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[5e IC] Circus Tricks [2075 Game Thread]

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8-bit

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« Reply #210 on: <11-28-14/1216:30> »
Ghost keeps moving towards the now-crumpled RV. There are a whole bunch of messages and AROs, and even a fragging chopper is mentioned. Ghost waves that all away; he has to deal with these bastards first. Very soon, he sees the clowns pull into view. There is no sign of the children. If you're still alive, help is coming; if you're dead, your deaths will be avenged.

Ghost pauses to unsling his Desert Strike. Taking aim through his scope, he looks at the nearest clown. Pray to whatever gods you worship. You'll need it. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Ghost pulls the trigger.
« Last Edit: <11-28-14/1244:19> by 8-bit »

Aria

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« Reply #211 on: <12-01-14/1235:18> »
[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Al (car 1: huddled under a dying clown):

Frag, you can feel bodily fluids leaking on to you…still better his than yours, and much better than the feel of high velocity lead!  Peeking out you can just about see the wash of the LAVs thrusters but the anticipated fusillade doesn’t come…before you can congratulate yourself on your unexpected survival your hear a roar of fire from above you…

@Luz (on top of car 5):

Fragger must be flying with the Mark 1 eyeball otherwise he’d never have a view port open…there’s still armour glass between you and your shot but despite it being a long shot you can feel your luck is with you…the round streaks away and despite the wind, rain and airborne crap it impacts squarely on the armourplex…you can’t see whether it penetrated because the LAV veers wildly but the response comes moments later as bright tracer fire screams along the top of the train at about waist height…rather than let the train crash into the LAV it swings round to the side of the road, the jet wash bending the already feeble pines down towards the ground…   

@Ghost, Cutter (by the RV)

Doing your best to ignore the sounds of battle beyond you focus on the clowns still threatening the kids.  Rifle and pistol rounds are barely audible above the atmospheric noise and the minigun fire in the distance but they are no less effective for that, slamming home and plunging both victims out of sight…just in time for the last rather bemused looking clown to be mangled by a pissed off spirit…
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All4BigGuns

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« Reply #212 on: <12-01-14/1539:30> »
Seeing the clowns go down, Cutter transmits over comms <<Whoever is controlling that spirit want to see if it can get me up into that enemy T-bird?>>
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Aria

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« Reply #213 on: <12-02-14/1740:30> »
[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Morgan

<<@Convoy [l'Ombre Zep]: Deck has been spiked, we've lost Itch...for frag's sake go wifi dark or at least silent if you aren't already, let's not make it any easier for these bastards...>>
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saithor

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« Reply #214 on: <12-02-14/1905:50> »
<To:All // We have inbounds from the East. Are the kids okay?>
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Csjarrat

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« Reply #215 on: <12-03-14/1105:50> »
//LAV has gone dark anyway. I'm going down for a reboot, back shortly.//
Morgan put the system down for a reboot, feeling the snap of reality his nervous system as he emerged from VR back into his meat shell.
This was starting to look really really bad and he questioned his sanity for sticking around. What the fuck had gotten these guys so hacked off with a circus of all things that a minigun armed LAV was now strafing the convoy?
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Lusis

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« Reply #216 on: <12-03-14/1717:52> »
Pieces of circus equipment exploded around Luz as she dived for cover. Apparently I need a bigger gun next time.

>>Take that cabrón down!<<
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« Reply #217 on: <12-08-14/0843:49> »
[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Al (car one)

With the LAV taking pot shots overhead towards Luz you risk peeking up from beneath your living, well barely, shield to peer through the crazed windshield just in time for the world to get turned upside down in a welter of fire and sound.  The cabin lurches to your right and with a grinding noise just about audible above the ringing in your ears the train car pitches sideways as if something has just taken out the balloon tyres on that side...

@Luz (car five)

As you duck under the fusillade of tracers you see the heat signature flash of something projected out of the gloom from way beyond the treeline at the side of the road...with appalling accuracy you see the grenade air burst along the side of car one, the whickering flashing shrapnel ripping the balloon tyres to shreds.  The whole train shudders as the lead car pitches to one side and grinds into the ash...
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adamu

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« Reply #218 on: <12-08-14/2001:22> »
[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

"Ever…lovin'…pig…huggin'…gator…kissin'…son…of…a…BITCH!"

Rolling a big rig, the only question - the one you staked your life on - was would she roll ninety degrees or one-eighty? The first, you rely on your belt, the other, you go to the floor and wait for the weight of the undercarriage to flatten the cab like a spent beer can. Well, he was on the floor now, which would have been handy if he wasn't pretty sure she'd go ninety, and he sure as hell didn't have time to haul Frank or Tyrone out of their seatbelts. So he thrust his left arm up and forced it between Tyrone's gut and his belt - there was plenty of blood on both of them to ease the passage.

Big rides roll slow, especially at under thirty, but don't tell that to any poor bastard inside of one when it goes over. Next thing Al knew, the clown was thrown down against the right passenger window - already spiderwebbed from stray buckshot, he went through an instant before impact and his head was crushed under the door frame.

Watching he whole thing as if in slow motion as he hung suspended from Tyrone's carcass, Al hoped the masked low-life had woken up in time to see it coming. Doubtful, but the sound, at least, had been satisfying. A dense cloud of ash had billowed up through the tight space from the broken window, and he couldn't see a damned thing. Once the skid had stopped, he waited a tick for the secondary impact of the second car rear-ending him. He congratulated himself on not passing out. Then he turned his attention to extracting himself from a tiny space crammed full of three mangled corpses, himself, and a giant but somehow unhurt fat lady, all of whom he could feel and smell, if not see. His arm felt like it had been ripped from its socket, and in fact it had. With his right hand he pulled his knife, and the serrated edge made short work of the nylon restraint. His boots landed lightly on the clown, ahd he popped his humerus back into the shoulder joint pretty as you please. He'd heard that for most people that hurt.

By his reckoning, at this point all he had was the thin roof of the cab between him and whoever had the firepower to blow out a 3200-gallon hardened rubber tire. He needed to move, and he needed to do it before the dust cloud settled. Grabbing his weapons but leaving his tools (bastards would pay), he kicked out what was left of the windshield and high-tailed his way around to the west side of the rig.




saithor

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« Reply #219 on: <12-08-14/2109:49> »
Alicia reached out to Zaniayh to give him instructions. Investigate the group of lifeforms approaching from the East. If they attack the train or any of it's occupants, or the children, kill them. And then the world went mad as the train shuddered to a stop. 

>>To:All
>>What the heck just happened?
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Csjarrat

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« Reply #220 on: <12-09-14/1515:02> »
Knowing he was probably being actively hunted for his assault on the Rigger, Morgan logged into the host with his newly rebooted deck and gave the command to launch IC.
If their decker wants to play, he can play on my soil with my friends
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All4BigGuns

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« Reply #221 on: <12-09-14/2045:38> »
Seeing--and more vividly, hearing--the lead car of the convoy tilt over onto its side, Cutter lets out a curse, "What the frag is going on now?" With that, he steels himself and gets down low as he moves toward the toppled car, trying to stay as stealthy as he can.
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« Reply #222 on: <12-10-14/1632:30> »
Spector is dumb founded by the onslaught that is taking pace around him. He just wanted to make some nuyen and geek a few flesh eaters, it seems this is on crazy train he decided to help out.

With a massive LAV raining lead from up on high Spector does his best to approach the three ghouls he had dropped with his flying blades of death. Chika was doing her best to stay close to Spector. Spector looks around as he reclaims his three shurikens hoping he might not have a bunch of lead rain down on him.
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adamu

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« Reply #223 on: <12-11-14/1905:23> »
[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Hunting rifle in hand, Al was trotting along the west side of the halted train, making the best time he could with ash sludge trying to suck his Docs off his feet with every step. At least the driving rain was washing a little of the blood off his head and face. There had been a lot of comm chatter in his ear over the past few minutes, and he was playing it back in his ear as he moved - without dead spaces it only took a few seconds.

No one had answered the Reeves lady’s question about the kids, but he’d heard Cutter ask for a lift up to the hostile bird, so he figured what was done was done, and he was glad the biker daredevil was alive. If the kids were too, hell, he’d buy the feller drinks for a month.

Now, without a train to drive or kids to fret about, it was real crystal what came next. <<All right everyone, it’s abundantly clear these jokers is after someone called the Seer, whoever that is. Everyone that can, converge on her.>>

Unfortunately, he couldn’t follow his own advice since he wasn’t clear where she was - and if their comms were compromised, he didn’t want to ask on the air. Glancing around to see if the fat lady was still dogging him, he climbed up into the first car and asked the first coherent person he could find where he could go to get his fortune told.

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« Reply #224 on: <12-24-14/1743:14> »
[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

@Morgan:

Once again entering the teepee-looking host, you are once again on the side of a green mountain. The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle are just as before, but now there are no personas readily visible. The sinuous eastern dragons that had been been winding their way across the sky on your last visit are now perched atop the fantastic structure at the mountain’s peak. One is nursing an injured foreleg. The aerial creatures that had been swarming around them are now in total disarray - some stopped mid-air and flickering, others flying far off into the distance, others clinging to the scales of the dragons.

Here to take advantage of the hosts defenses, you make for the protection of the castle. The front gates are wide open, but the moment you cross the threshold, you spot two personae waiting in ambush. The one with the better resolution quickly raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture, and you recognize him as one of the deckers attached to the convoy. The other persona, a huge mastiff, is clearly his IC backup.

“Asshole came in, made a real mess, took out my partner. Then he faded. I’ve overwritten every entrance but this one, and the zep’s offline. We’re ready for his next play, no sign of him for a while now.”

@Luz:

For a long few seconds, the damned minigun had chased Luz from one refuge to the next, tearing through anything she took cover behind. And with each dash, the gunner was clearly doing a better job of compensating for her amazing sprint speed.

Now, however, she’d found a spot atop the third car between what appeared to be two huge bundles of canvas, each the size of a light truck. Circus tents? Whatever, the gun couldn’t touch her here.

After a moment, the firing stopped. After what had felt like forever with her ears bombarded by wind and rain, the tortured whine of the convoy’s overtaxed engines, gunfire and screams all around, and the roar of the minigun on her heels, it was suddenly almost serene. The convoys were stopped, the outriders scattering, the small arms fire had died down. All she could hear was the voice of that annoying little man in her commlink telling her to protect the Seer, plus the oh-so-near thrusters of the LAV - clearly sound-baffled for smuggling - hovering just out of her reach.

And every few seconds, the bastard fired a burst into her canvas shelter, just to warn her not to show her head.