From our brand new campaign, in which my GM foolishly asked me to be a player:
Mr. Johnson to the team, gesturing to the bar: "Help yourself to a drink."
Bad Wolf, Hobgoblin Street Merc: *Pulls out his Smart Canteen and starts filling it from the most expensive bottle of Scotch he can find*
Jameson, Ork Street Sam, hopping in the team's van on our first run, together. Our Hacker, a young Japanese fellow, is already on board. Our Rigger is an AI, who is actually driving.
GM: "There's a little skinny Asian guy, sitting in the driver's seat. As the van pulls away from the curb, you notice that his hands aren't on the wheel."
Jameson: "Where
are his ha...oh, GOD, pull over!"
Bad Wolf to Jameson, after Jameson made a snide remark. (Yes. To the Hobgoblin.
)
Following comment was made
after passing Composure check:
Bad Wolf: "Listen, tusk-boy, if you wanna work with me, I got just
three rules you need to remember"
Jameson: "Oh, do tell."
Bad Wolf: *Holds up three fingers* "Finish the job."
Bad Wolf: *Holding up two fingers* "Protect your team."
Bad Wolf: *Holding up middle finger* "
DON'T. %$#@. WITH BAD WOLF."
(Throwing one in from our old D&D game.)
Our current SR4 GM and Jameson's player are both rogues, leading a band of soldiers on a raid of the Bad Guy's castle. They inadvertently set off one of the most evil traps in the fortress - both PCs survive by diving through a secret passage, but the entire unit they are leading in gets dowsed with Greek Fire and dies a horrible, horrible death. The mercenary company commander arrives on the scene - it's total carnage, a hundred burnt, smoking bodies - and demands "What
happened?!"
"Jameson" looks him straight in the eye, and totally deadpan says...
"We
think there may have been a trap."
-Jn-
Ifriti Sophist
