Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Poindexter on <03-19-15/1818:03>
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[Jacksonville, CAS. April 13th, 5:27am 2076]
Not even the throngs of churchgoers who swarm into the first baptist church downtown have woken up yet. The morning dew is still forming on things at this hour. The sky is dark and thick, rolling clouds rush by above the city, staying close to the treetops and threatening to burst and engulf everything in one of Jacksonville's famous three day thunderstorms. The perfect party weather from last night is long forgotten as a chill creeps in from the ocean, trying to cool as much as it can before the blistering sun comes up again in a couple hours to cook everything off again. And then, the smell will be back. That horrible, rotten shrimp and saltpeter odor that seeps out of the swamp and into everything, everywhere and everybody.
Most of the city has only been sleeping for about two hours or so, having gone on a near record-setting bender last night in celebration of the first warm weekend of the year. Even more of the city will be getting up in about an hour, putting on their nicest clothes and headed out to church, despite how tired and ragged they feel. After church, there's usually a big lunch, then all manner of activities and whatnot to keep those tired people up and moving, despite the haze of sleep they wander in. It's a great day for the "right sort of people" to make moves that they might not get away with during the rest of the week.
It is in these early and innocent hours of the day that you each get a message on your comm.
<<@FP [DaOne] Yo, no bullshit, wiz? I NEED a mug like you, wiz? Holla back, ASAP, wiz?>>
<<@Byte [DaOne] Yo, I need high end matrix overwatch for mid-grade pay. I can toss ya some discount merch to make up the difference though. Holla at a mug as soon as ya can, wiz?>>
<<@Viso [DaOne] Yo, sorry I never got back at a mug bout them drinks, yo. But for real, if Greg says its all good, for real? It's all good for real. I got some last minute shit that needs doin before church today that I could use a mug's help with, wiz? Holla back as soon as you can, wiz?>>
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Normally not being one to take part in the festivities others seem to enjoy, Byte did splurge a little last night as the city was the most alive he's seen since coming to J-town. So, in the heat of the partying, Byte visited his favorite hangout at Slack Jaw's bar. Still, Byte's idea of partying is a modest meal, few drinks, a couple of winks and going back home for one of his all-night gaming sessions. Naturally, Byte was a bit tipsy and riled up when his com beeped to life and interrupted his match. Drek! Every frackin' time.
<<@Byte [DaOne] Yo, I need high end matrix overwatch for mid-grade pay. I can toss ya some discount merch to make up the difference though. Holla at a mug as soon as ya can, wiz?>>
Byte smirks, his mind already racing with possibilities. A job? I hope it's fun. Byte dismisses his game and match, no longer caring about beating his trash-talking opponent. He then quickly goes over his settings and programs, making sure he's ready for anything in almost a paranoid manner before he goes to reply to the message.
<<@DaOne [Byte] Was just gettin' bored yo. Overwatch is meh, but I will definitely be hittin' ya up for some DCMerch, wiz? Sure, I can do that... Been wanting to play with my new persona anyway, y'know? You know.>>
Byte then immediately hops back into his favorite action game and goes for a round of "NubStomp." "Hmm... Where was I supposed to meet him again?"
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<<@DaOne [Byte] Was just gettin' bored yo. Overwatch is meh, but I will definitely be hittin' ya up for some DCMerch, wiz? Sure, I can do that... Been wanting to play with my new persona anyway, y'know? You know.>>
<<@Byte [DaOne] Big ups on the speedy response, yo! Meet me at the yard before seven. Bring what you're gonna need.>>
Included is an ARO showing a location.
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Viso had been having all kinds of trouble adjusting to Jacksonville time; he kept waking up around 4 AM and falling asleep around 9 PM. He'd have to fix that eventually, but it's not like he had anything to do at the moment.
He looked around his apartment. Mold in the bathroom; outdated wallpaper; no hot water. Basically, it was just like his place in Seattle. It had only been a few days since he moved in under one of his Fake SINs, but already it felt like he had lived here for a while.
Except for the damn time zone.
He had told Paul that he had to get away from Seattle for a bit. Paul had nodded understandingly, and told him he could mind the business. He was a good guy; a bit clueless though. Viso just hoped that he wouldn't return to find his friend bankrupt; he had never been too good with numbers.
Viso pulled up a chair, sat down in it, and started scrolling through AR maps. He spent an hour highlighting areas of the map. He had only been there a few days, but he had familiarized himself with the local gangs and a few local landmarks. Jacksonville was enormous though, much larger than Seattle. It felt childish, but it would help solidify his memory. Even if he never looked at the map again, just the act of highlighting it would help him remember.
With a thought, he pulled the local time to the front of his display. 5:20 AM Hell, it was early, but he was pretty damn awake. Maybe some bartender would skip church to serve the unholy ones? Some things have to remain consistent in the world. He started looking for a bar that was close by.
He remembered back to a couple of days ago. He was supposed to meet up with some fixer for drinks. The guy hadn't showed.
His commlink notified him of a message. Viso's eyebrow raises as he notices the sender. Parli del diavolo! This better be good.
<<@Viso [DaOne] Yo, sorry I never got back at a mug bout them drinks, yo. But for real, if Greg says its all good, for real? It's all good for real. I got some last minute shit that needs doin before church today that I could use a mug's help with, wiz? Holla back as soon as you can, wiz?>>
The accent didn't exactly come as a surprise, but Viso still felt slightly disappointed. He'd gotten over his contempt of those who had grown up in worse conditions than himself long ago, but sometimes you just want to talk normal English for once.
<<@DaOne [Viso] Nessun problema. You're the one who missed out on drinks. You called the right guy to get stuff done. What do you need?>>
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[Jacksonville, CAS. April 13th, 11.27pm 2076]
Marcus spent much of the prior night at the Mayport NCO mess having a grillout and chili off. There are few orks that Marcus get on with and they're all in uniform. The average age of an ork NCO in CAS is lower than any other race, maybe because we all push ourselves before we die young...
Getting drunk on the navy dime is slottin' easier than on army... even if all of the CAS ships are dry
2am comes, and goes but by 3 all of the illicit card and dice games have dried up along with the unlucky credsticks. Even the coin-ops are dead. Marcus suits up and heads out to relax. The holiday is over and tomorrow, scratch that, today is Tuesday.
Getting back to 8103 from Mayport on the Harley doesn't take long and the MPs are easier about letting people out of Mayport than in. A quick appraisal of the property shows that it is intact and Marcus is inside, soon examining the back of his eyelids
[Jacksonville, CAS. April 14th, 5:27am 2076]
<<@FP [DaOne] Yo, no bullshit, wiz? I NEED a mug like you, wiz? Holla back, ASAP, wiz?>>
.... Time passes ....
[Jacksonville, CAS. April 14th, 5.45am 2076]
The day starts with an enormous cough, a groan, the echo of wind, passing, and an extremely satisfying ball scratch.
[Jacksonville, CAS. April 14th, 5.50am 2076]
As the soyKaf is chugging, Marcus checks his comms and replies to those that interest him, One stands out, the potential for hard and fast cash is always inviting and he is rarely running in J-Ville as... don't shit where you eat
<<@DaOne [FP] Chummer take this as that holla back yo NEEDED. Hit me back with time/place>>
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<<@DaOne [Viso] Nessun problema. You're the one who missed out on drinks. You called the right guy to get stuff done. What do you need?>>
<<@Viso [DaOne] I need you to hook up with a mug at the train yard before 7am. Bring everything you're finna need. Clock is already ticking.>>
Included is an ARO detailing the location.
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<<@DaOne [FP] Chummer take this as that holla back yo NEEDED. Hit me back with time/place>>
<<@FP [DaOne] Strap up and meet me at the yard. No time to fuck around, wiz?>>
An ARO of the spot is included with the text.
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The trip to the train yards is about 7 minutes at speed without traffic. He says absent-mindedly
Marcus picks up his go-bag. It contains the Ares, 3 clips, the vibro-knife, both swords, 2 flash bangs, 2 frag grenades and the armour vest. He puts another flash pack in his long coat pocket and is wearing the telescoping staff in its concealable harness. He hums and haws at taking any surveillance equipment but decides against it. Last minute he grabs the gecko gloves and pockets them.
[Jacksonville, CAS. April 14th, 5.58am 2076]
<<@DaOne [FP] OMW. There in 10>>
[Jacksonville, CAS. April 14th, 6.0am 2076]
The soykaf machine chugs to a halt inside an empty house
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<<@Byte [DaOne] Big ups on the speedy response, yo! Meet me at the yard before seven. Bring what you're gonna need.>>
Byte takes a look at the ARO of the location before also looking at a map for more details on the area. He then looks at the time. I have time for another round or two... Byte then sighs aloud and decides his time is better spent preparing. He gathers everything he usually carries with him when he's running and gets dressed out. He sets his clothes to a dark blue color, not forgetting his hat and headband to cover his headware. He attaches his micro transceiver and places his Fichetti Security 600 in its holster on his back. He then places his Ares Light in a small bag on his bike and goes into his deck.
Sleaze 6, Data Processing 5, Attack 5, Firewall 3 Set. "Overwatch? Hmm... Better load up the Track, Sneak, Virtual Machine, Browse and Configurator programs." Byte then sets his Configurator program to have ready a set-up of: Attack 6, Firewall 5, Sleaze 5, Data Processing 3 with the programs Blackout, Hammer and Lockdown ready. "That, should do it." Happy with his specs, Byte then makes sure his persona is set correctly: A young female Majin (http://i.imgur.com/KD2unUn.jpg MINUS THE CAPE!) with a scouter (tracking). When he changes his configurator, his persona loses the scouter and gains a short sword (Hammer) and Blaster (Blackout). (If I really need more items for the others, I'll edit this, but honestly can't think of examples atm.)
Byte makes one last check to ensure he has his medical gear, simple B&E gear as well as his miscellaneous accessories. Getting on his bike, Byte checks his map one last time to reaffirm the route he is taking. Satisfied, he places his earbuds in his ears, puts on his AR gloves and takes off for the meeting area. Byte decides to park his bike in the safest sport he can find a couple of blocks down at Myrtle and Beaver and scouts the area as he makes his way to the meeting area, taking note of each potential escape route. (He also cross checks with his map as he does this.)
Upon reaching the meeting area, Byte quite happily starts up another round of his game. It only took Byte 50 minutes from the time he got the message about the place to when he arrived after scouting around.
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<<@Viso [DaOne] I need you to hook up with a mug at the train yard before 7am. Bring everything you're finna need. Clock is already ticking.>>
All right then, no time to waste.
He quickly changes into his Synergist Business Line suit; pulling the Khaki colored jacket overtop. Sending a mental command, the suit changes to a verdant green color. He tucks his taser into the inside holster, and clips a secondary holster inside. Picking up his Ares Predator V, he slides open the chamber. Opening a nearby drawer, he pulls out a clip of ammunition. He slams it into the chamber, and cocks the gun. Tucking it into the second holster, he turns back to the drawer of ammunition. He pulls out a couple of clips for his Taser, and carefully selects a couple more clips for his pistol. He slides them into his pockets.
He picks up his Ballistic Mask and tucks it into his jacket. He slides his master commlink into his jacket pocket, and his burner link into his pants pocket. He picks up a silver credstick and places it next to his commlink.
After a moment of thought, Viso opens up another drawer and places 2 small devices and a syringe inside his jacket.
Looking in the mirror, he straightens his suit. Ready to go.
He double-checks the location that One67 had sent. There's no way I'm walking there. Even if I could get there in time, I don't exactly feel like walking through a bunch of slums. Mentally, he starts a search for cabs that operate near him. His results turn up nada. He briefly reconsiders walking, but that would take a while, with no guarantees that he'd get there in time. He starts to compose a message, brow furrowed in thought.
I don't know One67 that well, but he wants me there. He's the fixer in town, maybe he can whip up something.
<<@DaOne [Viso] I'm new in town; I don't have any transportation. You got someway to get me there? Anything would be wiz. Willing to compensate for the expense.>>
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Marcus is at the yard by 6.10am.
The train yard is circled by 6 roads. The aim is that Marcus will approach up Myrtle, slowly left onto Church, right onto Acorn then left onto Beaver where he'll up his speed past the entrance to the industrial estate (in 2015 this is a farmers market and cold storage) left into Stockton. Then left into Dennis back to Myrtle at the underpass. The aim of this drive is to reconnoiter the area. This would take 10-12 minutes unless:
- He sees anyone else loitering around Acorn on his first pass
- He gets an update on the location (not keen on stopping in the middle of Acorn St as it is a tactically unfortunate position)
On Church St. Marcus will pull into an area that seems shaded and not under video surveillance to pull the Ares and swords out of his go-bag. Stabby and Slashy go into the sheathes concealed in the back of his coat and the pistol into a holster on the bike. If nothing else happens Marcus will return to the meeting point, this puts him at a standstill on Acorn by 6.30am.
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<<@DaOne [Viso] I'm new in town; I don't have any transportation. You got someway to get me there? Anything would be wiz. Willing to compensate for the expense.>>
<<@Viso [DaOne] Where you at? I'll send my girl over to scoop a mug up.>>
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<<@Viso [DaOne] Where you at? I'll send my girl over to scoop a mug up.>>
<<DaOne [Viso] Sending you the address. Thanks man.>>
Attached: Address
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[Trainyard, Jacksonville, CAS. April 13th, 6:55am 2076]
The sun is up, but just barely. The smell comes back as soon as the sun rises, seeping out of the swamp in waves of fog and low hanging clouds of foul scented mist. If you are out-doors, you are wet. There's just no way around it, the dew is so thick. Unless you've been in south america or parts of africa, you've never been anywhere as humid as this in your life. It almost feels like you're in a cold-sim VR trid about swimming through cold sewage water. At least it's still not hot enough for the mosquitoes yet.
FP has been here for nearly an hour already, and when he first arrived, the trainyard seemed empty at first, but after listening closely, he can hear the sound of aerosol escaping from can in short controlled bursts. Following the sound, he's eventually led around to a tall, white human in a mismatched sweatsuit. The top is green and has a hood, pulled up over his head and the bottoms are black with a print of "Mookey Moopey" a Japanese childrens show about a cutesy frog; the merchandise from said show is popular with strippers and drug users for some reason. The man has a plastic crate full of spray cans at his feet and is working on a 6 foot wide by 3 foot high three color piece on the side of a train. When he sees you come around the corner, he freezes for a moment, poised for flight, then smiles wide. One has seen better days, but he's in a good mood and happy to see you. "Finna be another hour or so fore the rest a these mugs get here. You wanna do lookout, yo?" You spent the time waiting while keeping an eye out for security drones and warning One if any approached. FP also saw Byte arrive about 10 minutes ago.
It's at this point in the morning that a large black BMW 400 comes pulling west up Church street toward the yard. One gets a message on his Comm, reaches into his pocket to read it, then interrupts whatever Byte and FP may have been talking about with the words, "Rest a the team here, yo. Time ta go. I'll explain everything in the car, wiz?" He gathers up his cans into the plastic crate and lifts it up over one shoulder, walking back toward the road. The car pulls to a stop near the three of you and the drivers side window rolls down, revealing a gaunt human woman in her early thirties. She's got blonde hair with too much product in it in a valiant but futile attempt to combat the humidty, and a bit too much make up. She's clearly tired as hell, but despite all that, she's still got an attractive face. There's a man in a green suit sitting next to her. She yawns really loud and smiles at One before saying, "So, what's goin on, Sam? The fuck am I doing all the way out here, anyways?" One responds only with an apologetic grin and the words, "I need to borrow your car for the day, girl."
During the ride back east over the Mathews bridge to Jennifer's apartment in Arlington, the two of them argue in the front seat like CRAZY. You're certain that the two of them will come to blows before the ride is over and you wonder just how horrifying a ride like this would have been a hundred years ago, before the dog brain did all the driving instead of a screaming mad human. She never tells you her name is Jennifer, but you know her name because it's about a ten minute ride of "Jennifer, no. No jennifer! Dammit Jennifer I never said- Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer! No Jennifer, Fuck YOU!" You get a few distinct impressions by the time she slams the door and stomps into her apartment crying, leaving the car running and the four of you alone in it. First, that she's a crazy fuckin junkie. Secondly, that Sam is kind of an asshole, or at least that he treats her like shit. Lastly, that they've been together for years and it's always been like this between them.
One turns around in his seat with a look of regret and defeat on his face. A face, which you now notice has received a decent beating within the last 48 hours. He still has a bit of a black-eye hidden underneath that hoodie, now that you look real close. He says to the three of you scrunched into the backseat, "Sorry yo, but I gotta run in talk to this girl right quick, wiz? Won't be but five minutes, yo. Yall go head and introduce yall selves and shit while a mug is in there, wiz?" And with that, he's gone, leaving the three of you alone in an idling car, bumping goblin rap too loud for this time of the morning.
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Byte is used to the idea of arguing... In fact, he was almost raised on it, being the oddball of the family and very hard to deal with. That didn't distract him from his games though, as he was happily occupied the entire trip trying to not be in that BMW. Upon hearing a door slam, Byte almost jumps in reaction as he glances up and notices the girl missing.
After One leaves the vehicle, Byte lets out a sigh loud enough the others could distinctly hear. He hesitates before taking a quick glance at the others. "..." Byte attempts to speak, but instead just closes his eyes and goes back into his own little world while listening to the others. It's obvious by his shift in posture that he is extremely uncomfortable in his current situation and has nothing to say on his own.
Intros? Da fuck man. Someone speak up so I don't have to.
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Marcus looks at the two others squashed into the back seats of the Beemer.
Looking at the one who arrived with the car, he smells of cyberware. He probably has bioware too. His movements are measured and precise. Possibly a street sam but he exudes more self-confidence and charm. Certainly dangerous.
The other, disinterested, disaffected. A lot like Number 2 (a contact of Marcus') carries a deck and is clearly more plugged in than out. Probably the guy doing the work and I'm doing all the protecting!
Hi, call me FP. to both, turning to look at the decker, I'm probably here to defend you so if the drek hits the fan we're joined at the hip. looking at the charmer, What's your deal?
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Byte casts a sideways glance at FP. Meatshield huh? Hope he doesn't bore easy, I don't plan on raising alarms. "Byte." Byte then goes back into his own little world, only answering any questions with brief to-the-point responses... Most of which aren't even complete sentences. (Unless you talk Matrix or video games... Then he has the rambling problem.)
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Viso takes note of his companions. The Ork is the first one to speak. Just from the human's name, it's obvious he's a decker. Muscle, Matrix, and myself. Not a bad combination.
What's your deal?
Viso smiles. He's direct; that's interesting.
"You can call me Viso. I'm going to be the smooth-talker for this job. No offense meant, but I prefer to finish jobs without resorting to physical combat."
He looks out the window; One hadn't come back yet.
"So, did One67 just call you guys out of the blue as well?"
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Byte makes notes to himself as the introductions continue. "Job offer. Nothin' else." Byte reopens his eyes and crosses his arms, his boredom and irritation beginning to surface. "Pay's good, I hope."
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Nope. Nu'in else. I've never even met the guy. Used him before but never met the guy. Seems high strung, know wha' ah mean?
Mental note: Viso is the charmer. 8 bit the decker.
So - with a charmer, a decker and close protection - we looking at a steal job or maybe a revenge thing? What you think?
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Nope. Nu'in else. I've never even met the guy. Used him before but never met the guy. Seems high strung, know wha' ah mean?
Viso nods. Definitely a little more personal than Seattle.
So - with a charmer, a decker and close protection - we looking at a steal job or maybe a revenge thing? What you think?
He shrugs. "Could be either, really. Or both. I can only hope he's professional enough to not bring personal vendettas into a job." He pauses a moment. Although it wouldn't surprise me.
Looking out the window, Viso searches for any sign of One67 coming back out. "We'll find out the details soon enough, I suppose."
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[Jennifer's house, Jacksonville, CAS. April 13th, 7:10am 2076]
One comes jogging back out of the house about five minutes later, the morning sun forming a halo behind his hooded head as he heads toward the car. After hopping back in and saying, "Ayo, one a yall mugs hop up front, yo. I aint tryin ta look suspicious and shit, wiz?" he waits a moment for whoever moves to get situated, then hops back on the road, headed back west the way you came, leaving Arlington over the Mathews bridge. As the four of you drive through the early morning church traffic, One begins to lay it down.
"Aightchyall, here's the deal, wiz? Yall need to jack a DS traphouse fore the lady in charge shows up at nine am today. Yes, that's in less than two hours, so this is a rush job and mugs will be payed accordingly. Whatchyall really be lookin for is a brown duffel bag with eight keys of fake novacoke in it. Bring that to me before it gets inspected, and I'll give ya seven g's and a pound of zen each. Now, anything else yall take from there is on yall. I aint really give a fuck, but I will give ya a good price on any other dope yall happen to come across while you're there. Finally, anything else yall mugs should happen to need that you maybe aint bring with ya can be provided, probably. I know Viso here aint got no ride. What about the rest a yall mugs? If yall need it, a mug can letchya hold this car here, but yall gotta be careful as fuck with it, wiz?" He glances around the car at the three of you. "So, we got a deal or what?"
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Being completely uncomfortable crammed in the back seat with the others, Byte immediately takes the offer to move to the front seat. "Dibs."
"So, we got a deal or what?"
Byte grunts and smirks, "7g+? Sounds 'kay." Byte then bites the tip of his thumb in thought. Traphouse security, random. Enemy meat, high. Combat, very likely. Byte then glances back behind him at his two potential partners. Looks like one can fight. Other unknown. Concern, low. Success chance, unknown. My role, to be determined... Hope they don't plan on bull rushing the place... Though, it'd be entertaining. Expecting minimal matrix security, boring. Might be able to hit systems hard though. Could be fun, if done right. Facing forward, Byte continues to run simulations of various methods of how his decking skills could be used to his advantage.
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Byte then bites the tip of his thumb in thought. Facing forward, Byte continues to run simulations of various methods of how his decking skills could be used to his advantage.
Noticing the look on your face, as well as the biting of the thumb, One makes a good guess as to your thoughts. "You're probably thinking, 'The fuck they need me for?' Right? Well, you here as a 'just in case', wiz? I aint know if a mug got any scrap to him or not..." he says, thumping you on the bicep with one hand. "...but I know you good enough on the matrix to fuck with some low level dixies and make sure it aint no drone type surprises, so do that. And if a mug do got some licks, then feel free to dish em out, yo."
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Byte puts his hand down and stares out the window. "I'll shut their sys, yo." Byte takes a deep breath, "Or turn it on 'em."
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Watching the decker like a little brother, Marcus' protective instincts have kicked in.
Right then, how many guards? Placed where? You go' blue prin's, floor plans? They on the ma'rix? Go' any cams up that By'e can feed off? How many punners at this time of the day? Where is this place? What are the en'ry and egress points? For 7 grand and 2 hours til operashun shu'dahn, ah'm expecking foo'work to be done ALREADY. What intel we go'?
To Byte. Hey little brother, when we know where this is gonna happen, you search the lines see if ya cahn't get us some feeds of the area?
[ooc punners = punters = clientele]
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Byte raises his thumb to FP, "Data search jack spots floor plans drone count cam feed automated weapons White IC Black IC E.D.'s no problem." Byte continue to ramble quietly to himself as the others talk, still listening for any important information.
Being impatient, Byte already starts to put out his feelers on the Matrix, ready to jump in and go to work the instant his brain registers the information needed to start.
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Right then, how many guards? Placed where? You go' blue prin's, floor plans? They on the ma'rix? Go' any cams up that By'e can feed off? How many punners at this time of the day? Where is this place? What are the en'ry and egress points? For 7 grand and 2 hours til operashun shu'dahn, ah'm expecking foo'work to be done ALREADY. What intel we go'?
Good, a professional, for once.
Viso speaks up, "You have any idea where in this place your package is? The clock's ticking, and sifting through an entire house for one bag could take a while, especially if there is security we have to dodge." He glances at FP before turning back to One67. "Seven kay is not bad, you understand, but you've given us a pretty severe deadline. We can run on minimal information, but that wouldn't help either of us, now would it? Anything you give to help us, helps you. Capisce?"
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Right then, how many guards? Placed where? You go' blue prin's, floor plans? They on the ma'rix? Go' any cams up that By'e can feed off? How many punners at this time of the day? Where is this place? What are the en'ry and egress points? For 7 grand and 2 hours til operashun shu'dahn, ah'm expecking foo'work to be done ALREADY. What intel we go'?
"You have any idea where in this place your package is? The clock's ticking, and sifting through an entire house for one bag could take a while, especially if there is security we have to dodge. Seven kay is not bad, you understand, but you've given us a pretty severe deadline. We can run on minimal information, but that wouldn't help either of us, now would it? Anything you give to help us, helps you. Capisce?"
Listening to your concerns, One switches the car over to autopilot and begins rolling a spliff as you speak. He's fast. You can tell those calloused and paint-stained hands have done this a million times. He's just about finished by the time you're both done talking. "Word. Yeah, I feel ya. Let's see, guards? Usually three, but you never know when you get that close to the streets. Probly also gonna be a few random fiends up in there, too, wiz? Maybe ten, fifteen of em. They might scrap or they might haul ass. Again, ya never know. But... What I do know is that whatever guards they got there is some punks. I could probably take one of these guys, one on one, wiz? Now, they all gonna be strapped, all gonna be vested up, probly no wizards, probly no razorboys, but again, ya never know. Dixies always liked chrome more than mojo, wiz? Finna be one out front, one inside, and one on the stash. Sometimes, they rock another in the back, sometimes two out front, but it's ALWAYS three in those three spots." He licks the spliff to seal it, then points at Viso with one finger. "That's gonna be where tha bag is at, wiz? In a room on the second story, behind a locked door. That door looks like wood, but it's probly reinforced." After lighting and taking a hit off the spliff, he switches the car back to manual, holding it between two fingers on the steering wheel and filling the car with smoke. "It's two entrances; one in the front and one in the back. All the windows are barrred. No official blueprints, but it aint hard to find your way around in a traphouse. Aint nothin in there but dopefiends, dope, and probly a few guns. Just get to the second floor and get through that door, and you're good, wiz? Oh yeah! You asked about Matrix shit, too. Naw. These fools aint got shit. Aint no cameras round there neither. Mugs done knocked em down a long time ago. I'm sayin. This mug, Byte is here strictly as overwatch. Unless he got some wicked hand skills no one told me about, he's here for backup, wiz?"
He takes another massive hit from the spliff before passing it to Byte. "Yo, it's just Zen, chummer." Once Byte has taken the spliff and put it into rotation, whether he hits it or not, One speaks again. "Now, is it any kinda gear yall mugs finna need for this shit? I'm a be chip with yall mugs. This job is for a new client and if it works out, he's gonna be a good client for a long time. This has to work out. Whatever yall need, for real, wiz?"
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Byte simply passes the spliff into rotation without hitting it. Rather, Byte actually decides to "get in character", as he likes to call it, and turns his hat forward and takes out his respirator, which doubles as a mask. The respirator straps around the back of Byte's head, which when combined with the hat and headband cover a solid 75% or so of Byte's face. Byte fidgets with both his hat and respirator until they both sit just perfectly on his head.
Byte insists he's ready for his role on the run, "I'm good for run." Byte's voice is a soothing tone, almost that of a child's now. While his mouth is covered, simply glancing at Byte's face could tell you he's smiling under it as if laughing to some sort of inside joke. Byte then changes the color of his outfit for about a minute, making very simple patterns of the various pieces until he finally settles on a mix of dark blue, black and dark purple. Byte then simply waits, staring out the window. Again, he still listens while his mind is busy hoping around from one network to the next, killing time with mundane checks on all public matrix space along the way.
-
No wizards and jus human muscle. Righ'. What type of drugs do you think will be on hand? The spliff approaches, but is passed right on by, Zen? No' for me, no fanks. Are the guards known for partaking of the merch? If so, and wiv the danger of added drugged bodies, ah reckon we could go hit the front guards quietly, then go in loud and proud, scare the herd away and take out whomever we need. 3 guards, one up front, dead. One behind door, how do we get the door open? Go' any ex-ex to blow the door? I've got a flash pack and some bangs or even 'nades to throw in once the doors popped. One of us secs the back door while one of us goes for the stash. Ain't gonna be beat cops on the grahnd? Can any of us handle a LAW or an RPG? Can you get us one to pop the door?
To Byte
Hey little brother (says the 5'7" Ork to the 6'0" Human) can you see what the corp popo are doing? All of them?
-
No wizards and jus human muscle. Righ'. What type of drugs do you think will be on hand?
"Cram, Bliss, Novacoke, Jazz mostly, but ya never know."
Are the guards known for partaking of the merch?
"Not when they're on the job. 'Cept for the Jazz. Now, if they think shit's about to pop off, you can expect em to be Miles fuckin Davis by time it does."
One behind door, how do we get the door open? Go' any ex-ex to blow the door? I've got a flash pack and some bangs or even 'nades to throw in once the doors popped. One of us secs the back door while one of us goes for the stash. Ain't gonna be beat cops on the grahnd? Can any of us handle a LAW or an RPG? Can you get us one to pop the door?
"Whoa, chill son, chill! It aint that reinforced. Good solid ram oughtta do it. Mono-saw maybe..." Then his face lights up and he points at Byte repeatedly. "Yo, maybe a mug can hack that shit open, wiz? But for real, you aint finna need no fuckin bazooka to take this door down. It's just to keep fiends out. And don't be tossin no grenades in there neither. You don't wanna blow up your payday, wiz?"
-
To FP, "Done." Byte immediately swaps his Firewall and Data Processing attributes on his Deck(6 Sleaze, 5+1 Data Processing, 5 Attack, 3 Firewall) before redoing his programs with: Signal Scrub(-2 Noise), Toolbox(+1 Data Processing), Virtual Machine, Exploit(+2 Sleaze when Hacking on Fly) and Baby Monitor. (Programs in Core Rulebook [2nd Printing] p.245)
Byte then Hot-Sim jacks into the public grid before attempting to hop into the local grid. Botching that, he simply swaps over to AR and jacks-out. After a quick reboot, and acting as if nothing at all happened while the others talk, Byte once again jacks in to the matrix via Hot-Sim and tries to hop grids.
Byte enters the Local Grid successfully on his second attempt and starts to attempt to locate Police Icons. He starts with a search for Police Vehicles, and attempts to find a comlink of an officer. It takes a minute, but Byte eventually locates what he's after and goes to place his mark on it. (I'll await the results on the final test here.)
-
Viso offers the Zen to One67 again. "Nothing for me; gotta be clear for the job."
Pausing a moment, he continues, "Other than the aforementioned transportation, I believe we're ready for this job. I don't know about any specialized gear we could need, but the run sounds simple enough, and we have a capable team. Do you have any preferences about casualties? Do you want us to run non-lethal?"
-
Pausing a moment, he continues, "Other than the aforementioned transportation, I believe we're ready for this job. I don't know about any specialized gear we could need, but the run sounds simple enough, and we have a capable team. Do you have any preferences about casualties? Do you want us to run non-lethal?"
"Naw. Alls I care is that you get ALL EIGHT keys a the fake nova, that you DON'T leave any trails back to me, and that you DON'T try to disguise yourselves as members of another gang. I aint tryin ta fuck up the truce, yaheard?"
-
Dixie Sisters. Either of them there? Ya know where they are? No chance we're going to meet with them... no?
-
Dixie Sisters. Either of them there? Ya know where they are? No chance we're going to meet with them... no?
He snorts loudly. "Naw, kid! Naw, Tammy and Jolene stay on THEIR compound, wiz? They aint runnin no streets."
-
Once finished on the Matrix, and at the end of the drive, Byte glances towards FP, "City's barely awake. Cops motionless. Tired still. No problems." Byte then simply sighs, the look in his eyes as he stares off tells you that he is ready to start the mission and get it over with.
Being the dedicated back-up, Byte allows the others to lead on as he simply looks for opportunities to assist in the run where needed. "Ready on stand-by. Always."
-
[Trainyard, Jacksonville, CAS. April 13th, 7:30am 2076]
The sun outside glares off the dew formed overnight on every surface. You've seen one or two pedestrians and no other vehicles since you got off the highway. It's a warm, quiet, humid, and smelly sunday morning in Jacksonville. Rounding a corner and headed back into westside, One feels like the meet is more or less done. He pulls up near the trainyard again and stops the car. "Aight, If yall aint need the car, yall can hop out how and do your thing. If you got any gear you need, gimme the list now, and I'll have it in half an hour. Still give yall a full hour to hit the place. Just make SURE you get all eight keys of the FAKE shit. If any of it stays there, no one gets paid, ya feel me? No one."
-
Right. We need a plan, quick like. Can you drive us by the target? Is that even possible? If you can get me to my bike then I can recce the place.
-
In the absence of other comments: Great. That's a plan, we shall head back to the train depot, I'll get my bike, quick recce and then we hit the place.
-
As Viso gets out of the car, he turns back to One67.
"Shall we meet up again, in say, 2 hours? Same place?"
Viso nods to his companions. "I'm going to see what I can find out about this place; although I don't have high hopes, considering our lack of time. Here's my commcode, we'll meet back here in a half hour?"
After departing ways, Viso brings up several AR overlays. He starts looking for any information he can on the traphouse, but the public grid kept making things difficult for him. After trying to coax everything he could out of his devices, he gave up when he got "Error 408: Request Timeout" for the 10th time. Frustrated, he waits for the others to return.
-
Can you drive us by the target? Is that even possible? If you can get me to my bike then I can recce the place.
"Naw, aint too many cars as nice as this round there. Get seen, wiz? But here, take this." He passes you a cheap, black, scuffed up meta-link. "All the numbers and shit you need are on there."
"Shall we meet up again, in say, 2 hours? Same place?"
"Naw, we finna meet up someplace way safer than this. Somewhere in riverside, wiz? Soon as it's all done and everything's all good, yall holler at a mug, and I'll give ya an address to meet up at." Before driving away, he adds one more thing. "I aint finna say good luck, cause I aint think yall mugs need that shit, but I will say to make sure you're thorough, wiz? Peace!"
-
Righ'. Eiffer of you got some kinda vid or trid recording device? I wanna drive fru at speed and we can slow it down on cam afferwards. Bikes got sensors and shit bu' we need eyeballs.
We got two options: Reckon that we could just go fru the front door an scare the shi' out of anyone who can be scared. Geek the guard on the door, he smiles at the word 'geek', silen' like, check for keys or pop the door if'n we can' open i'. Da jus' leaves 2 guards. I fight wiv two swords but carry the gun, so I'll need space when it kicks off. Check for guns on the inside, move in, shoot anything that ain' givin up.
He looks at both Byte and Viso, No shooting people we dun hafe to. Viso, you get to the stash, Byte, assuming ders a back door, you check i' an I'll sweep the rooms, else you stay on the fron' door. We exfil which ever door is safest and hoof it to the bikes.
Second, we go in fru a back way, I got these gloves that make me in'o a second storey man, he rasps the t in storey, with his filed down tusks some letters are more tongue than they ought to be, so I can ge' fru the window and come from behind, he chuckles.if we do that then we leave the guy of the front door to come in at us so da's a risk. Reckon the stash is easiest that way.
I got 2 flashbangs if we need more scary.
Gotta recce though. Fough's?
-
Righ'. Eiffer of you got some kinda vid or trid recording device? I wanna drive fru at speed and we can slow it down on cam afferwards. Bikes got sensors and shit bu' we need eyeballs.
"I can do it."
Gotta recce though. Fough's?
Byte merely nods when he's mentioned. "Either's fine. Rec first."
-
Viso tilts his head as he considers the Ork's plan. "Driving through at high speeds seems a little," he pauses for a moment, "suspicious, don't you think? I like the idea of gathering some intel before we go in, but perhaps something a little quieter? We don't want to spook the guards before we even hit the place."
He nods at the plan. It was simple, and probably would work. "3 guards shouldn't be too difficult to take down, and we are on a clock. Perhaps I can have a little chat with one of them when we enter, so that we can have him open the door for us? It will be simple enough to get rid of him if he refuses to cooperate." He glances at FP and Byte. "What do you think? I'm pretty sure I can convince him I'm there to try the merchandise, and that will get us in without having to break any doors or windows. Failing that, we can always go back to a smash and grab."
-
Nah man, I looks like an Ork GoGanger, from Red Five or even 'Grub force'. I'll go past at 'normal' speed with a recording device da' way they're less likely to be suspicious. Be'er than going past slowly, rubber necking the join'.
-
Nah man, I looks like an Ork GoGanger, from Red Five or even 'Grub force'. I'll go past at 'normal' speed with a recording device da' way they're less likely to be suspicious. Be'er than going past slowly, rubber necking the join'.
Viso thinks back to One67 explicitly wanting them to not disguise themselves as gang members. Still, this is only for reconnaissance; when we hit the house, we'll be undisguised. It's got to be a common occurrence, we should be fine.
Viso shrugs. "Sounds like a plan. Shall we get going? I don't think we can plan any more without some more information."
-
Byte keeps quiet, his expertise being in the Matrix, not the meat. "Wired doors no prob. Might even pick physical locks. Byte glances in his small pack on his hip, R6 Auto Picker and R4 Maglock Passkey. Should suffice for garbage dealers. "B&E pick and pass... If guard doesn't have key(s). If all else, Ork can smash... Or we blow it.
Byte drifts back off into his own world, always listening.
-
Let's do it.
-
Byte grabs the com provided by One, "Lemme see..." Byte then finds an address and picture of the target, "Dunno if dated, but got pic, sec." Byte then closes his eyes, giving off the impression he's digging through his own com. Byte does a quick search for images near the target area and scans through until he's found 3 pictures he feels might give a better idea of the place.
"Dunno if enough, but got visuals." Byte sends the pictures to FP and Viso. "Could sneak east. Distract or hop fence. Backdoor faces west. Can hack-or-pick if no guard. It becomes obvious that Byte is used to sneaking around rather than fighting at this point, but he still attempts to offer direct ideas as well. "Or simple smash front, flank rear. If not full frontal."
After sharing his thoughts, Byte goes quiet again, his social discomfort beginning to show. Talked too much...
-
Eifer of you guys know d'is area? The locals ain't likely to be defensive are dey?
I ain' gonna drive frough, these little stree's are to narrow and dere's no chance we'll get frough unno'iced. I'm up for going in 2 handed, me as your, he points to Viso, protection. But and if dey aren't set up for that kinda transaction then they are not going to be friendly and we'll have little warning of pandemonium. He separates all of the syllables. When that happens we have to act quick and all we have in reserve is little brother here, pointing to Byte.
Most importantly we need a good exit strategy: I got a place so if we can we get to Kings Road by zig zagging east til we reach it. Kick down Kings Road all the way to the River, swap to the 228, cross the bridge, get off on Atlantic Boulevard heading West. Back over the river on the Fuller Bridge, get off on 15 going south and then meet up at the Florida state college. My safe house is 5 minutes from there. We'll hole up there, see what we got, take what you want and sell the rest to the chummer, split the proceeds 3 ways. Byte, I'll give you the knowledge how to get in, in case we don't make it.
Sets up email to send from his comm with delay by 1 hour. PGP key for this encryption is "allUrBases", get it?
-
Eifer of you guys know d'is area? The locals ain't likely to be defensive are dey?
"Still new. Dungetoutmuch." Byte is obviously busy in his own AR, as his speech is quickened and slanged.
When that happens we have to act quick and all we have in reserve is little brother here, pointing to Byte.
"Armed, but nogood. Byte then rambles to himself as he continues his little adventure. could cover fire? or flank. maybe point blank. harder miss. pistol, low dps."
Byte, I'll give you the knowledge how to get in, in case we don't make it.
Sets up email to send from his comm with delay by 1 hour. PGP key for this encryption is "allUrBases", get it?
Byte suddenly stops walking, pauses, then looks at FP. "No one dies. Perfect score. Byte gains a cocky smirk, sounding like he's talking about a Matrix Game. "Short term mem. bad. Tell me code after win, wiz? Byte then continues walking.
After some time, Byte starts to subtly laugh to himself, his adventure in the 'trix seeming to go well.
-
[ooc]Assuming that we're at the place where Marcus left his bike.[/ooc]
Ok - we go over there, li'le bruvver, you drop off at 3rd and Engle and hike up to the back of this place and get a view on a back window. Viso and me'll ride up to the fron' door posing as buyers. I'll pu' my gun in sigh' but holsdered. Viso can you hide yours? We'll go in and then take out who we need to. I got my duffel bag so will carry wha' we can ou'.
Viso - if you think its going souff menshun the Naval yards at Maypor', like that's where we'll be selling or some how. I'll do de same.
Byte, I'll comms you the momen' shi' hits the fan. Then you take this flashbang, he gives him one of the flashbangs, and throw it at the base of the outside, he looks at Byte, its got to go on the outside of the window. This should orient the bad guys at the window. Wait till its blown and then hoof it to the bikes and start them up.
We're going. He mounts up and starts the engine.
-
Viso hopped onto the back of the ork's bike. A sissy bar made it easy for him to hold on without having to put his arms all the way around the ork's large frame. Leaning back would keep them cool and mitigate any... discomfort.
"Alright then, all set, let's get going."
-
Marcus leads out. Heading to the point where Byte is going to drop off.
-
Byte arranges to be able to reach his destination. (Dunno if the Bike sits 3 or I got mine to go. Just gonna assume I got mine for now.)
Once at his destination, Byte continues to put the finishing touches on his backdoor. <<@FP, Viso [Byte] Yo, hacked home. Locks no prob.>>
-
[Traphouse, Westside, Jacksonville, CAS. April 13th, 7:42am 2076]
Byte can't taste or smell anything anymore except for that damned swamp air. It's in his lungs, his hair, his clothes; it's covering him in a thin film it feels like. There's just so much damn vegetation back here and so many mosquitoes, his expedition around the back of the house has resulted in more than few bites, scratches, and various types of stickers. He comes around the rear of the crappy, paint flaking house and can almost imagine how it must have looked fifty years ago. At one point in time, this place was beautiful. It was somebody's dream come true. Today, there's a skinny gaunt featured human woman in a skimpy black dress getting ready to blow a human man in a synth leather jacket out behind it. She's on her knees, and he's just about to whip it out and get to business when Byte comes through the foliage around the corner, and into the backyard to join them.
"Aay! Git th'fuuk outta hahr, faggit! Th'seer aint no threeway, GIT!" Slurs the man in a heavy local dialect while angrily waving his hand at you, shooing you away.
---------------------------------------------------
FP is quickly noticing that, not only is he the only ork here, but he's the only non-human he can see. The hard-luck denizens of the ghetto look and some even stare at the large ork in the leather jacket and army fatigues, walking with his middle-class corper looking friend. Viso is rather pleased with the situation though. FP, looking like a bodyguard, only makes his ruse more effective. As the pair approach the house, it begins to look more and more bleak with every step. There's crap everywhere; broken bottles, plastic wrappers, empty poppers, even the occasional good old fashioned needles in the street, the yard, even up on the porch, you both notice as you approach the front door. There's two hungry looking humans, a male and a female with dirty clothes and gaunt features, one carrying a sleeping baby, shuffling about near the house, as well as a third up on the porch, talking to the two large armed men standing on either side of the open front door. They both wear bluejeans, white wifebeaters, and cowboy boots, but one of them has a green bandana tied around his head. They both have large pistols stuffed into the front waistbands of their pants.
[spoiler]FP and Byte, Gimme one roll each, either etiquette, Street drugs, sprawl life, or gangs. The further left the skill you roll, the fewer hits you'll need, As well as the rolls for whatever the hell else yall feel like. I spose Byte, go head and gimme whatever rolls you'd like to do as well.
Also, if anyone's packing any heat they're trying to hide, gimme one palming roll for each piece. People are scopin ya now, wiz?[/spoiler]
-
Viso does his best to play the role of someone who's a little bit nervous, but acting like he's not nervous at all. A guy from the richer part of town trying to fit in locally so he can score his drugs and get the hell out. As he steps towards the porch, he tosses his chin up.
"Yo, chummers," he says, his smile a bit unsure. "What it is?"
He stops when they turn towards him, his eyes dart pointedly to the guns in their waistband. "s'cool, yo. I jus' heard I could find a little fun in this neighborhood." He brushes his thumb across his nose. "N'aw mean?"
He looks back at F-P, as if to make sure the work is still there, then turns back to the men on the porch, reassured and smiling.
-
Marcus, now in full FP mode, is looking around, acting like an intimidating body guard hired for the day. He is standing one step behind and on the side with the most threat of Viso. As Viso is talking, FP is looking left and right and checking out threats around them. If he sees anyone, other than the guards, looking at him he will smile briefly and then move on.
When the guards look at him he will move his jacket aside to show his gun.
-
Byte glances at the man and woman and immediately lowers his head and sighs. Why does this always happen to me He then starts to move away from the two, trying to stay in the backyard of the target house while getting as far away from the two as he can. "Not interested yo. You can slot her solo, not a prob." "Wouldn't touch that dirty **** anyway.
Byte keeps his back to the man and woman, checking his AR for anything important happening. He then decides to log into the house's central node on the account he made. Observe activity, unlock doors, blast any T.V. they got and order some chips. Kinda hungry... Damn swamp air.
-
The two men are still negotiating with the junkie at the door when Viso interrupts them, mid sentence.
"Yo, chummers," he says, his smile a bit unsure. "What it is?"
The conversation abruptly stops. The customer looks at you with a mix of fear and rage, sizing you up. You're not sure if he notices the large ork behind you or the predator, but fear gets the better of him. He stammers out, "Fuukawl thisheeyit. Seeyawl layter." before scampering off. The men at the door are visibly angry with you. The one with the bandana puts his hand on his pistol while the other one takes a step up to block your path to the door. He's got maybe 12 teeth left, long filthy hair, and open sores all over his face. His breath is horrible as he announces rather loudly, "Faggit and yer fuckin trawg need ta larn ta wayt yer tarn, boah!"
Viso stays in character like a master thespian and, pretending not to notice death when it's an inch from his face, he responds, cool as ice...
"s'cool, yo. I jus' heard I could find a little fun in this neighborhood." He brushes his thumb across his nose. "N'aw mean?"
There's a slight smile, slowly crossing his filthy lips as he sizes the two of you up. The gears turning in his head are damn near squeaking. Finally, he drawls out with a friendly swamp billy tone, "Yeeeeaah. Yeah, you cin come own iyn and haive you a little fuuuun, boah." He turns to his friend, giggles a bit, and continues, "You jis gotta pay fifty nuyen fer the dowr fee an you cin come own iyn." Another eye contact with his friend, another giggle. He never looks at FP as he talks. "Yer trawg gotta wait out here though."
Meanwhile, in the backyard...
The pair are still watching you as you cross the backyard, toward the crappy chainlink fence. Perhaps they imagine you're drunk and will just be on your way. Occasionally, you glance back at them to see that their eyes have never left you. During one such glance, you notice a green bandana and a large pistol, laying on a white plastic dinner table a few feet away from the couple. When they see that you are not leaving the yard, the man gets angry. He zips his pants back up and makes a move toward the gun. Now, he's shouting. "Ah sayad, git the fuuk outta har fore ah fuckin shoot you, faggit!"
-
Marcus doesn't mind the insult, but FP hates it. He approaches the guard who is engaging Viso least and talks quietly to him.
Your dodally wrong chummer. Dis here is man paid me done good an he wan's some shtrong arm pro'ecshun and for ta carry the goods da' he wan's to buy. I fink you cun wave de en'ry fee cause you is gotta chance ta be rich when he leaves. An dun call me trawg, d'ain' nice!
He backs off.
-
Byte, knowing that blowing cover now would be unwise, just decides to back off and dip out of view while he tosses a quick IM. <<@FP, Viso [Byte] Chummer in back tryin' to get blown by some skank. Backin' off, already accessed house. Quick beep and doors open. I'll still toss 'bang.>>
Right before dipping from sight, Byte glances back at the angered cretin. "Keep lid on, yo. No need to get ya-self killed. Byte then simply waits for his signal. Probably should frag 'em when I 'bang the house.
-
"Naw, s'coo, s'coo, yo. Fifty to get in... I can do that," as he says it, he reaches into a pocket and pulls out some scrip. "But respek! My boy coming in. You get a lil', I get a lil', money in pockets and a good time for me when I get back t' my girl, dig?" He counts out fifty and pockets the rest, offering it to the man.
<<@FP, Viso [Byte] Chummer in back tryin' to get blown by some skank. Backin' off, already accessed house. Quick beep and doors open. I'll still toss 'bang.>>
"So, we good, chummer?"
-
Hey Byte, that guy a guard? 3 bogies outside. Expeking 3/4.
Man, you can dake ma gun if'n you wan', but I godda go in, s'what ah'm paid fur
-
Hey Byte, that guy a guard? 3 bogies outside. Expeking 3/4
<<@FP [Byte] Green bandanna 'n' gun. I suppose so. I can shoot at after 'bang if want.>> Though, girl might get uppity. Frag her too? No, no innocents.
-
Still in the backyard...
The man holds the gun menacingly, but doesn't point it at Byte, once he sees the little man is leaving back the way he came. He's even about to turn around, put it away, and get back to "hangin out" so to speak, when...
Right before dipping from sight, Byte glances back at the angered cretin. "Keep lid on, yo. No need to get ya-self killed.
The only thing this little scumbag likes more than sex is violence, and that tiny little semblance of a challenge to his manhood was enough to set him off. "The fuuuk'djoo say, mutherfuucker!?" He comes charging toward the corner you just went around at a fast walk, pointing the gun in your direction as he comes. From around the corner, you hear him cock the pistol. "Ah bet nat say you once ah come roun this corner, faggit!"
Meanwhile, on the front porch...
"Naw, s'coo, s'coo, yo. Fifty to get in... I can do that. But respek! My boy coming in. You get a lil', I get a lil', money in pockets and a good time for me when I get back t' my girl, dig? So, we good, chummer?"
Man, you can dake ma gun if'n you wan', but I godda go in, s'what ah'm paid fur
Still grinning from ear to ear, showing off his disgusting teeth, he looks back to his buddy, who nods his head and closes his eyes briefly. "Awraht, but it's steeyil fit-ty fer heeyim to come iyn. He dun baht ta leave that guun too; and them blades." He motions to an empty flower pot near the front door. "Hay cin jes put em raht thar." FP has noticed that the other guy hasn't taken his eyes off of him for the entire conversation. He also hears some sort of shouting from around the back of the house. Someone is threatening to kick someone's ass or something. If anyone else can hear it, they've decided to to ignore it. That sort of shouting must be a regular occurrence in this neighborhood.
-
"Shit, homey, this is getting' expensive. I heard there's some good shit here, tho' so, fuck... gotta pay t' play." Viso looks back at FP as he reaches in and pulls out another wad of scrip. "You good, yo?"
-
Marcus takes out the gun with 2 fingers, points it at him himself and approaches a guard.
(entering bullet time here:) on the OOC thread.
-
(HA! 'bout to go down already yo. Byte dun take chances at gettin' shot, wiz?)
"Ah bet nat say you once ah come roun this corner, faggit!"
Byte immediately pulls out his pistol with a smirk. 1 frag, +10 points. Alarms raised -5 points. +5 total. Byte decides it becomes worth it to geek the "trog." While still drawing the pistol Byte exclaims "Don't do it." as his one last warning to the trog. Turning around to face the corner the man is coming from, Byte points his Ares Light Fire 75 with the smartlink active at the corner and enters overwatch, ready to shoot the trog the instant he sees him. Around corner, silenced shot... Alarm probability... 25%. (The actual chance is irrelevant, Byte is just calculating based of his own intuition... Which is based off video games...)
-
Acting like a great big dumb galoot, FP hands his gun to the guard and as he takes away his hand, he flicks the clip release and the clip starts to drop. With his other hand he is reaching for the guard's wrist and turns his head to Viso, "Yeah boss, we're gonna in right now."
-
The ugly white boy comes around the corner, all puffed up and full of bravado, ready to put a cap in some junkie pervert, then go smoke some more cram with his girl and get back to business. But the instant he clears the house, he finds that junkie armed with a small pistol and pointing it right at him. -POP!- He lets one shot go from his hand cannon with an "OH SHIT" look on his face before ducking back behind the corner for cover and shouting loud enough for the whole block to hear, "We gittin JACKED, boahs!" Lucky for Byte, the surprise fucked his aim up something horrible, causing the shot to go wide and ping off the side of the house before flying off into the night.
-
FP strikes at the guard next to him (http://orokos.com/roll/290235) with a punch to the throat and, with his left hand on the guards wrist, pulls him down and forwards attempting to put him on the ground.... "Ids a drap boss, they're trying to rob you'm!" he says. The guard's reflexes save him as he blocks the killing blow but is put on his back foot, as anyone would be.
-
Well... that escalated quickly!
Viso quickly draws the Taser. Maybe just one gunshot won't draw much attention in this neighborhood, we might still be able to do this somewhat quietly.
Drawing the weapon, he points it at the other idiot on the porch and pulls the trigger. Four darts arc forward, tethered to the battery pack. The ganger tries to jump away but the darts strike him in the arm anyway, sending 50,000 volts through his body before dropping to a satisfying pulse. The man hits the ground, shaking.
-
Byte sighs loudly to himself before walking up and shooting the Dixie. "Told ya not to do it."
-
A mere moment after Zeke hollers about jackers from out back, the townie whips out a taser and puts Jimbo on the ground. That same second, a big orkish fist comes rocketing toward his face. If it hadn't been for the literally hundreds of hours spend fighting with his brother back in the good ol days, Skeeter would be eating plascrete right now. But, much to his happiness, that he's faster than the ork muscle. He bats the fist aside, and thinks quickly. Jimbo's out, Zeke's shootin at someone... I gotta get inside and warn Destiny! In three quick practiced steps backward, he puts himself behind the doorframe, closing it behind him. He shouts to someone, "DESTINY! JACKERS!"
The sound of the door slamming shakes Badtooth awake again, and he staggers backward, putting a pillar of the house between himself and the two of you. "Skeeter! You MUTHERFUCKER!!"
-
FP, disappointed by his last attack, swiftly approaches Badtooth and attempts a flurry of blows into his torso (http://orokos.com/roll/290732) "Stay down fucker"
-
Shit, shit! thought Viso as one assclown ran inside and closed the door, hollering. He turned to where FP was about to lay into the fellow he had just tasered. The guy twisted and ducked as FP tried to beat on him. Viso sighed and pointed his defiance taser at the man and pulled the trigger again.
The darts hit the poor sap and he twitched and convulsed until he finally lay still, drool creeping from the corner of his lip.
As he holstered the taser, keeping a mental note of the two shots left in the magazine, he looked at the work and jerked his head towards the door.
FP, get the door please?
-
Byte pops off another shot at the Dixie. "Drop the gun, you live." Byte curses himself for missing his shot.
Barely dodging the return shot, Byte just grits his teeth. If only this was like the games...
-
Out front,
The man you've been negotiating with is out for the night. His filthy mouth hangs wide open and a line of drool pours from the side. Inside the house, the both of you can hear hurried footsteps and general commotion as well as a male voice ordering someone. "Tayke this! Tayke this!" The two of you stand, poised against the front door jam, ready to breach the door and make your entrance.
Out back,
The woman on her knees has stood up and run behind a giant wooden spool after seeing her companion get shot by the weedy perv from around the corner. He's still up and fighting for now, but she doesn't plan on sticking around to see how it goes. As soon as she sees an opening, she's gonna bolt. Zeke is more aggressive. His armor jacket took all the punch out of the round that tagged him, so he feels pretty good about things, still. Not only that, but this kid is still talking shit and standing out with no cover. As he dives behind the stairs, the kid is still shooting and talking like he's gonna hit something. Zeke grins as he pops up and rattles off another 3 rounds from his Browning.
One of them catches Byte in the lower left abdomen, near the hip bone and fire runs all down his leg and up his arm all the way to his neck. Quickly, he drags himself back around the corner before Zeke can keep shooting.
-
Takin' a shot to the hip, Byte let's out a strong, "Heh!" A smirk crosses his face, but it's obviously a result of pain and discomfort as it's accompanied by a grimace. (Trust me, goin' somewhere with this via roleplaying.)
Not taking further chances, Byte dips back around the corner. Still a professional, Byte grits his teeth, Fuck, at least I can keep the door unlocked. Byte raises a hand to his AR window, dragging it further into view. With a couple flicks of his fingers he sends the commands for the Safe Door to unlock. "I'm no fighter. Safe door's open."
-
Viso positions himself behind FP as he rattles off a query to Byte over their comms.
"I'm no fighter. Safe door's open."
Viso draws his Ares Predator V and nods as he looks to FP.
Ready when you are.
-
FP hears Viso behind him talking to Byte, then there's shouting on the other side of the door as he psyches himself up to breach the building.
He takes a breath and delivers an Ork shaped kick to the catch side of the door, hoping to pop it open... The door explodes inwards with a bit more force than was totally necessary and FP tosses the flash pack into the house and then grabs the outside of the door jamb.
-
Still behind the fence, Byte pulls out a flashbang. No choice... Tossing it over the fence, Byte moves towards the corner and waits for it to go off. Damn wound... Can barely move...
"Lost sight of enemy" Byte takes a quick glance at his escape route before concentrating back to the task at hand. Game Over eh? Not an option. Peek, fire, retreat. I did my damn job.
-
As soon as FP kicks in the door, he hears the shotgun blast. He can barely make out bandana through the muzzle flash. He's crouched behind the stairs with an older model shotgun. Off to his left at the base of the stairs, stands a terrified junkie holding a large caliber automatic pistol. It's shaking in his hands and his eyes are as wide as dinner plates with utter terror.
With complete ease and fluidity of motion, the large sword wielding ork dives to one side, avoiding the cloud of pellets flying his way at supersonic speeds. He hits the ground and rolls to his feet, charging at his shotgun wielding assailant, blade held high. With a grin, he turns his weapon to face the ork as he comes. It looks to FP like he's going to be a little slow to get to him before he gets another shot off, but Viso, true to his word, has got his back. -POP! POP! POP!- A volley of shots slams into Bandana hard from the side and he winces in pain and hesitates for a moment.
A moment is all FP needs. In a flash, he's on top of his opponent, cutting him and cutting him deep. He's drops his weapon on the way to the floor, bleeding profusely. Even if the ork doesn't finish him off, he might not survive the night. Suddenly, another -POP! POP! POP!- This time, from the kitchen. Both FP and Viso instinctively tense up, but no shots go anywhere near them. When FP turns around, he can see another ganger with long oily brown hair and a synthleather jacket has tripped over the fleeing junkies while trying to fire at you, but has only woundup firing his pistol wildly into the wall and ceiling.
The junkie with the pistol takes one look at the situation, drops the gun, and hauls ass toward the kitchen, hopping over the fallen ganger as he does.
"Plays!? Plays don't keeyil me!?" He screams at the top of his lungs, while crawling backwards away from FP, into what probably used to be a dining room. "Plays!? Ah dowanna dah!"
-
Seeing the new guy trip over the junkies, Viso switches targets and takes aim, pulling the trigger once. He grins as he sees the bullet thump squarely into the man's chest. His pleasure fades quickly as he realizes that it didn't penetrate his jacket.
"Well, shit on me..."
-
Smiling wryly at Viso, "Better take care of this mess..." FP says, charging at the downed Dixie and striking with a orishiki waza at the prone form.
Dixie dodges the worst of the blow and the rest is absorbed by his armour.
-
Rolling out of the way of the ork's sword swipe, the oily haired ganger ends up on his back, facing upward. He empties the rest of his pistol at FP while screaming at the top of his lungs. "Dah! Dah! Dah, yew fuckin trawg!!!"
-
Viso grimaces as 'Dixie' shoots at FP and pulls the trigger three times in rapid succession.
"Shut the hell up!" he yells as the bullets slam into the poor bastard.
-
Seeing the blooded body of the third Dixie to go down, FP backs off, picking up a gun from the floor and looking towards Viso he yells, "We ain't wanna 'urtcha, we jus' wan' da drugs. Ain' no one go'a die"
-
Hearing an angered Harpy screeching from the attic, "Yall best git the fuck outta hyar! Ah got may an Angram up hyar filled with armor pinchin!", FP approaches the stairs, stuffing the long barrel of the Browning into his pants and draws his last fashbang and readies it to throw. "ids your fewn'ral lady, hope you like pineapples"
As he gets to the bend the last thing he sees is the flashing barrel of something... The penultimate thing is hatred... Then he goes down hard. The armour stops the worst of the damage but FP is on the floor and bleeding.
-
Frag!
Viso looks at the wounded gangers. One chance. You throw your pieces over here and sit quietly together and patch up each others boo-boos... or I just cap you in the dome and send you up to the big dope house in the sky. Your call."
He waves his gun haphazardly in their general direction as he speaks.
-
All Byte can hear as he makes his way around the side of the house is the -POP! POP! POP!- of pistol fire, until suddenly, the routine is broken by the -BUDDABUDDABUDDA!- of fully automatic weapon fire. You don't remember either of your companions packing anything like that and you fear for the worst.
Viso sees the whole thing happen and knows what's coming, but his orkish "bodyguard" is just too fast for him to stop it. After taking a massive chunk out of one ganger and keeping another one off balance long enough for you to put a solid round or two through his jacket, FP foolishly charges up the stairs toward the threatening voice. Making good on her threat, she fills the stairway with APDS rounds, quite a few of which punch their way straight through your companion's armor vest and splatter a good amount of his blood all over the wall behind him. The look on his face says he's hurt bad, but still has a lot of fight in him. From upstairs, you hear a heavy door slam and Destiny screams from behind it, "The fukkin cavalry's own thar fuckin way, yew motherfuckers! You best git outta hyar!"
This might be the worst FP has ever been shot. At least the good news is, he's pretty sure there's no lead inside him still. They were all clean, in-and-out shots. But damn, does it hurt.
-
... Fuckin'... Look, shoot, run. It's not my problem! Byte grits his teeth even more as he takes up a position at the corner. He hears a lot of shots, including something... Bigger. Taking a deep breath, Byte peeks around the corner, weapon already scanning for targets... Nothin'..? !! Shit, he went inside!
Byte goes back to simply leaning against the corner. What do I do now? I don't owe these guys shit. I'm a hacker, not some goddamn gun totin' thuggie... But, I am alive... I'm also a professional... And above all... Byte narrows his eyes and grins, trying to put on a front to convince himself the pain doesn't hurt. I'm a perfectionist who doesn't lose!
Byte flips his comms, <<Status?>>
-
Grunting hard at the bullet holes in him, Marcus works his way to the top step and lays his sword down. "fuckfuckfuck Got any bandages?" his says - to the world in general.
-
Viso calls over to Byte on his comms.
Byte, can you get over here and cover these two assholes while I check on FP and get what we came for?
He leans back with his gun at the ready, his expression promising a quick death if these two guys do anything he doesn't like.
-
Byte, can you get over here and cover these two assholes while I check on FP and get what we came for?
<<Roger>> At least they're decent combatants... Byte just mans up and moves through the pain and goes in the back door the junkies have fled out of.
-
Viso moves into the house towards FP, keeping the mooks covered when he sees Byte coming through the back door. He tosses him a nod and glances down at the ork. Seeing that he's probably not going to die right away, he moves up the stairwell to the closed door, but not directly in front of it. Would hate to eat a hail of bullets through the cheap material. Shit, dry wall on the side ain't much thicker, but...well, shit....
"Listen, hun," he yells out. "House is surrounded an' I got me a frag that looks like it might have your name on it. Boss ain't said we gotta kill no one, but he didn't say leave survivors. So, you wanna be a corpse or you want to live t' party tomorrow? Your choice, I'm gonna give you to the count of 3."
-
FP shouts down to Byte "Little brother, you need to brick up this muther's gun an' quick", reaches up above his head and opens the door