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Cold Day in a Hot Place - Consciousness Stream Writing

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JustADude

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« on: <01-29-12/0150:14> »
**This piece is a personal challenge to myself: One writing session with no pre-planning and no retraction of events once they've been written (although I am allowing myself minor rephrasing) other than fixing typos, grammatical mistakes, and other such error correction.**

The team had just finished a job; a typical corporate raid to steal some hot research data for the competition. Nothing they hadn't done before, and for once it went off without a single hitch. Apparently, though Lady Luck had been saving the screw-job for the last minute, because the Johnson decided to get cute. First he moved the meet, then he showed up late, escorted by a squad of armed guards... though the last wasn't too out of place, given that the meeting spot is in the Barrens.

"What is this, some kind of joke?" asked Frost, checking the balance on the Credstick he'd just been handed. The white-haired, silver-eyed Dryad frowned as he set the Stick down and slid it back across the table, snapping "This isn't even a third of what you owe us!" as he gave the Johnson a hard glare. To either side of him  team team, a mountain of a chromed-out Troll stuffed in an expensive suit by the name of Mr. Soft and an Ogre Adept called Twitch wearing a holosuit currently set to mimic racing leathers, stirred as well, reaching for hidden weapons as they braced themselves for trouble.

The Johnson, a heavy-set, middle aged human with graying hair, leaned back in his seat, answering "The deal's changed; it'll be a cold day in hell when I give that much money to a bunch of scum like you. You take what's there, or my boys frag the lot of you and we walk out with the data and the Nuyen," as he spread his arms in a what-can-you-do gesture.

His own muscle, openly armed and armored and screaming CorpSec even without their insignias in place, brought their wicked looking assault rifles to bear on the trio of Runners. The rest of the bar-goers had been watching the group of goons warily since they walked in, and now the patrons began to scramble out of the line of fire, sensing that the drek was about to hit the fan.

Mr. Johnson reached out for the chip with the paydata just as Frost snatched it off the table, growling "Look, buddy, my crew and I did our jobs and we did them well, so now we get paid. No 'the deal's changed' or 'one more thing'. You pay up, or you and your toy soldiers are the ones that are going to get fragged. Hell, maybe we'll just beat you unconscious and sell you and the data back to Krupp. Bet they'll be willing to match what you promised us plus what we'd get for selling your carcasses to the organleggers. What do you think?"

The Johnson laughed, taunting "Really? You're going to talk like that with guns pointed at your faces? You must be crazy!" even as Twitch and Mr. Soft visibly relaxed, looking at each other and smirking before reaching for their drinks. Mr. Soft gestured behind the Johnson as he chuckled "Buddy, you might want to look again. Those guns ain't pointed at us," in a deep bass rumble.

The Johnson glanced behind him and then froze for several second, staring at his squad of soldiers who now all wore expressions like the blank masks of puppets and had their guns pointed at the right at his center-of-mass, before snapping aback around and demanding "What the hell is going on here?"

Frost laughed, leaning back and mimicking the man's earlier what-can-you-do shrug as he answered "You're an idiot is what's going on. You actually expected us to bring the whole team to the table! Lars has your boys minds wrapped around his little finger... and Toni has already fried your panic-button program, so you might as well stop trying to trigger it," in a tone bordering on gloating.

The Dryad's expression was one of almost sadistic pleasure as he watched the Johnson sweat, drawing the moment out before gesturing to the Credstick still on the table and asking "So, is the Devil going to need a sweater, or are you going to be keeping him company?"
« Last Edit: <01-29-12/0157:56> by JustADude »
“What is right is not always popular and what is popular is not always right.”
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"Being average just means that half of everyone you meet is better than you."
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Deepeyes

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« Reply #1 on: <01-29-12/1205:33> »
Nice read! Don't you hate it when the Jonhson gets fancy... Good job!

Red Canti

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« Reply #2 on: <01-30-12/2032:46> »
Nice read! Don't you hate it when the Jonhson gets fancy... Good job!
I dunno about you, but I fucking love it.

Mostly because it's a trigger for some sweet, violent, disturbing catharsis. And really, what's an RPG without some opportunity for that? Hmm, Stream of Consciousness..not exactly Ulysses, but still a damn good story.
"Always Trust Mr. Johnson, always. Just make sure he knows he'd regret betraying that trust."

beowulf_of_wa

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« Reply #3 on: <01-30-12/2044:24> »
more?
Carpe Noctem (seize the night)
Carpe per Diem (seize the pay), Carpe Dentum (seize the teeth), Carpe Denim (seize the pants)
Carpe Panem (seize the bread/capital)

no, i won't "just get over it."

NERPS!! for idiocy! NERPS!! for the minty fresh feeling! NERPS!! for gods! NERPS!! for guard duty!

JustADude

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« Reply #4 on: <01-30-12/2049:08> »
I dunno about you, but I fucking love it.

Mostly because it's a trigger for some sweet, violent, disturbing catharsis. And really, what's an RPG without some opportunity for that? Hmm, Stream of Consciousness..not exactly Ulysses, but still a damn good story.


If I could write Ulysses from scratch in one sitting, I'd be a lot better off in this world than I am today. ;D

more?

Eventually. Now that I've actually got the characters in my head, I'm gonna let them kick around and see what pops out. I might even let you guys in on Toni's big secret. ;)
“What is right is not always popular and what is popular is not always right.”
― Albert Einstein

"Being average just means that half of everyone you meet is better than you."
― Me

Deepeyes

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« Reply #5 on: <02-01-12/1125:27> »
Can't wait!! :D