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Like all good stories, this one starts with a gunshot. But you weren't there for that bit. It''s a beautiful day in New Angeles. It's the middle of the summer, and the temperates are intolerable no matter what half of the city of you live in. The upper half of the city is blasted by the sun, gleaming off the arcologies and high rises. The undercity sweats from the factories and the humid air. Grumbling is high amongst the average joe, bioroids need to pause more often to cool down, and you all wish for a cool drink whilst you work at your jobs. --- Harry Suzuki It's not often Mr Li comes down to your chopshop in person. He usually sends some suit to talk numbers, and that's it. That, or he sends some tattooed, stimmed up jackhole to try and bully you, as if they haven't been told about the arrangement. he goes through the latter people quickly. You're in the middle of work, about to remove some poor streetbanger's kidneys, when he comes into your dingy operating theatre. He's not in gloves or gown - the lights stutter over his suit and his homely, almost non-threatening features. The two hefty suits next to him do the threatening for him. "Apologies." Mr Li's voice is smooth and calm. Bad sign. "I know you''re doing good work here, Mister Suzuki. I have some... questions to ask." He walks over to the single stool in the corner of the room and sits. His bodyguards don't move. "Joshua B is dead." Emotion flicker briefly in the triad leader's voice. "Someone shot him. Nobody can tell me who, so, unfortunately, I have to go through the supply chain and see if perhaps someone had the wrong impression about how this... company works. Tell me, when was the last time you had contact with him?" Huh. Joshua's dead. poo poo. --- Yoshika Xiahou It's not the first time you've been in the back of a hopper, and not the first time you've been in the company of a lot of armed men, but this is the first time you've been in the company of both. On directions from Mr Li, and with a little persuasion to your crooked cop friends, you're going to bust some streetbangers who've, somehow, got their hands on weapons they shouldn't have. Argus Security models. But they won't be taken back to police custody, oh no - the 14K would very much like a little extra firepower, and the NAPD would be grateful for the dissapearance of another gang. Mutual partnership. The other cops eye you suspiciously - they know you're there to negotiate, hopefully ending this without shots fired, but you look very very conspicuous next to the heavily armed SWAT team. Lois Blaine, his face almost unrecognisable behind the layers of armor and cloth, has his gaze on you. "You gonna be okay?" he asks over the earpieces. Privately directed at you. The silly man feels something for you, supposedly. Oh dear. --- Hermes You enjoy looking at the city from above. It's a contrast to your lovely apartment in the undercity, all gleaming and full of promise. Also, the sunlight keeps you awake, along with the caffiene pills. You take your hopper through the skylanes, flaunting the rules as much as possible without causing havoc (who has time to wait in line anyway?) as you head for Rutherford. Some bribe to some ristie is in the back - you didn't bother to check what was in the bag. Money, drugs, a folded-up Eve. Could be anything. Not your place to know. Kati let you know something over the horn recently. NAPD's going crazy. Some celebrity went missing, or something. The public loves her, and by god the public wants her back. They won't be happy till she is. And NBN definitely wants a big earner safe and sound. Something to look out for, anyway. You're heading for the arcology when, below you, you spot a blob of NAPD traffic. It's not headed back to the station, you can tell that much. The jet-black hoppers seem to be moving quite deliberately, in some kind of search pattern. They could be looking for you - but they've started on a way lower floor and are working upwards. Maybe not you. Do you even wanna take that chance? Looking like a delivery truck's only gonna hold out for so long, and your driving style's not... inconspicuous right now. --- Jose Esteban You're taking a little time off. Mr Li's got no jobs down the pipeline for you right now, so you're enjoying whatever passes for breakfast at a lovely portable fast food joint. There's hustle and bustle around you, as always - people just trying to get wherever they gotta go. You wish there was a little more neon down here. A scratchy 3DTV shows the NBN news channel on a loop. "...top story. International celebrity and popstar Miranda Rhapsody has gone missing and is presumed kidnapped whilst on tour. The New Angeles Supernova tour has been cancelled after the 24 year old went missing ..." Lily Lockwell's pumping out the details with relish, but you don't care. Who cares 'bout some two-credit pop star? Well, the man next to you seems to. He studies the news a little too intently, in a dark, fancy suit that doesn't match the clothes of everyone else here. Thankfully he's got no shades or the image would be really complete. Behind him, a bioroid stands to attention, staring blankly into the near distance. It's a bulky Frank model, utilitarian and ugly. The man turns to you, and you see sharp features trying to put a casual grin together. "Nosies, huh?" he says.
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Dec 16, 2016 16:17
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| # ? Apr 18, 2024 10:55 |
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Jose Esteban Man. I've seen that face on billboards. She's missing huh. Quickly, to the Caremometer. What's that? It's at two Kelvin? Impressive. Not since the newest ritzy fashion show did we reach such astounding depths of not caring. I chew the breakfast, something resembling meat between something resembling bread while trying not to taste too much. Well, Lily Lockwell's on the case it seems. If he did hear something, that would be worth a favour probably. Alright, for Lily's sake we'll care a little, tiny bit. Guy next to me does care. Of course I'm aware of him. Ritzy looking suit with a metal golem along with him in this part of town. He had most eyes on him the moment he came in. And with this news only slightly more fresh than the ingredients of this breakfast. If a guy came here trying his best to make me dislike him, they'd probably approach this one. Except maybe with some douchy little napkin in his pocket. Or unless he insults people I kind of like. "Nosies huh?" Oh, well, scratch that of the list. Alright, Lily is a nosy, nosy as nosy can be. But she's giving it all for her job, and putting in the work, taking on the dangers, like talking to the likes of me. I respect that. I turn to him, and there' no smile on my face. "Only thing worse is ritzy assholes slumming it accompanied by their tin can babysitters." I don't give the bioroid a look. Never get angry at the thing when you can get angry at its owner instead. Your job was killed using a gun, but in the end, while you might want to break his guns, you gotta put the blame at the gunman. Lots of folks with a hammer and anger and not enough sense forget that. I take another bite of the burger. Making sure to chew it enough to give him a nice and charming sight of the food turning even more unappetizing as it's being chewed I ask. "What do you want?" quote:Engineer, Soldier, Criminal
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Dec 16, 2016 17:35
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The Deleter posted:Huh. Joshua's dead. poo poo.  Harry Suzuki Harry, both arms elbow deep in his current job, barely looks up at Mr. Li's entry; good work requires a steady hand, and a steady hand requires focus, even when your criminal boss shows up out of the blue. Hell, especially when your criminal boss shows up out of the blue. He pauses, though, when Li mentions Joshua B. They weren't close or anything, but Josh wasn't the kind of guy you pictured getting popped. He did reliable work, and he was discreet about it, even if he couldn't shut up about how good he was at it. It didn't make sense to just take him out. 'Course, that was part of the risk, running in these circles; violent people tend to get violent even when it doesn't make sense. "Didn't know you had a stake in Josh." Returning to rooting around for the kidney's remaining blood vessels, Harry shrugs. "Last time I saw him was probably a month back. Had some leftovers starting to take up space in the fridge, so I passed 'em on to him." He glances up at Li as he mentions the sale. Their... agreement didn't say anything about Harry doing his own business on the side. There'd never been trouble about it before, and Harry didn't exactly take pains to conceal it, so he'd always assumed Li at least saw it as within acceptable behavior. But now, with these two suit-wearing toughs covering the door, and Li coming down personally... Inside the banger, Harry's grip tightens on his blade. quote:Doctor, Courier, Bodyguard
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Dec 16, 2016 17:41
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Deanna "Hermes" Nakatomi A missing celebrity? The rich and famous go off on their own all the time. The public makes a big hullabaloo about it, then they just come back because they went on a drat vacation or something. Well, at least it's something that keeps the pigs off my back. Or at least, that'd be true if there wasn't a big ol' pork plate dashing around right below me. Probably lookin' for that famous girl. If they were after me, they'd probably have noticed my driving already. Still, best not to draw any attention with so many around. Following all these traffic laws are gonna keep me up, though. Maybe Kati knows a bit more. I quickly key her contact info in and connect to her. "Yo, Kati. Lotta police activity around my area. Know what the gently caress's going on? This can't all be because of some starlet." quote:Courier, Pilot, Escort
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Dec 17, 2016 22:37
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Yoshika I have my eyes glued to my pda while I am escorted. Despite all these cops here for when it doesn't happen I am still supposed to set up a deal. And it has me thinking of money. And whenever I think about money coming and going I have to check my own finances. It's all carefully cultivated. I actually learned the trick from Segia. I still have no idea why she bothered, but she loaded her credit history with fake transactions. Taught me how to do it so we could "take shifts" on it and not have a predictable pattern. It's actually really easy to trick the system, just make a bogus seller and send yourself the money. I guess they never fixed the loop hole because it's pointless. You can't yank credits from the aether with it. All it does it clog up your history. But that's very useful for me. I need more than the nice suits to pass for an actual high roller. It also helps me get into the correct mood. Seeing all the dumb bullshit I supposedly own. Why bother making half of this garbage? I don't need to wrack my brain to imagine the type of spoiled bitch who would own such egregious convenience gadgets. Unconsciously I already have the same swagger as Seiga's friends I had to entertain. That's when Louis speaks up. He's in a good mood it seems. "I'm in good company so it'll be fine. So what's the details on the plan?" quote:Yoshika-7
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Dec 18, 2016 23:11
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Jose Esteban The sharp-faced man doesn't rise to your jibes. Instead he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. You see, for a single lurching microsecond, the straps and leather of a holster. "Heard you like smashing golems." The hand comes out with a PAD, a prepaid piece of crap. "Got a job for you." He slides it over. "HB are looking to ship some golems up the stalk. A few... concerned citizens in Heinlein would pay you pretty handsomely if that shipment didn't make it. I'm sure you could find a few people down here with similar views." The Frank model speaks up, voice smooth and inoffensive. "I must remind you that damaging a bioroid is an illegal act of Damage to Private Property, as set out by -" "Frank, off." The bioroid falls silent. The thin man turns to you. "Payment's three Kreds up front, double if you get the job done. How about it?" Harry Suzuki The bodyguards narrow their eyes, but Mr Li raises a hand and they settle down. "Hm. I did have... some stake in Joshua, it's true. Some of my best enforcers went to him for their modifications. His loss is bad for morale. It will be difficult to find a replacement for him, and the cost of importing from SanSan nowadays is... prohibitive, since the 23 Seconds." He taps a foot, thoughtfully. "I know you have history with some of the more accessible chrome parlours and organ donors in the city. I would like you to approach some of them and see if we can line up some replacements. You'll be paid for your missed work, of course, and a little extra. Is this something you can do?" Deanna "Hermes" Nakatomi Kati's voice sounds pensive. "Not sure. One sec." The "sec" is a few seconds too long. A police cruiser hovers right below you, shark-like. Hugging the traffic is a nightmare. "Okay, got it." Kati breaks the tension. "Police reports of some dude in the Gutenberg Arc gunning down bioroids. Nosies are saying cam footage of him shows him holding an assault weapon from Argus. Guess the cops are trying to find him without pissing off a corp or turning rush hour into a firework display. Stay high up, get away from them asap." The cruiser is still below you. He's been tailing you for a few seconds longer than a "casual check" would entail. Yoshika Xiahou "Plan's pretty simple." Louis seems calm. "You go in with a plainclothes or two. Negotiate in good faith, maybe get the weapons off of them. Mr Li still carries weight around here. If things go south, we come in and get rid of them. Nobody's gonna miss them, anyway. People will be happy to see the back of the Los Scorpiones around here." There's a few grunts and murmurs of assent in the police hopper. The NAPD are not fans of Los Scorpiones. The inverse is also true - constant gang wars and very messy methods of execution have made the Scorpiones very unpopular. Hopefully they won't do the same to you. You feel the hopper touch down with a bone-shaking bump, and the doors hiss open on ancient hydraulics. Outside, you can see a jumble of prefab homes and shanty buildings in rust brown, in he middle of what was once a plaza-level market. It looks dark - this makeshift base probably doesn't have much access to power or the Net.The police don't move - thumping down the ramps and all around would surely draw attention, even in a plain van like this one. Looks like it's your cue.
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Dec 21, 2016 16:58
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Jose Esteban I take the data slate, curiosity tempered by suspicion. "That's some pretty odd guard-dog you're keeping around, considering what you're asking me. You so trusting that Haas doesn't have something inside your golem that would expose this little bit of world improvement?" Or are you perhaps counting on it? Then again, why would a Haas plant trying to get me burned come in with a golem along with them. Could just be an idiot. In which case he could be an idiot Haas plant, or just an idiot guy who honestly wanted this. Probably not with the cause, but could just be they want to harm some other company that's supposed to get some bioroids. Which is just fine with me. Having one large corp fund the ruination of another one and discouraging the use of droids is just fine with me. "That said, let me take a look. See if I can do something for you." He'd prefer to handle this off the Beanstalk. Getting something done there was a lot harder, and brought a lot of heat, not because of the droids, but because you endangered the Beanstalk.
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Dec 29, 2016 02:53
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Deanna Nakatomi 'Well, poo poo. Looks like my cover's blown. Gotta make a little detour." I turn off from traffic at the first opportunity and attempt to make my escape in some side roads.
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Jan 10, 2017 18:24
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Yoshika Xiahou Right. I take out my throw away phone and send a message that I'm here for the deal. Obviously no one just rolls into the gutter flashing kreds for hardware. There's a whole set of hoops just to get them to open the door so they can tell you to piss off at the table. It really doesn't matter what elevation you're on organizations exist to jerk people around. And they don't message me a meeting place either otherwise we could just send the storm troopers there and save me some effort. They don't have trouble finding me. I'm not trying to blend in. The Los Scorpiones colors aren't exactly camouflage either. "This isn't going to take long, is it?" I say to the ganger meant to escort me to the meeting place.
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Jan 10, 2017 19:02
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Jose Esteban The suit nods and stands. "Good. Pleasure doing business with you." He makes a motion at the Bioroid, and it obediently follows him into the crowd. Your eyes follow him for as far as you can, but eventually they're lost amongst the press of people. The data slate, once you boot it up, only has a call function and a single text document sitting on the desktop. It's registered to a name you don't know, but almost certainty isn't the suit's. Checking the contacts list lists only "Emergencies only" as a number. Nice. The text document is just a time and a place in Base de Cayambe - somewhere where a lost truck of Bioroids is probably par for the course. It seems good. Too good. Deanna Nakatomi As you slip from the lane of traffic, the cop car raises up behind you. It doesn't flash its lights - odd, considering you've been buzzed over plenty of times to know procedure. You're starting to consider maybe trying something drastic when the hopper jerks fowards and rams into the back of your truck - not hard enough to send you the many, many stories to the hard earth, but enough to put the idea in your head. Police hopper is attempting to put "Shaken" on Deanna. Using Coax to put "Shaken": [2d6=4, 5] Rating of 5. How do you react? Pick the verb and use its rating, plus discharge push die for any helpful adjectives, objects, or tags you have, to meet 5 or more. Yoshika Xiahou The ganger - a Ecuadorian wearing a weird scrapbook of leather and synth materials - puts out her ciggaro and shrugs. Her face ripples with the blue lights of her tattoos. "Dunno. Depends on if you play nice or not." She gives a wicked grin. "C'mon, let's see the boss." She leads you through the makeshift village. The buzz of activity here is more noticeable - people are cooking street food, boasting about their accomplishments on street corners to anyone who will listen, bartering, dancing. It's like a tiny city inside the city. The air is thick with smoke and the smell of cooking meats. You could almost forget that almost everyone here is part of some of the most violent gangs in New Angeles. Well, almost. That guy there, with the knife, definitely wouldn't fit in anywhere else. The ganger escort pushes you through a curtain - the replacement for a door on a shisha joint. Inside reminds you of the history texts you've read about the Huns. Inside are men and women lazing around on beaten-up cushions and sofas, circled around the single tall pipes that are passed around. Acrid perfume fills the air, doing a poor job of covering up the stench of alcohol. Wonderful. Not your choice of joint, for sure. The leader of the Scorpiones clan here doesn't have a name, but he's clearly the leader, as he's the most dressed - ostentatious, but looking a little too padded to not be wearing some for of protection under the flamboyant outfit. The thick--set man is sitting in the nearest booth. He's surrounded by men and women who clearly work out and have no other legal hobbies. All of them regard you with suspicion. What do you say to him?
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Jan 14, 2017 18:30
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Harry Suzuki My grip relaxes the moment Li raises his hand. Even if his goons don't like it, none of them would dare disobey him to his face. And if they decide to come later behind his back, well, there's room in the deep freeze. But it's good to know that Li at least isn't bothered enough to kill me to my face. That's a bridge I can't afford to burn. I snip the last major artery from the kidney as Li asks about tracking down replacements. I can feel myself smirking before I even respond, not that any of them can see through the facemask. "Get paid extra to get out of this place and socialize for a while?" With a tug, I yank the kidney - and its embedded data drive - free. "Yeah, I guess I can do that." I contemplate throwing the kidney to one of the bodyguards - the drive would be protected by the meat, just as intended, if the idiot couldn't catch it - but decide now might not be the time to press my luck. Instead, I carry it to the nearby wash basin and start cleaning. "There's a couple names I can think of, might be able to take over Josh's workload," I say over my shoulder. "Not necessarily solo, but they won't be asking the kind of money Josh would, either. And some of them are even reliable." Li might prefer to have just one new face in the organization, but it'd be hard to find someone to replace Josh by themselves. He'll have to take what I can get. Plus, it'll be easier to slip away for a few hours to myself if he thinks I've got a lot of contacts to go through. The curiosity gnawing in my gut starts to get the better of me, though, as I put down the kidney to dry out before I try to get at the hardware. Stripping my gloves off, I turn around and pull my mask down. "So what exactly happened with Josh?" It's hopefully an inoffensive enough question; I ought to know what happened to the guy I'm trying to replace, if I'm gonna talk people into taking his old job. But there's clearly something Li isn't telling me, too, and in this business, what you don't know gets you shot in an alley and dumped into a recyc facility that knows not to ask too many questions. But Li knows that too. Even if he realizes I'm fishing, maybe he'll give me something. RandallODim fucked around with this message at 19:33 on Jan 14, 2017 |
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Jan 14, 2017 19:24
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Harry Suzuki Mr Li doesn't respond for a little while. His eyes are on your hands for a moment. "Joshua... may have upset the wrong people." His voice is as smooth as always. "He was not shot, so much as... gunned down. I think he may have made an enemy that was very powerful. Perhaps, walking through he saw someone where they should not have been. I don't know myself, for I cannot commune with the dead. But I can guess." Huh. He's given you... bait, anyway. Very, very snared bait. Mr Li stands. "I would advise you not to investigate. Unless, of course, you think you can succeed where Joshua failed." Ohhhhhkay. "I will leave the matter of sourcing our new doctors in your capable hands. Good luck." He leaves, but his bodyguards linger, just for a second, to cast eyes around the place. Make sure they're not missing anything. Not that they're going to find anything you've hidden, no siree. So, where to start? Know anyone that's a good place to go? And what on earth is in this guy's hardware, anyway? Freak must have been a splice addict.
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Jan 25, 2017 22:49
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Deanna Nakatomi Operate: 6 Undeterred by the car's threat, I pull a gambit and drop down a few feet, slowing down to try to get behind it. "Jesus, this is forceful even for the pigs!"
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Jan 25, 2017 23:10
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Harry Suzuki I smile, nod, and give a little wave to the bodyguards as they leave; condescending, sure, but that's kind of the point. Can't have Li or the muscle thinking they actually intimidate me or I'll never see the end of them, and it's enough of a bother dealing with the few that try it now. The fact that I actually don't respect them plays a part too, of course. Once I'm sure they've left, I set to work on the kidney, slicing away layers of scar tissue to get at the embedded drive's output jack. Whoever the guy was, he must've lived an interesting life; boring folk don't get bootleg stimsense recording packages, after all. Nobody buying Z-tapes wants to be a salaryman, or an engineer, or someone with a comfortable family life. If you're buying Zs, you're looking for the exciting side. You want the killers, the addicts, the folks living hard enough that you can't distinguish what's the speed and what's the adrenaline. And snuff like the kind this poor idiot's chest wounds indicate? poo poo, you can't put a price on good blackouts. Getting at a stimsense normally doesn't require a dead body, of course. Knock you out, cut you open, plug you in and sew you up, and all you've got to show for it is a scar to let the next guy know where to cut and a diminished blood filtration system because you still have a hunk of electronics sitting inside your kidney, you loving dumbass. It's harder when they're dead; failsafes engage, you've only got till the residual charge dies out, and all you're gonna wind up with is the final hours of buffer storage, but if you know what you're doing, like I do, and you've got a death worth archiving, like this guy did, it's only a bit harder than the norm, and so much more lucrative. The procedure itself being basically automatic at this point, I turn my thoughts to replacing Josh. There's a few people who could cover most jobs, with just certain specialty work needing additional contracting. La Luz in Rutherford's good, but her 'for the little people' crusade's the only reason she does undercity work anyway, so she probably wouldn't jump at the prospect of Triad employment. Shock Doc's stim habit makes him... unreliable at best, even if he'd be willing, or if Li would accept someone who operates with more drugs in themselves than the patient. Frank's gone dark, so he's probably out of the question. And that leaves... gently caress. That leaves loving 3-Arm, and he'll never let the "Tri-Arm" bit go if he's actually working for the Triads. I sigh as I plug the kidney into the download jack. If Josh had a bit of an ego, 3-Arm's is big enough that you could solve homelessness if you converted it to low-income housing. Idiot thinks because he has a tool arm mounted on his back he's suddenly god's gift to a surgical floor. And now I need to ask him for something. I'll never hear the god drat end of it. I lean against the ex-banger's bed and light a smoke as I evaluate what I have in my personal stash that would convince 3-Arm. And today was off to such a great start.
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Feb 2, 2017 23:49
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| # ? Apr 18, 2024 10:55 |
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Deanna Nakatomi You drop down and back. The pigs don't react quickly enough, and you're behind them before they can turn or slow up. You have the advantage now - what do you do? Harry Suzuki You ain't got much, but the thing that helps is that 3-Arm's ego makes him a little susceptible to flattery, So you got that, you guess. Then there's the various accumulations of tech bits and junk you've pulled out of bodies in the past. Maybe some of those are worth something to him. You got a handful of scrip stashed somewhere, but paper money is no good now unless its in the right circles. A few credsticks - but this favour can't just be bought. Maybe you could hit up Aesop for something, but that's always a long shot. Maybe you could give him the kidney. But that kidney would go anywhere - 3-Arm might love the idea of changing his name, but loyalty is non-existent until proven. He could sell that to anyone and keep the scrip for himself. But some kind of equal exchange would be a good start... And now you're on the streets, headed to 3-Arm's place, shouldering past the grifters and the low-level scum of the undercity as you go. The few news-screens that still work down here are blathering about some missing celebrity. Your minds on that rear end in a top hat. What are you gonna say when you get there? What have you got with you to convince him to join up? The Deleter fucked around with this message at 14:00 on Feb 23, 2017 |
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Feb 23, 2017 13:52
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