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  • Locked thread
Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty



The sun has risen high over the Strip, and specifically, it seems, right over the central road. Central Road, it's called. How creative. Central road is more than just the center of the Strip, which is the center of events, people, and the Maelstrom's attention these days. Central Road is the line of demarcation. Not between hosed and okay, because everything is hosed and nothing's okay. No, it's the line between Big Lowe the Sheriff, and Colonel Crocker. Once, not all that long ago, the Strip was more or less (less) comfortably run by Big Lowe and his Cops, before Colonel Crocker arrived on his doorstep. Slowly her forces encroached, and now about half the Strip belongs to her. And yet the stalemate isn't over. With the arrival of Gagarin's End on Big Lowe's farmland, well, Colonel Crocker might just see an opportunity. But enough about those people. This is not their world, depsite what they hope and dream.

This is the world of Key and Director Redstone and Rector Noam and Hurricane and Baby-boss.

Key, you'd rather have been coming from noco's out in Miller's Row. But instead, you're coming from Skaggsville. Tahoe's driving, you're in the passenger's seat. Headed for the Strip. Queen of Clubs sent for you, Tahoe says he was paid good jingle to bring you back; Queen wanted to talk. The jingle he offered you didn't hurt either. Guess you've got some business now. But as you're crossing the Fringe, Tahoe glances to the rear view and his eyes widen, then a few bikes box you in and the truck starts slowing down. Waylaid. You recognize the bikes - Sworn Brotherhood outriders. What do you do?

Rector Noam, it's been brought to your attention that your student Tek has been sleeping with Vince, one of Colonel Crocker's men. Normally this wouldn't be too much of a problem, would it? But now here you are, with Rince holding an empty notebook. Tek's been giving secrets away to her lover. She looks away when Rince shows the evidence. Where are you holding office hours? Who else, not of your faculty, is there? And what do you do?

Director Redstone, where the gently caress is everybody? Yeah, you had to kick Ethawel out of the gates the other day, but maybe his damage was done. Gox didn't report for shift. Watney did hand you a report on the hydroponics but it was sloppily written and full of bad news. Several batches of products were just unattended to and failed. You're not the greenthumb, but you do know that means you're going to be short a lot of food real fast. You're going to have problems, that's for sure, and a rumor's going around the End that Big Lowe is marshalling his Cops to throw you off the farmland once and for all - or at least kill you. The only one that seems to be working as hard as they need to be is you...so what do you do?

Baby-boss, yeah, it's loving noon. And you're just waking up. Your boy Hedge is loving screaming at you to wake up, and then his head is blown clean away. You're in the Strip, sure, that's probably all you can piece together right now. You hear the hammer click back on what must be a big loving revolver - what do you do?

Hurricane, Jonkstown isn't happy with you. Your mural didn't flip the Wrencher's switches the right way, and they didn't ask for it. Not that it ever stops you. But now Shannone is right in your room, and she's not looking to join you. She wants you out, yesterday. According to her, your murals attract Wade. And everyone knows Wade is not the kind of fucker you want up in your business. Frankly, neither is Shannone, at least not with her knives. At a word, she steps out and one of her Wrenchers throws a bottle through the window, which bursts into flames. They'll burn one of their buildings down to get you out. They can rebuild it, they can't fix you, you dig? What do you do?

===

Recruitment and general OOC thread is here.
Please put your full character sheets in your first post, at the top of your post.
The list of people and places is here. IF YOU'RE READING LATER, THIS PROBABLY HAS SPOILERS.

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Tevery Best
Oct 11, 2013

Poland can, like, totally into space!


Noam



If you go from The Strip to Miller's Row, then turn right some two intersections before noce's, then walk another two miles or so in that direction, you'll have wasted a bigger part of a day and get pretty much into the middle of nowhere. That part of the ruins is deserted, even the rats hardly go there. Picked clean decades ago, slowly rusting and decaying, it did not attract anyone looking for a place to stay.

But there is one thing in there: an old building, its façade made of glass and metal, its roof a long, concrete slope, its apex above the entrance. The inside is littered with scraps of wood and metal, lying around on the dark floor tiles. The first room - a spacious lobby with plenty of light - is also the only one that has not yet collapsed. In the back, there are stairs, leading upwards to a broad concrete catwalk overlooking the rest of the room. And that is where I put my desk today. Rumours came that there are great things yet undiscovered somewhere near, and I would like to find them. Instead, I preside over a trial.

Rince is a paranoid fellow, extremely suspicious of others, scared of a stab in the back. Although loyal to the Institute to a fault, if you ever go somewhere dangerous, it's a good idea to stick to him; few people have such a keen eye for the door, or such a wonderful sense of when to go for it. Everyone knows he thinks himself the right man to become the Bursar - an opening I'm hesitant to create; not in the least because Rince can't write a decent paper to save his life. It took Doctor Jones three years to guide him towards baccalaureate, with Jones gone, the chances of Rince ever gaining Tenure seem small. I won't allow backstage politicking to override academic achievement.

Tek, however, is another thing.

I look to my side, where Ethawel stands. He had only just arrived, saying he's a messenger from Gagarin's End, but didn't say what he was actually after. Pity he has to witness such a disgraceful event. I motion for him to wait.

Tek was one of my best students. She was unusually bright, hard-working, and very sensitive to the Maelstrom. I pegged her for Tenure within the next year.

Over the past decade or so, we took on fifteen students. Two - poor Labov and Adjunct Derrida - made Tenure, three more were Bachelors and working for it. The rest never went anywhere, or died. Teaching was a disaster. Tek was the latest recruit.

And now, this. Treachery has never occurred since I became Rector, not even once.

Striking her out from the list of students wouldn't suffice, obviously. She cannot be allowed to spread any more secrets of the Institute. I fear she will have to be made Aphasic, or killed. I would hate to do either.

I glance onto her, standing below the three of us, looking up with fear, and speak, with rare clarity:

"Student Tek, you have broken the Code of Conduct. What - what can you say in your defence?"

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

Baby, the Chopper


Looks: Woman, showy biker wear, narrow face, calculating eyes, wiry body
Stats: Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1
Gear: Crowbar (2-harm hand messy), sawed-off (3-harm close reload messy), luxe leathers (1-armor)
Bike: Luxe Cruiser (fast, aggressive, vintage, roaring, guzzler)

Moves:
Pack alpha: when you try to impose your will on your gang, roll+hard. On a 10+, all 3. On a 7–9, choose 1:
• they do what you want
• they don’t fight back over it
• you don’t have to make an example of one of them
On a miss, someone in your gang makes a dedicated bid to replace you for alpha.

loving thieves: when you have your gang search their pockets and saddlebags for something, roll+hard. It has to be something small enough to fit. On a 10+, one of you happens to have just the thing, or close enough. On a 7–9, one of you happens to have something pretty close, unless what you’re looking for is hi-tech, in which case no dice. On a miss, one of you used to have just the thing, but it turns out that some asswipe stole it from you.


Hurricane: Hx=0
Key: Hx=0
Director Redstone: Hx-1
Rector Noam: Hx+1



The Sworn Brotherhood
Gang of discipled riders that have sworn blood-oaths to Baby and each other. They wear outlandish garb to look fuckin awesome while stomping their foes. A previous leader swore an oath to The Boss, and the Brotherhood is still bound to it.
(2-harm gang, small 1-armor mobile obligation)

++++++++


My fuckin’ head… I remember the bug-juice shots last night, but its a blur after that. Did someone start mixing in stupid poo poo like Wiggley’s rotshine? Hedge-bro’s wide face slowly comes into focus, and I’m about to kick the fucker for being so goddamn loud when his head explodes. Getting showered with blood, bone, and brains wakes you right the gently caress up. Blood-colored shadows dance in my vision, but the sound of a revolver lets me focus. My crowbar is right where its supposed to be, and I roll to my feet, kicking and making haymaker swings with the ‘bar’s hooked end.

Blood splatters, bones crack, and someone screams. Possibly me, but I’m riding the razor’s edge too much to care.

(Seize (control of the situation) By Force with crowbar (2-harm hand messy).
Seize By Force: 2d6+2 7
• you take definite hold of it
• you suffer little harm)



The battle-sweat cleans the blood out of my eyes, and the rage pushes the drug-fuzz out of my brain. I start to see clearly, and begin to think instead of reacting. So seriously, what the gently caress is goin' on?

(Read a Sitch: 2d6+0 9
• what’s my enemy’s true position?)

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

"I'm guessing they aren't interested in you, Tahoe." Key looked at the assembled bikers. If this happened a few days ago, he wouldn't worry one bit about being stopped. Have a short chat with the group and see what they needed. Maybe they'd want to know when they could bring someone by or if I could help them right away. The sitch wasn't so simple any more. Maybe they hadn't heard the news. Could be they're just looking for someone to patch them up. Whatever they wanted, running from them wouldn't solve the problem. Even if Tahoe could escape, they'd still be an itch waiting to be scratched.

Key leaned over to Tahoe.

"Best if you put the brakes on. I'll get out and see what they want. I'll try to keep it short. Don't want to keep the Queen o' Clubs waiting too long." Key waited for the vehicle to stop and he got out. He looked at the assembled Sworn Brotherhood outriders.

"You got my attention." He announced. "Lets talk."

He then looked around to see who was going to speak up for them.



pre:
Shadow of Death (formerly Key)
Battlebabe

Look:  Man, display wear, sharp face, merciless eyes, slim body

Stats: Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1

Moves:
Prepared for the inevitable: you have a well-stocked and highquality first aid kit. 
It counts as an angel kit (cf ) with a capacity of 2-stock.

Ice cold: when you go aggro on an NPC, roll+cool instead of roll+hard. When 
you go aggro on another player’s character, roll+Hx  instead of roll+hard.

Gear
(Perdition) Handgun (2-harm close reload loud)
+ hi-powered (+1harm)
+ big (+1harm)

(Reaper) Blade
+ Handle (1-harm hand)
+blade (+1harm)
antique (+valuable)
Black overcoat with kevlar vest underneath (fashion/armor worth 2-armor)

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


Director Redstone
The Hardholder | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird-2
XP ○○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


I stare at Watney's report for a few moments, then slam it down on the ancient desk that I'd inherited from the Directors before me. This - this is unacceptable. For a moment I consider going up to hydroponics and hauling Watney topside to a rocket - but no. That would make me feel better but wouldn't solve the problem.

Instead, I grab my gun and go down. In the lower galleries I find the Cosmonuts lounging around, drinking or getting high. Range is at a table playing cards with her confidants. As I enter, I nearly trip over Shep, who has clearly just dosed himself with Drift.

This time I do not stifle my rage. I grab Shep by the scruff of his neck and haul him into the room with me, then I hurl him onto the table, into the middle of Range's game. Every Cosmonut in the room is on their feet and staring at me in seconds. Their looks range from sullen to outright hostile. Good. I want them mad.

"Cosmonuts!" I bellow at them. "This is mission critical! Our supply runs low, and grounders are preparing to deny us access to the farmlands we've landed upon! I will not allow it. It's time to work the problem! We will go and seize what we need and show them what it means to interfere with normal operations!"

I bang my hand down onto the table, next to Shep's head. "I go to battle! If you have the Right Stuff, then stand beside me!"

Once I have them moving, we'll hit Big Lowe first. We'll see who wants to slack off after I return in triumph.

Lemme know if I should roll something now or not.

Hardholder posted:


Stats: Cool+1, Hard+2, Hot+1, Sharp+1, Weird-2
Look: Woman, junta wear, stern face, commanding eyes, massive body

Moves:
Leadership: when your gang fights for you, roll+hard. On a 10+, hold 3. On a 7–9, hold 1. Over the course of the fight, spend your hold 1 for 1 to make your gang:
• make a hard advance
• stand strong against a hard advance
• make an organized retreat
• show mercy to their defeated enemies
• fight and die to the last
On a miss, your gang turns on you or tries to hand you over to your enemy.

Wealth: If your hold is secure and your rule unchallenged, at the beginning of the session, roll+hard. On a 10+, you have surplus at hand and available for the needs of the session. On a 7–9, you have surplus, but choose 1 want. On a miss, or if your hold is compromised or your rule contested, your hold is in want. e precise values of your surplus and want depend on your holding, as follows.

Gear:
smg (2-harm close area loud), personal fashion (1-armor)

Hx:
Baby-Boss Hx+1
Key Hx+3
Hurricane Hx+1
Rector Noam Hx+0

Gagarin's End


• ~100 souls
• for gigs, a mix of hunting, crude farming, and scavenging (surplus: 1-barter, want: hungry).
• a makeshift compound of concrete, sheet metal and rebar. Your gang gets +1armor when fighting in its defense.
• a gang of about 60 violent people (4-harm gang large unruly 1-armor).

• for gigs, add lucrative raiding. Surplus: +1barter, want: +reprisals.
• for gigs, add protection tribute. Surplus: +1barter, want: +obligation.
• your gang is large instead of medium, 60 violent people or so.
• your armory is sophisticated and extensive. Your gang gets +1harm.

• your gang is a pack of loving hyenas. Want: savagery.
• your population is lazy and drug-stupored. Want: +famine.

inklesspen
Oct 17, 2007

Though they carry nothing forth with them, yet in all their journey they lack nothing. For wheresoever they come, they be at home.


Buglord

Hurricane
The Touchstone | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp 0 | Weird-1
XP ○○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor


I'll be posting this at the top of my posts. If anything changes during the post, I'll post the revised version at the bottom of the post.

Well, now, Wade is a force onto himself. If he turns up in Gevurah, representing judgement, there's not much I can do about that; Shannone is just lucky he didn't appear in Netzach, portending victory. "Didn't anyone ever tell you people not to speak of the devil?" I grumble; I bet if I close my eyes right now, he'll be all over the future I see. But I can't afford to close my eyes right now, can I?

It takes only a moment to grab the stuff I'm carrying, but I'm pretty sure once I step outside, the Wrenchers will have more poo poo around than just a couple of old bottles. I need a way to turn the tables on them, to make them willing to take "I walk away" as a compromise. I need to know what's what, and I have only moments to figure this out.

read the situation: 2d6+0 5

Touchstone posted:


(by Thayet)

Moves:
  • Visionary: when you share your vision of the future with another player’s character, roll+hard. On a 10+, hold 3 over them. On a 7–9, hold
    2 over them. Whenever you like, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to have them mark experience. On a miss, they hold 1 over you, on the same terms.
  • Indomitable: when you go into battle, roll+hard. On a 10+, hold 3. On a 7–9, hold 2. On a miss, hold 1, but take -1 forward. During the battle you can spend your hold 1 for 1 to:
    • Name an npc within your reach. You kill, disable or disarm them (MC’s choice).
    • Name a character within your reach. You redirect their attack to another character within your reach, or else to nowhere — into the ground or a wall or the sky.
    • Name a character on the scene, but outside your reach. You cross the distance between you before they have time to adjust or react.
    • Name a character within your reach. While you keep fighting, you intercept any attack directed at them and they suffer no harm.
    • Ignore all harm to yourself from an incoming attack.
  • NOT TO BE hosed WITH: in battle, you count as a gang (3-harm gang small), with armor according to the circumstances.

Special move: When you lie intimately with another character, if you love them, all’s well and my blessings. If you don’t love them, permanently scribble out an improvement option you haven’t taken. Don’t scribble out “change your character to a new type.”

When you go among people, offering hope, they respond by giving you food, shelter, companionship, trust, and any small thing you need, worth 1-barter or less, generously or grudgingly according to their nature.
When you go among people, exploiting their hope, they respond by giving you food, shelter, companionship, trust, any small thing you need, or even straight-up jingle, worth 1- or 2-barter. They won’t su er you forever.
When you go among people, acting with hope, they respond by spreading your name everywhere they go, to everyone they meet, with admiration, revulsion, fear, or contempt, according to their nature.

Possessions: hunting rifle and machete, oddments worth 1 barter, well-made but worn pants, fraying shirt, tough jacket (1 armor)

Hx:
Baby-Boss: +1
Key: +1
Noam: 0
Redstone: 0


Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Key, the outrider that approaches is small but wiry, and doesn't remove his helmet nor even raise his visor. On the other hand, he doesn't draw either of his weapons, though one of the other riders in the rear unslings a carbine from her back to the front. They mean business, but they aren't threatening you. The leader up front cuts right to the chase. "Tahoe here owes us several gallons. Whether it's go-juice for the bikes or go-juice for us, hope he's got it." One of the other outriders raises a finger, the leader turns his head, acknowledges it, and turns back. "We've got siphons," he says. The implication is clear. They don't care about stranding you in the Fringe, and you don't recall seeing too much in the way of spare juice in Tahoe's ride. What do you do?

Baby-Boss: you're half-right. You're both screaming. You realize that your adversary has managed to shoot you as well, but you've clearly fared a lot better than Hedge. Crowbar in hand, you stand over your now-battered target, both bleeding. Seems you got the better of the exchange, though, as his gun skitters across the floor of wherever it is you are. Your headache is crushing, but that's probably better than his ribs, which you managed to have mangled right through his..riding leathers? From behind a fresh-looking bandana, he speaks. You didn't exactly ask, but your look and heavy breathing asks for you. Or maybe he just wanted to talk. "My name is Dewey," he wheezes, "outrider of the Steel Guard and herald of Ironmonger. We're coming for you, Baby." He grimaces and coughs; blood seeps through his bandana. "It's coming around for you. And you'll never escape." What do you do?

Actually, Hurricane, you're short even those few moments as the flame quickly turns into an inferno. The door is quickly being cut off, so you go for it. You crash through the door, and you're smoke-blind. But, your other senses work just fine. Hearing, touch. And they tell you you've just been loving shot. On the other hand, you're still thinking about it, so it can't have been that bad, but you're thrown for a loving loop and you still can't see a drat thing. What do you do now? Your next move is Acting Under Fire, or you can stay blinded with whatever those consequences may be...

Student Tek stands firm. She's clearly nervous and scared, but refuses to be shamed for her actions, and speaks plainly, after a moment. "Rector, Associate Professor, Instructor," she begins, addressing you, Rince, and Ethawel in turn. "My defense is simple. Vince came to me one afternoon, clearly distressed. He told me that his superiors had learned of our close contact and demanded that he find out information from me, or else his life, and likely my own, would be in immediate and serious danger." She pauses briefly, and then continues, pointing to the torn notebook provided as evidence. "The information I provided was considered a secret, I am aware. However - as a barely-past-fresh student, I expect the Academy would not provide me with any truely arcane secrets. I also surmise that without even the baseline coursework and training I have already undergone, the provided material would be all but useless to whoever recieved it." She takes a deep breath, and then finishes. "There have been no more threats made to me nor Vince since I provided the information, and I believe Vince's cohort is leaving us alone." How do you respond?

Director Redstone, Shep looks back at you from the ground confusedly, and then his body catches up and he simply collapses further where he lays, a dramatic demonstration of the power of Drift. Ethawel, that fucker. From the middle of the room, Fairing grumbles about not having had a proper meal in a week. While the news of the food shortage worsening might be new to you, before you can respond Iven does it for you, literally slapping Fairing to the floor. Then Iven, Crossfield, and Naa raise their guns to the sky in unison, leaping to their feet. They're with you. Fairing continues to sulk on the ground as the most of the rest of the room comes to life around her. Double-G, from the back, salutes sharply but heads out - you suspect he's going to round the rest of the Cosmonuts in his barracks, fair enough. You've rallied a fair number of your gangers, with the notable exceptions of fairing who skulks away, and Range, who waggles her gun but collects her cards unenthusiastically. Now what do you do?
---
Baby-boss:
Baby-Boss Harm Roll (minor poo poo): 2d6+1 11
Choose one from Pain and keep on going.

Hurricane:
poo poo that could kill you
http://orokos.com/roll/384361
inklesspen chooses dazed, MC chooses stunned

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

He resisted the urge to laugh. Seeing these bikers show up made him think they were here for him, but no its Tahoe they want. Even though it was Tahoe's problem, he couldn't just leave the situation alone. Any solution right now would have to include him. Key put his hands up to show the outriders, he only wanted to talk.

"Hey, he's my ride right now and I'd like to get to town. I got an appointment to keep. That being the case, I'd like to see if I can arrange a deal here. Now, I don't know how much go juice Tahoe's got with him right now. If Tahoe does have enough, I'll make sure he coughs it up for you. People ought to always honor their deals. If he doesn't, then what? Where do you go from there?"

Key asked the question and wondered if the bikers had any more of a plan then shooting Tahoe if the go juice wasn't forth coming.

inklesspen
Oct 17, 2007

Though they carry nothing forth with them, yet in all their journey they lack nothing. For wheresoever they come, they be at home.


Buglord

Hurricane
The Touchstone | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp 0 | Weird-1
XP ○○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor


gently caress. gently caress! loving poo poo! I focus my thoughts on paying the Wrenchers back for this. They must be half-crazed to burn down one of their own buildings, so close to their storehouses of guzzoline. Several of the Wrenchers are laughing at me; I don't have to be able to see to recognize Sam-Slam's giggle and pinpoint his location. Three steps get me to his side, machete cutting through the tether holding his waterflask before he has a chance to react — at least, that's my plan.

get my poo poo together under fire: 2d6+1 5

XP ●○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor

Tevery Best
Oct 11, 2013

Poland can, like, totally into space!


Noam



The Hocus | Cool+0 | Hard+1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+2
XP ○○○○○» | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


Good argumentation. Logical. Pity the arguments are so weak. Were I not so loathe to consign her to death, they probably would not convince me. And they surely have not convinced Rince, or anyone else who thinks like he does. Some in the faculty probably do. Dean Tryuk most likely does not, a peaceful and sage woman that she is, nor does Magister Wawer, he operates in his own little world. But with the others... Who knows. And, sadly, this is not something that can be kept under the rug.

I need to know if she's worth saving. Rince does not need to know. I would also appreciate if he does not interrupt.

Reading Tek: 2d6+1 10

"Should you therefore be understood as to be pleading guilty to the charges brought fo=orth against you?
I spend 1 hold to know how she actually feels. Remorse? Guilt? No big deal?

"Student Tek, are you in-in possession of any oth-er non-public, confidential, classified or secret materials?"

I spend 1 hold to know if she's telling the truth when she answers.

I'll also keep 1 for later, in case something I hear makes me want to ask something else than what I figured so far.

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

I choose bleeding

Baby, the Chopper
Cool +1| Hard +2 |Hot +1 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
XP: 1/5 | Barter: 0 | Armor: 1 | Injuries: Bleeding


I just sigh and shake my head at the fucker’s declaration of war, which cause more pain to shoot through my hip. I can feel the fresh blood on both sides, a through-and through that hopefully missed everything important. loving sore loser Ironmonger, wish she knew when to just take her lumps.

Oddly enough, I haven’t heard anything else. No battlecries from Brothers or attackers, no pounding of feet coming to see what’s up. Did I really let myself get caught out with just Hedge-bro? A mystery for the fuckin’ future, got bizness to attend to.

“So Dewey,” I begin, in a friendly-like tone. “You’re gonna die.” I wave my crowbar at his chest, laboring to draw air. “That’s what they call one of them Statements o’Fact. But if you’re a good boy and tell me what else the Queen Bitch of the Pit is sending my way, I’ll take Hedge-bro’s pig-sticker there and make it quick.” I snag his gun with the hook of the ‘bar and tuck it into my belt, grimacing at the fresh pain.

“Limited time offer here Dewey. You fucker. Iffin you don’t take me up on it by the time I’ve got my poo poo packed, you’re down to Option ‘Drown in My Own Blood”.


Manipulate a Fucker: 2d6+1 7

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Hurricane, there's a couple of things that have gone right for you! One of those things is having cut the container loose from Sam-Slam, and another is that everyone else is scattering, and the third is that you can see again. The tears in your eyes have cleared the smoke, at least temporarily. There's some stuff that's gone seriously wrong, though. THe first thing that's gone wrong is for Sam-Slam, who's gone from giggling to gurgling as you got about half his stomach along with the container strap. The second is that you sliced right through the strap and into the container itself, which is now leaking everywhere. The next thing that's gone wrong is that Sam-Slam is a goddamn idiot - or, more charitably, wasn't really informed of the plan - and was carrying guzzoline. Which brings you to the next conclusion, that loving everything in the immediate area, not just 'your' shack - is about to go up in loving flames. What do you do?

Key, the outrider leader doesn't really answer you, but gestures back to the truck - you can take the hint and go talk to Tahoe, who immediately knows what's going on. "All I've got in here is a sawed-off under the seat," he says, in an odd combination of frantic and resigned. "I'm supposed to pick up another tank of gas when I get back to the Strip, and a contract to carry a palette of booze is waiting there too. For delivery of course, but, you know." Wheel and deal to stay alive another day, that's the plan. Always is, isn't it? "But," he continues, "I've got nothing spare right now. This loving job picking you up screwed up my normal plans." A glance through the windshield reveals that the woman in back is checking over her carbine. "WHATCHA GOT," the leader barks. What do you do?

"gently caress you, Baby," snarls Dewey in response. "The Steel Guard knows you and your idiot pack of bandits is here, and we're coming. Coming for you. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe the week after." He grins, or grimaces. It's hard to tell. "But we're coming. And don't try to run. We'll know, and our vengeance will be all the worse." How do you respond?

Rector, you can tell by his eyes that Rince is straining not to say anything, but he knows enough not to interfere with your direct inquest. Still, it's hard for him to keep his mouth shut. Ethawel, for his part stands like a post, his expression a silent mix of bemusement, contemplation, and apathy. Tek replies, at first almost confused. "Rector, I have never claimed to have not given away course materials. I do understand this was a violation of the Code of Conduct, but I honestly believed my life was at stake." She seems earnest, here. Tek sighs and continues. "I am prepared to accept censure and discipline," she quotes from the Code. Responding to your second question, she replies, "only inasmuch as my current courses require me to have certain study materials," and at this Ethawel nods ever so slightly. You can discern from her vocal patterns that she is, as far as she knows, telling the truth. How do you respond?

---

Baby-boss: that's definitely Go Aggro, not Manipulate. I treated your roll as a Go Aggro with a result of 8. If there's an issue, let me know and we'll sort it.

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

"Maybe you shouldn't have taken this job. Did you think about that? You got this poo poo hanging over your head and you decided to take the Queen's offer to drive me to her." Key looked around, resisting the urge to beat the poo poo out of Tahoe. "This isn't my problem. Its yours. I'm thinking that maybe I should just drag you out of your vehicle and toss you to them. I could give them all that precious jingle you got and hell even the jingle I got. Let them do what they want with you. And in return, all I'd ask for is the use of your vehicle to get to the Queen of Clubs. And at that point they could even have this heap of yours and anything in it as well. That way the only people who have to pay are the ones who made promises they couldn't keep. "

He leaned in real close to Tahoe and pulled Reaper out of its sheath. The kukri blade shined in the sun. Key kept the blade low and away from Tahoe.

"How does that sound to you?"

Going aggro (using the move ice cold to use cool instead of hard for the roll) Going Aggro: 2d6+3 13

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


Director Redstone
The Hardholder | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird-2
XP ○○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


I pretend not to notice the reluctant stragglers. Enough of the Cosmonuts answered the call to start the tide that will pull the others along.

I turn and march out of the room, again downward, toward the lower hangars. Through the swarms of Cosmonuts preparing. I climb atop one of the war-haulers, the big one that came all the way from the Complex. "T-minus 10! We are go!" I roar at my soldiers, banging on the roof of the vehicle.

Buzz clambers up besides me, his hair shot through with grey, but a feral look in his eyes. No Cosmonut has lived as long as he, and it wasn't for lack of the Right Stuff. "We really going after Big Lowe?" I shrug at him, knowing I can speak plainly to this man.

"We're raiding the food stores. If Lowe gets in our way, I'll come down on him with both feet. But the food is mission critical."

Buzz nods. "He'll come after us," he adds, not arguing, just saying. I grin at him, my own smile as nasty as the gleam in the old man's eyes. "I'm counting on it."

A war whoop from below distracts us as Stage hauls herself up into the pilot's couch on this wagon and starts revving the engine for launch. Glancing around and seeing that at least half the Cosmonuts are mounted up, I lean over and shout at Stage. "IGNITION!" The wagon is moving before I even get back up right, waving my gun over my head as the others lurch into motion around us and laggards scramble aboard anything that will carry them.

As we roll down the ramp, I see a few scrambling aboard the last wagon behind us, too slow to grab onto mine. I meet Range's eyes, and tip my cap to her as she crowds onto it, getting a rude gesture in return. But I think there's a smile behind it.

We emerge into sun, and the Cosmonuts around me roar, Buzz and Stage loudest of all. I add my voice to theirs. No matter what happens, no one will say Redstone sat on her laurels.

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at Mar 24, 2016 around 16:57

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

Baby, the Chopper
Cool +1| Hard +2 |Hot +1 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
XP: 2/5 | Barter: 0 | Armor: 1 | Injuries: Bleeding


I just snort at the fucker’s rant and finish wrapping a strip of bedroll around my hip. Not the best, but it’ll keep me from leaking for now. “Considering me and my idiot bandits beat Ironmonger at her own game once already, ain’t gonna start quaking in my boots just yet.” I strap on the sawed-off’s harness and pull out Hedge-bro’s knife. Its a nice one, he spent hours oiling and sharpening it. Always said it was the last thing he had from his old life, and he’d die with it in his hand. Close enough to the truth, I suppose. Squatting down next to the fucker, I smile a thin smile.

“You got guts fucker, and I’m kinda sad you went and killed a Brother. Ya woulda made a good Brother otherwise.” Before he can respond I slam the knife into the side of his head, right behind the eye. “At least now you won’t drown.” I stand with a pained grunt and leave the meat to the crows.

My head is clearing a bit, and I recognize my location when I hit the hallway. The CVs is on the end of Big Lowe’s section of the Strip, close enough to enjoy civilization but far enough to keep a low profile. The Brotherhood had taken to shacking up there occasionally after we pushed out the last set of squatters, but why would I be here without a bigger posse?

My ride is still here, thank the Road, hidden downstairs in the gutted storefront. No sign of Hedge-bro’s ride, must have rode stand-by. I should take things quiet-like, but its been a lovely morning. The Lady roars to life, and I blow out of the busted windows, heading for the Pipe Jungle. I’m hankering for answers, and the rest of the Brotherhood better hope they have them.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Baby-boss, it's sure that nobody will notice the ultra-lobotomized biker hanging out on the floor of CVs, at least not until the corpse starts stinking in the heat. Which should take...not very long. It's getting pretty hot! But the breeze on your face is cool as you whip out towards the Pipe Jungle. Maybe someone notices you leaving, but they probably don't really care. What is interesting is that there's a hot new bike with no owner laying about on the Strip, somewhere. As you get a minute or two out of town you pass by Gagarin's End, that immense fortress, vehicle, whatever it is. It seems...dead? You've seen it a few times, I'm sure, but have you ever seen it as quiet as it is right now? Does anything else seem out of place on your ride back? No is a fine answer, I just want to keep everyone generally in time sync. We'll handle your return to the Pipe Jungle itself soon.

Key, Tahoe collapses under your threat, head in his hands, bounces it off the steering wheel. Seems like he knows he's all but dead. "You kill me," he whines, "they'll take it out on you," but it's not much of a protest. You can listen to him, or you can drag him out and present him to the outriders. Tahoe won't stop you.

Alarmingly, Director, a motorcycle speeds out towards Gagarin's End as you're rallying the Cosmonuts, at least that's what Deke hollered. Can't let that get in the way of your preparations, and by the time you're rolling out he reports it's just a dust trail heading for the horizon. Not a worry. Or at least much less of one than what's coming. Smoke billows as your rigs roll out. In the lead there's Stage driving, Deke spotting, you commanding everything, and Buzz shooting with his big trusty, as he calls it. Range is taking command of one of the secondary combat riders, what with Naa and Slayton on it, at least that you can see. Another battlewagon is coming up on the left, and Zaikin is speeding off on his hog to run recon. It's a good day, isn't it? Roll Leadership.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


Director Redstone
The Hardholder | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird-2
XP ○○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


I grab one of the orange flags strapped to the top of the wagon and wave it over my head, directing the ones following me to spread out. With Stage at the controls of mine, we're committed to a direct assault, but I want the others to fall on the flanks of whatever force we run into.

As we speed in towards the food stores, I peer through a pair of battered noculars, trying to gauge the opposition. With the dust and the jarring ride, I can't see a damned thing, so I toss them back down and ready my weapon. It's too late for second guessing. Only moments before we're close enough to our target for them to know what's coming for sure. I can't help but smile - at least for the next few minutes, there'll be no time for posturing or politics. Just war and blood.

Leadership [+Hard]: 2d6+2 7
Holding 1 for Leadership.

Read a Sitch [+Sharp]: 2d6+1 5
Lovely.

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at Mar 25, 2016 around 16:32

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

"Not yet. I wouldn't hold out hope for surviving the day." Key dragged him out of the vehicle and roughly dragged him out in front of the leader of the outriders.

"I don't give a drat about what deal you have with this guy. Its not my business." He pointed to the leader with his blade. "You brought me into this, so unless you have a hassle getting what you want lets deal."

Key put away the blade.

"If you let me get to where I need to be, then you can have this guy and his vehicle. Also I'll throw in some jingle for your trouble. I got nothing against you or yours, so I'd like to get this situation resolved as peacefully as possible. What do you say?"

inklesspen
Oct 17, 2007

Though they carry nothing forth with them, yet in all their journey they lack nothing. For wheresoever they come, they be at home.


Buglord

Hurricane
The Touchstone | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp 0 | Weird-1
XP ●○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor


Could be worse! What I'm about to do is probably going to kill any chance of me being welcomed back here, but then again, I could do without a welcome such as this. Besides, it's really Sam-Slam's fault for carrying around a flask full of guzzoline.

Sam-Slam's not gonna be good for much of anything anymore, so I shove him toward the flames before lunging in the opposite direction. Just around the corner from here there's a couple of the Wrenchers' dune buggy technicals. They're kinda poo poo, but they're light and fast and right now I just want to get away from here faster than anything.

I snatch up a screwdriver from the floor of one of the buggies and with only a little fiddling I get the buggy started. The tank's only a quarter full, but that should at least get me as far as the Strip. As Sam-Slam's go-juice detonates in the fire, I wave a jaunty farewell to Shannone and open the throttle to full.

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

Baby, the Chopper

Yeah I've seen Gargarin like that, right before Daysinn turned to smoke and ash. When the crazyhouse is empty, the insanos are out playing.

Which isn't entirely bad, there may be a way to make some jiggle on the events. But the rainclouds on the horizon, those are another matter. Bad enough when its rain-time, if the mud is coming early this lovely day may last a bit longer.

Tevery Best
Oct 11, 2013

Poland can, like, totally into space!


Noam

"Good. Your temoignage is app-recia-ted. You are dismissed. Do not leave."

I turn to Rince, knowing he is about to burst, but I stop him with a gesture. "Associate Professor. Please be so - so kind a-as to inform the Mem-bers of the Council of the Institute that they are to gađer for an - an - a special session this evening. Be - quick in your actions. I want you back within the hour, so that - so that I may also have a chance to speak to you. I see you are much con-cerned. I would gladly put - put those concerns to rest. Now, go. I must talk with our guest. He has waited long enough."

I turn to Ethawel. By and large, the faculty should be in this part of town, searching. Some may be farther away, but the rules dictate that the Council presides based on whoever with Tenure is close enough to be called. And I want to have time to speak to everyone first, don't I? I do not seek their insight this time - quite the contrary, I want them to listen to mine.

I look at my guest, his smile quite telling, given the circumstances. "Instructor. What news do you bring? Does Gagarin's End have business with us yet again?"

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Hurricane, a good chunk of Jonkstown is on fire right now, but you're speeding away from the flames at least semi-triumphantly. Doesn't seem like they installed any killswitches on the dune buggy, which they definitely could have. Almost surprising. A few drops of rain splash into your face. If this picks up at all it's gonna get a lot harder to see, even with the drive goggles that were handily hanging from the driver's side roll bar. As you approach, you notice that something is going down - a train of rigs is dusting hard from Gagarin's End right towards the Strip, or at least it seems that way from here. Have you ever seen the Cosmonuts up close and personal? More directly, that looked like an explosion in the dust clouds; what do you do?

Key, the leader of the outriders cocks his head, then turns to the other three members of his squad. Visor goes up. Variously gloved hands gesticulate briefly, but then calm down. He turns back to you, visor still up. His expression seems to be a smug sneer, from what you can see that isn't obscured by his helmet. "Hand him over," he says, pointing to Tahoe, whose face falls even farther, if it's possible. "Then we'll follow you back. No funny business - not this time." He seems to recognize you, Key. Who is he? Do you know? What funny business is he talking about?

Director Redstone, the rain isn't falling right now so much as it's just hanging as mist, making speeding along like driving through a thin mud. Wonderful. Stage curses loudly as her vision obscures, but for all your might, there's no changing the weather. You know it. Even in the golden days, Launches were at the mercy of the weather. But there's no time for idle thoughts, this is war. Big Lowe awaits you. The reverie is broken by blood, as two things happen at the same time. Zaikin's radio cuts off and up ahead there's an explosion. That gives you three problems: you're driving blind, that was a fuckin' sweet radio, and Big Lowe's forces either have rockets, or worse, maybe mined the approach. Or maybe even loving both. What do you do?

Baby-boss, you roll up to your crew's stomping ground at the Pipe Jungle, a storm brewing behind you. Literally, whereas the storm brewing in front of you is a bit more metaphorical. Looks like one of your outrider gangs acquired, looted, or extorted a big case of booze, and well, it's flowing pretty liberally. "Whelmcum hoem, boss," Navarro slurs, offering you a bottle. Seems like this party either started early, or more realistically, never stopped. "Back by yasself," he continues, looking vaguely confused though that might just be at the world at large right now, "no Hedge-bruh? G'bored of him that...fuckin' quicklike?" Punctuated by a waggle of his eyebrows and a collapse into laughter from the close in group, it's obvious why your crew thinks you two were at the Strip by yourselves. Why don't they know the truth? And how do you respond?

Rector Noam, Rince squirms and fidgets with the tension bubbling under his skin, but he spits out a quick "of course, Rector," before spinning on his heel and jogging off. Ethawel glances at Tek quickly before directing his attention back to you. "Rector, it's good to see you again," he says in that chemically-burned voice of his. "Gagarin's End is good for business, yes. I think there are many that would be responsive to your teachings at this time. I suspect they will be on the move again shortly, whether physically or mentally, and the moment will be lost." Tek, for her part, stands silently by but watching Rince as he goes. What do you do?

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


Director Redstone
The Hardholder | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird-2
XP ○○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


Buzz curses loudly in my ear. "Zaikin bought the farm!"

"I have loving eyes!" I snarl back, thinking fast. I drop down to yell at Stage. "Steer for the explosion! Maximum thrust!" I get a wide eyed look back - I've managed to come up with a plan even Stage thinks it's crazy. But only for a moment. She gives me a thumbs up and hauls on the controls. I reach over and grab the mic for the radio. "Range! Orbit, come in eccentric!" I don't bother waiting for confirmation.

I pull myself back up and wave for the other wagon and the smaller vehicles moving with my wagon to follow single-file. If it's mines, then Zaikin at least cleared one on his track. If it's rockets, maybe the smoke and flame will spoil their aim long enough for us to get close.

Buzz and Deke are firing into the mist know, in the general direction of the explosion. Actually, everyone is. I consider telling them to stop wasting ammo, but decide some suppressing fire couldn't hurt at this point.

Stage blares the wagon's horn as we plow through the wreckage of the bike. Fully committed now.

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

Baby, the Chopper
Cool +1| Hard +2 |Hot +1 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
XP: 3/5 | Barter: 0 | Armor: 1 | Injuries: Bleeding


I snatch the bottle and push Navarro-bro over on his rear end, much to the amusement of the rest of the Brotherhood. Tuna-sis starts to raise her bottle in a toast, but sees the look in my eye. She’s been with me since before we pledged, and knows somethin’s up. I drain the bottle, the burn of fermented cactus juice and the metallic aftertaste that’s been dogging me all morning kicks over my brain. Of course the Brothers and Sister don’t know where I was, because it was a secret, a

secret meeting Hedge-bro is whispering in my ear, a meeting that if we can get proof of will free us from The Boss for good. I toast the newly canonized Woot-sis and leave the rest of the Brotherhood to celebrate with Navarro-bro’s bounty. Hedge-bro and I set up our stakeout in the CVs, waiting for. Waiting for…

gently caress, its gone. But I’m closer, and puts me in a good enough mood to take the soft touch with the Sworn Brotherhood. I smash the bottle on a nearby pipe and fire the fucker’s revolver into the air *BANGBANGBANG* The cheers and celebrations die, and several Brothers drunkenly reach for weapons.

“Listen up Brothers and Sisters! Hedge-bro rides the Skyway now, he got himself iced saving my life! Seems the bitch Ironmonger has decided to declare war on the Sworn Brotherhood, and she’s already made the first move! I need every Jack and Jill sobered up and ready to bring the pain! For Hedge-bro, and for the Sworn Brotherhood!” A fresh pain in my hip reminds me of the other memento of the morning. “And someone bring me some MOTHERFUCKING BANDAGES!”


(loving Thieves!: 2d6+2 10
*Someone has some, or close enough

Not sure if breaking up the party like this triggers Pack Alpha, I can roll it if you think so)

inklesspen
Oct 17, 2007

Though they carry nothing forth with them, yet in all their journey they lack nothing. For wheresoever they come, they be at home.


Buglord

Hurricane
The Touchstone | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp 0 | Weird-1
XP ●○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor


It's a fine day, really. Aside from the gunshot, and the fire, and Sam-Slam laughing at me, and Shannone being an untrustworthy snake, it's a lovely day.

I close my eyes for just a moment, and the future is there, writ in burning flame, emanating from Malkuth, the Kingdom. It's burstingexplodingdetonating, and when I open my eyes again, I see that explosion ahead of me. Time to go see the future made manifest. I catch up with the Cosmonuts as they drive single-file toward the Strip. I've drunk with Telemetry and Ride before, but it's Strongarm that I swing in behind. He shouts something that I can't make out over the noise and this technical has no radio, so I just wave to him and raise my rifle in salute.

Tevery Best
Oct 11, 2013

Poland can, like, totally into space!


Noam

The Hocus | Cool+0 | Hard+1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+2
XP ●○○○○» | 1-armor | 0:00 harm

"I take it that you mean they are drugged to nigh-unconsciousness." Ethawel merely snickers, nodding. As useful as he is, I do detest him sometimes; his "just business" attitude to everything is off-putting. Our business is good, however, which is how I know him to be fairly trustworthy - no reason to put a good trading partner under. The Cosmonuts, by and large, do not lend themselves to scholarly life. They enjoy killing, dying and getting high at great velocities. Even in a stupor, with their minds trained on non-standard perceptions, they are unlikely to become interested in what the Institute has to offer.

What concerns me more is that he said they are about to move, and it is clear that in the value plane the only direction Gagarin's End can move is to war. That much is apparent.

The danger is obvious, and I must keep an eye out.

And if nothing happens after all, at least I can get some samples of their sociolect. Perhaps it would be good enough for a paper, as intriguing as their discourse is.

"Let us depart-t."

As I walk by the door, Tek looks to me, her eyes filled with hope and anxiety. I grab a faculty member I catch by the door finishing his breakfast, and tell him to look after her. She is not to be touched or questioned until I come back, nor she can leave the building.

We board Ethawel's little van. He uses the rear as a drug lab, and it stinks to high hell. No matter. We set out for Gagarin's End. Hopefully I'll be back in good time.

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

"This isn't your day Tahoe." Key shoves the man in the direction of Blok. Blok had his reasons for worrying about monkey business. I had a habit of dealing unfairly with him. If he wasn't such a dumbass, then I'd probably not take advantage of him. Not to mention the dud was a hypochondriac, which meant that I'd sell him useless remedies for sicknesses in his head. Since I was the most reliable healer around these parts, he didn't have many alternatives to me.

"There you go Blok. I'll treat you square. All I want is to get to my meeting. Ain't got any reason to get on your bad side today. " Key got back into Tahoe's ride. It was a lovely situation for Tahoe, but the fucker ought to be more careful about what deals he makes. If he dealt with everyone fairly, then he wouldn't be in such a lovely situation.

Assuming there's keys in the vehicle and nothing else goes wrong, Key is going to drive to the Queen of Clubs and fulfill his end of the deal.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Director Redstone, after some rear end in a top hat-clenching moments you realize there's no more mines. That means, of course, they had at least one rocket. Such a shame to be launching them horziontally and intentionally detonating them, no? The smoke does begin to clear, and you see Big Lowe's combat rigs screaming out towards you. Small trucks, mostly, but heavily armed, nearly every one of them has a mg of some sort on it. Bullets start flying; one of Big Lowe's trucks flies out of control and tumbles into the thickening mud, and Tether gets completely ripped to shreds, but that's small potatoes. You see the backbone of Big Lowe's defense, the Gun Rig - a full-length eighteen-wheeler, freshly painted with Big Lowe's golden star. The thing is a full broadside of heavy mgs and maybe even some tubes; the engine roars and the lights come up, and his crew starts training the guns. What do you do? By default, you're going to be acting under fire, but we can talk about it.

Hurricane, Strongarm finishes yelling something at you and Roosa acknowledges you with a smig salute of her own, and then there's the nearly-imperceptible slowdown of the war convoy. Yes, the Cosmonuts are balls-to-the-wall, and not the type to back down. But you know as well as anyone, that in the face of a large threat, there's a reflex, an impulse to shy away. It's nearly gone before it starts, but you notice it. From your vantage point, and through the mud spattering on your goggles, it's hard to tell exactly what caused them to let off the accelerators, if only for a moment. What do you do?

Baby-Boss, your call to arms is met with racous cheering, and one or two echoings of your sentiments, along the lines of "gently caress that bitch," more or less. A couple engines rev right up. Sure, sobering up might be a tall order, especially for Navarro, who slips getting up and eats more poo poo, to the continued laughter of many. "Which fuckin' way are we riding, Boss," an enthusastic Frinky asks. "Yeah!" Dormont seconds, and Z-Man hands you a piece of gauze (still sealed, hot drat!) and a piece of duct tape. How do you respond?

Tek's eyes fall as you essentially ignore her, Rector, especially as she realizes that perhaps waiting is even worse than immediate censure. Biologist Flay accomodates your request to proctor the student, who returns to a seated position, hands folded. You, on the other hand, maintain a much less well put-together posture as Ethawel's van bumps and slides in the mud, though he seems fairly used to the situation, and you hear little jostling from the rear - everything must be neatly strapped down. As you approach Gagarin's End, even from a ways out, Ethawel looks concerned. Mildly, of course, but the man does not show much emotion. "A storm," he says. "A storm always triggers changes," he says. Do you know what he's talking about? How do you respond?

"All right, Key, go on," Blok spits back as he slams his visor closed. After a bit of commotion, Tahoe is gagged and stuck on the back of one of the other outrider's bikes. You head back to the truck and fire the engine back up. That gas meter's looking mighty low, but you should probably be able to make it. At least, Tahoe thought he'd be able to and he knows this thing pretty well. So you take off, and the outriders flank you, alternating positions like they know what they're doing. They're behind you, but they never let you feel comfortable, or really leading the pack. So, Key, any idea what the Queen of Clubs wants with you?

inklesspen
Oct 17, 2007

Though they carry nothing forth with them, yet in all their journey they lack nothing. For wheresoever they come, they be at home.


Buglord

Hurricane
The Touchstone | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp 0 | Weird-1
XP ●○○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor


A fragment of scripture comes to mind: Ride, ride to ruin and the world's ending! But the dune buggy too is ending, the needle hovering on the blood-red E. I take advantage of the convoy's hesitation to pull alongside Strongarm's technical and climb on board. He's holding his halftrack near the back of the convoy, but I clap him on the arm in excitement. "The future's being written up ahead; let's go be a part of it," I urge him onward.

Roosa's got her gun aimed toward the heart of the storm. She's battle-crazed and ready for anything. With Strongarm driving and Roosa ready to shoot whatever comes our way, I take stock of what we've got in the vehicle: guns, ammo, anything else that might be of use. We're coming up on it, whatever it is, and I wanna be ready.

Indomitable (going into battle): 2d6+2 10
XP ●●○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 3-hold (Indomitable)

inklesspen fucked around with this message at Mar 29, 2016 around 02:40

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

Driving along, he wondered what the Queen of Clubs would want with him. If it was medical aid, then someone was dying. Or poo poo got bad for one of the face cards of the Royals. Since they sent Tahoe after him, he figured it was probably not about some immediate medical emergency. Considering the seething cauldron of discontent between the various gang and war lords around these parts, he thought it was possible that the Queen wanted to pin down his allegiance. Key didn't know exactly which way the Royals leaned, but they probably heard about him talking with Colonel Crocker and wanted to know if that would be a problem. Someone like the Queen is probably preparing for poo poo to go down and she wants to know the lay of the land before she makes her move. That would be a real sound move for her. He wasn't sure if he was important enough as an Angel to merit the invitation and ride to her though. It seemed as if there was something more here. She wasn't just looking to have Key pledge his medical services to her, no it would have to be something else.

He remembered years ago, back when he wandered the wastes. He worked for whatever warlord paid him. Often times he would be employed to end battles quick by beheading the opposition. In the fog of war it was hard keeping track of people and he would use that to get behind the front lines. He'd find a leader of the enemy force. Not always the top person, but someone very important. Key would kill that person. Up close and personal so everyone knew that death could find them any where they go. When the enemy saw what happened, they were more inclined to discuss terms. One time back then he had worked for the Cards gang. They nicknamed him the "Ace of Spades."

Was that gang somehow connected to this Royals bunch? Back then the leader was the Queen of Spades. The Royals were led by Killmeister now. Maybe the Queen got deposed? Still even if it was the same group, would they know or remember who Key was from back then?

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


Director Redstone
The Hardholder | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird-2
XP ●●○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


I ignore the hail of steel around me, trying to cut through the chaos of battle to see the most critical factor. Work the problem. As soon as the Gun Rig starts up, though, that factor is blindingly obvious.

Buzz is hammering away at anything headed for us, and Laika is taking more considered shots, picking off drivers and shooters. I can hear but not see Deke; he's on the other side, hollering and working one of the broadside weapons.

I drop back down next to Stage, and point over her shoulder at the Gun Rig. "RAMMING SPEED!" She looks at me for a second, purely stunned. Seems even Stage has a limit to how far she'll push the envelope. gently caress that. We're all the way outside it now, and the only way out of the flatspin is to ride it all the way down.

I haul the wheel around and push Stage's foot the floor with my own, and brace for impact.

Spending hold to get my gang to make a hard advance.

Also, at this point the gang of Cosmonuts I brought with me is Meidum sized [4-harm gang medium unruly 1-armor].

Seize By Force [+Hard]: 2d6+2 6
gently caress. It'd be nice to get higher than a 3 on one of these dice at some point.

inklesspen
Oct 17, 2007

Though they carry nothing forth with them, yet in all their journey they lack nothing. For wheresoever they come, they be at home.


Buglord

Hurricane
The Touchstone | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp 0 | Weird-1
XP ●●○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 3-hold (Indomitable)


The Cosmonuts' vehicles spread out now, giving that fuckoff big truck a straight line toward Redstone's battlewagon. I grab Strongarm's shoulder again and point. "Your Director needs you! Get in there and show everyone you've got what it takes!"

assist Redstone: 2d6+0 3

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

Baby, the Chopper
Cool +1| Hard +2 |Hot +1 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
XP: 3/5 | Barter: 0 | Armor: 1 | Injuries: Bleeding


I fist-bump Z-man-bro and set about rebandaging the wound. “Brothers and Sisters, we ride on The Strip, gonna put on a show! Sound and Lights! Let all the fuckers know we ain’t afraid of the Queen Bitch or her shooters! And if we find any fuckers wearing her colors, we introduce them to Mr. Curb!” Something simple to keep them focused while the booze burns out of their systems. No use riding on the Steel Guard while juice out of our minds.

“Woot-sis, you’re with me! There’s a dead fucker’s bike on The Strip that has your name on it! Frinky-bro, strap the Boozemaster General here into your sidecar, wouldn’t want him falling out and missing the fun! Everyone else, gather your poo poo, dunk your heads, and gear up! The Brotherhood rolls out in 5!

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Hurricane, at your encouragement, Strongarm chops one arm over his head, signaling to the driver. Roosa grips a roll bar, and Strongarm barely has time to shout at you to hold the gently caress on before the truck picks up speed. The kind of speed that only the Cosmonuts can achieve. The kind of speed that only comes from igniting a loving god damned rocket engine. Strongarm's arms strain at the force and his rifle nearly levitates behind him, slung around his shoulders. Roosa's grin is maniacal. The wind is incredible. The rain hurts where you skin is exposed - and before you know it you're at the head of the pack, then well out in front, and then...

Key, you reach the Strip without further incident, but there is definitely some serious poo poo and outright battle going down on the outskirts of Big Lowe's side of the Strip. On one hand, the Queen of Clubs is set up just about in the neutral area, which is good, but it's a lot closer to the action than somewhere on Colonel Crocker's side. On the other other hand, it seems like Crocker's Army is rousting about a bit farther across the line than they had been the last time you were in town. Maybe that's a direct reflection of whatever the gently caress is going on out there. Either way, the moment you step out of the truck it's fuckin' gone, Blok and the outriders have a way with vehicles, don't they? They get to drinking and slapping the hell out of Tahoe, but that fades away the minute you step into the Deck - the Queen of Clubs' sign marks the door clearly. Her shop has various knicknacks and electronica hanging around, and someone you don't recognize is haggling. The Queen of Clubs shoos him out the door when she sees you, and when you're alone, she says simply, "Hello, Ace. Violent day out there isn't it?" How do you respond?

Director Redstone, your Cosmonuts show no sign of slowing or fear. What they do show signs of is rapidly replacing body parts with high-velocity chunks of lead, as the Gun Rig just rakes your advance. Stage complains that Engine 2 is hosed, and O-Ring crawls out with a wrench in one arm and a shield in the other and a gas can in his teeth. One of your smaller rigs tumbles away into the mud; you can't see who was in it but they can't be doing well. Leonov, from a truck to your left, nails a couple of the gunners with his rifle, but the crack shot soon falls to pieces under the onslaught. O-Ring gives Stage a thumbs-up before the light leaves his eyes as well, too rapidly. Stage says fuckit and pulls a lever, and the war shield comes crashing down. Built by Zenon back at Gagarin's End, it's a nasty steel plate that lets your rig ram nearly anything, but leaves you with only a few slits to see through. The Gun Riggers' shots thud into the shield, but don't penetrate. One of your rocket trucks whooshes by; someone not wearing your colors is holding on to the back? Maybe it will slam home and disrupt the Riggers long enough for you to take advantage, but as is the nature of rocket trucks - it explodes prematurely. Then another explosion. This time, it's the driver's side door blowing away, and with it, most of Stage's body. They must have gotten another launcher in position, those fuckers. With nobody living's hands on the wheel and the mud, the rig begins to slide out of control, and before you can wrest the wheel back under your command, the thing rolls. And then...

Baby-boss your gang jubilantly rides on the Strip, where in the not-too-far distance you can see a loving shitshow going on. Z-Man rides the front of a column, feeling good about himself. Woot rides second in his column, which seems kinda high for a new Sister, but columns are columns. You're feeling kinda boozy yourself, the ride will be good to shake it off - whatever was in that bottle was some fuckin' go-juice for sure. When you get to the Strip, you're somwhwere in the neutral area, and you meet up with your Fringe outriders! Blok's crew seems to have found something out there all right...a truck and a prisoner? What? And just as the main gang is (mostly) starting to sober up, the outriders are pretty goddamn drunk. No sign of Ironmonger or any Steel Guard yet. What do you do?

Hurricane, you're flying through the god damned air, blown up by a faulty loving rocket truck and you can tell, you can just loving tell you've got chunks of that loving truck and rocket engine lodged in your back and arms. Arms. At least you're likely to keep them. That's more than you can say for Director Redstone. You spot her lying in the mud as you're starting to fall. She's twisted up pretty good, but that left arm of hers is under that steel shield - if it's even still attached. You realize you're getting closer, as your arc brings you nearer to the ground, and to the Director. You lock eyes for just a second, and then your heads collide and the lights go out for you both, settling into the mud and the blood.

---
Hurricane:
Seriously Scary poo poo: 8: http://orokos.com/roll/387796
Hurricane Chooses Bleeding Heavily, Out of Action
MC Chooses You're a Mess

Director Redstone:
Seriously Scary poo poo: http://orokos.com/roll/387802
Redstone Chooses Out of Action,
MC Chooses Limb Cut Off, You're a Mess

Cosmonuts: Suffer 3-Harm (widespread injuries, many serious, several fatalities)
Leader is absent, but will hold together.


God. drat.

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

Key

Cool +3| Hard +0 |Hot +1 | Sharp +1 | Weird -1
XP: 1/5 | Barter: 0 | Armor: 2 | Injuries: None


He left the keys to the vehicle in the ignition. No reason to antagonize the outriders. Of course it didn't seem like he'd have much of a chance to do anything else, since they blew like the wind. That didn't matter to him anymore, his mind went to more important matters.

Standing on the porch, he sized her up. Not that he was thinking of getting violent, but old habits die hard. Back in the day, he considered everyone a potential opponent. When she called him Ace, he lifted his head slightly as a way of acknowledging what she said.

"Some people, all they know is violence. They pay the cost of their ignorance with their own blood." He looked over towards where the fighting was happening. Although he gave up being an Angel, he couldn't just not feel somewhat obligated to go and to see if anyone needed fixing up.

"I thought I was beyond that myself. Tried to be something different. Now I'm back to it. I'm guessin' that's why you asked me here? You thinking of hiring me or just killing me to make sure I don't become a problem for you? Either way, I hope we can make this quick. I think there's gonna people who need me to prevent death instead of causing it." He spoke with no fear and his posture made it clear that he wasn't making any threats. He would deal with whatever the Queen had planned with the same calm demeanor.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

Hurricane, Director Redstone, the Maelstrom knows. The battle still rages around your unconscious and broken bodies, but the Maelstrom wants. You are floating through a void, no way to tell which way is up or which way is blood. Psychically bound to each other, back to back, two sides of the same meaty coin. The taste of love, the smell of hate, the color of war, the sound of the future yet to come swirls through you, interlocking. This is probably both closer than the two of you have ever been, and probably the farthest away as well. The Maelstrom compels. Hurricane, what secret will the Director learn from you? Director, what secret will Hurricane learn from you? And will you feel better having shared your skullspace?

Best regards

Tevery Best
Oct 11, 2013

Poland can, like, totally into space!


Noam
The Hocus | Cool+0 | Hard+1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+2
XP ●○○○○» | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


"A storm. A storm always triggers changes."

It does not take a wise man to notice the connection. Whenever a war party walks, it leaves behind a column of smoke and sand, covering the world and hiding their evil from it, and the result always means things change. A dust storm ruins the fields, and starving ghosts roam the plains for days, weeks, months - and die. A hurricane goes over a town and carries the shacks away.

But that's not what he means. He means the other storm that comes with horrors like these; with death, battle, mutilation, fires and disasters. He's been there, he can feel it coming. So can I.

I motion for him to halt the car. We''re near Gagarin's End anyway, and it is definitely safer to take what's coming when you don't have to drive through it.

I hear him pop open a pill bottle. I don't need such things, I've studied this for so long. I close my eyes, lean back, reach into the pocket and pull out a notebook and pencil.

Opening the mind to the storm: 2d6+2 6

I wait for the words, and they never come. I hear shouts, and noise, and terror. I see an empty sequence of emotions, dispersed of their proper context, hailing from parts unknown, and never meant for me. They arrive, and they leave something behind.

I don't hear the screams of the dying, ripped to shreds merely a few hills away.

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe

Baby, the Chopper
Cool +1| Hard +2 |Hot +1 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
XP: 4/5 | Barter: 0 | Armor: 1 | Injuries: Bleeding


We roll into the Strip honking and waving our colors, but it pales in comparison to that shitshow happening in the background. As we pull up to Blok-bro’s little show, from between the buildings I see a bigass fuckin’ warbeast go barrels-over-carbs, the crunch of metal audible over the distance. “Holy mother-poo poo, that is some fuckin’ poo poo! Dormont-bro! Take a pack and scout the edges of that poo poo. I don’t want it sneaking up on us, and maybe some good poo poo will get left behind. Stay low and frisky, I want news not flash.”

Dormont-bro grins and rolls out, Frisky-bro and Janie-sis falling in line. Blok-bro and I arm-clasp and he explains the situation in a low voice. I nod and give him a nod and a grin for doing well. I turn to the sniveling man in the mud, and jerk my head to the outriders standing over him and the pull him up to his knees. I drag over a bucket and sit down on it, twitching the long tails of my boss-jacket up out of the muck. I smile, all nice and friendly-like at Tahoe the runner-man.

“So Tahoe, my Brother Blok here says that you tried to gently caress us.” He starts blubbering but I cut him off with a quick wave of my hand. “Yeah, yeah, times are tough, I know. But you should have hosed someone else and dealt straight with the Brotherhood. Which is why your wheels are forfeit. But!” I cut him off again with a raised finger. “But if you prove useful to me and tell me what I want to know I’ll consider the wheels, info, and the beating my Brothers gave you on the way here Steven Even. So Mr. Runner-man, I know you run poo poo for everyone, and I know everyone has a place on the Strip to front with others. So where oh where Tahoe, is the place Ironmonger’s folks hang when they come to the Strip?

I twirl my crowbar lazily, smiling wide when he sees the fairly-fresh blood and bits of skin on the hook.

(Going Aggro on Tahoe (poor fellow) to get Ironmonger-related info from him. Get Info from Tahoe (Go Aggro): 2d6+2 12)

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


Director Redstone
The Hardholder | Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird-2
XP ●●○○○» | 1-barter | 1-armor | 0:00 harm


A secret...

In the distance, a great pillar of smoke and fire divides the sky in two. Two women stand atop a small rise, watching the burning spear at the top disappear into the blue.

"Do you still doubt me, Colonel?" Redstone demands, bluntly.

Crocker is silent for a moment, then turns to face the Director. "Yes. But even if you've doubled it's payload and tripled its range, it would still be worth the getting. How many can you give me?"

"Four, in total. It will be some time while they're being built. And none until you make good on your own promises. The uplink. The Satellite."

"Yes. If you deliver, I'll turn it - and all the pictures we've gotten from it - over to you." Crocker holds out a hand. After a moment, Redstone reaches out and shakes it. "I think this will be a fruitful arrangement, Director."

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Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty

"No, Key, I'm just going to do a little show and tell." The Queen of Clubs reaches under her counter and pulls out two velvet bags. From the first, she reaches in and pulls something into her fist, blows on it like a gambler, and rolls them onto the surface. "Very good," she observes, as you identify four human phalanges skittering across the table. "Very good." From the second bag she retrieves three pictures. One is a nice card, the others are less elegant, torn out a magazine or other fragment. No matter. She lays them out and stares at you as her eyes return from their rolled-back position. "The Cloud," she announces, drawing your attention to the faded image of a man in a blue military outfit and an impractically large blade. Next she calls "The Ashen Lady," referring to the dingy but definitely pre-apocalypse bar. Finally, a simple pile of coins. "The Golden Hoard," she concludes. "This all makes a lot of sense. First of all, Killmeister is unacceptable. His short-term gains for the Royals are undeniable, but his burn rate is not sustainable. He rules by lethality and fear, not respect." Her tone is all business. "So what we see here is the Cloud has obvious parallels to our former Ace," she continues as she gestures to your kukri, "but there are other parallels, especially with the Ashen Lady. This indicates a person that needs to confront their past, perhaps giving up their vows? in order to make sense of the present. I think that fits you quite well, no?" How do you respond?

RECTOR FUCKIN NOAM what seriously did you think could come of this but ill you indolent false professor of words and deeds when their exists a power such that none can control it or even hope to understand it you claim to even approach understanding why don't you spend some time in letters and circles and maybe try some guns and drugs but really son why bother even doing that your existence is meaningless in the face of storms and even in the clear of sun or mind there's nothing set aside for you no carve-out in the mud and the blood and the minds and the binds and the brains and the chains your school is just a dream why don't you ..."WAKE THE gently caress UP," comes the command from a Cosmonut. You're somewhere on Gagarin's End, and Ethawel is nowhere to be seen and there's some rather angry people around you. "The gently caress are you doing here," comes a growl from another, and you hear a shotgun being racked. What do you do?

Baby-Boss, Tahoe is having an extremely loving bad day, and you're not helping. He really only has one response beyond closing his eyes and trying to shrink as much as possible. He has only one thing to do, and that's answer your question with another. "Who the gently caress is Ironmonger?" He's pretty whacked up at this point. If he knew, he'd tell you. But what are you going to do now?

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