer word an' sort the rest later. Jist keep me posted ya figure out who this 'one more' center o' the fate web feller is."
He ended the call. He felt like he'd been gut-punched. How long could he keep this runaround up? How long could the rest of them? They'd started out with, what, ten? Four left, though at least they knew Tobbin was still alive, which wa more than they could say for Solo, Smiley, Mel, and Nitro.
The medics had loaded up the girl, and that meant the family were all in. He shut the door so that he could talk to Frenchie and Jack.
He led with a tired sigh. "I won't double-talk you fellers. Turns out this tip ta move the meet, that weren't from no hard intel. Comes from some sorta divination magic, which is the devil's work if ever there was such a thing. Bitch of it is, though, reckon I trust these folks. They got a helluva track record, and done treated me right on more occasions than one. So I know this has just now happened real fast, but what I wanna do is take their advice, move the handoff outta town. The buyer's on board with it - she trusts these people too. End o' the day, our schedule's pushed back less than an hour. But you fellers've put it onna line fer this family same as ol' Al. An' hell, I know you've only even known me fer a coupla days. But I'm askin' ya, humbly an' respectfully, ta back this play. Whaddaya say, amigos?"
-
Isaint was walking through the park, feigning interest in the few sculptures of a bygone industrial golden age.
So far he had seen nothing suspicious. He called the team:
<<So far everything seems to be alright around here. What is the status at your end?>>
-
Jackhammer glared at Al. He didn't know this guy very well, or any of them for that matter, but it seemed like he'd been calling a lot of the shots so far. And, coincidentally, so far things kept going from bad to worse. Now, when the job was about to be done, he was finding more reasons to push it back. Jackhammer was not expert on character, but it sure felt like this Al guy was playing some other angle. Still, this was his first "shadow run", and Al seemed to have his reasons. Jackhammer just sat in silence, waiting for the world to go by around him, biding his time. "This Al guy changes his mind one more time, I'll change it right back for him."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:00, Royal Victoria Park, London]
As Isaint walked through the park he felt the prickle of something wrong, but nothing he could put his finger on precisely…even a peak into the astral didn’t reveal anything unusual…the sun has emerged from behind the clouds and after the extended time underground it is a boon, but does little to settle the nerves. The park is full of early summertime revellers without a care in the world…children scream in their play, harried mothers chasing after their brood, the elderly perambulate along in their own private world, and the odd jogger on a lunchtime break use the park to blow off the corporate cobwebs…
When Al’s call pulled him away he was glad enough to go but took every precaution to ensure he wasn’t tailed, using every ounce of tradecraft to obfuscate his destination…
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
The end is almost in sight! The rather battered group pulled off the motorway into the services in a ragged convoy, ensuring they weren’t bunched up together to present a tempting target. The car park is moderately busy but a discrete ARO directed them to a point of the car park away from the services buildings where a waiting limo is idling, nestled amongst lesser vehicles…
A tall black man emerges and leans against the side of the vehicle and then a slip of a girl followed him out…
***
#68
-
All in all it had been a quite harrowing couple of days, but now they were near the end of their journey - or at least Isaint hoped so. After receiving Al's message about the change of location for the meet, he hadn't bothered to call another taxi. Instead he had called his bike to him. After an inspection and a thorough matrix search through his Agent cluster for hidden RFID chips he had started his ride back to meet up again. Just to be sure he had also activated his jammer to stop whatever spying devices he had missed. He even had taken the time to look into the astral for any spirits or watchers that could be following.
Now that they really had reached the meeting place, his hand had automatically wandered under his coat to be close to his gun. His new drone had followed them with enough distance but was close enough to be here within 30 seconds if necessary. The rifle was assembled once more and he called on the team:
<<Hey, it will probably be best if we establish a perimeter. Jackhammer, I know you are a deft hand with that bow of yours. I've sent you an ARO. If you go into positon there, I can go here. With that overlapping field of fire we should be in a prime position to stop anyone crashing the party - or anyone who wants to misbehave.>>
Isaint took position and waited.
With suspicion and interest he watched as the girl emerged from the limo. 'Hopefully this new player won't turn out like our last one...'
But that thought promted him to take a short look into the astral...
[spoiler]
Astral Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/334136): 8d6t5 5 [8d6t5=5, 6, 5, 6, 1, 1, 1, 6]
[/spoiler]
#198
-
Thanks to the ARO, which the others helpfully pointed out to Al, they were able to spot eTher's limo as soon as they entered the expansive parking area. Isaint had peeled away from them right away, as if they had never been together. Then, hearing Isaint coordinating with Jackhammer, he'd spotted a fairly blind spot along the treelined approach to the lot where he could slow down for the bowman to make a rolling dismount. Glancing back, however, he noticed the conflict on the huge ork's face. Al thought he knew at least part of what the huge ork was feeling.
"Hey amigo, think with yer head here, not yer heart. If there's one thing done become clear ta ol' Al over the last forty-eight, it's that you got a pertective streak a mile wide, an' that's been a lifesaver fer this fine family here. Hell, ya know I myself have been loathe ta leave they side. Thing is, though, stickin' with, well, we git hit again, all you can do is take the hits till the bad guys' ammo runs out, and folks we's dealin' with, that ain't gon' happen. Now I pray ta all the voodoo gods this goes smooth, but if'n it don't, well, only chance we got is ta hit them back harder'n they hit us. An' fer that, we need ya out there - cripes, ya been carryin' that bow 'round all this time an' we ain't even hardly got ta see ya use it."
He slowed down, using a speed bump as an excuse. "Now or never hombre. Besides, ain't there some ork brotherhood code, requires all o' y'all tuskers ta stick together?"
-
Jackhammer listened to the scarred man in silence. For all his reservations, Al seemed like maybe he might want this deal to happen after all. As the car slowed, Jackhammer opened his mouth to speak, but a long pause followed. Then he stood up and exited the car, grabbing his bow as he walked away. He left only two words hanging in the air for Al to enjoy. "That's racist."
-
Al had been called a racist before. Quite a few times. Always to his bafflement, once just a couple of days ago by an old friend, and never by anyone he'd grown to respect as much as Jackhammer.
Glancing back at the doctor and his family with a questioning look, he found only looks of surprised disapproval. He weakly raised two scarred fingers in a peace sign and with a sheepish grin muttered "Love see no color." At which point even the supine Spike whined and covered his face with his paws.
Al resumed driving with a resigned shake of his head. Europeans.
Then he drove away from where eTher waited, nosing his way through the parking lot as if trying to find a good space, giving the two orks time to get into position. "Okay, folks, this is it. Frenchie an' I'll get out, an' hopefully a few seconds later we'll open the doors. Doc, you an' William'll have ta move Natasha. Second the doors open, unless ya hear otherwise, ya head straight into the limo." By the time they reported being in place, he had already headed back toward the hand-off point. He backed into a parking space that left the rear doors just a couple of meters from the limo. He took a final quick look around, mostly trusting the snipers to spot any trouble, said "Here goes nothin'," under his breath to the Frenchman, and opened his door.
-
The Frenchman used the brief time at the clinic freshen up. Wash his face, get his suit straightened up, remove what he could of dirt and dust from the Argentum coat he got back from the Doc, and refilled the clips of his gun. He neatly folded his Chameleon Suit and put it back in his duffel bag. He didn't speak much during that time. IT mostly helped him to gather his nerves and strength back - refocus to face the dangers to come.
Al's speech got his full attention though. If "Destinty" decided to also be part of that mess, what could he do about it !? But for all he knew, he was dead a few months ago... maybe Destiny did have bigger plan. For him, for his companions. However, in most of the trids he watched, Destiny would throw the heroes straight into danger; when Al mentioned getting the Hell out of London, what not to like about this plan!
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
He grinned at Jack's "Racist" reply, but gave a silent but heavy look at AL's response to it. European... He stopped the stare by putting on his aviator shades and tightening the tie on his collar.
The Frenchman showed Al his gun and armored coat.
No worries, l'ami. I'll cover the Family. Plus I'm kind of looking forward to see our Drake friend.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
Much to Isaint’s disgust the creature that has emerged from the limo is showing its true form, a darcoform that stands taller than a troll, iridescent scales gleaming in the astral. Although difficult to tell with something so alien he suspects it’s an adept of some sort. The fact that his eyes tell him it’s a defenceless little girl parading in a stylish business suit does little to settle the antagonistic feelings…but the source of the negative emotion is external as his mentor shifts restlessly…
***
As Al and the Frenchman stepped down from the van eTher smiled warmly at them, with a quizzical look for the Frenchman…
“I enjoyed our dance, perhaps we can arrange another engagement where I am not dragged away so precipitously…but then that had something to do with you too, didn’t it?!”
The look from her bodyguard is less welcoming and the group suspect his embarrassment will take a while to live down. With a faraway look in his eyes he evidently scans the group and the area, stopping sharply as, despite the distance, he catches Isaint’s eye and directs a spirit over to investigate… it would seem they are taking the family’s security seriously…
With another sharp gesture he indicates that all appears to be clear
“Please, will you allow the good doctor to step down? Let us be away from here as quickly as possible…”
***
And with little more said the family are transferred to eTher’s limo. It might have been nice to get some sort of acknowledgement for the group’s efforts in keeping them alive but they are clearly are numbed by their tumultuous experiences of the last few hours…
Upon verifying the doc’s identity eTher transfers the promised funds without quibble, and as suddenly, and anticlimactically as that, and the family are finally someone else’s responsibility…
The limo pulls smoothly away and two SUVs bearing NeoNet AROs move in fore and aft to bracket the precious cargo…and it is all over…right?
***
#69
-
Isaint had donned his new Ruthenium Polymer Poncho behind some bushes, blending in. His rifle was ready but pointed downward at the moment so it would stay concealed. He couldn't see Jackhammer, but hoped that the Ork had found the indicated position.
His nerves were tense like steel cables. This was the moment they had been working for the last three days, loosing more than half the team in the process. He knew it wasn't over yet, but he couldn't help but drawing a early resume.
He had met Al - which in itself was probably enough of an adventure for most people. But a worthwhile one for sure. The odd old guy seemed to know god and the world. And despite his quirks he was a really solid fellow.
He had met - again - the Frenchman, but he seemed to be a changed man - and quite likable at that. Definitely a chance to exorcise some demons of his past if they ever got to get that drink together.
He had met Solo - a contact he really wanted to keep - provided the multitasker reappeared ever again. Another reason to go back to London Below.
He had met Jackhammer - a rather stoic man, but with a lot more staying power than all those flashy magic types. Definitely someone you wanted to watch your back.
He waited while his chummers and maybe even friends made the final move...
The appearance of the Drake touched a nerv, but he keept the gun down. The spirit that closed in on him didn't seem to be aggressive and in any case hadn't manifested, so Isaint just made himself ready to evade choose should it attack. It took a lot of will not to ignite the weapon focus.
And than the transfer was done.
Isaint couldn't relax. For all that had happened, now was the time for the earth to open up, an armada of attack helicopters to appear or a freaking dragon to make his appearance.
'Godspeed Doctor, godspeed.'
-
Jackhammer was never great with computers, and in spite of Isaint's best efforts and digital aids, he couldn't seem to find a good crossfire location. He eventually just settled for "good enough", leaving his comm off so he couldn't be located by some hacker. Apparently magicians could still do it, but he didn't really know how to avoid that kind of attention, so he just held really still.
During the entire exchange, he kept an arrow half-drawn. With friendlies mixing it up with potential targets, he'd gone with a static arrow. But as the limo pulled away, it seemed like he wasn't going to need it. He packed it back in the quiver and put his bow away. He flipped on his comm and typed out a message.
<<@Al, Isaint, Frenchman - It's been great, but I'm taking off before someone else gets killed or worse. Besides that, I have both a lender and an employer who'll be looking for me. I don't know which one will be harder to buy off. Good luck to you, but do me a favor and lose my commcode.>>
-
<<So, no after mission beer? Oh well, thanks for your help. If you wait a bit I can give you a lift.>>
Isaint looked around, the uneasy feeling still hadn't left him.
#200
-
The van's rear doors still open, Al dropped his weight down on the vehicle's floor. With his legs dangling, his boots barely brushed the asphalt of the parking lot. The departure of the family - all four still alive and together - was like an unimaginable weight lifted from his soul, and he was suddenly more tired than ever in his life. He'd never been so scared, so utterly terrified of failing at something in his life, though he hadn't allowed himself even to actively contemplate the alternative even for a moment. Now, he was too tired even to light up a cigarette, and Spike licking his ear was all that kept him from lying back and falling asleep where he sat.
Then he got Jackhammer's message, heard Isaint's response. <<Well kid, ya want yer number fergot, its fergot, and vaya con dios to ya. But if'n its money troubles ya got, turns out ol' Al might jist have a line on another job here real quick. Only real pros need apply, but reckon you made the grade an' then some. Ya sure ya don't want in on that action?>>
-
The shriek of the drone fired missiles jolt the entire group out of their reveries...
-
"NOOOOO!!!"
Isaint was on his feet and had the rifle at his shoulder in an instant, trying to shoot the missile out of the sky - no matter how futile this action seemed
[spoiler]
Well, I have no idea where that missile is headed or if it isn't too fast to be hit at all, but I'll try to shoot it down nontheless
If necessary I'll spend a point of edge to go before the missile.
Otherwise: Ini (http://orokos.com/roll/335189): 16+4d6 35 [4d6=6, 6, 5, 2]
Shoot a missile (Burst) (http://orokos.com/roll/335190): 14d6t5 4[14d6t5=5, 1, 5, 5, 2, 3, 6, 3, 1, 2, 1, 2, 2, 2]
Apply penalties as necessary, medium burst (-5 to dodge) 12 P AP -7 + Successes
Edit: Spending Edge for reroll: Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/335512): 10d6t5 2
[/spoiler]
-
Al knew the sound - pirates used them, and they were bad news. He was wide awake in an instant, moving through the van for the driver's seat without bothering with the doors.
<<Find the drone! Shoot the drone!>> he was shouting as he put the van in motion, knowing French was more than fast enough to get aboard before he could take off. They had to get up to the slip road with the family.
Decker gone, mages gone. Bunch of damned roughnecks with popguns and arrows.
But that wouldn't stop them from kicking some son of a bitch's ass from here to kingdom come in about ten seconds from right now.
Hopefully that wouldn't be too late.
-
Jackhammer turned to see the missile trails staining the sky. He wrinkled his face with a shallow sigh, knowing full well what was about to happen--what had just happened. He threaded an arrow pulled back, staring down the length of the shaft towards the metallic abomination that had just, paycheck notwithstanding, made the entire business of death, hatred, destruction, and sobriety completely meaningless.
[spoiler]Archery (http://orokos.com/roll/335323) 15d6t5: 2 [15d6t5=1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 4, 3, 1, 2, 6, 6, 3]
Explosive arrow: DV 14 AP -4[/spoiler]
-
The dance was the highlight of the evening, milady. the Frenchman had answered to the young and frail looking decker.
But theven dialogue had quickly turned back to business, and in no time the transfer was done. He had mixed feelings about it, but knew that had been the best option for the entire family.
Relief could be seen in his companions. It seemed their mission was over, amiss a few extra details, like finding Art, and understanding why Destiny needed them away from London.
But that could wait. Now the Frenchman was looking forward to finally share some peaceful time with Isaint to learn stories about his past. He has grown to respect the man, for his skills, his leadership and dedication the the job. And that was certainly why he didn't insist on getting those stories sooner. What he may learn could maybe have jeopardize that new relationship and endanger the group and the mission as a whole.
He looked at Al, and got amused by the dog licking the older man's ear. Al too had earn his respect and thrust. The four remaining runners had accomplished a lot together and he knew those few days together had created a strong bond. Hence the small disappointment when Jack wanted to part way already.
However, he had no time to argue. The sound of the missile kicked in his ear like a vivid dream. He surely didn't know it but that obviously wasn't his first time hearing it.
Al quickly drove the van away and the Frenchman jumped in in a desperate attempt to get as fast as possible away from where they were. If the missile was headed for them that was going to hurt!
-
Al was already muttering his voodoo chant as he set the van in motion, calling down all the powers of the Santeria gods to protect his team and the family.
Frenchman was in the shotgun seat before the vehicle was up to speed.
From what little they'd pieced together when not just struggling to stay alive, they figured there were some that wanted the doc dead, and some that wanted him alive. He prayed it was the latter. It would make all the difference in which vehicle those missiles were targeting.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
The two Nimrod Combat Air Frames are sweeping in from the east, still about a kilometre from the runners, hugging the treeline in a defensive attack manoeuvre. The high speed Tiger’s Eye air to ground missiles weave across the car parks headed at the departing limo and escort passing between Isaint and Jackhammer allowing them to make their desperate attempts to shoot them down… so far nobody else seemed to have noticed anything amiss and there is still traffic coming off the motorway and heading towards the same exit slip that is very likely to go up in flames in just a moment…
***
#71
-
For a moment Isaint thought he had missed, but it was just the insanely high speeds and distances at which bullets and missiles moved.
There was no time to seek cover or waste on calling for the others. All his senses were on high alert to find the source of the missile while almost on automatic a prayer came from his lips for the Saint's guidance.
[spoiler]
Ini 25:
Simple action: AGI boost: Agility Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/335523): 7d6t5 3 [7d6t5=1, 2, 5, 6, 5, 3, 4]
Simple action: Visual Perception check: INT 7 + Perception (Visual) 8 + Hawk Eye 1 + 3 (Vision Enhancement Glasses):
Perception (http://orokos.com/roll/335524): 19d6t5 9
[19d6t5=6, 3, 1, 3, 5, 6, 3, 4, 6, 5, 4, 3, 5, 6, 2, 2, 5, 1, 6]
Reaching my Limit exactly
Ini 15: Depending if the drones fire again, I'll aim and shoot either at a drone or a second rocket
Simple action: Aim
Simple action: Short burst
Using Adept Centering to cancel the -3 distance modifier
Agi 8 + Skill 8 + Smartlink 1 + Aim 1
Short burst vs. Drone or Rocket (http://orokos.com/roll/335526): 18d6t5 5 [18d6t5=6, 4, 6, 3, 4, 2, 3, 6, 5, 2, 5, 2, 1, 4, 3, 3, 4, 4]
If it's a rocket I'll again reroll with edge.
[/spoiler]
There, another object in the sky, barely more than a spec against the grey background. This time Isaint took a moment to steady his aim and squeezed the trigger for a short burst with his lovely, lovely new rifle, screaming his centering mantra: "VADE, SATANA"
#202
-
All hell was breaking loose. A small explosion of some sort in the parking area, a missile pinwheeling into some parked cars somewhere else, and then another one shot into the tail of the limo. Al could hear full autofire, and yelled at Spike in Tamasheq to get out of the van. He opened his own door to trick the dog into thinking he was bailing too, then shut it once the dog was out the still-open rear doors of the van.
There was a car making for the NeoNet convoy at speed, and a light truck moving to intercept Al. His first instinct was to dodge the truck, get himself and Frenchman up with the family. Wrong answer. Both the NeoNet escort SUVs were unhit - they'd take care of the approaching car. And if Al bypassed the truck, it would still be a threat.
No, if this asshole wanted an intercept, he'd get an intercept.
"Brace or bail, Frenchie baby, we goin' in hard!"
-
Jackhammer pulled back another arrow and launched it at an incoming drone. The distance was a problem, however, and it made it difficult to hit such a fast target. He decided to close some distance and see if Al needed any help, since he had apparently just had a collision. He reached for his comm as he moved, realizing he'd probably need it back on for whatever was about to transpire.
"This is getting stupid."
[spoiler]initiative (http://orokos.com/roll/336000) 20 [3d6=1, 3, 4]
moving towards van
Archery (http://orokos.com/roll/335998) 15d6t5: 2 [15d6t5=6, 2, 2, 3, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 3, 3, 5, 4, 6]
range increments are 11m, 110m, 330m, 660m
Explosive arrow: DV 14 AP -4[/spoiler]
-
The Frenchman did brace himself when he realized Al's intention. He didn't complain nor protested.
The shock was violent and the lorry took the blunt of the collision.
[spoiler]
Resist Ramming (http://orokos.com/roll/336100): 39d6t5 13
Soak Damages[/spoiler]
The Frenchman accessed his commlink with a mental command from his DNI and sent his request to the Van's sound system
Suddenly a very old tunes came to life in the Vehicle amidst the explosions outside, as the Frenchman looked at Crazy Al with a smart grin on his face.
https://youtu.be/rMbATaj7Il8 (https://youtu.be/rMbATaj7Il8)
Let's show them who they're dealing with, he said brandishing his gun.
-
Bullets started to rain around Isaint. With a jump and a roll he got out of the line of fire.
"What comes around goes around. Vade, Satana!"
A moment to aim was all he needed to send a short burst towards the drone.
[spoiler]
Ini 5:
Simple action: Aim
SImple action: Short burst Shoot Drone (http://orokos.com/roll/336261): 18d6t5 7[18d6t5=2, 5, 1, 4, 1, 4, 3, 4, 3, 5, 5, 6, 3, 6, 3, 3, 5, 6]
12 P AP -7 Dodge -2
[/spoiler]
-
Al had sped straight towards the oncoming truck. A few months ago he'd done this with a Knight-Errant cruiser and he'd shut his cybereyes off just to make sure he didn't wuss out. Now, though, he would see flames on the rear of the limo over on the slip road and no two-bit corp goon was going to stop him from reaching them.
He had poured on the gas. He'd often boasted that he'd never lost at chicken. But that he'd had a few very painful ties. He was older and slightly wiser now, though. Rather than turn away to avoid the collision, he waited a split second longer, adjusting course just enough that instead of a flush impact he put his right front corner smack into the other driver.
Other bastard had tried the same thing, but only one could win, and Al's timing was better. It was still an awful impact for his Bulldog, and as the vehicles met the two drivers literally came face to face - Al's body whiplashed painfully as his van tore into the cab of the truck and kept going, while the truck lurched to a stop, sending its driver through the windshield, face bouncing off Al's windscreen, body collapsing somewhere in between.
"Buckle up fer safety next time, bitch," was all Al had to say. He hit the wipers to get some of the guy's blood off the windshield just as Frenchie blasted the tunes.
Al wasn't sure who or what was in the back of the truck, but with the driver lying on the asphalt, he knew they couldn't beat him to the limo, and that was all that mattered. Frenchie's weapon was out, and he said, "Let's show them who they're dealing with."
"PTL ta that, amigo. PTL ta that," Al answered through a bit of double-vision, murder in his eyes, foot on the gas, one hand on the steering wheet. and the other fishing in his pocket for a stim patch or two.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
With chaos erupting around the parking area, multiple explosions and streams of tracer fire from the incoming drones the general public are slowly beginning to sit up and take notice, those who haven’t been immolated in errant rocket fire at least…
Isaint, ignoring personal safety and the rip of the near hypersonic rounds bearing down on him shouted his defiance to the wind…the rounds spat from his rifle clipping the rota block of one of the Nimrods and sending it circling down to its fate, although not before it unleashes a final missile…
As Al slips his clunking van past the ruined lorry side panels recess and slide away in a hiss of compressed air and he has a moment of recognition as the beetle-like black armoured forms, all too familiar from the flight from London, send a withering hail of fire into the side of the chasis…the armour piercing rounds from the bullpup assault rifle and the high explosive rounds from the gyro’d assault shotgun seriously reduce Al’s chances of reaching the limo…
Jackhammer’s attention is drawn to the scene on the exit slip to the motorway where the follow car has been engulfed in the flames from the limo. The two Knights have staggered out to be confronted by the car bearing down on them, two gentlemen exiting that vehicle wave handguns towards the stunned security team…and then one of the rear limo doors explodes outwards and eTher lurches from the doomed vehicle…her smouldering clothes are mangled and her right arm hangs at an unnatural angle against her side, but her eyes blaze murder!
***
#72
-
[spoiler]
Round 2 Ini round 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/336588): 16+4d6 34 adding Adrenalin Boost for 36
Ini 36
Simple action Aim
Simple action: Short burst at Drone #2
Free action: Adept centering
Shoot drone # 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/336587): 18d6t5 7 [18d6t5=1, 5, 3, 5, 2, 4, 5, 4, 6, 2, 5, 3, 3, 6, 2, 5, 4, 2]
[/spoiler]
Isaint didn't stop after one drone. Immediately he refocused towards the second drone and gave a short burst, hoping to destroy the thing like its sibling.
The reappearance of the milspec types was a nasty shock.
"It seems, APDS will have to stay on the menu." With grim determination Isaint changed his position so he could give fire support to Al and Frenchy
#204
-
Looks like our friends are back! said The Frenchman to no one really, but loud enough for Al to hear over the music playing inside the Van and the rain of bullets flying at them on the outside. Just putting his arm outside through the window, he fired a burst of bullet at the new opponents, counting on the Vans armor to protect him from the hail of bullets.
[spoiler]
Initiative 14+2d6 (http://orokos.com/roll/337388): 2d6+14 22
First Pass: Setting up the Mood
Second Pass: Called Shot Vitals with a Burst of Fire (APDS ammo) on beetle 1 with Assault Rifle
Called Shot: Vitals (http://orokos.com/roll/337392): 19d6t5 4 DV10+net /AP -5 -2 defense
Third Pass: Called Shot Vitals with Burst of Fire (APDS ammo) on beetle 2 with Shotgun.
Called Shot: Vitals (http://orokos.com/roll/337393): 19d6t5 5 Same
[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
While Isaint concentrated on downing the last Nimrod, sending it spiralling down into the treeline, the last missile flew past, low and fast, to impact with the follow car sending it bounding into the air on a column of fire. eTher and the unidentified gunmen are thrown to the ground in the wash of heat and spray of armoured glass…
The Frenchman valiantly plugged away at the milspec troopers, the armour penetrators finding chinks in their armour but not doing significant harm as far as he can tell whilst Al desperately piloted his limping van towards the fireball on the exit road only to be covered in his own shower of armour glass as the trooper attempted to add to the cab’s ventilation…
***
#73
-
[Jackhammer - Bad Handoff - Revenge {2/1} - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
Jackhammer was about halfway to the wreck that Al made when the military guys started climbing out and shooting. It looked like Frenchman was giving them a reason to dance, but it was going to take more than a few rounds from a pistol to take down that kind of killer. Jackhammer strung up another explosive arrow and launched it at one of the armored thugs, muttering under his breath. "Won't see this coming..."
[spoiler]moving towards crash
archery (http://orokos.com/roll/337503) [15d6t5=3, 4, 3, 6, 6, 6, 4, 3, 6, 4, 2, 5, 1, 1, 1] 5
Explosive arrow: DV 14 AP -4[/spoiler]
-
With the last drone removed from the equation, Isaint refocused again.
'Didn't I bring down a helicopter on you last time? What does it take for you guys to take a hint?'
Without moving from his position up on the hill, Isaint sighted in on the second mil spec armor wearer. Good gear, Isaint had to concede, but there was a reason why he'd found Goodnight's comment about his relationship to APDS so hilarious. Namely, it got results:
Again he pulled the trigger, sending three expensive bullets in a tight grouping towards the armor carrier. 50m were no distance at all for his weapon...
[spoiler]
Ini 26:
Simple action: Aim
Free action: Called shot
Simple action: 3 round Bulls-Eye Burst vs. mil spec armor guy #2
AGI 8 + Skill 8 + Aim 1 + Smartlink 1 - Called Shot 4 = Bulls Eye Burst (http://orokos.com/roll/337509): 14d6t5 4 [14d6t5=5, 1, 6, 6, 3, 3, 1, 4, 3, 2, 3, 6, 2, 3]
12 P AP-13 + Successes
[/spoiler]
-
No sooner had Al thoroughly congratulated himself for taking out the truck than he saw the two armored assholes stagger out of it and start spouting some serious lead his way. In a matter of seconds there were a dozen beams of sunlight criss-crossing the back of the van like some sort of laser alarm field in a bank heist movie, his vehicle's sturdy hide Swiss cheesed by their armor-piercing rounds. He floored it, not to get away from them - hell, half of him wanted to throw the Bulldog into reverse and squash them into their own truck - but to get to the burning limo, where eTher's security was folding like a toilet paper house in a piss storm.
The family was still in that limo, and all that mattered was getting them out.
Well, staying alive was also a consideration - he was seeing double from the crash, and even as he tore the backing off of a stim patch and slapped it onto the back of his driving hand, his windshield exploded outward as one of the soldier boys shot at him through the open back doors. He ducked deeper into the seat, but not before a white hot round tore through his left ear.
He poured on the gas as the synthetic adrenals through his exhausted brain and Frenchie shot back at the child-slaughtering scum.
-
As blood splattered on the dashboard, The Frenchman yield at Al. You're alright, l'ami?
As soon as the van was close to the limo, he jumped out of the vehicle to check inside the damaged car where the family was. His heart was pulsing, he hoped they were still alive.
He could feel the heat of the fires around him and the explosion of the car behind the limo. Hell was breaking loose, but his fear was to see the doc and his family dead.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
Leaping from Al’s dilapidated van, the Frenchman, arm slightly raised against the heat of the blaze, rushed forwards with the vain hope of assisting the family…it was hard to believe that anyone could be alive in there! He rushed past the unidentified gunmen who were slowly picking themselves up, blood dripping from the multitude of minor shrapnel wounds generated when an anti-vehicle missile spalls off armour plate… eTher was clearly dazed by the renewed assault and was struggling to stand with her mauled arm…
***
Fragger indeed didn’t see the arrow coming…caught it straight on the chest and disappeared in the resulting flash…
The other trooper moved with preternatural quickness in response to Isaint’s fire, ducking back into cover, almost as if he’d known about the re-targetting beforehand… they must still have eyes in the sky!
***
#74
-
'You think you are clever, don't you? But maybe I have to reread the manual of that ruthenium polymer poncho if they can spot me that easy.'
Isaint had learned early in his carreer that cover and concealment were quite different things on a battlefield - most important was one thing: With a high powered rifle and armor piercing rounds almost everything counted merely as conceilment...
[spoiler]
Ini 16
I assume the mil spec type hides behind reinforced material with 8 structure and 12 armor (p.197f core)
AP 7 and base damage 12 can penetrate easily:
AGI 8 + Skill 8 + Aim 1 + Smartlink 1 - Blind Fire 6 + 3 Adept Centering= 15
Penetrating Shot (http://orokos.com/roll/338168): 15d6t5 7
19 P AP 7
Barrier Resist (http://orokos.com/roll/338169): 13d6t5 5
Nope. The barrier takes 1 box of damage.
The guy behind gets 18 P AP 7 - and is considered surprised, so no dodging ::) ;D
[/spoiler]
"Vade, Satana!" He fired.
#206
-
With Frenchie already out, Al skidded the van to a stop at an angle, making sure its bullet-riddled bulk came to a rest between the armored shooters and the limo.
He made sure his medkit was where he needed it behind the seat, and absentmindedly patted the cargo pocket containing his trauma patches as he jumped down and threw himself at the limo on the opposite side as Frenchman.
Those geniuses at Victor's back in Seattle had lined his pa's coat with the vest fire retardants money could buy, and now for the first time in his life he was glad he was smaller than his father as he pulled his hands up into the overlarge jacket's sleeves and pulled at the limo's hot door handle, switching to internal air.
As if it mattered - he was already holding his breath in anticipation of what might await inside the limo.
-
Before Jackhammer could make it to the wreck, Al had moved the van out and he and the Frenchman were rooting around in the limo. Clearly they were trying to rescue the family--Jackhammer had just presumed them dead. He turned back around and moved to help them, at very least to settle the alive/dead question and get everyone on the same page. He threw a hammer blow at the car's siding to try and peel a side off wholesale.
[spoiler]Unarmed vs Stationary (http://orokos.com/roll/338364) 4 [18d6t5=2, 5, 2, 2, 3, 1, 1, 2, 2, 1, 6, 4, 4, 1, 5, 2, 4, 6]
19P damage, or 34P vs barrier; destroy 1 sq meter per barrier increment[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
Isaint’s rounds tear through the car that his target is sheltering behind like it was made of wet paper and from Jackhammer’s perspective the view is an impressive spray of blood as the rounds subsequently exit their target… despite that the tough fragger is able to pull himself around and with a pumping action of his left arm send a mini grenade from his forearm mount back along Isaint’s trajectory to airburst above his head…
***
Al’s and the Frenchman’s fears are confirmed…there can’t possibly be anyone alive in the back of the limo, and yet, eTher managed to survive somehow… through the shattered back windows and the pouring smoke the grisly sight can barely be made out of twisted forms, and yet there is something… a vortex of air keeping the flames at bay around one of the occupants, it’s difficult to see properly but they think it might be William in there, and just possibly he is alive…?
As they assess the situation in the split seconds of combat time they are aware of the two gunmen trying to regain their feet, one of them shouting at eTher to “Security Service, stay down!” whilst the other waves his sidearm at Al and the Frenchman “drop your fragging weapons and get away from the vehicle now!”
***
With flames licking over the site entrance the traffic is rapidly backing up back onto the motorway as people are understandably reluctant to drive past the conflagration that has spilled over to the other side of the road with bits of flaming debris from the follow car. From Jackhammer’s vantage point however he can see that a Roadmaster has pushed its way through the jam and is now barrelling up the hard shoulder towards the engagement…as he watches the empty drone racks on the roof retract, ones big enough to launch Nimrod drones, and side mounted panels open and spit out two armed Bumblebee drones…seems they haven’t learnt what happens to drones around the group…!?
***
#75
-
'GRENADE, Saints protect me!'
This thought and getting his head down was almost all Isaint could do before the projectile exploded about a meter away from his head. The noise was incredible and only the earbuds inside the helmet prevented his eardrums from popping. There was very little shrapnell and a lot of high explosive material. The pressure wave forced him to his knee as if the weight of the world itself pressed suddenly down on him.
But for a strange moment he felt a presence at his side, giving him just enough strength to endure.
The smoke blew away and Isaint rose again, unscathed and laughing while small fires burned in the grass around him.
"GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DEO!" 'And' he thought 'to the guy who sold me that priceless armor.'
The Ares Roadmaster caught his eye. Time to return the favor. Two well armored drones, but probably not two riggers. Time to waste some ammo...
On cue his Theme Music App activated: "Lindwurm Massaker" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=KarOg0Q7rBM#t=1176)
[spoiler]
Ini 6
Ok,
Free action: Multiple Attack
Complex Action: Medium Burst (6 Bullets) split at the two drones. I'll spend Edge on this one
(AGI 8 + Skill 8 + Smartlink 1 + Edge 5)/2 = 11
Shoot Drone 1 (Edge) (http://orokos.com/roll/339429): 11d6t5 5 [11d6t5=3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 1, 5, 2, 1, 2]
Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/339430): 1d6t5 0
12P AP 7 Dodge -2 + 5 Successes
Drone 2 (Edge) (http://orokos.com/roll/339432): 11d6t5 3 [11d6t5=2, 2, 6, 3, 1, 3, 6, 3, 4, 6, 1]
Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/339433): 3d6t5 2 [3d6t5=5, 6, 4]
Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/339434): 1d6t5 1 [1d6t5=6]
Edge Reroll (http://orokos.com/roll/339435): 1d6t5 0
12P AP 7 Dodge -2 + 6 Successes
Edge 2/5
Round 3 Ini Ini Round 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/339436): 16+4d6 31 [4d6=3, 3, 3, 6]
The saints are clearly watching over Isaint
[/spoiler]
-
Al had swung the door open only to have Jackhammer appear at his side and take the door, along with a further chunk of paneling off the armored limo like pulling the top off a beer can.
The little man almost froze at the vision of hell that greeted him.
He didn't know how many milliseconds passed as he stood, oblivious to the heat, and tried to make sense of it. Of all of it.
The fire must have reached something flammable. There was a secondary explosion and Al was hanging by his fingertips from a tree branch that jutted alone from the side of a sheer wall of rock. Above him, stretching across his field of vision in every direction, was a web, and at its center was a great, hairy spider. With a gorilla's head.
Below him was a limitless drop into nothing. And hovering in its midst was a snow white Akita.
GORILLASPIDER: Hey, I trusted her too. Webs and strands and weaving and all that jive. Just my type.
AKITA: I still trust her.
GORILLASPIDER: Thanks for that, Little Miss Loyal. But open those color blind eyes of yours. Hit like this takes time to put together. If we'd gone ahead in London, they'd never have had that time. Hell, if Lady Twinkle Dragon was stupid enough to tell give her this location...the two pretty girls are tight, you know.
AKITA: She's no turncoat, and you know it. Have you forgotten Sound Mental Health? It would have been so easy for her. So neat. She put all of her strands in jeopardy to do the honorable thing.
Al's fingers were slipping.
GORILLASPIDER: Everyone has a price. We just had to do it outside the city. We had it all set up, sandwiched there between a power station and an airport. So they couldn't use air assets. Or missiles. And lookee here if that's not exactly what just killed this family.
AKITA: If they're dead.
Shit, he had to hear this bit. He dug his nails into the branch, willed himself to be weightless.
GORILLASPIDER: Their charred corpses lie before our eyes. The happy ending within our grasp now tragic ashes because we fell for that charlatan's tale of Fate. And the flattery, oh, the way we fell for the flattery.
AKITA: Twinkle Dragon's not stupid. She knew the threat level, but showed up with woefully inadequate security. Security so weak they they got caught on the back foot and never managed to fire a shot.
GORILLASPIDER: Probably their precious Fate Web gave them the all clear.
Fingernails pulled away woodchips. Al fell, just able to hear the white dog's words as he dropped past her.
AKITA: And now, bodies burnt beyond recognition. Quite convenient.
The gorillaspider had a quick reply, but Al couldn't hear it.
His eyes opened and there were still explosions going off all over the place, some idiots with toy guns were still acting like they mattered, and Jackhammer was still holding a piece of limousine in his huge hands.
He sure as hell didn't have time for hippy dreams.
He got up. Shouted. "Get yer skinny ass outta there, boy. The spirit'll follow if'n ya move."
He stretched a hand toward the form in the fire, ignoring the heat.
Still, it would have been nice to hear the rest of the conversation.
Se he'd know whether he needed to first kill Silk before hunting down whoever else was behind this atrocity.
-
The Frenchman felt nauseous. Enough to know he'd much rather feel the effect if the toxins he got hit with down in the underground, than witness the death of those he cared for.
And when the security guard started waving a gun at Al and himself, he was close to simply put a bullet in the man's forehead. But instead he placed himself between the guard and Al, his arm spread, offering his body to shoot at, and in the meantime making sure Al was fully covered.
We're on your side dickhead, point that weapon somewhere else and do your job - go help Ether, while we help you live another day.
He looked at the young human form, eTher. She wasn't in good shape but compared to those inside the limo, she was alive. Lady, tell your dog boys to stand down we have more trouble coming!
-
[Jackhammer - Bad Handoff - Revenge {2/3} - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
As the door went clattering across pavement, leaving Jackhammer holding part of the frame, he saw something he didn't understand; one of them, perhaps the boy, was surrounded by some kind of aura. It looked like he was stuck in the middle of hell, but untouched by the shrapnel and inferno. Jackhammer did the only thing he knew to do: hit the panic button on his comm to activate his chem seal, then jump in after him. He grabbed the figure in a bear hug and leaped back out the door-hole.
[spoiler]Fire Damage Resistance (http://orokos.com/roll/339888) 12 [36d6t5=5, 1, 6, 6, 1, 1, 5, 5, 2, 3, 1, 1, 5, 6, 6, 3, 6, 3, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 3, 3, 6, 2, 2, 6, 2, 6, 4, 2, 3, 2, 3]
54 posts[/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
Strength to strength…Isaint’s shrugged off the grenade blast like it was so much hot air and proceeded to calmly dispense justice on the drone forces spewed from the incoming Roadmaster…one of the drones even crashes into the drivers cab causing the vehicle to swerve recklessly, bouncing off some of the stationery cars on the approach road… and then something prickles down the length of his spine, a premonition of something and wise words once heard ‘if you are a sniper don’t shoot from the same location too many times…’ the shots are silenced but it is hard to suppress the crack of a bullet going at near supersonic speeds… the angle is too high for anything other than an aerial shot…more bloody drones?
***
Bloody spooks waving their guns around, did they really think the group looked intimidated, blustering away like that?
“Security Services, DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”
The spirit came out of the car wrapped around William, and then apparently deciding that it’s job was done once he was free of the flaming wreck disappeared back to wherever it is such creatures go to…
***
The Roadmaster, after losing its drone cover, clearly decided that its chances were better with ‘feet on the ground’ and the troops began a rapid combat deployment, fanning out into the traffic jam, making maximum use of the civilian ‘cover’ …fragging hell, the group can see at least three more of the milspec armoured troops, and the others are wearing high grade security armour…how many more of these fraggers can there be?!?
***
#76
-
Al was constantly having to up his estimate of what a badass Jackhammer was - the ork dove straight through the flames and emerged with the boy - spirit and all!
"Shitbricks fer breakfast, son," was all he could exclaim to the ork before hustling the boy back towards his van. It was shot to hell, but it afforded better speed and protection than anything else they had on tap...and he didn't plan to rely on it for long.
Twinkle Dragon's boys from the lead car were finally responding. Hopefully they'd do something to slow the oncoming horde of dismounted sec goons. "Yo Princess, ya stay with yer boys or come with us - choose now!"
Stepping toward the van, the guys with popguns were being held back by Frenchie, but still shouting cop orders at them. Once William was up in the van, Al shouted back at them over the cacophony of gunfire and exploding drones, nodding toward the armored men up on the highway, "Tell ya what, hep cats, we'll stand down when they do, ya dig?"
-
In quick succession, two shots rung out of the sky. Isaint hadn't really seen the shooter, but his combat sense had alerted him at the last second. The last one would have gotten him, but again he felt the steadying presence that just nudged his head a bit to the side. He felt and heard the scraping noise of the bullet passing by.
The reinforcements made him realize that he was now very exposed.
<<Team from Isaint: We have more enemies incoming. Collect who you can and get out. This is going to get worse before it gets better.>>
With this he took his own advice and scrambled down the hill, his new poncho making him a literal blur.
He uttered another mental command: <<Susi, evac protocol, reboot, full defense>>
He relied on the agent to communicate with his bike to meet up with him, while he ran full speed downhill toward his team mates.
#208
[spoiler]
Sprinting (http://orokos.com/roll/340842): 7d6t5 1
Moving 22m towards the street, to meet up with the bike.
[/spoiler]
-
Wheeling the van in a tight arc to face back towards the service area, Al looked at eTher in his side mirror. He couldn't tell what she was going to do. He reckoned he'd give her about a second and a half to decide.
In the meantime, he couldn't even wait that long to let the team know his plan. Switching his throat mic to his microtransceiver and routing it through the encryption on his Fairlight, he spoke fast: <<Reckon I'm gon' punch this crate clean through that there food court, an' when we's outta sight inna kitchens, you yahoos bail with the protectees. I keep goin' an' lead 'em off while y'all jack a new ride an' git some distance all quiet-like.>>
He glanced at William, sparing a moment to try to read the traumatized kid's face. Where was Twinkle Dragon's mage-minder? Why had they protected the boy, and not the Doc? And who exactly were the charred bodies he'd seen? He hadn't even been able to see how many there were.
What the hell had happened in that limo when the missile had hit?
-
You've been warned.
The Frenchman had mentioned the Spook they were on the same side. Enemies of my enemies are my friends after all, and he really hope the armored troops were everyboby's enemies. Nevertheless, the Spook kept his gun aimed at Al and Himself. At least he didn't want them dead just yet. he could only reciprocate the gesture.
He waited the moment the spooks' aim was pointed toward Al as the latter moved the William to the van. In a lightning fast reflex he bore his own gun down and shot at the MI5 guy... well more precisely at the guy's weapon. The Frenchman was all about precision.
[spoiler]
Blast out of Hand on the Spooks gun (http://orokos.com/roll/340906): 18d6t5 7
Using Reflexes instead of Agility for Speed shooting.[/spoiler]
The Frenchman was just done shooting that he turned toward the other Agent and advanced toward eTher. Time to get out of here. You either work with us on this one or you handle the militia coming up our asses. Last chance. he said to the Agent.
Milady, can you walk?
<<copy that, bringing eTher.>> he mentally sent to Al.
-
Isaint noticed as his wireless gear shut down and rebooted. Only three seconds without the support of his electronic gadgets, but that was a long time in combat.
Another crack of gunfire sounded from the sky and Isaint was dimly aware that one of the cars just had gotten a shot through the engine block.
He had to do something event though his smartlink was offline.
For the moment he seemed to have left the line of sight of his attackers. While he concentrated on the sky to find the attacker he prayed for strength and felt as the saints once again listened. "Vade Satana"
[spoiler]
Round 3
Ini 31
SImple action: Attribute Boost BOD (http://orokos.com/roll/340208): 7d6t5 4 [7d6t5=6, 4, 5, 6, 5, 2, 1]
Simple action: Observe in Detail (Visual) (Find Drone) (http://orokos.com/roll/341643): 16d6t5 6[16d6t5=1, 2, 3, 6, 5, 1, 6, 5, 5, 5, 2, 3, 1, 3, 4, 4]
Free action: Adept Centering to cancel negative modifiers on that action for a total possible penalty of -9
Interrupt: -10 Ini, Full Defense
Ini 11
Complex Action: Stealth: Stealth Check (http://orokos.com/roll/341646): 14d6t5 5 [14d6t5=6, 2, 4, 1, 2, 6, 6, 3, 2, 3, 3, 6, 2, 6]
(-3 to visual perception checks to find Isaint)
Move 10 m to break line of sight again
Ini 1
Simple action: Aim
Free action: Adept Centering
Simple action: Shoot Sniper Drone 1:
8 AGI + 8 Skill +1 Aim (Hawk Eye reduces Extreme Range to Long, Adept Centering compensates Long Range modifiers)
Shoot Sniper Drone 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/341647): 17d6t5 7 [17d6t5=6, 2, 5, 6, 1, 6, 6, 4, 1, 6, 4, 6, 3, 4, 3, 2, 4]
12 P AP 7 + Successes
[/spoiler]
Ready to dodge any incoming attacks, Isaint scanned the sky. There, barely visible against the gray of the sky he could make out a shape - some kind of blimp with a high powered rifle all with adaptive camouflage.
Isaint took a moment to make sure he was again unobserved.
He aimed carefully at the object. "Vade Satana". He fired.
-
Al hit the gas the moment eTher was on board, making the Frenchman run and jump to catch his ride. There was too much lead and high explosive flying around, not to mention too many panicked pedestrians, to drive through the lot. He punched it straight over the lawn, making a beeline for the big glass front of the building. It was a bouncy enough ride, but he added a juke here and there just to be safe. Didn't stop something very high velocity from slamming downward into his engine, but it must not have hit anything vital, because no indicators came on and the van didn't miss a beat as it charged across the grass.
-
Jackhammer was on the pavement after diving out of the limo with somebody who might have been William. He saw Al and the Frenchman make a quick escape with the unkillable ladyfriend of theirs and was pretty sure Isaint was off somewhere taking pretty good care of himself, and probably some milspec guys too. But here were some government goons and corpsec grunts getting blown to bits by the serious mooks in the milspec, and Jackhammer found himself in an awkward place. "Drek."
He stood up and made for the building that Al seemed to be driving towards, leaving a smoke grenade to cover his tracks.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
With the marauding troopers exchanging fire with what is left of eTher’s sec detail the spooks clearly decided that discretion was the better part and all that…giving the group a dirty look they retreated from the brawl with the clear subvocalisations of those desperately calling for backup…and then the sec detail disappear under a barrage of explosive force from two of the troopers wielding Alphas, and it seems unlikely that they will surface again…
Al’s van is grinding now as the damage done to it begins to take its toll…if only it will reach the comparative safety of the services main buildings…but then Al sees the minor flaw in his plan…anti ram barriers in the form of concrete planters along the face of the building…still, the frightened rabbit faces of the customers in the café windows might also give him a moments pause…
And then armour penetrators once more riddle the chassis of the van…
***
Isaint lined up his shot on the drone with calm confidence and sent it spiralling down to its doom…only to draw down the wrath of the other sniper drone, and then, somewhat unexpectedly the damn shotgun wielding manic he’d killed moments before…tough fragger had crawled away from the car covered in his blood and been waiting for Isaint to reveal himself again…
***
#77
-
Two shots aimed at Isaint zoomed past him as he got his head down. Right. That Soldier had had it's chance. Isaint prefered destroying drones to shooting people, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do it.
Still, that other sniper drone was a grave danger to him and his teammates even if they were behind cover - as he himself had demonstrated only seconds before.
A little icon blinked in the upper left corner of his vision. 'Took you long enough Susi.'
Even while he raised his rifle to take down the last drone he formulated a mental command:
<<Susi, Agent Cluster: Find 5+ seater car and owner commlink in the immediate vincinity, execute car jacking protocol, alert team when ready.>>
When he said "Vade Satana!" it was with a lot of feeling while the shot cracked across the lot.
'You are next, shotgun boy.'
[spoiler]Round 4:
Ini 33
Free Action Adrenalin boost
Ini 35
Simple Action: Command Agent Cluster
Free Action: Adept Centering (Ignore Long Range penalties)
Simple Action: Shoot Sniper Drone 2 (Short Burst)
AGI 8 + Skill 8 + Smartlink 1
Shoot Sniper Drone 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/342338): 17d6t5 8 [17d6t5=3, 4, 6, 2, 6, 3, 3, 1, 6, 6, 1, 6, 6, 5, 1, 4, 5]
12 P AP 7 Dodge -2 + Successes
Interrupt -10 Ini: Full Defense
Ini 15
Simple Action: Aim
Free Action: Adept Centering
Free Action: Called Shot
Simple Action: Bullseye Burst
AGI 8 + Skill 8 + Smartlink 1 + Aim 1 - Called Shot 1 (Adept Centering)
Shoot Milspec Shotgun Man (http://orokos.com/roll/342341): 17d6t5 7 [17d6t5=3, 5, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, 6, 5, 6, 2, 5, 4, 1, 2, 5, 5]
12 P AP 13 + Successes
Ini 5
Complex Action: Hide and change position Stealth (http://orokos.com/roll/342356): 14d6t5 5 [14d6t5=4, 3, 3, 6, 6, 2, 1, 2, 6, 2, 6, 1, 5, 3] - 3 to enemy visual perception (Ruthenium Polymer Poncho)
Ammo: 8/40 remaining
Ok, now comes some icky matrix stuff.
Isaint orders his Agent to find a van slaved to a single commlink, both within 100m on the parking lot. (That's three bits of information, so I need at least 3 successes)
Next action is a Teamwork check of the Nixdorf Secretaries Agents to my main Agent Susi (Rating 6) for a Hack on the Fly against the owners commlink (They'll reboot if unsuccessful)
With this MARK, Susi will spoof command the car to start up, open door, grant manual control and go wireless offline.
Also the team should receive a message where their new ride is.
Easy, right ;D
[spoiler= Icky Matrix Stuff]
At start round 4 gear has rebooted:
Agent Susi: Ini Agent Susi (http://orokos.com/roll/342329): 13+4d6 24
Agent Cluster
Agent 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/342332): 9+4d6 18
Agent 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/342333): 9+4d6 25
Agent 3 (http://orokos.com/roll/342334): 9+4d6 19
Agent 4 (http://orokos.com/roll/342336): 9+4d6 20
Ini 24
Simple Action: Agent Susi changes mode to running silent for all gear, Smoke and Mirrors loaded with 5 Noise and 5 to Sleaze, Jammer 6 active w/ wireless on (11 Noise for all tracking tests), 7 Noise Compensation through Fresnel Fabric w/ wireless on
Simple Action: Matrix Perception: Looking for suitable sized car in the parking lot (100m radius)
Agent Susi (Matrix Perception) (http://orokos.com/roll/342344): 10d6t5 6
If necessary: Interrupt -10 Ini: Goes on Full Matrix Defense
Ini 18
Agent Cluster prepares Teamwork check: Hack on the Fly:
Agent 1 (HotF) (http://orokos.com/roll/342345): 6d6t5 5 [6d6t5=5, 6, 6, 5, 5, 2] Limit 1
Agent 2 (HotF) (http://orokos.com/roll/342346): 6d6t5 3 [6d6t5=3, 6, 5, 2, 5, 2] Limit 1
Agent 3 (HotF) (http://orokos.com/roll/342347): 6d6t5 3 [6d6t5=6, 6, 4, 4, 1, 5] Limit 1
Agent 4 (HotF) (http://orokos.com/roll/342348): 6d6t5 1 [6d6t5=3, 3, 4, 1, 4, 6] Limit 1
Total: +4 dice and +4 to Sleaze Limit
Ini 14: Agent Susi (HotF)
Attribute 6 + Skill 6 - Running Silent 2 + Teamwork 4 vs. Inuition + Firewall
Agent Susi (HotF) (http://orokos.com/roll/342349): 14d6t5 7[14d6t5=5, 6, 4, 4, 5, 2, 6, 6, 2, 2, 5, 1, 3, 5]
Limit 1 + 5 (SaM)+4=10, all 7 successes count
Ini 4:
Agent Susi (Spoof Command) vs. Logic (Owner/Pilot) + Firewall (Car or Commlink)
Agent Susi (Spoof Command) (http://orokos.com/roll/342350): 10d6t5 5 [10d6t5=2, 5, 3, 6, 4, 5, 6, 4, 2, 5]
Limit 6, all 5 successes count
[/spoiler][/spoiler]
#210
-
"Dagnabbit, I just bought this thing," moaned Al as more bullets shrieked through the van, passing dangerously close to him and his passengers, but missing anything vital in the undercarriage. He didn't even know for sure who was shooting anymore, though it was probably those sons of bitches stranded up on the M20. Well, he'd leave their sorry asses behind soon en..."Oh fer Pete's sake," he spat, spotting the concrete planters where he'd wanted to go in.
Well, there was more than one way to skin a cat, he thought as he shifted course without taking his foot off the gas...
-
The Frenchman had jumped in the back of the van hauling eTher with him. Bullets were flying in and all he could do was giving the Drake a warm smile. He saw Jackhammer running after the van and realized quickly the Ork ouldl have no issue catching up with it.
They were almost being tossed left and right as Al took the most direct route and the Frenchman tried to brace William and eTher, hoping no bullet would pierce the armor for a bit longer.
He explained to them. On my mark you get out and as discreetly as possible make your way to the vehicle I will point to you. Do you get that?
He gave Al a stern look. Ready when you are, my friend.
-
"Roger that, amigo," Al replied through grit teeth - up on the motorway about a hundred yards away he spotted another soldier leveling her weapon at them, and he jerked the wheel the right, then back again to stay on his new course - "Jist tryin' ta git us somewhere's we ain't completely under a damned microscope. Plan ain't shit if'n we's standin' out like a possum's butt in a beauty pageant."
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
Despite the hostile attention he was attracting Isaint took the time to carefully dispose of the last of the drone threats before turning his attention back to the foes on foot…to have to duck the fusillade of fire as the troopers honed in on the muzzle flash from his rifle…
***
Well frag it…so far Al had dodged the bullet, so to speak, of sniper rounds and autofire, and the foe had clearly had enough… a sharp cutting gesture from one of the troopers on the ground and the two grenadiers levelled their Alphas towards the speeding van…
Al was momentarily distracted from the impending shit storm as the rear view mirror was suddenly filled with writhing shapes and a glance over his shoulder revealed eTher literally exploding out of her shredded garments as she resumed her True form and the back of the van was suddenly filled with rippling gunmetal scales edged in blue and silver highlights as she enveloped William and the Frenchman in her considerable wingspan…and turning back the fire washed into the cab amidst the shattering shards of windshield…
***
#78
-
Even as he tore his overpriced eyes away from the abomination in the back of the van, Al was already ducking, dropping his head down onto the shotgun seat.
He didn't know why. Sometimes the voodoo gods just took care of him that way.
No sooner was his body flattened behind the dash than a wall of glass and fire swept over him, flushing through the cab and into the back. The engine that protected him was ripped half from its housing, and treads of the front tires tore away from the ends of an axle snapped in half. The overpressure would have deafened him for life if not for his dampers, and for an eternal quarter second he was sure he was on fire - and would have been without his coat's flame retardant treatment. The concussion made him feel he was spinning, and then he realized the blast and his last jerk of the wheel had conspired to toss the once sturdy Bulldog skyward and then ingnominiously onto its side with a sickening crunch of metal.
He looked around for his bags and shotgun, one half of his mind considering their next move, the other half reminded by the scattered scraps of smoldering lingerie that he really hoped to be around when Lady Twinkle Dragon went back to her lady form.
-
A veritable storm of gunfire engulfed Isaint after this shot: Three soldiers had opened up on him fully automatic. Despite his best efforts he felt as he was hit and staggered backwards, falling to one knee. His bio-monitor chirped: A cracked rip and severe bruising, but no penetration.
With grim determination, he staggered back on his feet. "My turn. Vade Satana!"
[spoiler]
Ini 15
Simple Action: Aim
Free Action: Adept Centering
Free Action: Called Shot
Simple Action: Bullseye Burst
AGI 8 + Skill 8 + Smartlink 1 + Aim 1 - Called Shot 1 (Adept Centering)
Shoot Milspec Shotgun Man (http://orokos.com/roll/342341): 17d6t5 5 [17d6t5=3, 5, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, 6, 5, 6, 2, 5, 4, 1, 2, 5, 5]
12 P AP 13 + Successes
[/spoiler]
-
Congratulating himself on still being in one piece, Al rolled along the side panel that was now the floor, grabbing his demo go-bag as he went.
There were small fires here and there, but he didn't smell gasoline, so the seals on the fuel tank should still be intact.
And he was in no hurry to poke his head out of the wreck and get it shot off or blown up just yet. There was still a lot of gunfire out there - his friends were keeping the bad guys too busy to bother with an insurance shot on the van's corpse. He hoped.
The space was cramped and creepy, the mini-dragon unwrapping itself from William and Frenchie.
If that kid made it through this alive, he'd either come out a badass or a nutjob.
Al's scarred hands worked with blinding, sure speed, slapping a couple of pre-bundled lumps of what looked like dark green clay against the wheel well on the side above the fuel tank, and then sticking a tiny electronic device into it. He looked up at the Frenchman. "Sorta pros these sons o' bitches is, they'll check the wreck fer him, confirm the kill," he said glancing at the shaken teen. "So now we gotta git 'im outta here without bein' seen."
He turned to the monster. "You got any tricks can help with that? Or else just take a run outta here, maybe breathe some fire on 'em or somethin' - get they attention so we can slip 'im away."
-
Jackhammer continues sprinting for the van, feeling good about his escape as he hears bullets but they don't seem to be coming his way. The smoke behind him is soon mirrored by smoke in front of him, however, as a sudden explosion sends Al's van sliding a few meters across pavement on its side, kicking up a shower of sparks in what he was sure was the final act of the vehicle's theatrical lifespan. The only question would be if anyone else's lifespan was going to last longer--especially with what appeared to be a dragon hatching from the ruined vehicle. "I don't get magic."
-
The Frenchman was about to get on top of William as a last attempt to protect the kid when he himself felt engulfed and wrapped in the scaly and warm wings of a small dragon. eTher! He felt the shockwave go through. Enough blast to rip his skin away but the protective shielding form the Drake's body totally diffused the burn.
She unwrapped her wings and he caught her eyes. He would have cracked a sarcastic line, right now but nothing came out of his mouth. It took another second before the Frenchman could break the gaze of the Drake. His sight moved to William, and he embraced him seeing he too was still alive. You're alright Kid. We'll get you out of here shortly.
Al too was alive. It seemed nothing could kill him either and he was already working on rigging what was left of the Van.
I or Jackhammer can make a dash to inside the station with William. or Ether, can you fly? and if so, can you do so carrying somebody like William?
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
A voice forms in the runner’s minds, unmistakeably feminine but not quite the tones of the apparently young girl who had been in the back of the van moments before, rather it holds an ageless gravitas at odds with the urgency of the situation
~I can fly but I would not want to expose myself or the child to the fire from these men. We need to evade them for a short time. The Knights have dispatched a team from Oxford, in fact their matrix assets are already on site and attacking the opposition’s network. I understand there is also an SCO nineteen unit inbound from London in response to the firefight. You do not want to be here when they arrive, I cannot protect you from them~
***
Despite the shortness of breath Isaint dispatches, hopefully for good, the trooper that had been plaguing him but his comrades take a dim view of this, and whilst two bound forwards the rear one sends an accurate burst downrange to slam into Isaint’s considerable protective measures…
***
#79
-
Isaint felt the last hit grazing his helmet, making it ring. For a moment, blackness threatened to overcome him, envelope him and pulling him under.
<<Bio-monitor: Incapacitating trauma detected - administering 2cc Xentho-Vivescamin - you are advised to visit a healthcare specialist within the next 60 minutes or risk unconsciousness. Have a nice day>>
Isaint felt how the drug entered his bloodstream directly at his spine. He stopped himself falling down. He had broken line of sight again, but now they were free to go after his team.
At least there were no more drones at the moment. But his ammo count showed there remained only 5 bullets in the extended mag.
The only grenades he had with him were gas and flash bang - hardly enough to penetrate hardened armor with a chemical seal...
He was distracted by Susi:
<<Car-jacking protocol successful. Your team has been alerted.>>
Ok, new priority, take out the Roadmaster blocking their escape and then... well escape.
Without wasting another second, Isaint rose and catapulted himself into a run, while his rifle went up. Shooting while running was absolute madness, but he trusted the saints to guide him: "VADE SATANA!"
Again he fired, this time towards the massive vehicle's engine. He didn't know if he had hit, instead he increased his speed, trying to evade the hostile gun fire, running for his life towards the stations entrance.
[spoiler]
Drain Resistance test: Adrenalin Boost (http://orokos.com/roll/344132): 14d6t5 4
No drain
Auto Injector administers Stimpatch 6 => Stun Damage is down from 11 to 5 = 1 Wound penalty
Ini: Ini Round 5 (http://orokos.com/roll/344133): 15+4d6 26 [4d6=6, 1, 2, 2]
Ini 26
Simple action: Running (originally a free action, but I take the liberty to downgrade a simple action)
Free Action: Adept Centering
Free Action: Called Shot engine block
Simple action: Called Shot
AGI 8+Skill 8+Smartlink 1-Wounds 1-Called Shot w/ AC 1 -2 sprinting
Called Shot (http://orokos.com/roll/340209): 13d6t5 7 [13d6t5=6, 4, 2, 5, 5, 2, 2, 4, 6, 6, 3, 5, 5]
12 P AP 7 + Successes vs. stationary Roadmaster
Interrupt: -10 Full defense
Defense Test 1: Defense Test 1 (Cover+Full Defense-Wounds) (http://orokos.com/roll/344146): 23d6t5 7 [23d6t5=2, 6, 2, 3, 1, 1, 1, 5, 5, 2, 6, 4, 3, 5, 1, 2, 6, 1, 3, 1, 2, 6, 3]
vs. Complex FA 5 successes
Soak Test 1 (http://orokos.com/roll/344151): 30d6t5 10 [30d6t5=1, 3, 1, 3, 5, 1, 2, 6, 2, 3, 2, 2, 6, 2, 6, 3, 3, 4, 3, 5, 4, 4, 6, 6, 3, 6, 5, 3, 5, 2]
Soak 7
Defense Test 2: Defense Test 1 (Cover+Full Defense-Wounds) (http://orokos.com/roll/344148): 22d6t5 10 [22d6t5=5, 5, 2, 6, 4, 5, 3, 4, 5, 4, 4, 1, 6, 1, 5, 3, 5, 5, 4, 4, 6, 1]
vs. Complex FA 6 successes
Soak Test 2 (http://orokos.com/roll/344152): 30d6t5 13 [30d6t5=1, 5, 2, 1, 1, 4, 5, 1, 6, 6, 2, 6, 6, 2, 2, 3, 1, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 4, 3, 6, 1, 3, 2, 2, 6]
Soak 11
Ini 6
Sprint to station
Running (http://orokos.com/roll/344145): 7 6d6t5 3 [7d6t5=1, 4, 1, 5, 6, 6, 1]
Move 26 meters, -4 to hit due to sprint action
[/spoiler]
#212
-
[Jackhammer - Bad Handoff - Escape {4/2} - Current condition 0 damage - full body armor]
Jackhammer reached the wrecked van to find Al running off inside and William standing with a dragon. Normally this would have made him stop to consider, but Jackhammer was about 90% sure by this time that he was either hallucinating or stuck in some kind of trid. He moved in and went straight for the kid, picking him up as he went along. Then he made for the building that Al was headed towards, hoping the strange little guy had some kind of plan. He was also hoping the dragon was some kind of illusion that one of them had made, but he didn't remember any of them being wizards in particular. But if it was a real dragon, it hadn't eaten William or Al, so maybe it was friendly. That made his head hurt a little to think about, so he just kept running.
[spoiler]
57 posts[/spoiler]
-
Telepathy now? Sheesh. What new machinations would the devil dream up next?
Well, he liked what it was saying about friendly hackers on scene - if they could keep the bandits out of the local cameras, they had a chance to get the bullseyes off them if they could get out of sight in the food court.
But looked like otherwise she was all show and no go. He didn't say anything out loud, and if she could read his thoughts, that was on her for getting into his head.
I can fly but I would not want to expose myself or the child to the fire from these men.
No, don't expose yerself hon. We'll jist take care o' that for ya. As fer the kid, looks like ya already done exposed 'im to enough fire all on yer own.
I cannot protect you from them.
Leapin' lady lizards, toots, like ya been pertectin' folk? Reckon ol' Al's gon' look after hisself, thank ya kindly.
But there was no time to bother speaking aloud anyway. His earbud was chirping that a car was ready, but if the opposition saw them get in it, it'd go the way his van had. Taking a tentative step through where the windshield had been he could see Jack pounding in to their rescue and Isaint hightailing it through a barrage of fire for the food court, shooting as he went.
Damn it was nice working with pros.
Looked like it was time to do a little of that self-exposing he'd been talking, well, thinking about. He grabbed his demo go-bag, hefted his shotgun, and led out towards the food court entrance. They were at a good angle, with mostly no lines on the bandits, but when he did spot one off to his right he broke in that direction - he wanted to be off the line of his companions' escape - came to a stop behind a cement rubbish bin, and made a show of shouldering his weapon.
-
The Frenchman was lucky to be alive, saved certainly by eTher's wings' wrap.
Witnessing iSaint's action he started to understand why he may have failed what he had attempted against him back in Istanbul. One thing was for sure, the man couldn't die now.
Closer to him, he quickly realized what Al was trying to do. They were only the four of them left on the run, but he felt very honored and admiring of his companions.
He sent a message via his micro-transceiver : >>Al, I'm in best shape, I'll handle that. You and Jack assure William get out of here safely. I'll assist iSaint.<<
Without waiting any longer, he moved away from the van to take partial cover behind the concrete blocks that protected the station and positioned himself to defend iSaint's dash.
He saw the trooper who was shooting at his fellow runner and fired back, hoping to both distract the man's attention and even better, get him some hurt.
[spoiler]
Initiative 14+2d6 (http://orokos.com/roll/344789): 14+2d6 17
17 - Simple: take aim
free: Called Shot
- Simple: Bullseye Burst to the trooper shooting ISaint.
Bullseye burst on trooper targeting ISaint 21 - 2 called shot (- x modifier) (http://orokos.com/roll/344790): 20d6t5 6
damage 8P + net hits AP -7
7 Shoot again, to draw attention on him. and maybe get a trooper hurt.
Bullseye burst on trooper targeting ISaint 21 - 2 called shot (- x modifier) (http://orokos.com/roll/344792): 20d6t5 9
damage 8P + net hits AP -7
[/spoiler]
-
While he sprinted, Isaint noticed for the first time consciously that the Drake had taken on his true form. Impressive, but not really his concern at the moment. He saw the Frenchman draw his weapon and fire in his direction. For a moment he was back in Turkey until he remembered that they now were on the same team. The gun fire erupted once more, but it only served to encourage him to more speed.
The Stim dulled the pain in his ribs, but to any trained observer it must have been clear that he was hurt - not a good thing to be on a playground that was swarming with predators...
'Just a few more meters...'
-
Al heard Frenchie's message as he sighted in on one of the bandits. Well bless his green frog heart.
Thing was, the Frenchman didn't know that the voodoo gods would never let Al die.
Still, two guns - and targets - were better than one!
<<Don't worry 'bout ol' Al none, kemo sabe. Hell don't want me, an' heaven is full. But yer welcome to join the party!>>
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
As the foe move to consolidate their advance on the service building in pursuit of the runners there is a brief lull in the fire and some evidence at least that the hackers eTher mentioned are beginning to monkey with the enemy…and then they resume a suppressive barrage on the area while they reposition themselves to better target the group.
eTher, with an audible snarl, claws her way across the roof of the van, and in a momentary pause sticks her snout over the edge and proceeds to immolate one of the unfortunate troopers. The flame burns incandescent, the power being displayed unmistakable!
The Frenchman’s response is equally effective, his rounds slamming home into the trooper that had been swinging his weapon round to track Isaint’s blurred form as he too made for the services building through the cover of the car park…
***
#80
-
Al's plan worked - people started shooting at him.
But then, to be fair, they were shooting at just about everyone. So maybe his plan hadn't worked.
In any case, his objective had been to get shot at. Not shot. He dropped down fully behind the rubbish receptacle, scanning behind him for a glimpse of William as high-velocity slugs spanged off the concrete cylinder.
-
Isaint enjoyed a second to catch his breath leaning behind a concrete column and wondered about the state of his ribbs. Dimly he was aware of the people who had gone to ground beneath flimsy plastic tables.
His fingers shook a bit when he removed the almost empty magazine and exchanged it for the other, full one.
'Have to do something about that muzzle flash. With a mental command he closed the gas vent and used his new myomeric back pack's search function. There. It had found the suppressor he had acquired for his trusty Ruger. Thankfully, the identical caliber meant it also fit the Crockett.
Despite the punishment he had gone through, the poncho still worked. Wearily he got on his feet. Time to act like a sniper again.
<<Thanks for the cover fire. I'm resupplied and ready to return the favor. The Roadmaster should be no longer road worthy. Has anyone anymore IR-Smokes ready?>>
[spoiler]
Since it seems like I wasn't shot this round, round 6 consists of readying gear:
Ini round 6 (http://orokos.com/roll/345307): 15+4d6 27
Ini 27
Simple action: Remove Magazine
Simple action: Insert Magazine
Ini 17
Free action: Command Weapon to deactivate GasVent
Free action: Instruct myomeric backpack to retrieve suppressor
Complex action: Retrieve suppressor
Ini 7:
Complex action: Install suppressor
Free action: Contact team
Attribute Boost AGI ends:
Resist Drain (http://orokos.com/roll/345308): 14d6t5 6
No Drain
[/spoiler]
-
Bullets whizzing above and all around the tiny shelter Al was squatting behind, Al listened to Isaint and watched as laterally as a lead element of the troopers pincered left and approached the ruined Bulldog.
<<Nothin' that fancy>> he replied to the team at large <<but do ya one better - jist keep yer heads down till that hombre at our two o'clock approaches the van - ol' Al gon' do his thing an' you'll know when ta make break for the buildin'.>>
He'd figured they'd check out the van, try to confirm their kill so they could go home. But they weren't taking any chances - concentrated fire had already driven dragon lady off the top of the overturned vehicle and now as they got closer they sprayed it with rounds that punched through the wreck's armored hide like wet tissue. Then one approached close enough to toss something through the shattered windshield. He immediately turned to get a bit of distance.
Al didn't give him the chance, fingers flying across his Fairlight's touchscreen, entering the code that detonated four kilos of plastique, and with it the van's fuel cell and the trooper's grenade. The man was vaporized as the fireball shot skyward, bright enough to dazzle Al's eyes right through his closed lids and past his flare compensators. The blast's pressure blew out a hundred car windows, knocking the other nearby troopers off their feet and Al was racing for the entrance to the service area's main structure, dozens of car alarms screaming in his wake.
-
eTher shook her scaled head in a vain attempt to stop the ringing sound
~well that got their attention~ and the amusement is clear in the mental voice that fills the runner's heads. Indeed, it has got everyone's attention, even the most oblivious of wage slaves is now aware that the shit is hitting the fan outside and there is a mad scramble to get away...except nobody seems to be clear in which direction to go except for away from eTher's sinuous form.
~my people are nearly here, let us find somewhere to conceal ourselves until they can intervene...unless you prefer to engage the foe and lead them away from William and myself? I sense your doubt but let me make this clear...the boy stays with me!~ there is no doubt about the nature of her resolve, although it is easier to dismiss the voice in your heads when she reforms into a naked and vulnerable looking young girl, one badly burnt at that with her arm hanging uselessly at her side...
-
Isaint called the team: <<You heard the scaly lady. There's a small army out there that just got organized again. I'd suggest you get in here and we pull back to a more defensible position where their numeric superiority is neutralized. I'm preparing a little package to hopefully slow them down.>>
While he composed the message, Isaint had recovered a roll of ductape from his backpack and began to bundle his three remaining flash bang grenades. When he had finished he stuck a small sensor tag to the package. With a swift movement, he half threw half slid it into the entrance area.
-
Diving across the building's threshold and behind some pleather-upholstered seating, Al heard the voice ringing through his mind again and poked his head up in time for the money shot. Much as he hated getting shot at, there weren't many bad situations couldn't be made at least a little better by pretty naked ladies. Of course that fact that a few seconds earlier she'd been a giant lizard took a lot of the fun out of it. Some things you just couldn't unsee.
Staying low, he made his way to where Jack had gone to ground with William. She wanted to stick by William, more the merrier, but she was late to the party. Al and his mates had been by the boy's side from the start of this mess.
And the only mistake they'd made was leaving him with her.
-
The Frenchman felt the heatwave from the van's blast. When he peeked around the concrete block he was taking cover behind, he saw Al was ready to follow Jack and the kid. To his second surprise, the Drake had recovered her Human form and he didn't look good.
The Frenchman removed his coat, ran low toward eTher to cover her with the coat and took her with him inside the building. Yeah, he was a sucker for damsel-in-distress looking chicks.
-
As the goateed assassin ushered the girl through the doors, Al shouted from under a synthwood table, "Dammit, Frenchie, few enough pleasures in this here dirty business, you gotta go playin' knights o' the damned round table!"
-
"Ok guys and gal. This is it. The whole thing has gone to shit for the third time... Are you kidding me - where is the rest of the family? Is he... is he the only other one who made it out of the car? By the saints..."
Isaint fell silent, deflating visibly before talking again with renewed resolve but also a definitive note of melancholy in his voice.
"If that reinforcements are indeed on their way you should take William back to one of the kitchens with a walk in freezer or similar heavy stainless steel appliances. It's his best chance if they start bombing this place.
We others need to establish a defensive perimeter further down the food court - quickly."
#216
-
Al was deeply opposed - right down to his bones opposed - to letting William out of his sight again for even a moment.
But he also respected Isaint's judgement. And knew they'd only win this by acting together. By making their whole greater than the sum of their parts.
So he compromised and pushed his way through a screaming crowd to a position behind a food oounter right next to the door William was being whisked through.
On his way past Isaint's spot, he answered, "Limo's full o' charred corpses." And added in a quieter voice, "Couldn't tell who none of 'em were."
Then he was behind his counter - all the way behind it. Reckoned he'd hear some people dying before the bandits ever got this deep in.
-
Jackhammer was still looking for a place to stash the kid and throw back some serious fury when Isaint burst in and started assessing the situation. That guy had to be ex-military the way he handled things. Jackhammer nodded and moved forward, shouldering through crowds of panicked people and ill-placed furniture to find the biggest restaurant in the place and make for the kitchen. He couldn't move too quickly without tripping over something, and carrying a mostly helpless kid, he really didn't want to squash him between a plasteel chair and 140kg of armored ork. He found a freezer and did a quick sweep to make sure there weren't any absurdly coincidental threats, then dropped William inside. Jackhammer then set about the task of finding spare aprons, table cloths, or anything sufficiently fabric-like and tossing them to the kid. He wasn't sure how much cold the kid could handle, and he really didn't want to have to thaw him out later.
-
Wouldn't those Knights slay the dragon instead? He answered Al quizzically.
He reloaded his guns and looked around the hall. He picked a counter opposite to Al's spot where they could cross-fire at the incoming army but minimize the risk of friendly fire. Not that the Frenchman counted on missing, but one was never too cautious.
It's gonna be an interesting few minutes... ISaint, just remember I need you alive for that beer you promised. Jack, Al, you'll be more than welcome ti join us at this table. So, don't catch any bullets with your teeth, and Al, ask your Voodoo god to give us a bit of your immortality too.
-
Isaint went to complete the crossfire by positioning himself across the restaurant William had gone in with Jackhammer. It wasn't the best cover since he only had a hotdog stand cower behind, but it left him enough room to change position in a hurry.
[spoiler]
Small unit tactics Crossfire check: Surveying the room
SUT Crossfire (http://orokos.com/roll/348611): 1514d6t5 3 [15d6t5=6, 2, 3, 4, 2, 6, 6, 4, 1, 4, 4, 2, 1, 1, 3]
SUT Crossfire: Positioning (http://orokos.com/roll/348612): 1514d6t5 4 [15d6t5=1, 1, 4, 6, 2, 2, 4, 6, 2, 5, 3, 5, 1, 2, 1]
No dice, unless you lot manage to create a few more teamwork dice for me (INT+SMT or INT-1)
Edit: Forgot my wound penalty, but it doesn't change the result
[/spoiler]
Again he tried his best to help his team mates to position themselves optimally for the engagement, but he wasn't entirely happy with the result.
To the Frenchman he called: "Sure, if we make it I'll personally organize a keg from Bavaria. Afterwards I might even tell you my name."
-
Al shouted back to the Frenchman: "It's gods, kemo sabe, as in plural. Reckon ol' Al's in good with most of 'em. 'Cept fer the spider-lookin' one. Got no truck with him. But anyhoo, how'dya know I ain't had 'em make ya immortal already? Yer still breathin', ain't ya?"
-
The Frenchman smiled. In this moment of tension, it was good.
I should have known one god was not enough for Good Ol' Al. And here I though I was just too pretty to get hit....
Between fully armored Jack and ISaint and Al's Heavy Jacket, the Frenchman felt indeed a bit out of place with his Berwick Suit on, but that was also what gave him his class, and who knows, maybe it was making people think twice before shooting him down. That or Al's Gods. Whichever.
-
Sitting on the greasy floor behind the counter, Al shook his head and grinned. Damn frogs and their prettyboy ways.
It was getting quieter by the second as more and more people streamed steadily out any exit they could find.
And the less he could hear, the more he could smell. Realized he hadn't eaten anything since that weird underground hotel they'd holed up in. Reached up and forward and grabbed a fresh soyburger off the little slide the kids in the back pushed them down for the counter girls to grab.
The new BBQ flavor. Maybe it was his lucky day after all.
-
Isaint received a little message from his agent: Outside the icons of the attackers had gone dark - not just silent but completely offline.
<<Heads up. The opposition has just switched off their wireless gear. That's good in regard to grenades, since they can't airburst them and we'll have a chance to run away before they explode. But it also indicates that they are in position to attack. Those armors are heavy, so I don't expect them to come through the skylight without heli support, but they might have found the service entrances, so be ready for an attack from the rear while they storm the front.
They have superior numbers and superior armor but lack information. Let's try to keep them from learning anything. If necessary trade space for time. Don't let them corner you and fall back in time. Tell if you need cover fire to change position. If anyone has thermo smoke grenades left, now is the time to ready them.
Al, if you have some of your boom stuff left, could you prepare an emergency exit through a wall? We might have to leave this building in a hurry. Although, in a pinch we can just have Jackhammer do a impression of his street name.>>
#218
-
Lunchtime, dammit.
<<Roger that>> Al grumbled, before stuffing his mouth so full of BBQ-flavored soy he nearly choked. Without poking his head up, he pictured the place in his mind. If they came in the front - east-ish - and also one of the many back service entrances - west-ish - then they wanted to take off south-ish. He remembered a stretch of wall on the south side between the McHughs and the Nukit Burger where all they had was a row of those overpriced massage chairs. That'd do.
He prepped the cord he'd need and attached the radio detonator before moving, then darted for the spot, keeping his profile below table level. Once he was there his fingers flew across the wall at a frightening speed, fast enough that an untrained observer would have thought it was careless, but he knew it was solid.
Twenty-three seconds later he was back in his spot, chewing on a soyburger without dropping the cigarette out of the corner of his mouth, commlink in his pocket set to trigger the detonation on a voice command.
All he had to do was remember not to say "Nadja Daviar in a red thong" out loud. At least not until he was ready for things to get real loud indeed.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
The tension of waiting isn't eased much by the banter, or the occasional gun shot from outside as the crowd fleeing the building come under fire...either the foe want to bottle them up to add to the confusion or they are taking out those with an unfortunate resemblance to the runners. It all seems just a little too extreme, too callous a disregard for civilian lives...the prize must be great to risk the sanction of their rival corporate peers...
Moments later eTher informed the team that her detail was thirty seconds out and that they wished to share intel with the runners on site...for those that accepted the feed there is a sudden influx of data from the Precision TM Tac Feed...
Outside cameras facing the parking area seem to have been largely obliterated by Al's demolition efforts, but there are feeds from the internals and the service yards at the rear...ones that show a number of bodies in the doorways where they have been gunned down...
There are headcam shots from the incoming forces, twenty of them, riding in what looks like the belly of two combat helos which explains how they are able to be here so fast and indicates how seriously this is being taken. They aren't typical corp types and for those in the know, they bear the tell-tale indicators of the Knights of Rage, Celedyr's personal praetorians... there are also rapidly skimming vid feeds for forward spotter drones which are already on station and relaying events... the troopers have gathered three cars in the front area and look set to breach with them as battering rams. They have clearly taken those precious few seconds to mine the anti-ram barricades and at best they will be entering just before the Knights can intervene...at worst they could be coming in any moment...
***
#82
-
Al glanced at the display on his commlink screen. There were a hell of a lot of feeds - way too much to keep track of in 2D, and he couldn't risk AR after that tasty soyburger.
Step out of the building and get shot by a sniper. Check.
Cars about to come crashing in. Check.
Pretty much all he needed to know.
But not for the first time in the last minute he wondered about the kid. Bodies were piling up here at a service area on a major motorway in broad daylight. No way this was going unnoticed by the powers-that-fooled-the-masses-into-thinking-they-were-safe-enough-to-go-to-work-and-then-buy-things-every-day.
And they were still here...for William?
And, if the rest of the family really were dead, why had eTher - able to save one of them - opted for the boy?
Still crouched well down behind the counter, his mind raced back over the past few days for anything that hinted at the doc hadn't been the real target, but it didn't add up. The first extraction team had gone for the doc. The boy had had virtually no protection. The druids had wanted the doc.
Everything was wrong.
Even this Knights of Rage had a whole Mito Komon/Popeye's spinach thing going on. He'd always wondered why, canned spinach not exactly a scarce commodity, Popeye generally let himself get kicked around within an inch of his life before downing the leafy greens. Why not just lead with that?
And here eTher's got a damned air cav unit at her beck and call and she shows up for the family with a light detail of lousy second-stringers?
He checked the hand-loaded APDS slugs in his clip and measured the ticking seconds by the burn of the paper of his Lucky Strike.
-
One look at who was coming to rescue the drake gave Isaint the distinct impression, that they wouldn't want to stay here once the two corporation forces clashed.
'Never cut a deal with a dragon, that's one of the most basic rules. Why do we keep violating them.'
But for now the weaponized cars were of greater concern to him. They had no capabilities to stop them - short of going on the offense and shooting the cars' engines. Not a prospect he relished - or thought to be very feasible in the amount of time they still had left.
There was only one option... "Ok, they'll breach with cars. We'll have to force a crash the moment they enter. Concentrate fire on the left tires. Hopefully that forces a swerve and blocks the following cars. We have snipers surrounding us, so we probably won't want to leave before the cavalry arrives. But the very moment the enemy is engaged we should pull back and get the hell away, 'cause I really don't like being that close to the Knights of Rage."
-
The Frenchman was listening to ISaint position the team and the various input from the others. Brief glimpses of boards and AROs flashed in his mind. Preparations. Planning. For what?
His mind focused back on what ISaint was saying. And it all made sense. Including Al's and Jack's opinions.
He too had a hard time understanding why the party involved wanted them dead so much, now that they had the Doc burnt to ashes. His only other solution was they also wanted eTher dead... or...
He looked at and called Al. He only pointed to the top of his neck behind his ear where the port to his datalock was. As far as he could remember, only the team and the Doc knew they had downloaded his research into the Frenchman's head. Was it why they were continuing their assault? to kill him too and erase all of the Doc's research?
-
Frenchie called, Al looked.
Dammit!
He'd totally forgotten they'd backed the Doc's research up in the frog's head.
If these yahoos knew that, which seemed unlikely, then they were after the Frenchman.
If they simply assumed the runners had backed up the data in some way, which seemed more plausible, then they were all marked for death.
One more blasted piece to conuse the puzzle.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to spring up and take out a left front tire the moment they breached.
<<Isaint, you gon' blow yer wad with the cars, or wait fer the follow-ons? Jist wanna know when ta blink, ya know?>>
-
<<I'll try to wait, but the chance is high, that they'll be smashed. I'll give you all a signal.>>
Isaint concentrated on the live feed. The sniper up on his old position he could handle, but the second one would probably get him. Oh well, it couldn't hurt to give it a try: <<Knights of Rage from Defending Team Ether. While you are en route could you take out the sniper positions at the marked locations? Thank you very much in advance.>>
#220
-
Once Jackhammer had secured the kid in the freezer, he took his position behind a counter to help Isaint create his killzone for the incoming squad. Although he was more of a bow hobbyist, right now he suddenly wished he had some of those serious rifles he'd practiced with at the range. Still, he strung up an explosive arrow with a determined scowl and waited for the inevitable entry. Whoever came through that window first was in for an unpleasant welcome.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:48, Motorway Services, M40]
<<Knights of Rage from Defending Team Ether. While you are en route could you take out the sniper positions at the marked locations? Thank you very much in advance.>>
<<Confirmed ground team, spotters are on site and will neutralise>> and sure enough, just as hell breaks loose in front of the team, they are greeted with the welcome sight of a drone gun sight aligned on the sniper positions and then a puff off gore as the long range high velocity rounds eliminate that particular group of threats...
But that is all seriously secondary to the fireball that removes the ram barriers and the three purloined SUVs that come crashing through what is left of the front of the services building. They've chosen well and for a brief moment the cars resist the group's return fire but in truth they never stood a great chance of shrugging off the combined explosives and armour penetrators. What they do is provide some measure of cover for the foe advancing behind who would otherwise been at the complete mercy of that same whithering cross fire...
Before the runners can retarget on the corp soldiers they are on the receiving end of their own incoming barrage... the grenadiers on the outer edges of the wedge sling mini grenades in the general direction of Isaint and Al out on the wings whilst their tag team buddy streams hot lead at about waist height in that same general area to limit the runner's chances of retaliation. The ones behind the central car split their fire in wide arcs across the centre of the open hall whilst more precise shots home in on Jackhammer, the Frenchman so far having escaped notice...
***
#83
-
Isaint was ready for the grenades - that had been the main reason he had taken position behind the hotdog cart instead of a more sturdy bar. With an almost Olympic grade dive roll he found another cover behind the row of massage chairs. 'Time to return the favor'
<<Avert your eyes, Flash Bang >> and with a mental command he detonated the package of three concussion grenades behind the intruders.
It gave only a moment respite, but that was enough for him to bring his rifle back into play. Pray, call out his mantra, shoot, pray, call out his mantra shoot, while he gave his best to avoid being hit by the suppressive fire. All the while he knew that they acted on borrowed time. The chemicals in his blood made him alert kept the pain down to a dull ache and prevented him from feeling anything else.
'You know that you can't keep this up?'
'Shit not you again. You are a hallucination.'
'Maybe. But maybe I'm also a real ghost. You are carrying quite a lot of those with you since the hospital in Prague.'
'I really don't have time for this. Can't you see that I'm in the middle of a firefight?'
'And yet you can spare thoughts to answer me. Say, why is it that whenever you are working with a group they keep dying or getting left behind?'
'The run was finished, we delivered the family whole and safe.'
'That's not what I'm asking. You let them down underground, you couldn't keep a civil tongue in your head and lost the support of two powerful mages. That directly led to the Flowers attacking you and you loosing your last mage and hacker. You had to visit the hospital, delaying the transaction. And now you are in a service station near Oxford, seeing the rest of your team killed - and you will survive. Again.'
'Not if you keep distracting me. Besides, the knights are on their way. At any time now we can just open the wall and get out. The snipers are down.'
'But why are you keeping them here if you can do that?'
'Because we won't abandon the kid.'
"BECAUSE THE MONSTERS WON'T GET HIM! YOU HEAR ME? YOU WON'T GET HIM"
Unconsciously he had risen from his cover and sent burst after burst against the armored targets. He felt a bullet graze his hip, making him miss his shot, but he kept firing. A red ring began to form around his vision. It got increasingly harder to steady the rifle. Another grenade exploded close to him. He felt the shockwave, felt the shrapnel bouncing of his helmet.
'Still alive?'
-
Al had forgotten more firefights than he remembered. Which was a lot of firefights for a simple day-laborer.
Hell, he figured he might have been in even more firefights than women's beds, which would be saying a lot.
But this was not a firefight - it was a damned small-scale blitzkrieg.
They stopped the SUV charge, then the grenades had started flying even as a torrent - a freaking wall - of suppressive fire had started literally disassembling the top half of the Cap'n Beef counter he was hiding behind.
A clatter in front and a grenade tore a hole in the counter, spraying his face with vicious wood splinters even as Isaint gave the warning and the whole place lit up like they were standing in the sun.
The suppression paused briefly and Al knew that was the moment to change position but he just crouched there. He tried to gulp air but remembered he'd switched to internal in case they used gas. Screw it - he opened up his esophagus and sucked for air, but it was superheated from yet another nearby grenade and he screamed in pain. He couldn't hear it though, because his dampers had kicked into overload-mode, just sealing off his hearing completely in the face of concussion after concussion.
And then the moment was lost, the suppression was almost immediately back online, and then a third grenade bounced down next to his knee behind the counter with a dull clunk. To stand would be to be riddled with enemy fire, to stay would be a quicker death by immolation. He was half concussed and half hopped up on stims and the thought of just being done was almost tempting.
But that wasn't how he'd been brought up.
And it wouldn't do William a damned bit of good.
He kicked the metal sphere hard, sending it bouncing behind a large soymixer, then crawled faster than he ever had around to the other side of the big fridge they displayed the drinks in.
The blast tore through the kitchen. It nearly disintegrated three quarters of the fridge, which was a good thing since what was left fell over onto Al.
But there it was - three seconds - an eternity to Al's hyped up reflexes - three seconds - one for each emotion - shock - terror - and now anger. He brought himself out from under the shattered appliance and took up a new firing position, looking for someone to kill.
-
After the satisfying success of his first arrow combined with the fire from his teammates, Jackhammer barely had time to reach his grenade before the next vehicle was in and bullets were flying by. He ducked behind the counter as armor-piercing rounds perforated the plasti-board around him and shattered the menu projectors suspended above, creating a shower of plastic and circuitry. All things considered, holding his bow in one hand and a can-shaped explosive in the other, he didn't feel entirely safe against the shower of hot lead.
He could hear the sound of explosions near Al and Isaint's position, but couldn't tell if there were any other sounds from that direction, like returning fire. He'd seen these guys survive a lot so far, so he wasn't sure what it would even take to kill one of them. But he was pretty sure multiple grenade rounds were more serious than malevolent spirits or broken bottles and homemade gas grenades. He knew that once that side of the food court was powdered they'd turn all their guns on this side, and he wouldn't have a chance. He reflexively starting looking for an exit, a way out of certain death, when he saw the freezer he'd just stuffed a kid into a moment earlier. He knew that these guys were after that kid, and they were playing for keeps--that missile that incinerated the rest of the family, it was surely meant for all of them. And the fact that they pressed the attack even after that, well, they sure weren't going to just turn around and clock out now.
Jackhammer looked back down at his bow and his grenade. Two simple weapons against military-level warfare. He shook his head, realizing what had to be done. "Time for a hot meal, fraggers." The can went sailing through the air.
[spoiler]composure (http://orokos.com/roll/352082) 2 [7d6t5=4, 1, 5, 2, 5, 3, 3][/spoiler]
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:48, Motorway Services, M40]
Despite the small sun opening up in their midst the volume of incoming fire only dims for a moment while the central group recover their wits. There is barely a let up as one lays down a horizontal curtain of fire while another reloads…keeping their heads low and returning fire when they can the runners are holding them at bay – they clearly aren’t insane enough to break from significant cover – or are they? With sickening clarity Al realises that the fire coming their way is only incidentally targeting them, that is merely a bonus, but instead is laying great chunks out of the structural columns supporting the very large clear span above their heads…they are trying to bring down the fragging building!
***
#84
-
'Time to get the others out.'
<<Team from Isaint: Time to open our emergency exit. Al, blow the wall away. The knights have taken care of the snipers. The jacked car is waiting around the corner. I'll try to distract them with a flash-pak, find the frequency code attached for your flashcomp>>
Dropping the rifle in its sling he fished out the modified flash-pak that he had commissioned especially with additional power in the UV spectrum - most useful against vampires, but in a pinch also of good use to dazzle the enemy long enough to enable an escape.
#222
-
<<Amen ta that. They's goin' fer the supports - roof gon' come down on us any second.>>
Al looked at his comm and quickly synced his flare compensation to Isaint's flash pak.
<<I'm goin' through the kitchen after William, but the wall on your side comes down in three, two, one...>>
And then Al broke for the kitchen doors, muttering "Nadja Daviar in a red thong," into his commlink. No time to admire his handiwork, he had to be satisfied with the sound of the muted whump that took out the wall as he dove through the back service doors into the larger food prep area.
-
The Frenchman did what was required to bring down the vehicles and it seemed to work, until a rain of bullets came flying in all direction. He quickly noticed somehow he wasn't directly targeted and wanted to use this small advantage to get in position for a couple shots that could count. He moved around the counter, ready to aim at a armored clad man when it came to he heard iSaint's warning. A quick look at the columns and the damage they had already taken confirmed it.
The Frenchman was the closest to Al, and he could dash across the room and try to get the the hole Al was about the make, or make sure l would make it in one piece inside the kitchen and follow suit. He stood up fire some suppressive shots to cover Al and yielled I'm right behind you l'ami. before breaking through the kitchen door as Al did.
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:48, Motorway Services, M40]
As the runners stumble from their respective refuges Isaint is rewarded by the uncanny AR sight of himself viewed from above as he exits…the view zooms in and he rapidly becomes aware from the downdraft that it is the drone moving physically closer rather than a camera change…the Nimrod tilt wing came to a hover a few meters away, the barrels of its high velocity machine gun gently rotating…
With a horrendous shriek the building behind the group collapses in on itself, entombing anyone unlucky enough to still be inside. Smoke and flame leap into the sky and the Nimrod is buffeted by the unexpected turbulence…
Coughing and panting, well all except Al, the rest of the team struggle out through the kitchen to emerge into the summer air. eTher, somehow nude once more, stands, like some demented fire goddess, sparks flicking through her wind tossed hair, her arm carefully encircling William, to await her Knights…
“Go, you have done your duty and more, now it is time to fade away before the authorities arrive with their awkward questions. I will take care of William now, and my Knights will look after us both. There…”
And sure enough two combat transport choppers hove into view coming from the west, flying nape of the earth, two more Nimrod gun drones in close support
***
#85
-
"Duty an' more, huh? Jist make sure the check is inna mail, chica. Though I'll admit I'd prefer a few answers to cash, when we got some time." Like, where were your precious knights in shining armor when the rest of the family needed them? he thought.
He looked around to make sure Jackhammer had made it clear, and also saw that French had come out the same way he had, and gave the guy a nod. "Looks like she din't appurciate yer fancy jacket none," he said with a grin. He had his eyes take plenty of pictures of her for later - just in case he ever managed to get the giant lizard image out of his head - then winked at the kid and walked past her. He gave a loud whistle, and by the time he'd joined Isaint at the stolen car Spike was bounding up.
The whole place was still a combat zone, and time was as scarce as answers. "Road don't look particular hospitable. Ol' Al's thinkin' of hoofin' it out over the fields. Oxford ain't far, an' if'n you'll recall, I left a clean Beamer there. But we gotta meet up, see if whatever's stored inna Frog's head can shed any light on what the hell went on here." He dropped his spent smoke to the ground and stamped it out, as if it's tiny ember made a difference in the conflagration surrounding them. "Help us figure out who ta kill first."
-
Isaint shook dirt from his mask but put it on again immediately since the collapsed building still spat out plastcrete dust like a miniature volcano.
Ignoring the drake for the moment Isaint walked over to William and laid a hand on his shoulder. In a low voice he said: "I'm sorry for your loss. If you need help or just want to talk, give me a call." After that he gripped the boy's hand while passing a small Stealth RFID chip. In a whisper he said: "Activate it if you are in danger."
Than he turned to eTher: "I'd say thank you for your help, but I think we are quits in that regard. Take good care of William..." He left the 'or else' unsaid.
Turning back to the rest of the team he said: "I've got my bike and a transport drone, I'll meet you in Oxford. Jackhammer, I understand if you want to terminate our partnership now and get away as fast as possible.
In that case I wish you luck. Keep the Ruger as a memento."
-
"Yeah, Jack, reckon I'll unnerstand too, if'n ya decide this sorta show ain't quite yer cup o' tea...but I won't like it none. Ya bring a whole lot to the table young Paduan. An' there's been a whole lotta nasty in this here business that jist don't sit well with ol' Al. Love ta have ya on board to help run it all down. Yer call, amigo."
He nodded at Isaint and French, adjusted his shoulder bag, and turned to go. "Anyone else wants ta come 'long overland, gotta go now, afore some trigger-happy corp cowboy notices us, or else this here little pick-me-up," he showed them the back of his hand with the patch on it, "poops out an' I fall asleep where I stand."
And with that, he and Spike were off. They took advantage of what cover they could, making their way to the the back side of the parking area where it ran up against the adjoining farmland in the direction of Oxford.
-
The Frenchman dusted off his suit. Chaos was surrounding them with the arrival of eTher's boys. He picked up his greatcoat while watching her William take up flight on the helicopter, A weird feeling inside of him. Out of everyone why had eTher be so inclined on saving the teenager? He may never know, but for now all that matter was that he and his remaining companions where still in one piece and they all had a chance to escape.
I probably don't have the right shoes for it, but I'm gonna tag along Al. ISaint, maybe use that transport of your to give Jack a ride back to Oxford. And Pal, don't disappear on me, I'm counting on the beer.
-
"You can take my bike. I'll take my drone - time to test the valkyrie module, otherwise I'll probably fall from the saddle once the little pick me up runs out. You have my commcode. I promised you a beer and a follower of St. George keeps his word.
Four different ways of transport should be enough for at least some of us to make it to Oxford."
Isaint shrugged. "Add to the beer a nice bed and a few hours of sleep. See you there." With that, Isaint tossed the Frenchman the little recognition chip, so he could start the Mirage without his authorization.
#224
-
Jackhammer remains silent until the helicopter is away, scanning behind him for traces of hostiles. Then he turns to Isaint and Al.
"This isn't what the trids showed. You people have a terrible line of work. I just..." He pauses, taking off his helmet and rubbing his eyes. "I'm taking some time off. Straighten things out with Madezyn. Check in on the folks. Do a lot of drinking."
He takes out his commlink, looks at the burning, collapsing building behind him, and hurls it in. "I won't be in touch."
With that, Jackhammer jogs off into the distance, disappearing behind some buildings as the sound of sirens wailing in the distance becomes audible.
-
Isaint shook his head sadly: "Well, I can't blame him for wanting to stay low, but that's just impolite. Time to be away. Oxford in an hour at the tavern we first set up shop. See you there Frenchman."
With that Isaint stalked away towards the small cops of trees behind the parking place. A few minutes later a VTOL Drone with the Doc Wagon logo went upwards and away towards Oxford.
-
Epilogue
[Monday June 22nd, 2076, Somewhere in Wales]
William wearily rubbed at heavy eyes but brightened immediately when eTher came in to the small apartment. The last few days had been hellish, the repeated grilling by the Security Services about the events leading up to the attack…he hadn’t been able to offer them much, the whole time was a blur of chaotic images, fear and bone aching fatigue…but eTher made up for all that…he could still feel her arm around his shoulders and images of her naked body still haunted his waking moments, much darker images filled his dreams…
“How are you William?”
“Errr…fine, doing ok, yeah…errr, you?”
eTher’s benign smile sent flutters through William but he squelched them as ‘Tasha walked in. She looked wan, the fight knocked out of her…being dead will do that to you, William mused. She’d been changed more than him by the whole experience, particularly the connection with Goodnight and what those Flowers did to her, but he kind of liked it…she was more grown up, and certainly much less of a bitch, long may it last!
eTher had explained that it had been necessary for the family to die to stop others looking for them. He’d been selected to be the believable witness left behind after the tragedy. He was angry about being put through that, thinking his family was dead, but the way eTher explained it…it had been the only way right?!?
So here they were, new lives, new identities…it would all be more exciting if he wasn’t so damn tired…but eTher being here made up for it all, more than made up for it!
***
#86
-
[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~15:55, Oxford]
The trip back to Oxford had been a lot easier than he'd thought. Breaking across the adjoining fields along a line of trees the demarcated the boundary between two farms, he and Spike had made the next service road before his patch wore off.
It was a hard crash, literally like getting kicked in the head and the stomach at the same time. The world spun and he just about collapsed. But if he was going to crash in the dirt by the side a road, it'd be with a gut full of good beer, not because a bunch of corp assholes had kicked his ass. No, he'd stay on his feet just to spite them. The ones that were even still alive, he chuckled to himself.
Speaking of still alive, he still didn't know what to think about William's survival. If they were indeed dead, he'd seriously overestimated eTher. And overtrusted Silk.
But there wasn't anything he could do about it in a barley field.
He hid out in a ditch near a cattle crossing, where vehicles would have to slow down. And didn't have to wait long before an open truck piled with beets lumbered by. An hour later they were on the outskirts of Oxford. Busses were running, but he liked the Remington 990 in his hand better than the Defiance in his Beamer, so that was out. So it took an extra hour to work inconspicuously through back streets until they got to the outskirts of the university area where his car was parked. Which meant he was late for the pub.
He threw the shotgun into the trunk, thought of a quick nap, knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, and fired up the car. And realized that, for the time being, it was his home. Shit. Everything he owned had gone up with the garage. Well, he had the boat. He'd fetch that later. And he had the Elite in the storage unit behind the Prospect. That should be more than enough to set him up right. He called Horace while he drove, asked him to shift the car through Chastity, and reminded him to take the hunting rifle out of the trunk and hold it for him. Usual fees applied. Of course.
Then he was there, parking the dull gray BMW 400GT across from the place Isaint had named. Left Spike inside - best anti-theft system you could buy. His face was practically black with the accumulated much and grime of the last two days, and he used water from his canteen to wipe it to something resembling not-freakish. Nothing to do about the clothes, so he just made sure there were no obvious bloodstains and then strode in to find French and Isaint.
-
Isaint enjoyed the flight as well as you can enjoy any flight in a coffin shaped contraption without windows. At least the autodoc of the Valkyrie system knew what to do about his bruises.
It was tight with all this gear inside, but Isaint had disrobed far enough to not lose his armor to the sharp sheers of the autodoc's snake fingers.
The clock on his chemically induced persistence was ticking down. And he felt the pain getting stronger. His bio-monitor indicated that the system had administered a counter agent so his body would be able fall asleep and recover naturally. Before he went to sleep he managed to instruct his agent:
<<Susi, full matrix defense and overwatch with your cluster. Instruct autopilot to evacuate if threats are indicated.>>
<<Frenchman and Al from Isaint: Just got drugged by my autodoc. Will need an hour before I can join you.>>
Then sleep came over him.
A full hour and a half later he dragged himself into the tavern. He wore his jacket without the backpack or other armor gear since that was the only clothing part that didn't reek horribly or was coated in dust and grime. His face was clean shaven again and resembled slightly a minor b-movie celebrity, known for his great zombie killing skills with a chainsaw.
The magic couldn't disguise the bags under his eyes, indicating that one hour hadn't been nearly enough to regenerate his strength.
Weary to the bones, Isaint flopped into a seat, indicating the server to bring a genuine Guinness.
He didn't talk for a while, just enjoying his beverage.
Finally he said in a raspy voice: "...and than there were three. You know, I should have known it would look like that when we first met three days ago. I mean Al, you are a crazy motherfragger - no offence - but you are a reliable one with good work ethic. And to that I drink.
Frenchman, I know we had a difficult past, but I know too, that you are a survivor like me and a professional. I'd like us to stay on the same side. It was a pleasure to work with you even when the situation was not. And to that I drink too.
I am sorry that my personality clashed this hard with our guide Goodnight. She was a crazy bitch, but she knew her stuff. Goodnight, wherever you are, I wish you and your sister the best. May you find serenity and peace.
We lost other men and women under London and I intend to return there and show the House of Flowers that there are people you don't provoke with impunity.
Finally, I raise my glass to William and his dead family. I'm filled with sorrow for his loss. Even though we technically succeeded with our mission, this wasn't how it should have ended.
Prost."
#226
-
Al raised his (third) glass with Isaint. "Yeah, them sisters, they was somethin' special, no denyin'. Reckon I'm better fer havin' known 'em. They was both ablaze with life, an' that's a good thing even if it do cause a few fires."
He slammed the stein down onto the coarse wooden tabletop of the ancient Oxford watering hole. "Now, I'll tell you two straight, I still have a hard time believin' Silk betrayed me, or that eTher was as stone stupid as she done come off. So part o' me remains hopeful that we's all been subjected to some form o' bamboozlement."
A cigarette appeared in his mouth, although his hands appeared not to have left the tabletop. Then one of them was lighting it with his big silver Zippo.
"But with evidence suggestin' the contrary, until proven otherwise, I reckon we got folks ta kill. An' the first step ta figurin' out they are is right there in Frenchie's head."
-
"A good suggestion. But we'll need a bit of prep-time for that. I have to restock my gear and ask some questions. Not to mention we'll need to recruit a new spell slinger and ideally another decker. I trust my Susi, but a real professional will make our mission a lot easier.
Say Frenchman, do you still have contact to that shaman who gave you astral support in Istanbul? Getting through that elf's army of spirit was really annoying."
Isaint said quizzically.
-
Far away, in London Below...
Melissa Shirae, The Comtesse du Sange, stared out her window at Earl's Court, smiling slightly. The House of Flowers had been weakened by the efforts of those surface 'runners, and damaged further still in acquiring Goodnight and her sister. So much wasted by those frivolous fools. Now, like their namesake, they were ready to be picked, and Melissa's smile grew as she contemplated the harvest of all those poisonous blooms...
"Please..."
The slurred, breathy voice shook Melissa from her reverie, and she raised one long-fingered hand to idly stroke the sable tresses of the girl who knelt at her feet, eliciting a sigh. Melissa's smile grew again, becoming a cruel smirk as she asserted her power with the simple gesture.
"Soon, poppet, very soon." She said in her low, smoky voice. "The game is afoot, and it is time for you to put all those skills and talents to work. Play properly, and I will give you your chance to strike." A whine, soft and insisting from the kneeling girl. "Yes, poppet, I know." Melissa assured her. "You will have your retribution upon the flowers." The stroking hand fisted in black locks and she jerked the girl's head back, her jade eyes meeting the girl's pale ones. "But not yet. There are still preparations to be made and lessons to be learned."
Fear crossed the girl's face, and Melissa laugh was a low, horrid thing as she let the girl's head drop and turned her gaze back outside, enjoying the sight of Earl's Court far below as she contemplated the shape of things to come. For a long moment she stared and thought, seemingly oblivious to the girl at her feet, or the sumptuous apartments around her.
Then, with a rough blow that sent the girl sprawling, she reached for the slender sapphire flechette knife on the table and turned back toward her captive. There was so very much to do...
-
The Frenchman made his way safely to Oxford. A quick check on his Comlink showed Solo's reservation at the Grand Hotel where they had extracted Rachel, the Doctor's wife, was still active for another day.
It couldn't be better. He stopped by got to the room and removed the 'Do not Disturb' ARO. He didn't need a nap, his sleep regulator managing extremely well his fatigue. However, the shower that followed was a blessing. He let the warm water wash off everything and pondered on those last few days. He had more questions than answers but that had been his lot since waking up in Dr. Henry's clinic.
What he had in his datalock could maybe answer a few, or make him a wanted man, seeing how eager 'They' were to kill the Doc and his family.
Refreshed and dressed, he bought some more casual clothing at the Hotel's boutique and checked out, as if nothing had ever happened.
His newfound teammates joined him at the pub they had chosen, and raised his glass to ISaint's toast.
ISaint, the reason I am so curious about our misadventures in Istanbul is because I recall none of them. I woke up five months ago in a clinic in London with no idea on how I got there nor who I was. You are the closest thing I've ever found to giving me more clues about my past. That said, I sometimes wonder whether I really want to know or not. You know, some demons are better left behind a tightly closed door.
It also means, no, I don't know anything about that Shaman from Istanbul. Glad to know someone was willing to work with me though. However I've met a runner a couple months ago who might have the skills you requires. He's a telekinesist if I'm not mistaken. He seems like a trustworthy guy. The name's Deckard.
Are you seriously considering going back down there? sounds crazy to me. I'd love to know why we were sent there in the first place and more importantly who ended up getting the biggest piece of the pie after that attack at the motorway station.
-
Al sipped his third beer and listened to the ork and the human talk. He'd had no idea they shared some sort of mysterious history, and was content just to soak it all in. Damned small world this whole shadow thing had turned out to be. One of the many surprises he'd had since his earthshaking realization not a year earlier that this whole urban mercenary business was actually real, and not just an elaborate tridertainment construct, or else some sort of Eastasia for the corps to blame higher prices on.
Even as they talked about rustling up a new decker, his mind wandered back to someone he'd met nearly ten years back, and he wondered if she still lived in London, or if she was even still alive.
-
It took Isaint some moments to digest this information. He held his palm up and said: "Sorry, I have to digest that."
Another few seconds went by than he finally answered:
"Wow.
You know that for a time I had nightmares about you? No drek. I dreamed you came for my current client and I could do nothing. Of course that was before that business in Prague. After that I had much more reasonable nightmares.
Well, one could argue that in essence we are our memories - so in some way the assassin Perdition that I knew is dead. You are just a man inheriting his body and enemies.
Ok, let me back up a moment. You still want to know who you were of course. In your shoes I'd want to know too.
We met nearly 8 years ago. I'd left the KSK and taken the offer of a private security firm - better salary and more freedom, you know the deal. Anyway it was my third mission body guarding. Lady Tiky - you probably remember her number one hit "Burning down the firmament" - was on vacation with her five year old boy. Officially she kept the name of the father a secret, unofficially everyone knew that Tommy O' Finnegan, son of the infamous Mickey "the Butcher" O'Finnigan was the boy's progenitor. The Irish mob takes that whole family thing really serious.
My team - consisting of a drone rigger called Overwatch, a mage whose name doesn't matter seeing as he no longer lives and me were assigned to guard them in addition to whatever other security could be hired locally.
And of course the Lady Tiky wants to go on vacation to one of the most complicated places in Europe.
Istanbul.
We knew the Mob had a standing contract - get the boy and punish the mother for trying to keep him from his family. Just when we arrived we learned that a runner team led by someone called Perdition was probably waiting for us. I was a lot less experienced and a lot more confident in my abilities back then, so I didn't worry to much. Our team had after all repelled a stalker, two would be assassins from the dumps and a team of robbers trying to steal Tiky's jewels. Boy was I an idiot.
So she takes up residence in the Ciragan Palace Kempinski Istanbul with a view to the south into the strait. Overwatch was running surveillance with his small army of fly spies and a few blimps for good measure. The mage was busy establishing a magical perimeter with his spirits and I was on duty staying close to her. I'm not ashamed to admit that I totally fell in love with her. Despite what you might think about a hot shot pop-starlet, she was genuinely funny and intelligent. It didn't hurt that she was also one hot mama, having gotten her son when she was only 20.
So that was my first mistake - getting close to her. Emotions muddy the waters and made me careless. All it took was a pleading look from her and I'd ignore six years of training.
When the attack came, I was in bed with her, leaving my trode net lying on the side table with my gun.
That's when I first met you. Cool as anything you'd strolled up to the secure floor, laid out five of the hired help and took the boy from his bed.
All the while Overwatch had frantically tried to reach me. Finally he hacked the Trid and called out the warning that the assassin was in the room next door. I shoved Liz - Lady Tiki for you - under the bed. One of the only things I got right that evening, grabbed my gun and stormed into the kids room.
You had the boy sedated and in a carry bag.
In retrospect it was really dumb to shoot at you. I could as easily have hit the boy. Instead I winged you on the upper left arm while you dodged.
Dodged out of the window, mind you. You already had a safety harness on and a microwire placed. You grinned at me as I raised my gun but hesitated to shoot. I finally had realized that I could do nothing while he had the boy.
I remember it as if it was yesterday. You made a little motion with your left hand and suddenly I saw a smoke trail rapidly closing in on my position.
Your team had a freaking rocket launcher readied to blow up Liz in her bed. Now it flew for my position.
That's when I did one of the stupidest and luckiest things in my life. I jumped out of the window grabbing the IS flag. Somehow I managed to get it into a makeshift parachute sail to carry me as far as the swimming pool.
The landing cracked a few bones and compressed my spine, but I lived while an explosion rocked the building. Amazingly Liz survived without a scratch. Turned out the hotels beds had an amazingly sturdy frame and premium mattresses so the next room explosion merely shredded the room and the five other guards storming in.
Our mage was able to fix me up and I personally went to pursue you. Took us two days to find you. And we would have failed if your team hadn't been betrayed by your Johnson. Turns out Tommy O'Finnegans wife was not interested in having a bastard child anywhere around her husband. She sabotaged the payment and banked on your team to just kill the hostage. Then she told her husband that you killed the boy and he sent a killer squad after you.
I met up with you just as the squad rolled in. Chaos is too mild a word for what happened next. You took out half the team yourself while your mage was busy to keep me at bay. To be fair, you never laid hands on the kid and you made no effort to stop me getting him out.
In the end the Irish were dead, you and your team vanished and got the boy back to his mother. Only her intervention prevented my employer to sack me on the spot. Tommy's wife found a bad end as I recall - might even have been you who did it. They stopped trying to abduct the boy - seeing how close a thing it had been to kill him the last time.
Especially since he went to his father anyway after some guy with a heavy pistol and APDS ammo shot me and Liz with one bullet not a week later after her last concert for the summer.
Anyway, your team consisted of an elf shaman who's name I never learned but who probably followed Raven, if the beast spirits he sent after me are any indication. The other one was a Troll we nicknamed Bomber after all the hardware he had at his disposal. I think he died in the raid when one of his grenades blew up in his face. But you know, trolls, could very well be that he was just concussed and is still out there.
And yes, I do want to go back down there. At the very least I have to find out what became of our companions. And the House of Flowers has an open contract on us if I understood that right. Since I don't want to leave London just yet and I don't want to be disturbed in my work constantly by some drugged up freaks popping out of gullies, I want to settle this once and for all.
After all, London below is an important part of the shadows here. That much I learned from Goodnight. It would put a serious crimp in my style if I couldn't access it anymore just because some drug fiends are miffed that I laid them out with some more drugs.
But your point is equally valid. This level of opposition was crazy. If we don't want to flee we'll have to get to the bottom of this."
#228
-
It took a second for the Frenchman to gather everything ISaint said.
Being linked to the Mafia was never a good news, but it seemed he was a skilled professional already a few years back.
In one hand I wish I could remember your stunt with the IS flag, on the other hand... it may be best not to.
That Liz girl, did she survived the APDS bullet? You think it was me, right?
The Frenchman wasn't really expecting an answer from ISaint, instead he looked at his glass with his eyes not really seeing anything. Then his focus went back on ISaint.
I've seen you how you fight, ISaint. The Saints must be on your side indeed. I'm just glad this time I got to be on that side too. As far as I know and can remember I'd like to keep it this way for a long time. Just one question: London, 5 months ago. That wasn't you who left me pretty much dead, right? Think the Irish could have done so?
All I can say about that Below place is that it is a wretched hive of scum and villainy. Never seen such a high concentration of paranormal and mojo slingers. I don't get why the government or the druid guild hasn't taken possession of those fanatics and closed minded.
What I'm more interested in is having a word with Art and, that's directed at you Al, that contact of your who sent us back toward Oxford to have the meet at the Service station. Though I have the feeling Art got caught in the same lies and manipulation than we have. If he is still alive that is.
-
"Honestly, I didn't even think of that. I actually got to re-experience the memory while we were below, walking through the crowd. Obviously I survived the shot, but Liz died looking into my eyes..."
Isaint stopped for a moment looking to the floor
"Anyway, I have no idea if it was you. I mainly saw the gun and had a split second to react. Turns out this ploy works a lot better if you send the client to the ground before the shot goes off. I was out for nearly a week. Incidentally that was the time the Saint found me.
And no, I met you only this three days ago. I'm not particularly interested in revenge. Revenge is a sucker's game where no-one wins.
The Irish on the other hand would indeed be a possibility. They don't usually wait this long with their strikes, but I imagine you were very good at covering your tracks so it could have been them.
Hmm 5 months ago you say? Not that it means anything, but not half a year ago the boy you kidnapped turned 13. If you indeed killed his mother - or the Irish made him believe that - your death might have been a birthday present.
Regarding Below: Yeah It's almost as if they keep it as a breeding pool to get easily manipulated talent.
And I haven't forgotten about Art. Tracking him down is still a priority.
As long as we don't get another high paying mission, I'm game to get some answers and maybe some of our missing members back."
-
Al groaned both inwardly and outwardly. "Purgatory an' perdition. Reckon I'd rather bed a rapid porcupine than go down into that ridiculous place again." He paused to ogle a passing coed. "But I will if'n ya ask. Cuz I owes ya both. Like Frenchie says, that clusterfuck at the service area was on my say so, an' fer that ol' Al takes responsibility." He paused, decided whether to say something, and then continued. "Or credit. See, the big white Akita, she keeps a'tellin' me it don't add up. Both Silk an' eTher been trustworthy an' smart all the time I worked for 'em. We din't git no good look at the bodies inna limo. An' that lizard lady had all those heavy hitters on tap, but din't have 'em on hand fer the initial hand-off. So yeah, I'm sure as hell gon' talk ta Silk, but I'll be fishin' before I'm accusin', at least ta start."
He shrugged. "Other hand, the gorilla-spider says the whole thing reeks of a set-up, an' the plain facts is on his side. So less'n I git some good answers from darlin' Silk, she gon' be dead ta me. Or jist dead, dependin' on how much energy I can work up."
-
"Hm. I never saw the bodies or the actual insides of the car. Shame that Jackhammer didn't join us for a beer. He might be able to tell us something about that.
In the meantime I'll take consolation in the chance that it could have happened.
I still don't know how they could fake that without knowing how the enemy would attack them...
But I guess, where ever magic is involved one can expect the unexpected.
Funny, I'd really love that I'd been lied to and deceived. In this case at least.
Ok, let's do it in this order: Get answers from our contacts, Art, Silk and/or eTher. Then find out if there is any sign that our erstwhile chummers made it out of London Below or that they need help.
I am still itching to go Below, but I do understand if you two don't feel that way."
#230
-
Reminded of their lost companions, Al was just about ready to go back down himself. I tore him up to have left them - Smiley, Solo, Mel. At the time, the family's safety had trumped that concern. But no longer burdened by that higher responsibility, they needed to go back after them. However slim their chances were.
"Nah, yer right. Can't say I'm all that innerested in any sorta payback onna degenerates down there. Let 'em rot in they sunless hell. But the thought that Solo might be rottin' in some Flower dungeon, that ain't somethin' we can ignore.Tell ya one thing, though, we ain't goin' down there without tappin' some serious data on that place. Ever'thin's good an' ass-backwards down there. Rules is all skewampus. We find out all we can so's we's not all dependin' on some guide. An' if we do git a guide, we find one with they head on straight."
He put his empty beer glass down, pulled out his Fairlight Caliban, tossed it up in the air, and caught it. "But like ya say, first things first. Ol' Al's got direct lines ta Silk an' eTher, an' reckon I'm gon' go out ta my car an' call Silk right now. That leaves you two ta track down Art, maybe start with Torrent."
-
Jackhammer sat in his hotel bed, idly drying off his top half after a long shower. He winced as he passed over bruised ribs and a recently stitched shoulder. The automatic medkit had done an acceptable job of fixing the wound, but everything seemed to hurt more than it should right now. He figured a shrink would have a lot to say about that, which is just another reason why shrinks are good for punching. He idly popped the cylinder of his new Ruger, much larger than his old on-duty Taurus. Of course "old" was a relative term, as he'd used it not a week ago to scare off some would-be cyber-hacker-punk trying to steal next year's prototypes from Madezyne. He tossed the Ruger on the towel next to him and stood up, going to the window.
These windows didn't open, for security reasons, so Jackhammer just stared through the ballistic plastiglass at the lights outside. He half-wondered if it was actually just a holo projection of outside. He stood there for a while until he realized he was staring at his own reflection--a large, jacked-up ork in a world made for humans by humans. He killed some humans and saved other humans, but suddenly it all started to feel blurry and distant. What was one from the other? Orks were family. Or at his his family were orks. He hadn't seen them in a few months. The people he owed money to, they were mostly humans. They had some ork enforcers, sure, but Jackhammer was pretty sure he knew how to handle them. If it came to that anyway.
Jackhammer had tossed his old commlink into the fire before taking off, but picked up a new one on his way back to the hotel. He'd already sent a message offering to pay double what he owed and informing them that, take it or leave it, his business with them was done either way. He hadn't heard back, which was probably a bad sign. So now he was going to have to deal with those guys. He didn't even know how big their group was or how many he'd have to kill before they gave up. They didn't put that kind of info in the brochure. But whatever the case, he didn't need to bring that kind of trouble down on Madezyne. He grabbed the 'link on the end table and sent a form resignation to Madezyne, adding his signature before it fizzled off into matrix space.
-
Silk’s persona, a silk clad damsel standing on a windswept Celtic moorland, appeared in miniature on Al’s ‘link
“Al, I’ve been anticipating this call since eTher told me something of the events outside Oxford… I know you want answers and I’m sorry that there is very little I can tell you here, but I will say this…dragons don’t think like we do, even the pretty ones, it just bears thinking about…
Who fired the shots that killed the family? And why did the boy survive if it was the father that was the valuable target? If you want more you’ll have to come back to Seattle…or talk to eTher, there’s a small chance she’ll have more information for you. Just don’t let her appearance or her magic lull you into a sense that she isn’t dangerous…if you become more of an annoyance than a useful tool she might just decide to discard you, and I have upcoming plans that include your help, and I’d hate to have find someone else with your unique talents!”
***
#87
-
Isaint nodded and got on his own commlink to call the fixer:
<<Torrent from Isaint: Hi, I don't know if you are up to date on that little mission you sent us. But we need to talk with Art.>>
<<Isaint! What the frag. Do you have any idea what's going on? You lot have gone dark on me and suddenly there are all kinds of news about a terror attack at a service station close to Oxford.>>
<<Yeah, as I was about to say, that whole thing has become an even bigger cluster frag. After your psycho guide lead us into London Below we had to hike across the whole city and inadvertently started a turf war with one of the houses. You know we lost quite a few of our chummers on the way. Did you by any chance get message from them? >>
<<What? No, I didn't. Not from any of you. Why didn't you call me?>>
<<No offence, but with all that was going on, we rather wanted to play this close to our chest - so to speak. Not to mention the problems we had with the hired help...>>
<<Stop complaining. It was sheer magic on my part to get you anyone so highly skilled on short notice.>>
<<Yeah, yeah. But to get back to the point, we managed to find an other buyer ourselves.>>
<<So I heard.>>
<<By the way, keep an eye out for the Neo-Druids and the English government. We kind of skipped out on them in the midst of our negotiations. We did the hand over at the service station, but just after that our buyer was ambushed and the family presumably killed.>>
<<Damn. Well, at least you didn't fuck up then. It's always hard to flock your talents just after a run goes south.>>
<<Small consolation - especially since we engaged them.>>
<<You what? Why didn't you just leave - the family wasn't your problem anymore. Oh, wait a second, for a moment I forgot who I'm talking to. Of course you attacked.>>
<<Hey, we didn't know if they were dead. Those bastard shot a bunch of rockets at the car, but only one had hit the armored limousine. We couldn't just leave them hang. Not after all we did to keep the family alive.>>
<<And what did your efforts get you? Half a million in damages if the early estimates are to be believed.>>
<<Hindsight is 20/20. Also, those guys seemed really keen to bag us too. Either they wanted revenge or they believed that we had the good Doctor's research data.>>
<<And, do you?>>
<<Maybe>>
<<Well, I certainly can do some discreet inquiries if you want to cash in on that.>>
<<Hm. If they think it's sold they might call off the heat. Do that. But I still want to talk to Art about that setup at the safe house.>>
<<No can do. Art vanished. Dropped off the grid, might be dead for all I know. Pity, he was always a reliable Johnson - for different corporations, too. Personally I think he was also setup. It happens. Get over it. Next time call me directly when you have problems reaching the Johnson.>>
<<Very funny. At least the rest of us was paid. Please give me a call if you hear from our lost chummers.>>
<<I'll see what I can do. Try to lay low for a little - at least until I have a buyer for the data. Take care.>>
<<You too, Isaint out.>>
Isaint ended the call and gave his chummers a quick summary of its content.
-
Al could feel himself being gently deflected in that way he always was when dealing with these self-styled matrix mystics. But the stakes were too high this time.
"Hon, yer gon' have ta do a lot better this time than raisin' questions I already thought of, tossin' riddles around, an' makin' ominous threats about mini-dragons. Near as ol' Al can tell, I had a meet all planned that was too soon fer the opposition ta get organized an' stopped 'em usin' air assets. Then, based on nothin' but yer high-falootin' destiny's footprint talk, I convinced ever'one ta git outta London, where they promptly all got killed by organized opposition usin' air assets. Now, I'll concede I'm of too minds here, an' hope the Akita's right. But the facts is on gorilla spider's side, an' he's gon' take some convincin'. Now, if the family's really dead, then you's either a traitor or just completely crazy. On the other hand, if there's another possibility, now's the time to let us know."
-
“I'm not being deliberately obtuse, I just don't want to discuss things over an unsecured line. If you want answers that quickly then you'll have to meet me in VR, and I know how much you love VR! Come to the Citadel game host in Seattle, the Gatekeeper will expect you and direct you to a secure meeting location”
***
#88
-
Dagnabbit.
She was a persnickety one, no two ways about it.
Well, he still had Isaint's spare trode net in his pocket, and his car could always be hosed out. Dammit, though, the Beamer still had that new car smell, and he'd had enough rides ruined on this gig already.
He got out, went over to the nearest tree (gotta love these university towns) and rammed two fingers down his throat, wasting all the beer he'd just consumed in the pub. Then, just to be sure, he popped a couple of anti-emetics from his medkit. Then he locked himself in the car next to Spike, maxed out the window tint, and slapped the silly-looking thing on.
Made him feel like a pimply-faced kid working the fryer at a McHughs.
Fumbled his way to the Citadel and followed the Gatekeeper's instructions.
-
Al emerged from the spinning, gut wrenching portal ride from the planar orrery into an environment almost as alien… he found himself in a lush garden, but unlike one that ever existed in the real world. The humid air is bright with the sound of insects and birds, even the strange vegetation seems to hum to a tune of its own devising. Lights float on a gentle breeze, seemingly at random and yet with a barely discernible sense of purpose…there is a pervading sense of peace, perhaps some subtle simfeed manipulation, but all in all, enough to set Al’s teeth on edge…
Silk’s persona emerged from behind a stand of impossible willows, her bare feet making impressions in the soft moss beside the babbling stream and her dress trailing behind her in the water
“Al, welcome to Aria’s domain. She has insisted on meeting you before we can talk, this way please, and best behaviour, she is another one that is far more than she seems. Your lot to be surrounded by beautiful and dangerous women ‘eh?” and she smiled…
***
#89
-
"Heh. Some call it luck, some a curse. Me, I jist call it bein' me." He wondered if the sculpting here was good enough that the default UMS icon he used would suddenly have pockets with cigarettes in them. Bingo! As he lit up, he added, "Thing is, though, I ain't seen but the beautiful so far."
He was glad for the "smoke," though, because the ride here hadn't treated him so well. He'd been ready for the big jumps over the global grids, and the giant hooded figure at the gothic outer towers had been familiar enough after his last time here. But he'd been braced for the same giant cavern, not this damned enchanted forest. Feet a bit unsteady, even now back in his good old Docs and 501s, he figured he'd better focus on just one spot. Naturally he picked Silk's chest, and concentrated on whether her robes were see-through at all.
Whatever it took to still be standing whenever this Aria person decided to make her appearance.
-
It’s quite a small chest, but very nicely set off by the dress Silk’s persona is wearing…Al’s concentration is interrupted by a giggle and a feather light touch on his elbow…it’s not damn natural that things can seem too real here but that the rules can be bent to allow someone to creep up on a fellow undetected…spinning round and then looking down, Al is greeted by a cherubic face beaming up at him…she looks to be about eight, although he’s damn sure she’s not
“Naughty! So this is the great Mr Guthrie? Come with me…”
and the childlike hand grips his in a vice like grip that brooks no argument. Aria, for that is presumably who this sprite is, dances ahead, and Silk just shrugs at Al with a wry smile on her face.
He is led into a glade that surrounds a glimmering pool and there his attention is grabbed by two more figures waiting. Another bloody girl, this one gussied up to look like some fragging Alice in Wonderland…fits right in here, the other is a hooded black guy with strange snake eyes. Silk whispered in his ear
“Careful Al, you clearly warrant a meeting with the whole of the unholy trinity!”
***
#90
-
So this was Aria.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen her - she'd been there in the cavern, then disappeared, right before the first time he'd met Fairy Twinkle Dragon.
Could she read his thoughts? Hell no. Must be no big thing for these hippies to observe which data streams he was most acfively accessing.
But her grip. That was real. He'd been fairly certain you couldn't actually get hurt too bad, accessing with just a 'trode rig. But there was no denying that little hand had him tight.
And if these people could hurt him here...the very reason he'd come was to figure out if Silk had turned on him....
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Maybe she was just using the word 'unholy' in an ironic sense....
-
It’s the Alice that speaks first, in barely a whisper
“Locus! Even here I can feel the fates twisting as they try to accommodate him…probability is warped and the threads are tangled…” Aria’s childlike fluting voice cuts through the mumbo jumbo
“He’s come here to demand answers from Silk…should we give them to him…he might not like what he has to hear” the old black guy with the strange eyes remains impassive, clearly a watcher rather than a speaker “come, you’ve seen him! I’m sure we’ll all meet again. We’ll be watching you Mr Guthrie, watching you with great interest! Let’s leave him to Silk, she has a task for him, haven’t you sweetie?”
Silk shrugged again, clearly deferential to these people, whoever the hell they were…as soon as their personas had derezzed from the host she quickly held up a hand to forestall Al’s tirade
“Ok, you want answers…I can give you some at least. I told you the truth as I knew it, you were at risk in London from the SK team. Your presence wasn't enough to mask the family from the seers and we believe it was them that set the SKs on you, nothing else makes sense. That they caught up with you again is only more proof. The Guild is dangerously powerful and they have a frightening disregard for the harm their meddling might do provided it furthers their goals. Aria isn't sure yet what this has to do with CFD, or at least she won't tell me, but the family are important to the Trinity somehow and you were whisked up in the maelstrom...
Ok, ok, I know all this fate talk isn't what you came here for. eTher hasn't confirmed this but I was able to trace the initial Nimrod drone launches back to Oxford...not the London base where the SKs jumped off from. I can't prove it, yet, but I wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that they were launched from a Knights staging area. I don't intend to press my luck by quizzing eTher either, and I strongly suggest you don't, but I think on balance the family are probably still alive. I can see patterns in things, that's how my gift works...and this is my reading of the threads...I trust you not to spread this information further. If they are alive it is because the seers believe them to be dead. William is being interrogated by the Security Services as we speak, it is hardly coincidence that they too were on hand to witness the whole thing. He makes for a good witness, one that doesn't threaten anyone...why else would eTher save him when she could have so easily have saved them all? I know she presents herself as a teenager but she is anything but. I've got details of someone matching her description dating back to Celedyr's first appearances, before we'd even heard about drakes...
So, is that enough to satisfy you that I haven't deliberately sent you and the family into a trap? I know the shadows breed paranoia and I have precious little to back up my assertions, so I will have to ask you to take me at my word..."
***
#91
-
All she'd been doing as far as Dog was concerned was preach to the choir. And gorilla spider would keep up his whisperings until it saw proof. So no, he wasn't satisfied.
But there was no percentage in telling her that.
And in his gut, he wanted to trust her.
"Well, it' might go some way if ya answered a few other questions." He flicked his spent butt into the pool the three other individuals had been standing around. "Reckon if they's anything ta all this silliness, then ol' Al better start keepin' score. So was them three there this Trinity yer talkin' 'bout? An' what's the Alice-lookin' chica call herself? Who're the seers? An' what's the Guild?"
-
Silk smiled again at Al
“Well those are questions I can answer for you, more or less…yes, they are the Trinity. It’s not a formal title or anything, or even what they call themselves, but it’s a handy enough moniker. They are the defacto heads of the Choir, thirteen individuals, seven mages and six technos, all seers of one sort or another.
The Alice-lookin' chica is Summer, a technomantic oracle of sorts. The Resonance is the repository of all information that has ever been digitised, Summer is lucky, or unlucky, enough to be able to see the trains of probability running through it all and predict futures from the data, mostly unconsciously as I understand it. Sort of how I see the threads of the Pattern but based on a different source of intel.
As to the seers I mentioned, that would be the Seer’s Guild, a European organisation that started in France advising the nobles. It has split from them since and is rumoured to work for Lofwyr, or the Black Lodge, or some other dark shadowy figure. They offer divination to whoever can pay for it in essence. But they have a deeper agenda than that, one I don’t know specifically, but whatever it is puts them at odds with the Choir’s goals. And no, before you ask, I can’t tell you what the Choir’s goals are either but it certainly doesn’t involve killing off CFD researchers!”
***
#92
-
"Well, hon, that do make a story."
He was lighting a new cigarette - becuase apparently they were free in here.
"So its Guild versus Choir over some sorta problem to which you are not privy. Check. Guild's the bad guys, so I reckon y'all represent the forces o' goodness an' light. Check. An' all o' y'all see patterns o' the cosmos, but usin' different media. Check.Hell, fortune-tellin' by committee - can't see how anything coulda gone wrong with that."
He was already strolling back in the direction they'd come. He had no idea how to get out of here, but knew he needed to get started. The sculpting for this place was so good, he couldn't feel his meat at all, which was a very mixed blessing since it meant he had no idea just how sick he was getting.
He had a lot more questions, but settled on just one: "So now we's washed our hands o' the Pelletieres, these seers gon' fergit us, or come after us?" He talked as he walked, hoping she'd get the hint that he needed to get back.
-
"Come come Al, you don't still believe in true absolutes like good and evil do you? Us and them I grant you, but nothing is as black and white as that in the shadows, much that I might wish it otherwise!
Will the seers come after you? I can't see why they would, we are pawns in the bigger picture, we get sacrificed if it serves but otherwise they have the luxury of ignoring us.
But that aside, I think perhaps that you haven't been listening to your role in all this. You are what they call a locus, a knot in the threads...probability just doesn't work the way it should around you, perhaps you've noticed? It means that any seer gets a headache trying to predict your futures and even shields those around you to a certain extent. The family were unfortunate, the good doctor had too striking a path, not to mention eTher blazing like a comet, but generally I would say you don't have to worry too much about the seers. In fact that's why I will have a job proposition for you soon, the one Aria alluded to. I need to work out some details, give me a month or so and I'll contact you if you are interested. In the meantime please try and stay out of trouble!"
***
#93
-
Right then Al smiled.
Not because he was the center of the universe. That was no shock at all. Someone had to be.
No, he smiled because right then he knew she hadn't sold him out.
"Hon, course the shadows is gray. Hell, this whole veil o' tears is awash in gray. But gray ain't nothin' but black an' white all jumbled up some. Boil 'er down, though, an' they's still there - pure as can be. Absolute as can be. An' end o' the day, there comes a reckonin' fer us all, an' out o' what ya thought were yer gray soul comes all them black bits, an' they gon' git stacked up alongside all them white bits ya put in there amongst 'em. Now what exactly happens after that I ain't so clear on, but you can bet yer bottom dollar that when they start stackin' 'em up, yer gon' be prayin' the white pile comes out higher."
A portal to the main game host opened, and he started through it. Looked back before it closed. "You call ol' Al in a month. But only if we gon' go collectin' some white bits."
-
The uber-sculpting of Oracle LaLa-Land had been strong enough to mask all conscious sensation of dizziness and nausea, but once he was back on the main Citadel host, and more so on the global grids, it all hit him and hard. As soon as it was safe he ripped off the 'trodes and just breathed in and out deeply, too distracted even to be annoyed by Spike bathing his face in tongue and drool. His pre-flight precautions had worked - his car was puke free, and if he could just get his breathing under control he might keep it that way.
So five minutes later he was back in the pub, none the worse for wear. He sat back down with Isaint and Frenchie, ordered another beer. He as just in time to hear the ork's run-down of his call to Torrent. He thought for half a second before giving his own report: what he wanted to do was tell them about the extra reason to believe - not proof, but reason to believe - that his switcheroo scenario was correct. But he realized that if it was correct, it wouldn't stay that way for long if he started blabbing about it.
They deserved to know, and he would tell them, but not in this pub.
So he just said, "Silk din't sell us out. There's a good possibility she's bought way too much into her own damned bullshit. An' I won't likely be takin' her advice again, nor would I ever ask y'all ta do so. But she din't sell us out."
-
"That's good to know. Bad intel instead of malice - not optimal, but better than the alternative."
Isaint drained his glass and slumped back in his seat.
"I'll take a few days to do some matrix research - see for myself if there is any trace of Art to be found. Not that I expect much success with that. I'll also get going to look if any others of our team have surfaced.
You've got my comm code - give me a call if you find out anything else or need help.
I'll also try to find that practitioner - maybe even one who survives til we get to our victory beer. If it's the same Deckard I know we might stand a chance.
He stood up.
"See you soon"
#232