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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Done and done.


I've moved everyone but Sui forward again. I had been hoping for another post from Raven, but I made do without. There was some decent rolls made to get you this far, so good luck with the next posting!

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 18:10:50.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Inside the Facility, and Mallplex Trouble


Alleyway Just South of the New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 5:08pm

The pair parked the car in a back alley where a series of shipping flats could partially cover it from public view. As DigitalScribe stepped from the cockpit he instinctively hunched his shoulders against the fierce onslaught of the storm. Peering up at the swirling mass of pea soup clouds overhead he presented a disgusted expression and muttered something about the weather under his breath. Snatching his bag from the seat he turned and waited Guardian’s instruction.

The large bodyguard was intent on studying the street down which they’d come, the rain slicked tar snakes glistening beneath the pale yellow of the street lamp some twenty meters away. Without another word, Guardian proceeded down the alley back towards the main street.

Shouldering his bag, Frankie followed, his eyes scanning the street ahead for any sign of trouble. Things were getting out of hand what with the attack at the motel. He’d been in difficult scrapes before in his attempts to bring the Truth to the public concerning megacorps—hell, he’d been in dangerous scrapes just trying to get any story so he could eat! But this one had to top them all. In each incident he’d attempted to take on the megacorps in the past, he’d always had the backing of a studio so he couldn’t just be off’d as easy. This time, he had a couple of nomads, a buxom bounty hunter, a couple of fixers, and a bodyguard. The odds just weren’t as good. So, DigitalScribe felt more than a little paranoid as they stepped onto the street and made their way down the few blocks to the mallplex.

With the evening’s arrival and the storm clouds overhead, the street lamps were already ablaze, and those few people who were dumb enough to brave the weather (like them) were already heading for cover, splashing through the rivers of drainage overflow that threatened to choke the streets. Most were likely heading for some restaurant for dinner, home to their conapt for a lonely meal of kibble and a beer, or even to the mallplex itself, but none seemed interested in the large black man being escorted by the good-looking white boy which suited DigitalScribe just fine.

Reaching the mallplex doors, Scribe let Guardian lead the way. He was filled with anxiety over the possibilities of what awaited them in the business tower, and excited as well. If J.D. had done his job, they had their escape from this nightmare, and Scribe had a huge payout coming (something he desperately needed to keep Guardian on the books).

The warm air of the interior washed over them as they stepped into the entry hall. There were a group of juves hanging out there, pressed up against the walls in their leathers and retro clothing playing at dice and jostling each other, but Guardian’s presence gave them pause as the two men passed. The interior of the mall was an open gallery that rose up the height of the shopping area with stores lining the exterior and a nice balacony view of the interior. The mallplex’s populace liked to hang out around the fountain, and tonight was no different though the area was far more crowded than usual. Mall security didn’t knowingly allow any of the gangs into the building, but this didn’t stop the rowdy juves from congregating.

DigitalScribe stopped when Guardian did so, the larger man scanning the people for signs of trouble before proceeding to the right towards the elevators. The entry to the business towers was along the northern wall, and to the left, but DigitalScribe figured they were taking a roundabout path to better assess the area, so he followed without a word. Along the way they passed men wearing IconAmerica, women wearing practically nothing at all (one of the latest fashion trends included covering oneself in transparent plastic and wearing designer lingerie underneath), but nothing that Scribe noticed Guardian tensing over. Entering the elevator they proceeded to the third floor where Guardian was, once more the first to exit.

From there they made a slow circuit about the balcony, Guardian surveying the whole of the lower floors from a better vantage, eyeing the Samson ‘borg as it strolled like a behemoth across the floor where teens were making out on benches and mothers were pulling their children close. Standing back from the railing, Scribe peered about the walk they were on, noting the woman wearing a black leather jacket that was obviously armored, but only covered one fifth of her upper body revealing a good bit of her rather generous assets, the clerk standing outside Skinlight, the body cosmetics shop, hands thrust into his pockets eyeballing the same girl, and the suit walking into Gelbert’s World Information right next door, obviously oblivious to Guardian and Scribe’s presence. No one seemed to be paying them too much mind after a quick glance, though the beautiful girl did smile at Scribe dazzling him with her dimples and pearly whites. Smiling back, he nearly missed Guardian turning from the railing and heading towards the bridge entrance.

The bridge connecting the shopping levels of the mallplex with the business complex spanned the canal, and as it was covered with bowed, tinted SmartGlass™, it was now just showing the raging waters running the canal below and the rain pelting the glass. The city skyline beyond was washed and blurred by the beading rain, but it wasn’t here that Scribe was looking. He had his eyes on the business complex’s doors.

The same holographic receptionist greeted them as before, and Scribe went through practically the same motions to gain access to J.D.’s office. The pair made their way to the small, secluded office in silence, noting that the majority of those who’d been there previously were gone, their workspace cold and dark but for the pale glow of computer monitors, the flashing red lights of their office phone, and a few desk lamps shining false sunlight on cultured plant life. J.D., however, was there waiting for them.

“It’s about time!” he whined slowly rocking in his seat.

“Hey,” Scribe spread his hands wide. “A man’s busy, ya know? How’s it look?”

“You come barging in on my workday, manipulate our conversation to pay me pennies for the work I’m doing—“

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it pennies—“

“—And then you question the quality of my work? Screw you, Jumper!”

Scribe chuckled and held out his hand expectantly.

“Uh-uh,” J.D. shook his head causing his fat jowls to sway back and forth beneath his stubble-covered chin. “Money first.”

“Now who’s insulting who? Huh?” All the same, Frankie reached into his wallet and produced the bills. “All cash, Choomba. Nothing to trace.”

The look on J.D.’s fat face said he could care less for the cash, but he took it none-the-less. Only those on the wrong side of the law, or those wishing to keep their financial transactions secret, dealt in cash anymore. With a slow move that was definitely exaggerated, J.D. placed the disk that Scribe had given him earlier back into the media’s hands.

“I think you’ll find it satisfactory,” the digital specialist grinned. “That was one helluvah show, Jumper.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Frankie held the disk up appreciatively and waved it a little before slipping it into his jacket pocket. “I’d suggest you forget you ever saw it.”

“Saw what?”

Frankie smiled his Hollywood smile and turned to exit the room, Guardian already out the door ahead of him. J.D. waited until they were gone for some time before settling back in his chair and letting out a long breath. After a moment more, he swiveled in his seat and pressed a button on his phone, picking up the receiver. It rang a couple of times before being picked up.

“They got it,” he breathed into the receiver in a conspiratorial tone, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening in on his conversation.

“Uh-huh. They should be leaving the mallplex within the next few minutes.” Pause. “Yup. It is as you asked, and I’ve uploaded the copy to the location you designated.” Another long pause. “Nice doing business with you too.”

Setting the receiver down in its cradle, J.D. pulled up his bank account online and smiled at the sight. “Ten thousand Euros,” he breathed happily.

DigitalScribe and Guardian made their way back across the bridge, the whole while Scribe was thinking about the best way to handle the media. He’d have to make copies of it, to be sure. They’d have to secure their well-being while participating in the negotiations so that meant they’d have to set up a delivery, or two, with contingencies.

“Let’s head over to Data Inc.,” Scribe suggested as he concluded his plan. That was another thing he didn’t particularly enjoy about the situation they were in. He normally operated on a fully functioning plan with contingencies already in place. Here, he was thinking on his feet, moving one step ahead of those that were tracking them. “Then we can get something to eat—I’m starving.”

Data Inc. specialized in netrunner programs, but Scribe happened to know that they’d also burn copies of datadisks for a price and that was the price he was willing to pay. So, after a bit of basic interaction with the clerk, he handed over the disk and turned to wait on the results, watching as Guardian continued to scan the mall from the doorway.

From his vantage, Guardian couldn’t see much of the floor, but what he did see set off warning bells in his head. Across the floor, near the escalators, there was a man who Guardian had been sure was watching them. As soon as Guardian obviously settled his attention on him, the fellow turned his attention to a balloon vendor presenting a purchased set of balloons to an Exotic; a blue cat woman wearing a white, sequined bikini that allowed her tail to protrude without hindrance. The man wore a black trench coat that was likely armored, and it was slicked by rain. His head was bald and glistening in the mall’s light. He wore a suit underneath his jacket, and black mirrorshades the likes of which were likely in the three hundred euro range. Scanning the areas to their left, and right, Guardian couldn’t see any others right away, and returning his gaze to the man’s position he’d lost him.

Just South of the New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 5:25pm




Wilderness – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:43pm

Scaling the fence had been a slow, tense process, but it was accomplished. Crouching low, the pair quickly made their way to the shadow of a building near a utility meter that provided them with some limited cover.

Guards have been rerouted. Proceed to northern building.

Following their instructions, MDK and Peacekeeper proceeded to the opposite corner and peered across the empty compound. There were no guards in sight, but the distance between the two buildings was about fifty meters, and it was lit by flood lights.

“You go,” Peacekeeper said, slinging her submachine gun forward. “I’ll cover.”

Not wasting the opportunity the mysterious netrunner had provided them, MDK bolted for the relative cover of the building, remaining low and moving like the wind that still carried the rainwater down upon them. There was a parking lot off to the right with a couple of jeep-like vehicles, both with steam rising from their hoods as the rain hit, but there was still no sign of the guards. Moving up to the eastern edge of the building, MDK peered around the corner, looking up the inside stretch of the L towards the doors. Still no guards. Motioning Peacekeeper over he waited until she arrived.

The door is unlocked. There’s three pairs of roaming guards inside the building as well as a security room holding four more. The hall inside the door is clear for now.

They went. MDK leading the way to the door and opening it with a quick, fluid jerk allowing Peacekeeper to slip inside, out of the rain. There was nothing they could about the water that was forming in puddles at their feet, and they message MDK received next set them in motion immediately upon entering.

Ahead, then right at the second hall. There will be a door there. I’ve unlocked it. Your friends are inside. You’ve maybe two minutes until the next patrol.

Pointing down the hall, MDK proceeded quickly to the first corner, peering around it to the right and securing their position. Leap-frogging past MDK, Peacekeeper proceeded on to the next hall, unaware that this was where they would be turning, she set up position and motioned MDK forward. The black-garbed assassin slipped around the corner and began to make his way down the hall, peering up at the numbered doors with the small windows.

213. I’ll unlock the door when you get there.

Sure enough, as soon as MDK stepped in front of the door he heard the audible click of the lock disengaging. To his left, Peacekeeper’s pretty brow furrowed as she readied herself to barge into the room.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:55pm




Biotechnica Facility Holding Cell – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:42pm

“You don’t have to worry about baring any soul to me.” Freeway said sardonically. “I’d wager a good night’s sleep and a decent meal that this room is bugged, besides whether you tell me or not is irrelevant really, they’ll get it out of you in a few hours, I’m pretty certain of that.” He let a fleeting smile escape his lips, “The name’s more of a rank in my family than an actual name, but I use it with the zeroes coz they tend to remember it better than a real name. I’m just a driver, nothing more glamorous than that, big rigs, interstates and freeway’s.”

“You’re a nomad?” Bull’s Eye suddenly stopped his pacing and looked directly at Freeway, suspicion and appreciation a strange mix on his hardened face.

(OOC: Assuming a yes.)

“What nation?”

The conversation was led a little further down that road with Bull’s Eye sharing that he and Croaker had been with the Snake Nation before their family had been obliterated by the NCPD. Bull’s Eye doesn’t explain why the raid took place, but he relaxes some when Freeway relates what history of his he deems low-security enough to do so.

“So,” Firewind presses after the two nomads became acquainted some, and Bull’s Eye appeared to calm a bit more. “The person you were looking for…”

(OOC: whether Freeway reveals the story of how he got there or not, as well as who he is looking for…)

The medtech glanced at Bull’s Eye and raised his eyebrows, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t likely Merry Deth had been the source of Freeway’s search. It was about then that the door lock clicked, startling Keahi who spun about and rose to his feet in one fluid motion. Bull’s Eye did the same, popping up ready to spring into action.

Biotechnica Facility Holding Cell – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:55pm




Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:22am

"The girl, Mery Deth, daughter or not, is dead. Her system was so full of some type of enhancement bio drug that it killed her during our extraction of her."

Mr. Ackerman’s face froze, his eyes narrowing as the only sign of his sudden change in mood. “She was on drugs, you say? Was it an overdose? How did you figure this information out? And why the hell did you miss the drop? There might have been something we could have done for her.”

Ackerman suddenly lunged forward and put his face just out of head-butting range of Croaker’s. “I am holding you personally responsible for the death of my daughter, Mr. Tallon, so I suggest that you be forthcoming with your information. This is, after all, sovereign ground and the only justice you’ll find here is that which I dole out.”

Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:23am


Posted on 2008-09-21 at 18:03:22.

Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: Hello?


Glory? Grugg?

Once I finish Blammm's Syl, yours are the last. Glory, I'm just waiting for your answers to the questions posted above, and Grugg...well, I'm pretty much waiting on everything from the concept forward. With Star Trek dying out I may be able to start this sooner than expected. I just have to finish up with the characters.

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:14:53.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Planning on moving this again.


Tomorrow. That's when it should take place. That is, if I can find the time as my wife may want to have a family-oriented day due to the hectic past few days. We'll see.

Great posts by the way.

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:11:16.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Syls...


Crazy century plus history! Fleshing that out is what's taking the time. Nearly finished.

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:09:52.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: That wasn't funny.


Nope, not funny at all. Really Roger, you don't have to find humor in that, I promise.

OK, so I've made up for my mistake. Newspaper man interaction posted. Thanks for your patience. Oh, and I can't believe I missed the opportunity to ask JW for additional work. Where was my head that day!?

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:08:12.
Edited on 2008-09-21 at 06:08:56 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: How about....


Picking "him" up and swinging him around while making airplane noises?

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:07:04.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: If Eol brings it back.


I'll be sure to rejoin.

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:05:59.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: I doubt it is dying.


Olan gets wrapped up in real life some times. That's all the delay for the game is. Stick around Utan, I'm sure Olan has plans to move this forward sometime in the near future.

As for Kane: I'm sorry to hear it Tann, but I can understand time constraints.

Posted on 2008-09-21 at 06:05:23.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Backpost: On the way to the bar


The cool evening air carried the stigmatism of city stench upon it as the group wound their way through the city streets. The whole of the time Wyatt’s mood darkened as people popped off with salutations the like of, “Good afternoon, Sheriff,” and, “Howdy, Sheriff. Mighty nice to have you in town.” There were more, but after a spell, Sung had to force himself to ignore them lest he snap at one of them folk that so dared to be misguided and kind. He could understand their excitement over having Law in town, but to mistake the Law for him? That just wasn’t comprehensible to the captain. There might’ve been a time when he’d have entertained such a thought, but that time was as dead as the ranch he’d left behind, put to rest with the souls of his loved ones, and hung with the massacre he’d enacted on those responsible. Where’d the law been then!? Cow-towing to the local aristocracy, and bending in the wind like a weak sapling instead of being strong like the oak they needed to be.

Thinking on the past as these comments had charged him to do, Wyatt nearly missed the well-dressed gentleman approaching them after a turn, and that just drove the dour captain further into his mood. Reading the man as a non-threat for the time, Wyatt dismissed the idea of trying to intimidate him into leaving them alone and kept his hand free from his Colt.

“Excuse me! Sheriff! Charles Caesar of the Frisco Star. I was wondering if I could have an interview, or a few moments of your time for some questions?”

“You got it wrong, Puhn yo,” Wyatt’s tone held a warning to it that the newsman flat out ignored.

“Right. Right.” And there he was jotting something down on a pad. “Holding out for more money, I gitch ya. So is JW offering a salary, or is it a per head caught basis? Where are you from? How’d you get here? What made you choose the lawman style of life? Are you married? Do you have a family settling here? If you are a bachelor, let me tell you there are some many of a fine lady readers of my paper that would be interested. Is this fine young man your deputy? Jimmy! How do you know the sheriff? And who might this fine lovely lady be? Are you related to the sheriff?”

Wyatt stopped cold in the street, his head lowered slightly, his eyes on the ground. When he spoke, his tone was the messenger of death. “Mister, you’re Shiah Hwa, an’ if’n you print that Da Shiang La Se La Ch’wohn Tian you’re gonna find yerself losing more’n a few of yer readers when I pack up and burn atmo leavin’ this dirt rock for the vultures. Bai Tuo, Uhn Jin Yee Dien

Of course, that wasn’t it despite Wyatt telling the man to shut up. No. Even as the captain stood there really wanting to pistol whip the fellow, he started right into asking more questions and scribbling in that infernal notebook. Shaking his head slightly the captain of Rocinante pushed past the newsman and continued towards his pending rendezvous with JW, the whole while wondering if he could get away with asking Asher to do a little P.R. It was just an entertaining thought. Wyatt knew that Willow would never stand for it, and he didn’t need more trouble in this town with Sam getting stitched up and Wolf working on repairing their property (how much was that going to cost them?).

By the time Wyatt reached the bar, he was silently wishing he hadn’t promised Willow (as well as Summer and Eden) that he wouldn’t drink any more. What a good dousing of the brain in the numbing quality of liquor would do for him right then…


Posted on 2008-09-21 at 05:59:14.
Edited on 2008-09-21 at 06:03:34 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: I hate to say it, but...


I'm going to have to turn down taking over the game afterall. With The Embodiment pending I don't know that I'll have the time to run another game. Sorry folks.

Posted on 2008-09-17 at 19:47:35.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Love posts from all involved.


I apprently completely neglected the interaction with the newspaperman in my last post, so heads up! I'll be editing my post as soon as possible.

Posted on 2008-09-17 at 12:43:32.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Heads up


I'm nearly finished with Sanya. Syl development...takes some time.

Posted on 2008-09-16 at 04:30:10.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: OK


Hammer, I checked again and while I have Salibat's history, I don't have the list of questions that Blammm posted for his character above. So, if you get me those, I can get to work on Salibat after Sanya.

Blammm, I'm working on Sanya now (just a heads up).

Glory, I don't have the questions for Nolera either, so please get those to me and I can get her development done.

Grugg...what happened?

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 21:11:44.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: I wasn't watching.


I figured you'd let us know when you posted to get things going again. Sorry. I've posted though. Looking forward to seeing if I can keep Char alive for a third adventure.

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 21:02:05.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I have to admit...


This is one of my favorite games as well. Thanks, Roger!

I've posted, by the way.

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 21:01:05.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Getting things done.


The senator scuffles while you speak but watches you the entire time. He nods his head and says, “I see your point and I was gonna take care of this tonight. But I can see the issue burning in your head.” He looked over to where James and Willow were sitting and makes an odd shake of the head like he isn’t sure of what he is seeing. Then takes the chips in front of him and shuffles most of his stack into another pile before pushing them towards Wyatt. “You can cash them in at the bar, or if you’d like, take a seat, get a drink and join us.” He says with a smile and offers a shot glass for the whiskey bottle on the table. “You’re welcome too Kid, if you’d like.” He says to Asher. “But you’ll have to get your own stack.”

Wyatt steps forward and takes the stack up in hand, offering J.W. a nod before stepping back again. “Not the gamblin’ type, but thanks anyway.

“Look, there’s this other thing: those about town have taken t’ callin’ me, or Asher here, sheriff. Now, I don’t wanna go pissin’ on people’s boots, but I’d appreciate it if’n you could call ‘em off a bit? I’m gonna have enough trouble linin’ up additional work without there bein’ some negative connotation attached t’ my name, dohn-ma?”

Hoisting the chips in hand a bit to draw emphasis to them, Wyatt offers a final sheh sheh and turns towards the bar confident that the Kid would be watching his back. Once there, he cashes in the chips and peers around at the crowd through the mirror before settling on allowing those that was there from Rocinante to share a drink, and give Willow some more time with her man toy.

“Belly up, Kid,” Wyatt motioned to the bar. “Don’t know how much longer we’ll be dirtside so you best be getting’ yer fill of it now.”

“I’ll have a soda,” Wyatt orders when the barkeep approaches, resisting the urge to order a whiskey to calm what the day had done. Ignoring the looks he might’ve received, Sung began to contemplate where he might drudge up additional cargo for Rocinante, passengers might do as well. Perhaps something legal this time so they could spread their wings and fly right through that blockade…something with a nice payout attached too. In any case, he’s determined to mind his own business, not get tangled in J.W.’s web any further than they already had been (the whole Ludlow thing still had him bouncin’ about in his brainpan for some reason in the ‘Verse that they should have ran into both brothers within such a short amount of time. One was trackin’ a Sam, and Wyatt hadn’t ruled out that it wasn’t the miner either.

After a time sipping at his soda, he’d worked himself into feeling anxiety about Sam’s condition, and was intent on returning to Rocinante as quick as he could so as to facilitate the transfer of ice and land the next gig, returning Dash, Wolf, the mule, and all else to Roc as it should be. Downing the rest of his drink, Wyatt pushed away from the bar and motioned for Asher to follow, drawing up near Willow and the dandy.

“Willow, it’s time t’ return t’ the ship,” Then, almost as an after thought. “There’s a wave came through for ya earlier as well. Thought you’d like t’ know.”

(OOC: Barring interruption, complications, trouble…they’ll return to the ship and prepare to handle the transfer of the ice. If there’s time to kill, Wyatt will spend it searching the cortex for additional work, or making his way about the docks looking for posted work there, but staying close to the ship, and bringing Asher with him should he leave Rocinante. Oh, and he’ll stow the money in his quarters in a “safe place”. They’ll return for Sam, Wolf, and the mule in the morning since the transfer will likely take place too late at night to be disturbing respectable folk. At least, that’s Wyatt’s plan. We’ll see what happens.)


Posted on 2008-09-13 at 20:58:07.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: All right, so the post is in place.


As I've stated, I didn't post for Spiff's continuation due to Sui's lack of response (probably due to my delayed response to his question here). However, it isn't a big deal seeing how he's so far ahead of the rest of you.

Raven, I took you as far as I did and left off there so that you'd have the opportunity to post any precautionary approaches/methods you were taking as Guardian before entering the mallplex. Do you have the Night City handbook? If not, please remember that the mallplex has multiple towers as well as a parking garage with multiple levels. The east towers are administrative and kind of the super market for the mallplexers. The central tower is the shopping concourse with the southern towers being living areas (two towers, one inset into the other) and the western tower also being living areas. The northern tower is the business complex, and Ebertech is contained in the top two floors. That's where J.D.'s office was located if you check back to page 15.

YeOlde, I looked through your character sheets to find some method for getting past the fence, but not seeing anything, I left it at that point so you could determine how you are getting through that particular obstacle.

Tann, conversation, conversation, conversation...

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 20:35:32.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: A Concerned Father...


Alley – South Night City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 4:31pm

Guardian’s speedware initiated, his finger depressing the trigger as his targeting reticule darted from the businessman to the lead assassin. The round was spent, the recoil flowing up the bodyguard’s forearm as the dangerous metal sped towards the enemy. The assassin was bringing his weapon to bear as well, but the round took him in the right shoulder, protected though he was by his armor, it still caused his body to twist slightly—not enough to stop him from popping off a round of his own.

As Guardian’s feet continued to pound the pavement he felt the impact of the 11mm round strike him in his armored chest. A smaller man might have had the wind knocked from him, but not Frank. He was dedicated to getting DigitalScribe out of this mess, and that meant ignoring the gnats.

For his part, Frankie wasn’t just going to duck his head and run for cover. His own weapon bucked in his hand, twice, as he spent the ammunition. The assassin’s leg jerked awkwardly and he slowed, but the second round bounced in a spray of water from his chest armor.

As DigitalScribe came up on Guardian’s left, the bodyguard felt the impact of the second assassin’s bullets striking his leg armor, but again, he was spared any additional pain though he still felt the flesh wound he’d sustained earlier as though it were on fire.

The corporate lapdog who’d first thought he was going to die at the hands of the large black man had apparently thought better once the shooting started and had dodged away towards the storefront in a flurry of fluttering, expensive cloth. He was no longer in Guardian’s sight as they slid up to the bright red city car. Guardian’s reticule darted from general body mass to the assassin’s armored head. He’d had better luck penetrating the armor of these goons in that location, so he thought he’d try it again. This time, however, the round left a smudge on the protective material of the faceplate. The shot was enough to cause the man’s head to jerk out of line of sight, his own gunfire discharging into the space beyond their location, striking a car much further down the road.

DigitalScribe followed Frank’s instructions to a tee, ducking into the city car, and sliding over to the passenger seat as the cockpit of the vehicle was turned to face them allowing the driver the space to get in curbside the same as the passenger. He ducked and swore as a round from the other assassin snapped against the cockpit door, tearing up the gray upholstery.

Attempting to keep the assassins in sight, Guardian dropped into the driver’s seat and fired off one more round for good measure. Again, the facemask held, deflecting the round, but luck was on their side. As Guardian hit the button to lower the cockpit door, the enemy gunfire was spent against the plastic of the vehicle, missing them entirely.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Frankie breathed excitedly, eyeing the two black garbed men with some trepidation as they continued their rush on the vehicle. He was confident they’d switch to full auto any second and discharge the entirety of their magazines into the thin material of the city car turning the two new occupants into Swiss Cheese.

With the sound of suction emanating throughout the cockpit, Guardian took hold of the steering control and jammed the vehicle into reverse. The four wheels of the city car were already facing in the right direction for a parallel parking job so it was a simple task darting out onto the one-way street. The gunfire had been enough to deter traffic in that area so they managed their merging without difficulty. Spinning the central portion of the steering control Guardian caused the cockpit to spin on its axis to face the right direction, and then the pedal was to the carpeted floor.

As they sped away from the scene, something bothered DigitalScribe. For some reason, the two assassins weren’t unloading on the vehicle. Twisting in his seat he watched as one of the men pointed after them while the other slung his submachine gun and turned to dash down the alley they’d just emerged from. Scanning the street, Frankie smiled as he saw the reason for them abandoning their task: two cop cars were heading towards the scene. They were a good two blocks away, but their lights were still flashing, and he was sure their sirens were blaring as well.

“We’ve got the police behind us by about two blocks,” Frankie said as he settled back into his seat. He was just glad that this wasn’t one of the more expensive versions of the car with the robotic monitor, or they’d be shut down and locked inside the vehicle like a nicely packaged gift for the police.
Reaching the thirty-five mile per hour limit for the street they merged with traffic on an adjoining street and began to put some distance between themselves and the incident.

“That was some wicked work back there, my friend,” DigitalScribe said as he felt his adrenaline start to die down and his hands start shaking a little. “You’ve definitely earned your pay today.

“Now, the big question is, how’d they find us? There’s no doubt in my mind that they were Biotechnica agents…unless you’ve pissed someone off I don’t know about.” DigitalScribe suddenly had a very nerve-racking thought. “Oh god. Get us back to the New Harbor Mallplex, Guardian. We’ve an appointment that we’re going to show up a little early for. If they tracked us this far, they might have already tracked us to—“ Frankie shook his head trying to think of all of the various methods they might have used to track them down. He wondered briefly if Croaker and the others were privileged enough to have been visited by the party, but it was a fleeting thought; his story hung on the line, and their continued safety should the story be lost.

He knew from their current location it would likely be about a half hour to forty-five minutes, depending on traffic, to the mallplex. They would be arriving just a few minutes early to pick up the doctored video footage.

Switching on the radio he scanned through the stations looking for the news, settling on KLIA News Radio. The newscast was currently focusing on overseas events, something to do with government involvement in the SouthAm again, and though the information registered with Frankie, he was slightly annoyed that it wasn’t on the local news. Rubbing at his eyes with the butt of his palms, Frankie turned to stare out of the bubble window at the city as it passed them by. There’d been the raid on the Wild Thing’s hang out that should have surely hit the news by now, and any flatfoot with a pad of paper could have found the posts put on the Internet by Preacher…the story had to of hit the news.

As they progressed through the buildings, reaching taller and taller structures, the news continued to cover the SouthAm situation.

”…Though the fighting was thought to be contained to the cartel’s compound it is now believed that DEA agents armed with what has been described as military grade weaponry did engage in a firefight with cartel forces in the streets of Panama City, apparently raiding a storage facility that the cartel was allegedly maintaining within the poorer district of Palca. While the death tolls have not yet been finalized, many civilian casualties were claimed by the Panama government while the spokesperson for the DEA, Isaiah Zin denied the claims stating that DEA operatives were focused solely on eradicating the new designer drugs—“

“Have you used your cell recently?” Frankie suddenly asked Guardian. Receiving his answer, he shook his head. “I’ve used mine. I think we should refrain from doing so in the near future. Bad idea apparently. I’m no techie, but they could track us through the GPS inherent to the phone, and that means that they have our information. They’re likely tracking down all known associates, working systematically through our contacts to find anyone we might go to for help.” DigitalScribe chuckled. “Good thing J.D. isn’t someone I hang around very often. That gives me hope—oh wait! I think this is it!”

The radio had finished with its SouthAm story and was now focusing on local news.

”…while the police continue to look for suspects in the recent firefight reported to have taken place on Bartholomew and Polk resulting in several thousands of Euro worth of damage, and at least eight injured, Lt. Manuel Tews of the NCPD has just finished with a press conference concerning the recent alleged gang shootout in downtown Night City.

“Lt. Tews stated that they are currently following leads that indicate the gunfight that killed over ten members of the Wild Things boostergang recently was not a turf war. He refrained from commenting further concerning just what those leads were, and to what they pointed, but has promised to keep the public informed as more leads become available.

“Meanwhile, more gunfire has caught the attention of the NCPD on the outskirts of Rancho Coronado and Pacifica believed to be related to corporate infighting…”


“That’s our lead, right there,” Frankie breathed a little easier. The fact that the news was now tied into the story would help him continue the sale of it to the Network. A few minutes later and the towers of the New Harbor Mallplex became visible amidst the rest of the city skyline.

“Well,” Frankie smiled at Guardian, relief evident on his handsome face. “Guess we’re free of those assassins. What do you say we dump this vehicle a couple of blocks from the mallplex so as not to carry the dirty trail on inside?”

Just South of the New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 5:08pm




Wilderness – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:40pm

“Ok,” MDK said to her in a whisper, “your right, if the others were taken then they are probably inside there, so I guess we better get them before they tell them about the rest of us.”

He turned his head to scan the area around the facility before turning back to her.

“Tell Jack that if we are going to go in there,” nodded his head at the stronghold, “his netrunner had better be good. Here is what we will need… they have to get those security cameras on a loop…a long one…then disable the perimeter scanners…if possible..cause some kind of alarm on the other side of the complex…something to draw as many guards as possible. If they can do that…we might have a chance to get in there…if not…well hope you don’t mind being a ‘dead’ hero.” He smirked at the last, something that didn’t invoke confidence.

Jaimy scowled at his cavalier attitude, but nodded and began texting back. The smaller keyboard of her phone and the heightened intuition of the word selection made it so that her typing was nearly as fast as talking, and within a few seconds she’d received confirmation that the message had been sent, and was waiting on Jack’s reply.

The netrunner is already in their mainframe. Everything else should be doable.

“He said it’s a go,” Peacekeeper whispered back, shifting to get a better look at the facility once more as MDK slipped his mask and bandana back into place.

“Tell the net runner to monitor us on the cameras,” MDK said in a hushed tone as he checked his ammunition and scanned the area before them, “and give him my optic frequency 038.830 so the runner can send me directions and warnings via the marquee in my optics.”

Jaimy immediately relayed the information. She had worked with netrunners before—they were about as useful as a decent fixer when it came down to the necessity of having one on board. She was thankful to Jack for coming through. After a moment, she received the texted response.

The ‘runner is tapped in. Ready for the go ahead.

That’s when a message scrolled across the bottom left hand corner of MDK’s left eye: I’ve found a fairly clear five minute block of time on the camera feed. Beginning loop…now.

“Follow my lead,” MDK whispered to Peacekeeper as he crept forward, “do exactly as I say and we might get out of this alive…not likely…but maybe.”

Jaimy shook her head at his back and slid the phone back into her pocket, gripping her weapon tightly, and creeping forward a few feet behind him.

The decent towards the fence was approximately thirty meters, and they devoured it in about two minutes. This left the fence to deal with…

The electricity to the fence is null. The message scrolled across MDK’s eye as though on queue. That left the simple problem of getting through it. The top was covered in razor wire and it was nearly fourteen feet high. The metal of the chainlink was too thick for the cutter in MDK’s Swiss Army Knife, so it would have to be another solution.

Wilderness – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:43pm




Biotechnica Facility Holding Cell – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:40pm

“I don’t know what they do here,” Freeway answered. “But with the security they have around the place I’d wager it isn’t something they want the rest of the world to know about. I’m here looking for someone, but finding her isn’t my main priority right now.”

Keahi tilted his head to the side at the response. “Finding someone?” For a moment he wondered if the missing person happened to be the very same that they’d been hired to procure…the one that had died in the van due to that strange side effect from the intelligence enhancer.

Bull’s Eye turned away from the door releasing an expletive. “That thing’s sealed up nice and tight!”

Firewind raised his eyebrows as though to say, ya think!? Then prompted Freeway further absolutely positive that they’d need his help to get out of this mess. “We’re here looking for something rather than someone, but we started the night looking for someone.”

“Shut up, Choomba!” Colton growled as he turned on the medtech. “You don’t know if you can trust this sumbitch, so don’t go bearin’ your soul!”

Firewind held up his hands a bit in defense, then decided on another route. “Your name. Freeway. How’d you get it?”

Biotechnica Facility Holding Cell – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:42pm




Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:15am

“Not speaking to me are we?” the suit said with a slight smile on his weather-worn face, his voice a bit gravelly. “Perhaps we haven’t built that bridge of trust yet, Mr. Tallon. My name is Mick Ackerman, and according to reports, you and your crew did exactly as you were hired to do. You snatched my daughter from the sinful den of those street rats, the Wild Things. Only, this is where I’ve become a bit confused. You see? You were supposed to bring her back to me, and you haven’t. Instead, I find you snooping around outside of my facility for some odd reason.”

Ackerman continued to smile as he gave Croaker’s knee a slight pat. “All of this could have been avoided had you but delivered my daughter to me, Mr. Tallon. All of the pain you’ve experienced—the pain your friends will experience…”

Ackerman’s hand shifted to one of Croaker’s bandaged wounds where it hovered, the corporate’s eyes shifting from the nomad’s face to the hand as though drawn by the macabre intention of it. “It all could have been avoided, Mr. Tallon.”

Rising from his seat, Mr. Ackerman surprisingly enough did not press down upon the wound, but straightened his coat instead and met Croaker’s gaze once more.

“Rest assured, Mr. Tallon, that I will find your friends, and we will round them all up for a grand reunion where you tell me where my daughter is. I’ve the resources, the patience, and the determination to make this a very miserable time for each and every one of you—young Miss Hammond, your friend Mr. Tordesky…I’m already offering my hospitality to your friends, Mr. Harris, Mr. Makani, and the fellow called Freeway. It is only a matter of time before I’ve rounded all of them up. You might as well save me the trouble and just tell me where my daughter is. You can understand my concern, I’m sure.”

Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:22am


Posted on 2008-09-13 at 20:29:44.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Yup...I did miss it.


My bad. I guess I can post now since Sui is so far ahead of you guys time wise, we don't need to wait on his conversation.

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 17:26:15.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Char'll bite.


Char sat back a bit from the others. Like Da’ Moon, Char was uninterested in social interaction. When he’d received the summons it had taken him some time to resolve his indecision and return to the city, and as such, aside from the irritable little rogue, he had been the last to rejoin the party. He’d made his greeting to Arien with a warm clasp of the forearm and a pat on the shoulder, asking after the knight’s sister and quickly catching up on what had been occupying the knight’s time over the past few months. Maximus and Valentine, he’d greeted with a nod of recognition and a similar clasp to the wrist, though it wasn’t filled with nearly the same level of friendship as Arien’s had been. Kilgim, on the other hand, had received the same as Arien: warm clasp of friendship, some “’ow ya been?”, and the like. And when Da’ Moon had finally entered the room with Sunset on her shoulder, the greeting Char presented was respectful of her mood, and, at first, more focused on the pseudo dragon, and getting to know the little creature once more. Once he was finished with Sunset’s greetings and scratching her under the chin, he smiled at Da’ Moon and winked.

“Anudder fer da bards, eh?”

He hadn’t allowed her time to respond, but had made his way back to a chair against the wall where he could observe the entire room with equal impunity, and it was there he remained, quiet unless spoken to.

When Dwan, Gwanele, and the newcomer entered, Char figured the man with the bird to be another of Gwanele’s pets, and dismissed him until introductions were made. Nodding his thanks to Terrin for the beer, Char settled back in his chair and waited while the dwarven leader situated himself.
“Terrin, before you go, could you get me …” Dwan began, but Terrin had already reached under the cloth of the trolley and produced several maps which he then handed to the stout man.

“Okay gentleman, let’s get down to business.” The dwarven leader began, “This is Mathius Rath, a mage of vast power who has served the Iron League before. I have asked him to join you on this particular mission because of the possible arcane threat involved. I trust him as I do all of you so please welcome as an addition to the team.

“Now that that is settled, we have a town and farming community to the south east of here called Hevlorn. The town is having a problem and has asked for help. Started with cattle – one or two disappearing in the night, no trace, no carcass, nothing. Then, very recently, people disappeared - young women mostly but a few boys as well.”
Char took a deep breath and silently let it out. Another magic-user…well, at least this one didn’t appear as to be as strange a companion as the last had been. Char felt a momentary pang of guilt at the thought, but swallowed it with a sip of beer and wiped the froth from his mustaches with the back of his grimy hand.

Dwan proceeded after taking a drink himself and though Char appeared disinterested, he paid close attention as each and every detail could be vital to their survival. This last mission hadn’t exactly been a walk in the King’s Park, and the ranger never liked losing a companion no matter how strange the individual. So, he registered all of the key notes, put away the rest for later perusal, and made no attempt to interrupt. Eventually Gwanele rose up from her seat and cast her gaze from face to face, seemingly ready to call the meeting to a close; “Any questions?”

“Hold on Gwanele.” Dwan interrupted, “Tell them the other stuff.”

“It really doesn’t concern the mission,” the woman protested after regarding the party and then fixing her gaze back on the dwarf.

“They are risking their lives for me,” Dwan stated firmly, “I won’t send them in without knowing everything. You know that. They have met those possessed by demons in both missions. They found the crystals. They are tied to this somehow and you know it.”

The archmage sighed ruefully, “How much do any of you know about the Elven blood wars?”

Char raised his eyebrows. He’d heard the songs, the legends told around the campfires, but aside from finding the occasional reminder of the Wars in ruins he was pretty much uneducated. Still, if the arch-mage was referring to a time that far back in history, Char had to take notice. That’s when the new magic-user sighed and spoke up. “A bit more than what might be passed along in a standard history lesson, perhaps, my Lady,” he answered, rising to his feet again before beginning to relate the history of the Elven Blood Wars.

The woodsman listened as attentively to Mattius’ commentary as he had Gwanele’s, pondering the world of magic as a secondary line of thought, and what complications it brought to an otherwise simple life. He’d once been told that magic was supposed to make life better, but the more he dealt with it, the more he doubted it was worth the headache.

“…Despite what might be said in that regard, though,” Mattius continued, staring into the depths of his goblet at the near black remains of the wine, “I’m not entirely certain that I believe that. Just because mortal eyes didn’t glimpse the happening does not mean that the happening did not occur, regardless of what historians might have us believe and not all of those that dwell in the outer planes are as fond of a grand entrance as Lolth and Azazel might have been…”

Char’s lip curled at the right side and his eyes narrowed. Not all of those that dwell in the outer planes are as fond of a grand entrance as Lolth and Azazel might have been… That practically smelled of trouble. The possessed and—what was the word Alloryn had used to describe those in the Duke’s keep? Oh yes: transmuted—that had been strange enough. The Thri-Kreen had been dangerous and Char still wasn’t sure as to how they fit into the mix, but that green-armed Imperial had been downright disturbing. Bloody udderwor’ly bas’ar’s, Char growled to himself.

“So,” he said into the silence Mattius had left behind. “Ya tinks we be facin’ sum’tin’ demonic an’ undead dis time?”

He didn’t like that idea. The undead were just creepy and unnatural, and demons…well, they were a whole other spectrum of unnatural. It went against the order of things, and that always bothered the ranger.

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 17:21:31.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Not at all Sui.


As a matter-of-fact, most low ranking fixers start off by working for a higher ranked fixer as part of their organization. Spiff is doing things the hard way.

I was hoping for a post from Tann, but if I don't see one by tomorrow morning, I'm posting anyway.

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 16:47:41.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Maybe I will, but there are some conditions...


The first condition being that I need to know how many people can dedicate to at least one post a week (because that's all I can really dedicate myself to).

I'll likely have to find some way to switch up some positions that the characters hold, so there may be some strangeness for the first bit.

And everyone has to realize that this is Eol's game, so if he ever get's the bug back, I'm taking second fiddle again.

So, we know the Romulans are still with us, and YeOlde...who else?

Posted on 2008-09-13 at 16:46:10.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: I haven't had much free time.


So, I'm still working on the character sheets. Thanks for your patience.

Posted on 2008-09-06 at 20:47:52.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: OK, I've moved most of you forward some.


Freeway, Bull's Eye, and Firewind, you aren't going to receive a visitor before morning, but that's not to say things won't happen before then. That's dependent upon MDK and Peacekeeper.

Tann, I know you're busy, but the interaction was inevitable.

MDK...what makes a hero?

Raven, you're the only one who didn't post so I didn't move your group forward.

Posted on 2008-09-06 at 20:47:08.

 


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