Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
Penelope is, as always, working on her ride. She hears a beeping from inside the vehicle. Curious she peeks in, and sees the screen on the dash has turned on. Penelope sees a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon. Opening the message, the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses. “Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 1900. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. See you there!”
Neimand
Spoiler
Isidor is browsing through a talismanmonger's wares. Most of the grimy looking troll's wares clearly "fell of the back of a truck". None of it is very impressive, and certainly not for the price the troll is demanding. What better could be expected in this area though, barely one step up from the barrens?
A chirp comes from Isidor's commlink. Checking it, he sees a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon. Opening the message, the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses. “Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 1900. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. See you there!”
Saito
Spoiler
Saito is enjoying a day out on the beach. The waves crashing on the shore remind him of his childhood home. The screaming seagulls picking over trash and the foul scent of dead fish...not so much. His commlink, laying nearby, begins to beep. Going to check it, Saito sees a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon. Opening the message, the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses. “Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 1900. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. See you there!”
Nathan
Spoiler
Nathan is peacefully sleeping off a night of drinking on his couch. The faded brown cushions have welcomed him many a night, only avoiding stains through the color and patented chemicals that are probably carcinogenic. sees a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon. Opening the message (just about the only thing this commlink can do, given that it has no operating system), the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses. “Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 1900. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. See you there!”
Hiro
Spoiler
Hiro is running himself through a workout. It didn't do much good these days, especially for the arms, but omae, when he got like this, he just had to GO, you know what I'm saying? That last combat biking match, that was just the best of this year, easily. ZOOOOM! CRASH! BANG! Whatever those things Tiny gave him were, they made it even better. Hiro slows down when he hears his commlink blinking and he sees a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon flashing in his field of vision. Opening the message, the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses. “Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 1900. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. See you there!”
9
Spoiler
It is a slow news day. No big nodes got hacked, nobody made any startling discoveries, nothing. Suddenly a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon, appears in 9's message field. Opening the message, the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses. “Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 1900. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. See you there!” An attachment opens up afterwards. "Oh, and special instructions for you, my incorporeal chummer! Just enter this node, don't worry, it's all safe and sanitized, and use the password. I'd like it if you'd use the AR system available. I'm still a bit uncomfortable dealing with folks I can't see." A complex pass-program makes itself available to 9.
"The first message was clearly impersonal, mass sent. The attachment though, why make a fuss about the node's condition? This programme is complex, the key to a very strange lock, protection from hackers, but are there ulterior motives? Bah, you're over thinking this 9."
Still somewhat wary, 9 sent a message to 2, asking him to check up on him at 10pm. 9 then loads a Nuke programme onto himself, then goes to the Sukie news cluster.
He took a deep breath and sat up, rubbing his temples lightly at the hint of a headache. Tiny had said something about that...he kicked his legs over one side of the weight bench and played the message through one more time, a faint smiling crossing his face as he stood and crossed the room. He reached for one of the small orange bottles on the dresser, and rattled it, nodding to himself. He shoved the bottle in the pocket of his leather jacket as he walked to his closet, flipping through his meager selection of clothes, for something that wasn't too ratty...gotta look a little decent if I'm meeting people for work, gotta rep to uphold...or at least, create he thought to himself.
The infernal beeping and blinking again. After a slight jump which left his heart racing, Nathan sighed, listening to his comlink demand his attention. He fumbled for it, not bothering to sit up, flicking and tapping his awkward, hungover way to the message. Well... I am NOT looking forward to showing up there with my head like this. Still, work. He stretched, checking the time. Maybe just enough time to whip something together to chase off this headache before he showed up to a concert and immediately keeled over.
Should probably put on a shirt first though. Shirt, then hangover, then Underground 99.
Some carefully mixed juice later, and a shirt entirely on his body, he slid his Predator into a jacket holster and headed out. Fate favors the prepared... or the bold. Whoever.
Neimand frowned at the trinket in his small hand, not because of its poor quality (poor though it was…) but the communication he received. Sure he needed the work but going in blind seemed… foolish. I know I haven’t been doing this long but c’mon…throw me a bone.
“This is a store… not a peep show. Buy somethin or leave…” growled the troll in Neimand’s direction. “Right you are…” he replied, replacing the item back on the shelf and heading for the door. Outside he called one of the few people he knew in this city. ‘Lyle’ had helped Neimand get into Seattle sans… legal entanglements.
Lyle… It’s Neimand. Listen, I need a bit of info on a Johnson calling himself ‘MacCallister’. He’s invited me for drinks tonight at Underworld 93 and I’d rather not go in blind…
1700
Neimand stood, naked, in the center of his living room; if one foot in the kitchen and one foot in the bedroom could be called that, concentrating. Unseen energies swirled around his small frame, soaking into his skin and pouring into his mouth and nose. For a moment nothing happened, then a tingling feeling, beginning at the small of his back, spreads out across his back and down his extremities. A surge of discomfort and the small frame grows, skin drawn taught til it might tear suddenly turns plastic and stretches evenly. It only takes a moment and where once stood a one meter gnome, now stood an average height human that vaguely resembled the former. Neimand sat heavily onto the rickety chair to catch his breath. Dressing in a set of street clothes, Neimand packs his gnomish clothes in a satchel and runs a comb through his hair. such ugly creatures… humans… it’s a wonder the females have anything to do with them. Though, they aren’t much better. Beggars can’t be choosers… he muses before leaving his apartment.
1800
Neimand steps off the tram and walks down the strip to the beat up old warehouse that was Underworld 93. For all its ‘drab-chic’ exterior, this place was a gold mine. Anybody who was anybody played here… Mercurial, Jetblack, CrimeTime… all the greats. Maybe one day they’ll say ‘That’s where nobody started…’ Walking confidently to the front of the line, Neimand quickly shoots a message to the bouncer’s PAN
I’m here for McCallister… and offers 20 nuyen for his troubles… If I can make it look good… why not?
The kannushi replays the message on the pad, committing the man's face to memory. He's torn between relief at more paid work- money has started to become tight- and irritation at having his tranquility disrupted. He looks back up at the dirty, polluted beach, and then sighs, rising and returning to the house.
Preparing for a meeting is a small ritual of his, wherein he carefully and meticulously grooms himself, and slowly dons a immaculate and neatly folded business suit. He stares at himself in the mirror of his bathroom. You look tired. he thinks to himself. Well. Perhaps it is only a passing wave of melancholy. Slothful despair is a sign of poor character. Maybe he only needs paying work to spur him into industriousness.
He meticulously researches the route to the club- though he's sure of it anyway- on his comm, and then begins the long trek to the transit station at the very end of the line. Just before he rises over the small crest that will bring him to the very edge of civilization, he carefully removes his shoes, kneels down in the stands, and prays briefly, incanting a magic ritual, beseeching his ancestor to watch over him. The kami spirit materializes beside him, a small, rippling haze against the lapping, polluted sea. He quietly gives it some instructions, and then rises, replacing his shoes, dusting himself off, and moving towards the transit station.
He stands apart from a small group of ork youths as they chatter excitedly and busy themselves with vandalizing a metro shelter with some graffiti filth, studiously ignoring them. They ignore him too, vaguely sensing it's the best policy. He steps onto the metro train when it arrives, and heads into the city proper.
Spoiler
Summoning Watcher Spirit; successful, two hour lifespan. Instructing it to case the joint astrally and report back to me what's there before I arrive. When I do arrived, it will be ordered to patrol and act as an astral alarm and alert me to any new astral presences that enter the area.
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Candle Jack
This image you have of European peasants huddled fearfully in decrepit hovels while packs of baby-eating wolves terrorize the countryside has no basis in reality.
1715
Tapping his foot and staring up at the clip he was watching, seemingly projected on the ceiling, Hiro checked the clock for the hundreth time. He knew he'd be early, but it would give him a chance to grab a drink and have a look around. He popped up off the ratty couch, and grabbed the shoulder holster rig off the back of the chair, checking the clips. One stick-n-shock and one explosive...just in case. He threw the holster on and secured it, tightly. He pulled the Predator loose, cocked it and engaged the safety. Wouldn't want to put one through his arm again. He grimmaced at the thought, and pulled on his armored coat, feeling in the pocket for the little orange bottle. As he reached for the door, he pulled his hand back and snapped. Nearly kicking himself. He couldn't go into this party all level headed, he needed an edge. The bottle was just a backup. He walked back to the dresser and popped a couple of novacoke tabs out of the little plastic blister pack, he had no idea who Tiny got this fancy drek from, but it was amusing none the less. Like taking a freaking gas pill. He threw the tabs into his mouth and dry swallowed them.
1805
The Contrail racer stops dead just up the street from Underworld 93, in a flourish of growling engine and squeeling tires, complete with a plum of burning rubber smoke. He grins and pretends to ignore the glances he gets from the line around the block. Kickstand down, he turns the bike off, and engages the security system, hopping off and heading straight for the entrance, past the sorry sacks waiting to get in. He shoots the doorman's PAN a message, simply stating, McCallister's expecting me, and breezes right past him through the double doors, grinning again at the girl he catches craining her neck to catch a glimpse of the unknown VIP that just came in. This is gonna be fun...
Spoiler
Current health: 12/12
Commlink Status: Public, broadcasting SIN: "Hiro Musahi-Kroner"
Armor: 10/8
Status Effects: Novacoke (+1 Reaction, Perception, Charisma, High Pain Tolerance 1; 5 hours)
After getting his media fix, 9 returns to his home node, and decides to alter his Icon. He decides to go with a formal bussiness suit, shifting his tattoos to under his new attire.
1800
After loading the pass programme, 9 goes to the node set up for him, using the programme to enter.
Pit-Stop slides her truck into a side-street near U93, she cant afford to pay for parking and she prefers her ride out of sight if possible. On edge she checks the empty cigarette packet again.
Still empty, it aint gonna magically fill its-self love...
She puts it back in her pocket with the lighter.
She opens her trunk and finds her armour, black heavy combat armour, not really nightclub attire.
Oil'd overalls or heavy armor... I aint gettin this job... Not to mention the mask... Might as-well at-least be prepared if they aint gonna be happy either way eigh...
1820
Suited and booted in her Combat armour with her weapons in their holsters and mask on the back of her head she steps out of the Truck locking it behind her.
UNDERWORLD 93 presents
for one night only, a special show! MARIA MERCURIAL
Everyone, especially those who haven't entered the club yet
From the outside, Underworld is just a boring, ferrocrete building. The only distinguishing features are a steel sign with the name of the club and AR display of the famous logo: Charon on a speedboat. The other ARO is even more-eye catching though, and explains the around-the-block line of people. Maria Mercurial is putting on an unannounced show. The only thing keeping the horde out are two muscle-bound troll bouncers, who are checking against an actual paper list to see who gets in and who has to wait and hope for space.
Neimand
Spoiler
Lyle replies with "Mcallister, lemme see...yeah, I remember. Old school runner, used to be big back in the 50s. He was what they called a decker. Now he mostly works as a fixer or doing small jobs for people he knew back in the day. Not a bad guy as far as I know."
As Neimand walks past the troll bouncers, he enters into a lobby, filled with people gawking at the memorabilia or giving interviews or the press. The more interesting thing are the two men manning a MAD scanner, both of whom have accentuated their appearance to be one of obvious danger. A large sign, both physical and ARO declares "All guest must check in any weapons, milspec hardware, livestock, and produce. NO EXCEPTIONS." Next to the MAD scanner is a check-in box, where another dangerous looking man is handing out physical tokens for the items being checked in.
A handsome elf man greets you. "Thanks for coming. We've got a reserved booth for you. We're just waiting until everyone gets here. If you would take a seat, I'm sure the others will be a just a moment." He ushers you to a long red leather couch. Seems Neimand is the first to arrive.
Hiro
Spoiler
As Hiro walks past the troll bouncers, he enters into a lobby, filled with people gawking at the memorabilia or giving interviews for the press. The more interesting thing are the two men manning a MAD scanner, both of whom have accentuated their appearance to be one of obvious danger. A large sign, both physical and ARO declares "All guest must check in any weapons, milspec hardware, livestock, and produce. NO EXCEPTIONS." Next to the MAD scanner is a check-in box, where another dangerous looking man is handing out physical tokens for the items being checked in.
A handsome elf man greets you. "Thanks for coming. We've got a reserved booth for you. We're just waiting until everyone gets here. If you would take a seat, I'm sure the others will be a just a moment." He gestures to a long red leather couch where a human male is already seated.
9
Spoiler
As 9 enters the node, no obvious danger is spotted. After a few seconds, the same ork from the message pops up. "Hoi chummer, good to see you. You're a bit early, but I guess caution and getting there before the other guy are the way to do things still, huh? Anyways, relax for a bit, mabe enjoy the club some. At 1900, it'd be nice if you could AR yourself into a seat at this booth [a few taps on the antique cyberdeck strapped to his arm, and the booth's location manifests itself]. You can meet the others there.
Saito
Spoiler
The spirit reports that there is a large crowd at the club, and that it well-defended on both the astral and physical planes.
Acknowledging the Ork, 9 looked around the node. "I wanted to see if there were any errors or malfunctions that needed sorting out, wouldn't want to get stuck here, after all. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to test the node's security, do a little hacking if you don't mind."
Neimand strolls past the MAD scanner with little thought. Looking at 'tall-folk' from this angle was odd. Neimand nods to the elf and takes a seat at the end of the couch. Neimand shift his vision and inspects his surroundings. He pays close attention to those who are escorted to the couch...
Hiro nods, and shoots the elf his most disarming smile, "Get a lot of livestock through here?" he asks with a gesture to the sign. Without waiting for an answer he asks another, "Any chance of a drink while I wait?"
Spoiler
Current health: 12/12
Commlink Status: Public, broadcasting SIN: "Hiro Musahi-Kroner"
Armor: 10/8
Status Effects: Novacoke (+1 Reaction, Perception, Charisma, High Pain Tolerance 1; 5 hours)
Pit-Stop arrives at the club, the huge que bustling with excited people is the first thing she spots.
Wait, I hope I ain't expected to wait in that...
Walking upto the bouncers on the door she attempts to get their attention raising her voice above the people around her.
I was asked here by... Mac Orc Something... something about a job, can a get in like?
She looks between the bouncer closest to her and another also manning the door.
Don't suppose either of you have any cigs either do yas?
Spoiler
Current health: 10/10
Commlink Status: Passive, in her car.
Armor: 10/12
Status Effects: Itching for a Cigarette
Saito nods vaguely at the report. To be expected of a large concert, he supposes. He proceeds to spend the rest of the journey researching the works of this female artist on his commlink, rolling his eyes at her provocative top- how does she expect anyone to take her seriously as a professional, when she dresses in such a manner? He doesn't think knowing anything about her will matter much, and he has no anticipation of enjoying the music. The youth of today have the attention span of hummingbirds. Their musical idols come and go, and rarely leave any works of merit in their wake.
Nevertheless, it is important to be thorough. He listens to a selection of the woman's music on his commlink, and downloads a video of her most recent concert to one lens of his red mirror glasses, to play while he sits, serenely.
He enters the club as close to 19.00 as possible, nodding to the doorman. "Good evening. I am here to meet MacCallister." he says. His English is careful and precise. He speaks quietly, but clearly.
Spoiler
Current health: 11/11 phys, 12/12 stun
Commlink Status: Public, broadcasting "Shadowrunner" SIN (Jun Saito, freelance mage)
Armor: 5/3
Status Effects: Watcher spirit summoned, ~two hours remaining.
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Candle Jack
This image you have of European peasants huddled fearfully in decrepit hovels while packs of baby-eating wolves terrorize the countryside has no basis in reality.
Arriving at the club, he sighed, seeing the huge line, even knowing this new Johnson's name should get him VIP'd right in. Luckily he'd kicked his hangover an hour before, but that didn't mean some new headache might burst into town. Approaching the bouncers, he found himself waved in as he expected once he mentioned "I'm here to meet McAllister." The rest was basically what he expected once he saw the front, including the accursed MAD scanners.
Fortune favors the careful.
Carefully slipping out the magazine (fortune favors...), something he doubted they would begrudge him, he checked in his Predator and took his chit before pressing further into the club, his eyes scanning over the crowd in a practiced, almost unconscious canvassing of the place before he found the couch as Hiro was requesting a drink. "Make it two of whatever he orders."
Spoiler
Current health: 10/10
Commlink Status: Public, broadcasting SIN: "Nathan Cowden"
Armor: 6/4
Status Effects:
The ork snorts. "No way, omae. I'm handling the security for this personally. I don't need you poking around and distracting me while I'm trying to my job. Besides, it isn't polite to question the quality of your employers work, so ka?"
Penelope
Spoiler
The troll bouncers just look at the grease monkey. One of them speaks up "Nah, against company policy to smoke while we're on duty. Bad for the image. Go on in, the guy's name is MacCallister. You might want to remember that." As Penelope walks past the troll bouncers, he enters into a lobby, filled with people gawking at the memorabilia or giving interviews or the press. The more interesting thing are the two men manning a MAD scanner, both of whom have accentuated their appearance to be one of obvious danger. A large sign, both physical and ARO declares "All guest must check in any weapons, milspec hardware, livestock, and produce. NO EXCEPTIONS." Next to the MAD scanner is a check-in box, where another dangerous looking man is handing out physical tokens for the items being checked in. There is group of people who look like they don't belong already sitting on a long couch, a few of them sipping drinks.
Saito
Spoiler
As Saito walks past the troll bouncers, he enters into a lobby, filled with people gawking at the memorabilia or giving interviews or the press. The more interesting thing are the two men manning a MAD scanner, both of whom have accentuated their appearance to be one of obvious danger. A large sign, both physical and ARO declares "All guest must check in any weapons, milspec hardware, livestock, and produce. NO EXCEPTIONS." Next to the MAD scanner is a check-in box, where another dangerous looking man is handing out physical tokens for the items being checked in. There is group of people who look like they don't belong already sitting on a long couch, a few of them sipping drinks.
Group now in the lobby
Hiro and Nathan receive their drinks. The bartender is apparently quite good, as the tasty concoction (it looks like mercury, in honor of tonight's guest) goes down smooth but but immediately sends a warm burst through the body. As soon as Penelope and Saito arrive, the male elf, immacuately dressed and polished, reappears from wherever he had been lurking. "Please, follow me. We have some booths reserved for you."
The group enters the club, and is assaulted by the wall of sound. People are crammed in as tight as can be, with the bar area even more packed than that. Overhead, a series of catwalks and balconies provide extra levels to the club. Rising from the sea of people is the club's unofficial mascot, "the Beast," an enormous ten-meter high, bald and bulletheaded statue that has served as the unofficial mascot of Underworld 93 for over two decades. Lasers shoot from the statue’s eyes, smoke billows up around it, neolux tubing running the length of the statue bathes it in an eerie neon glow, and holograms and AR wrap the sculpture in glowing, flashy effects. From its belly, a massive speaker blasts out music.
The stage itself is set in the far south wall, and huge video displays and state of the art AR displays provide dizzying imagery for Emerald Cacophony, a local SynthMetal band playing as a warm up for Mercurial. They live up to their name, playing with volume and intensity matched only by the excitement of the crowd that writhes on the huge dance floor.
As the band plays on, a commotion erupts on the floor. A gunshot rings out, clear even over the music, and a space opens on the floor (though not much of one, given the crowd). A man is holding a gun, and another is laying on the floor. The man grabs a young woman, and puts the gun to her head, an obvious hostage taking. The group is at the base of the stairs, about 5 meters away. A message pops up on the collective PANs. The elf tilts his head, then speaks up. "The boss would appreciate it if you all would help handle this. Security is having a bit of trouble getting there with all the people."
Leading upto the gunshot she wouldn't have contributed much to whatever conversation the group might have attempted. She sat listening to the music and enjoying the feeling of the bass inside her chest.
Ask that we assist... Great, ima stay outta this one whilst loads of unarmed drugged and drunk rave idiots get their brains blown up by some suicidal moron... At-least when he runs out of bullets the crowd can rip him to pieces...
She pats her side, wishing the gun collectors had either been better at their job or never employed in the first place.
Spoiler
Current health: 10/10
Commlink Status: Passive, in her car.
Armor: 10/12
Status Effects: Itching for a Cigarette
"I apologise if I caused any offence, I don't doubt your security measures, it's just, if this node goes down, you get booted back into your body. You might have a headache, but you'd be OK."
"I would die. I suppose it would be the equivalent of checking a building's structure, make sure that it won't fall on top of you. So, you'll have to forgive me, assuming that questions that literally pertain to my continued existence are "rude""
Upon seeing the message, "Bloody hell."
9 turns to the ork, "Is he broadcasting anything? It would help me get a lock on his commlink."
Raising his hand, thumb and forefinger extended like a pistol. "bang..." he says quietly and a rush of near invisible magical energies race from his finger at the man with the gun...
The man sways a bit, but doesn't fall. "LEMME GO, I'LL OFF HER!" the man screams in a drunken slur. "SHES JUST LIKE 'ER. ALL OF 'EM ARE LIARS!"
The bigger problem though is the two angry looking spirits that have manifested themselves in front of Neimand. They each carry a massive a shield and an even bigger mace, and resemble knights in armor straight out of a fantasy trid. One takes a swing at Neimand with the ridiculously over-sized mace.
Saito turned over his sidearm without complaint, seemingly bored, before passing through the scanner. He fingers the token he received gently, before slipping it into the inner pocket of his very fine suit.
After being greeted and seeing the tragedy unfold before him, Saito sizes up the situation with a glance, and nods to the elf. There is no time to argue. "Tell the others not to open fire, but to watch for accomplices. I will expect to be compensated for this. I do not work for free." he says, firmly.
As the spirits materialize, Saito inwardly curses. He looks around and about, extending his senses and tasting the mood of the crowd, attempting to determine who summoned the spirits, what kind of spirits they are, or at least who has a magical aura. He pays special attention to anyone that he determines is calm or angry rather than surprised, confused, or frightened. As he does so, he extends a veil of influence around the other 'runners, preparing to interdict any hostile magic that comes their way.
::Stand by to track a target I designate.:: he sends to his watch spirit. ::Keep track of these spirits if they slip back into the Astral, and alert me if any more are moving to join the frey.::
He slips into a meditative trance, one that comes easily to a person who is at peace with both his ancestors and the kami that suffuse the world around him. His magic courses through his body and boosts his reflexes up to inhuman levels. He shudders slightly as the adrenaline courses through him and time seems to slow down.
Spoiler
Current health: 11/11 phys, 12/12 stun
Commlink Status: Public, broadcasting "Shadowrunner" SIN (Jun Saito, freelance mage)
Armor: 5/3
Status Effects: Watcher spirit summoned, ~two hours remaining.
Increased Reflexes: +3 Initiative, +3 Initiative Passes
Sustaining Increased Reflexes: –2 dice penalty on all other tests.
Counterspell 4 on everyone who seems to be an ally. I'm not actually sure if I know these dudes or if we've been introduced yet, so I don't know who should logically be covered?
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Candle Jack
This image you have of European peasants huddled fearfully in decrepit hovels while packs of baby-eating wolves terrorize the countryside has no basis in reality.
While the drunk waving the gun around is focused on the dwarf Mage, and the other wiz-type is doing...something, Hiro ducks into the startled and shifting crowd, slipping around the room as quietly as he can to sneak around behind the man and his hostage...
...bloody fraking hell...this job better be good, this is becoming trouble...
He shoots a private message to those he came here to meet. [Keep him distracted, I'm gonna try to get behind this piece of drek.]
A few taps on the deck strapped to his arm, and the ork replies. "Yeah, broadcast says his name is Mark Duggan. Nothing to suggest he's heavy."
Saito
The watcher spirit reports that there are many other spirits floating around, but they all seem to be bound and providing passive assistance to everyone in the club.
Saito's counterspelling extends over everyone who was on the couch.
As Saito's awakened gaze sweeps over the club, he can see no one with an unusual emotion. A few are more mellow than usual for this sort of situation, but the particular variations in their auras suggest they may be on something that makes them that way.
These meetings never do go entirely smoothly. Hard to say exactly what this guy's problem was, but the request had officially come down to deal with it, so that was increasingly not a concern. During the commotion, he slipped the drink glass into his jacket pocket and slinked around to one side as Hiro's message blinked onto his display. [I'll go around the other side. Meet in the middle, hopefully one of us can bring this guy down.] He paused, briefly, against a wall to quietly break the glass he had stashed and selected one of the larger shards before proceeding forward. Better than nothing against an armed, magical nutjob.
Spoiler
Current health: 10/10
Commlink Status: Public, broadcasting SIN: "Nathan Cowden"
Armor: 6/4
Status Effects:
Rolls:
Initiative: [roll0]
Palming (for the glass, might be necessary): [roll1]
Infiltration (sneaking around): [roll2]
Nathan
Nathan easily slips the glass into his pocket and comes away with a 4' long shard of glass. He moves like a ghost through the crowd, stopping right next to Hiro.
Hiro
The flashing lights, press of bodies, and general confusion of the situation work in Hiro's favor. He manages to sneak around successfully. Roll initiative.
Hiro glances over to where Nathan is. With a sly grin he nods, showing Nathan he's ready for whatever comes next. He keeps low, his cyberarm forward to attack or grapple the drek-head with the gun.
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