The Red Dragon Inn - home of the Audalis campaign setting.  Online D&D gaming, art, poerty, stories, advice, chat, and more

We currently have 4063 registered users. Our newest member is Hammeyaneggs.
Online members:
Username Password Remember me
Not a member? Join today! | Forgot your password?
Latest Updated Forum Topics  [more...]
Q&A Threads - Return to Charadun - Q&A (posted by Chessicfayth)Return to Charadun - Q&A
Posting Games - The Morphing Game (posted by TannTalas)The Morphing Game
Posting Games - The One Word Game (posted by TannTalas)The One Word Game
Recruitment Threads - Return to Charadun - Recruitment (posted by Eol Fefalas)Return to Charadun - Recr
Personal Creations - Miniature Painting (posted by t_catt11)Minis!
Latest Blog Entries
Revenge of the Drunken Dice
Latest Webcomics
Loaded Dice #80: Priorities
RPG MB #15: Master of the Blade
Floyd Hobart #19: High School Reunion IV
There are currently 3 users logged into DragonChat.
Is the site menu broken for you? Click here for the fix!

You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Thanks for the post, Tann, but please remember that while I encourage back-posts to keep the RP alive, there's still the matter of the current events. Please provide Casino's actions for the current events too.



Posted on 2018-06-05 at 16:23:22.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject:


Looks as though we're back to waiting on the good Quartermaster to lead out with his next post.



Posted on 2018-06-05 at 10:40:46.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject:


I, too, have posted. I've laid out a plan but Tann and Robert, feel free to offer up other suggestions. The intent is to completely avoid a gunfight if at all possible and once we're inside, maybe we can figure out a way to get Petrie out with the rest of us.



Posted on 2018-06-05 at 10:39:26.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject:


Around and around it went, but the constant reminder of it not being easy to fake a death without the person in question being part of the plan.  Breakfast is served, you eat and discuss and then clean up the dishes and still discuss when you realize that you haven’t heard from Asher and the Doc for awhile.


Closing his eyes, Wyatt rolls his head about stretching out his tightened neck muscles. Planning a kidnapping is difficult enough when that's all one has to do. This mission during the War is brought to mind where Wyatt's ship was running barricade to insert and extract the team that was charged with intercepting a courier. They received live reports from spies concerning the target's position and had to develop a plan on the hoof. He had ended up transporting three corpses back with no luck in snatching up the courier.


*Thump* *Thump* *Thump* comes the heavy metal knocking of someone at the cargo bay door.  


Sam frowns and runs to the cockpit to check the camera while Captain Sung casts a questioning gaze Ma's way. "We expecting a delivery?"


The scarred woman shakes her head and then turns her attention to the surly mechanic as he rises from his seat at the table and heads off for the door.


"Well, the Kid better not be I some kinda trouble with the Law, or I'm trimmin' his rations some," he mumbles while eyeballing the retreating shoulders of the big man. "It don't look like there's a-bettin' chance were gonna come up with nothin' reasonably resemblin' a plan, do it, Ma?" Sung muses surly while picking at a stray splinter odd wood from the tabletop.


Shaking her head, the ship matron expresses her apologies with a sympathetic look on her mottled face.


Responding in kind, Wyatt pushes the chair out and pressing his hands against his thighs, he forces himself to his feet. "Ain't no harm done an' nothin' wasted but a couple o' hours seein' how I didn't make no mention o' this fool's errand t' the little miss at least."


Hearing the sounds of two sets of booted feet on the metal gangway leading up from the cargo bay, Wyatt falls quiet and rests himself against the table, thumbs hooked in his belt, gazing calmly upon those coming his way.


“Captain Sung.” Hewlett nods a greeting to Wyatt, “Nice to meet you. I won’t waste your time. Seems your Doctor Young has gotten herself into a situation involving a young man with injuries. Petrie Tubbs? Anyway, she is doctoring the boy in the offices of a Dr. Amber’s office in town – he was the closest doc with an operating room. She caused a bit of a stir, in the church of all places. Drew a lot of attention to herself in the process.”


"She responsible fer this Petrie Tubbs' injuries?" Gorram it! We're into the next set o' three. And how in the bloody 'Verse did we wind up gettin' mixed up with Petrie Tubbs despite it all? 


"Nope," their guest states. "Was just there when the injured man showed up and took charge of his care right quick."


"Ain't that a good thing?" Wyatt presses. Why's the very one we're lookin' t' abscond with showing up needin' Doc Stephanie's attention?


"Would be normally, but she might've bit off more'n she can chew."


Sung presses his lips tight together and raises his eyebrows, "That so?"


"Well the Governor is got the doctor’s office held tight, yes, Patience, that Governor, and your man Asher is there as well. He won’t leave her behind despite her telling him to, seems to believe she needs protecting. Might be right too, hard to say. I get the feeling people around here don’t see many people stand up to Patience and they liked the first act."


“Ok, not to be a skeptic but why are you helping him out? Whats in it for you?” Fenris could not help asking. This guy could just as well be working for Patience and this could all be a set-up.


“Asher did my crewmember a … favour last night so I wanted to return the gesture.  My man was drunk, looking for a fight and Asher could have laid him down hard, but he didn’t. Right honourable man you got there. Anything else I can do for ya?”


A firm but not so much a hostile look from Hewlett made the big mechanic nod his head in acknowledgment and relax down from his aggressive stance.


"Yeah," Wyatt turned his gaze from Fenris back to the messenger. "What was the scene like last you saw?"


“Patience has four men around the office and two within. Her and the Rev were in for awhile but left as I did looking none too happy. I get the impression your Doctor doesn’t really care who she makes friends with. Asher had made his way inside the office as I left.  One against six, I don’t like them odds but he didn’t look worried. Oh! Asher said the Doc had her ear comm in but I also heard Patience tell one of her men to block all comms.”


"You been right goodly comin' out here and I thank ya fer it." Captain Sung replies in a level tone though his insides are already spoiling for a fight. "Looks like we're makin' a trip t' town."


“Listen," Hewlett says as he is leaving. “We are on channel 1742, be here until late tonight. If you need anything, give me a call. I can’t stand by and watch a good man stand alone.”


"I appreciate it," Sung answers and leaves Wolf to walk their guest out.


"Sam!" Wyatt spins about and storms off towards his bunk. "We need t' prepare fer bear. Meet me in the cargo bay loaded an' ready, an' make certain Wolf is there too. Ma, button down the hatches. No one comes aboard Roc less it be with one o' us and were in good health."


Once in his bunk, Wyatt tears off his shirt, throws on his armor and then shrugs his shirt back on. Strapping his weapons in place, he slips into his coat and snatches his hat from the bed. Rejoining the others in the bay, he explains, "We're not lookin' get trouble—as much as I'd love t' see Patience an' her bunch no longer causin' good folk harm—but be ready for it should it find us. Follow my lead and play it Ku. If Buddha is lookin' our way, we might jus' get of this rock without makin' us the target fer every gorram bounty hunter in the bloody 'Verse."


Leading the way down the gangway into the warm open air of Whitefall, Captain Sung continues his discourse, "Here's the plan. We walk int' town peaceful-like. We're jus' gonna see t' our own. We got no reason t' believe that Patience won't allow us t' join Doc Stephanie an Asher, so that's the way we're gonna play it out. We all shiny here?"



Posted on 2018-06-04 at 22:57:37.
Edited on 2018-06-05 at 10:38:02 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject:


Dun, dun, dun...


I'll have a post up as soon as I can. Spent most of the spare time I had today making the post for Flesh & Blood, so it will not be today, unfortunately.



Posted on 2018-06-01 at 17:09:00.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Indeed! And now, so have I.



  • Espatier, I've modified the results of your story, so read through your evening activities to have a clear understanding of what's what.

  • Aletheia and Tann, if you two want to play out any of the conversation over the course of that two hours, you're welcome to. 

  • Everyone, please stay current with your posting. This last time we had a number of people post responses and interaction to what happened at the beginning of my last post, but ignore everything at the end. While back posting to bring the characters current with all that's going on is important, it is equally important to be able to move the story forward. Thanks for your contributions and attention to this.

  • Espatier, I've awarded Luther 1IP in each of the following: Education & General Knowledge, Persuasion & Fast Talk, and Streetdeal.

  • Espatier and Aletheia, please check your PMs.

  • Everyone, I've marked my post with black, bold text to help you see where interactions are absolutely necessary, but please feel free to add character insights, thoughts, feelings, observations, declarations, conversation, etc. throughout. It might help to notify players whose characters you're interacting with as well.


Here's where I've left off...



  1. Echo and Charlie have both been questioned about procuring a ride for the group.



Posted on 2018-06-01 at 16:47:17.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject:


Edgerunner Enclave | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 11:05 PM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


******************** Luther’s Evening *********************


“You know, choomba, that there other encraves in city, right?” the Asian vendor explains with a grimy grin.


“Awhhh yeah, but this is the only one that I know about,” Luther responds congenially.


“Is so? You need get out more. You find encraves each wide variety of services”, the vendor instructs, still eyeballing the finely dressed fixer as though he’s a sideshow oddity.


“But I’m looking for a more personal service, if you know what I mean.” Luther says as he looked through the various wares that the vendor is showcasing in cracked and filthy wheeled display cases.


“Awhhhh, stuffit, jam, hook up, input,” nodding, the skinny little man turns his head to yell behind him. “Feng, call Hui Yin. Hurry! Man in need.”


Luther is a grown man, but when the man shouts out that he wants to buy “flesh,” he looks about to see many faces turn his way accompanied by knowing grins and more than a few giggles from females in proximity.


“Awhh…no, no, I’m not like that!” Luther exclaims.


“OH! You want boy then?! Feng,” grit-covered hands motion towards a young man in a green and orange Oriental robe lounging on the parameter of a monstrous olive green army tent. Almond-shaped eyes scope out the fixer with appreciation and he starts towards them. At the same time, heavy canvas flaps part and a petite middle-aged Asian woman with her hair done up tightly in a bun wearing a bright red gown emerges.


“No, wait a sec…” Cred-Stick Charlie shakes his head causing rainwater to flip from the brim of his hat, “I’m just looking for some information about a boy.”


Ms. or Mrs. Feng arrives at the vendor’s side. She looks Luther up and down from her vantage point behind the counter. She stands on the seller’s platform, a faux-wood structure that places both the male vendor and now here, three-feet higher than the slippery, mud-covered, courtyard ground. Over her cybernetic glasses—then though them—she asks in a no-nonsense tone, “Why you no want gir’, Hui Yin—joygirl—good genes, smart and cheap... she love on you rong time; you no want boy whore, I get you nice gir’ instead.” Hui Yin reaches out a delicate hand clutching her agent to interface with Luther's and seal the transaction.


“I’m looking for some information about where I can find a missing child.”


“Oh! Why you not say so, ShÇŽzi (foolish)? You need post over by monitors,” the man exclaims pointing across the sprawl of human traffic to a tall light post upon which a number of flatscreen monitors have been hung displaying various new channels. “You find I-N-F-O B-R-O-K-E-R.” He speaks slowly to Luther as though the Native American is touched by God or something.


“You still want girl, yes?” Ms. Feng asks bluntly. Luther smiles and politely declines with a shake of his head. “Are you lazy American? You have no money? Why you dress nice when you have no work?” she quizzes.


“Yes, I work... well I was a teacher at one time, but now I...” Luther attempts to explain his current line of work but is abruptly cut off by the woman.


“You teacher?” She smiles broadly showing crooked yellow teeth. “You meet Hui Yin. You help her with study, make her smart like you, yes?”


Mr. Feng breaks into his native Chinese language and the two started to bicker in front of Luther.   Attempting to take advantage of the opportunity, the fixer turns to walk towards the monitors but is stalled when he hears Feng call out to him again.


“Hey Mr. Fancy-Pants, you come back.” Now, more than a few onlookers have gathered.


“Are you real teacher? You dress too fine. Make too much credit to be real teacher,” Mr. Feng gazes at him with a critical eye. “Feng think that you a erementary schoo’ teacher but I say no way. You too pretty. Is right?” Luther walks back over and places his hands on the wet counter and says, “No, I’m sorry that isn’t correct.”


Mr. Feng immediately breaks back into Cantonese again, addressing Mrs. Feng and shaking his finger in her face while she dismisses him with what sounds to the fixer as not so nice language.


“I was a high school teacher, actually.” Luther loudly interrupts them. Both Chinese vendors stop their argument and turn to gaze down upon him once again.


Ms. Feng’s face screws up, “Then why you no speak good Engrish?” she snaps sourly.


Luther is shocked at Ms. Feng’s retort and then finds himself wanting to laugh, but refrains. “I’m Native American, but the high school thought that I speak and teach English well enough.”


“You might be smart but you have no... no... MÇ”qÄ«n de zhìhuì,” Mr. Feng shoots back.


“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what that means,” Cred-Stick Charlie apologizes.


“Mother’s wit... street smarts.” a new voice calls from behind him causing Luther to glance over his shoulder where a few people around him listening in on his conversation are pressing inward, interested in the discussion. Looking for a way to escape from the crowd, Charlie begins to feel a bit of anxiety building inside of him. A crowd focused solely on him can turn south fast. He’s outnumbered and in a very ethnic part of the enclave, so now is a good time to leave the area and quickly.


Striking his most charismatic smile, he began to excuse himself, “Nice to meet everyone but I need to go. Thank you for the information.” Tipping his fedora he takes a few steps towards the innermost people. (OOC: Persuasion & Fast-Talking to make a smooth exit: Exploding 10 = 32.)


“Hey! Hold on a sec,” someone in the crowd shouts out the plea. Luther hopes that this is going to be a quick fight and that he will be able to get a few before he falls.


“Teacher! Teach our people?” another voice calls from behind him and to the right.


Luther stops his attempt to retreat and turns to find the speakers. A multitude of hopeful, dirty Asian faces peer back at him and not one of them is threatening. They haven’t even made any further attempt to converge upon him. Instead, they appear to be looking to him for his reply with both respect and admiration.


“Our kids—our people—need a good teacher, but we can’t pay a lot of money.” Standing at five-foot-six, the woman who steps forward is wearing grungy brown overalls. Her face is finely chiseled with high cheekbones and a high forehead. Grease is smeared across her pointy chin and left cheek and a light tattoo peaks out from the collar of her outfit with a faint red glow. Those around her appear to defer to her as their representative.


“I really don’t teach anymore,“ Luther explains apologetically.


“But can you teach?” a voice from the crowd asks.


“Why me?” Luther answers in question.


“Our people are in need of a teacher... for basic language skill and overall, just general knowledge, in your American schools.” the woman offers. “We, as a people, don’t work for any of the Neo-Corps. Some of us are doctors, some scientist, and others are very skilled at their trade, but we aren’t accepted in the schools because we aren’t affiliated. So,” she looks around and spreads her hands wide. “This is what we have. Most here can’t even speak English.”


“Well that's nice, but I need to find a kid that is missing, so, I’m sorry that you're having some problems but—”


“Maybe,” she interrupts, “we can help each other?”


Looking her over, Luther strikes upon an idea, “Can you help with a broken transmission, finding a child and paying my bills?”


“We find you man-boys you like,” Feng calls back grinning.


“Why does everyone think that I want a man-boy? Damn...”


“Because you ask for personal service, Mr. Fancy-Pants!” Mr. Feng shouts back and laughs as though that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.  


“Look,” the woman in the coveralls tries to draw the fixer’s attention back to her. “Ignore him. Can you teach English well enough to help?”


“Mr. Feng,” Luther responds using the name on the neon sign hanging over the man’s head. “I ask inquired about a missing child.”


“I’m Boa. My Sister Feng, I no Mr. Feng, just Boa,” Boa responds with his face all screwed up as though he’s offended that the fixer didn’t know that.


Luther lifts his hands in the air. “See... this isn’t going to work, I’m sorry.”


“What type of car do you need help with?” The women presses hurriedly as he starts to walk away. She drifts up beside him and leads Luther to a shop with a small but firm hand on Luther’s arm.


“You know anything about a 2025 Shiltron, twin cab SLT pick-up truck by Spinelli Autotech?” Charlie asks as he looked about at the parting crowd.


“I... might know a guy” the woman answers cocking her head to the side as she continues to lead Luther down one of the many vendor isles.


“Well, I need tires, new, or an R&R, transmission, my radiator leaks, oh! And the power steering is dead. And I have—”


“So…” she stops and looks up at him, her brown eyes meeting his. “We can make a deal? You teach and proctor the tests at the state level and I’ll compensate you by finding a way to fix your truck?”


Luther pauses and considers her question. “So…how much are you talking about?”


Darting a cautious eye about, she tugs at his arm and leads him into a food tent with the aroma of Ramen noodles hanging heavy in the humid air. Seating them at a table, she glances over the fixer’s shoulder where the chinese crowd had followed.


“We will get to that soon enough. Please sit and drink with me,” she glances over her left shoulder and catches the eye of the proprietor, holding up two fingers.


“Why would you need someone like me, can’t you get someone, like—”


“Like ourselves? Chinese?” the woman shakes her head with a ghost of a smile (OOC: Luther’s Human Perception check = 13). “Our own people charge us more to educate our kids and to assistance. We know how to get here but I.D.s are hard to come by.” Her voice lowers. “The Tong have a stranglehold on everything Chinese.”


Two tea cups of white and blue are placed in front of them on a dingy silver tray with a small pot that matches the cups. Cred-Stick Charlie catches the faint beep of the woman’s agent being charged for their libations. Thinking about what she has shared with him, Luther watches as she ceremoniously pours the tea. He waits quietly, still contemplating the information she’s shared with him, until the tea is prepared. Drinking hot tea is very nice and calming.  


“Shoes, huh? I might know a guy,” He smiles back at the woman. “Maybe we could help one another, after all.” Luther nods with his infectious smile. He wonders if the Koreans are pressing these chinese? Are they going to sell his passports (Shoes) to these people? Luther ponders before continuing, “I have a need and want list if you want to wheel and deal.”


The odor of something fantastic is in the air making it difficult for him to stay focused. Luther hadn’t eaten at the restaurant earlier and the odor is making his stomach growl.


Eyeing her table companion, the woman produces her agent. Allowing her gaze to linger on his face for a moment longer, she looks down at her screen, presses, then swipes and slides the device across the table in front of the fixer.


“You got information already about Upstairs/Downstairs and the kid?” Luther queries with unfeigned surprise.


“Can you answer these questions without using your agent?” she glosses over his question with her own as he looks down at the screen. Picking it up, Charlie stares at the series of questions before him.


A twelfth-grade general education test for students takes up the whole of the available screen real estate. Luther lays his agent on the table and powers it down to show that he isn’t cheating through his neural link.


(OOC: Espatier’s General Education Roll 10+12 (mod) = 22, rolling 1d10 (10) = 10 (another exploding 10) +12 mod + another 1d10 for the exploding 10 = 31.)


Luther answers the questions in about 3 minutes, then passes the agent back to the woman. Awaiting her assessment, he smiles.


Picking up her agent, she tapped the screen twice and then holds up the device to show the crowd the results. “We can deal,” she sets her agent back on the table amidst the muttering from the crowd and leans in to ask this stranger his name.   


“Cred-Stick Charlie, or just plain ol’ Charlie, Ms...” Luther leans in as well.


“Mo Yimu, but you can just call me Mo,” she replies.  


(OOC: Espatier Rolls for Persuasion & Fast-Talking: 28.)


“Help me find that missing kid I posted about on the Giri board, pay rent to my current level of comfort in a place ‘round here, help fix my vehicle and in return, I’ll teach twelve students during the day for eight hours of instruction at 0700 to 1500. During my breaks, I will stay and take care of my own private business.”


“So you’ll stay the whole day? Five days a week?” Mo clarifies.


“At times, I will need to make runs—”


“Not acceptable,” Mo interrupts. “You’re asking us to fund your life for forty hours a week and you want to be able to run off on whatever fool mission you’ve arranged whenever you want? It’s not going to work, Charlie.”


“Look, I’ll run a night school for anyone from time to time, but I need sleep, good money and this job might sound more interesting if it had a good benefits package.”


“Seven days a week morning till noon. And any day that you miss will need to be made up before your benefits come into play,” Mo changes the offer.


“Five days, morning till noon, or I’ll take my chances with the Giri board and other people helping me.” Luther counters again. “And I pick what the days are. Deal?” he quickly adds.


“We pay your rent in one of our areas—” Mo narrows her already narrow eyes and tilts her head to the right just a bit.


“In this enclave? Thanks, but no thanks. Your right, I’m American and you guys have places that are way too small. Besides, most round-eyes are not welcome in certain areas with your many booster gangs.”


“We don’t have cash lying around to cover your expenses,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s why I offered to work on your vehicle. You’re talkin’ a few thousand to fix that truck of yours and a class to teach basic English shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks. You want to work for four hours a day, five days a week, and demanding more than the Tongs. I’ll get your transmission fixed, find some tires, and your power steering, but that’s it.”


“You’re kidding right?” Luther looks over the crowd.


Ms. Feng, who is standing just inside the tent, shakes her bun, “We no kid, Mr. Charlie, E-V-E-R.”


“Can’t you just pay the rent where I’m at right now and fix my truck?” presses the fixer.


“ NO! Too high! You ask pay too much, no good,” Feng snaps. Mo settles back in her chair and spreads her hands.


“Perhaps, we can renegotiate after we see that your flowers have blossomed,” she raises her eyebrows and folds her arms across her chest.


(OOC: Espatier’s Streetdeal Roll: 32.)


“Look,” Luther turns the tea cup about on its saucer and peers thoughtfully into the swirling cream-colored liquid. “Teaching is a time-consuming job. I got out of it because it didn’t pay enough. You want me to dedicate hours a week I could be putting towards my own business so there’s a price to pay.”


“We don’t have a lot,” Mo stares him down, “but we will keep you safe when you’re here, our families will bring you good food and you’ll earn Giri with passing grades from our children. They’re our future, and we take that very seriously.”


Charlie listened but remains stoic.


“To house you here, we’d have to displace a family, and like you said… it’d be small. You don’t want that.” Mo shrugs. “I’d be willing to bet that you’ve got a decent cube right now. Why walk away from that for less than stellar accommodation?”


“Augh... I don’t know if this is going to work guys and I’m sorry if I wasted your time.” Luther moves to get up.


“Please... wait...” Mo looks over his shoulder and speaks in Cantonese after which Ms Feng leaves through the crowd with haste. “Please sit and drink some more tea. Please,” she gestures again for Luther to sit.


He makes a show of returning slowly to the chair.


“You have spirit?” the grease-smeared woman enigmatically asks.


“What?” Luther looks confused.


“Do you have spirit...umm...Religion...a belief in, like...Jesus or Buddha?”


“Somewhat but—” Luther answers.


“Then listen to your heart and your spirit...do what’s right and help a woman and her community.”


“Look. I need credits, Giri or something to make this work me…” Charlie frankly answers his hostess. “Priority one right now is that I need information and then I might be willing to start teaching the kids for you and help to assimilate your community better into Night city. I’ll even help you find someone that will get you new shoes and other items that you might need from time to time.”


“I don’t know if I can help you with the missing child, Charlie,” Mo shakes her head again, her shoulder-length black hair drifting wet and languid about her elegant neck. “But, you put this time in and you’ll be helping people achieve a better life. I’m not naive enough to believe that’s going to take the place of credits, but I’m also offering to help get your truck back on the road and that’s something. Not to mention the food you’ll receive when teaching and the Giri from this community. That’s no small thing.”


“The deal is this, Mo. I get info to pass to my teammates, I have a need—not a want—a need to pay my rent. But, if you can find me a place that is to my standard American living conditions and find someone that can get my vehicle up and running in a safe fashion—then yes, I could start teaching when you want me to start.”


Mo smiles politely, stands up and refills Charlie’s tea before setting the pot back on the platter and turning to the patiently waiting crowd. Speaking in Cantonese once again, she addresses them. It seems to Luther that it’s something like a town hall meeting with various people asking questions. Some shaking their heads no, but a mostly, it was some form of debate and finger pointing.


(OOC: Espatier’s Human Perception Roll: 16.)


Minutes pass as Mo and the crowd debate. As is common with such things, irrational emotion rises from time to time. Ms Feng arrives with a woman wearing a bright yellow dress. The woman is very pretty with doe-eyes and a pale complexion. Her long, black hair is slicked back with rainwater and the dress clings to her petite frame.


Feng pauses at the mouth of the tent but the girl continues forward. Luther follows her progress with unabashed interest as she passes him. She makes her way to the kitchen area and gracefully serves up a bowl of noodles. Carrying the bowl of soup, she gracefully glides back to Cred-Stick Charlie’s side and places the bowl in front of him—and it smells like real food, which is rare.


“Please eat,” the girl in the yellow dress instructs with a melodic voice.


Luther smiles and offers a, “thank you.” She returns the smile and introduced herself as, “Hui Yin.”


“I’m told that you’re the one that is going to help teach us this year so we can send others to the American universities, yes?”


Luther is quiet, a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips as he smiles. “Perhaps...it depends on what is going on right now.” This comment results in more finger pointing, hand gestures, and argumentative words flying around. Mo watches his face with disconcerting interest from across the table, having returned to her seat.


“You want to teach Hui Yin to get smarter, yes?”


“No. No. its—”


“Joygirl, Hui Yin, will teach you, clean your room, wash your clothes and shop with your agent as needed, yes?”


Luther stops eating. He doesn’t want to, but the implications behind her comment are holding him fast.


“No one shops with my agent but me,” his voice grows cold. “We are talking things over and working things out still.”


“Hui Yin will sit and wait with you, yes?”


Charlie returns to slurping more noodles and nods, trapped by her insistence. After a few minutes, Mo leans forward to address the fixer.


“Charlie, here’s the final offer,” she looks to Hui Yin for a moment and then swallows with a faint downturn of her lips. “I’ll work on your truck’s transmission, power steering, and tire situation. Hui Yin will accompany you to your domicile, where she will… be yours… for the duration of your class. You’ll receive food while you’re teaching—that’s at least two meals a day—and you’ll teach for a minimum of twenty-hours per week for a total of one hundred and twenty hours. That’s six weeks. You’ll earn some definite Giri if your students proved decently proficient in basic English during that time. Should it all work out, we’ll look at renewing the contract for a second block of one hundred and twenty hours. By the end of the third block, your students should be fluent if everything I’ve read about these courses is correct.


“This is a generous offer from a people who don’t have much,” Mo’s eyes flick to Hui Yin and then back to the fixer. “And quite the commitment. Take the offer, Charlie.”


Luther considers her words while enjoying the flavor of the soy sauce laden broth and then nods, “So...maybe we can start as soon as—”


Mo passes her agent across the table once again.


“No more tests, please, Mo,” Charlie shakes his head tiredly.


“That’s not a test, Charlie,” she replies and Luther slides the device into his hands only to have Mo’s rough fingers cup about the top of his hand.


“We ask that you honor our customs and, this is not negotiable, Charlie. While you are teaching, you will be our guest. Will you agree to these terms?”


“Terms? Like what?” Luther asks while glancing at the contract on the agent.


Mo looks to Hui Yin.


Luther shakes his head, “I don’t need a babysitter. Besides, her English isn’t the best and it's just going to interfere with—”


“So, if I spoke better English, the very smart American teacher would be able to save all of the poor Chinese people?” Hui interjects in flawless English without even a hint at the accent she’d been affecting previously.


“You speak perfect English!” Exclaims the fixer, surprise written all over his face.


“Yes. I can speak it better than you, and several other dialects as well, but all you Americans ever want is some cute, weak Chinese girl that needs to be rescued. Forget it! the deal is off.”


She rises from the table still poised and elegant but spewing angry Cantonese words. “I don’t need, nor want, your help!”  


Hui Yun turns to leave in haste. Elders from the crowd speak harshly to her in their native tongue and fingers start to fly yet again. Hui pouts before seating herself again.


“I apologize for the outburst,” she states sullenly to Mo, but turns her body away from Cred-Stick Charlie. Hui falls quiet but it is blatantly obvious to the fixer that she remains mad about this whole deal.


“I didn’t mean to offend you, Ms. Yun. I came in here to get some information about a kid that I really need to find fast, before I got tangled up with your mom and dad.”


Hui peers over her shoulder towards the crowd, “They are my surrogate family that I owe because they bought my debt for the fees incurred to get me over here to the states. So, I make my money anyway that I can. Don’t take the offer, don’t eat our food, and continue to judge me by my work. I don’t need to be pitied.”


Hui stands and takes the bowl right from under Luther’s mouth leaving him dangling a dripping spoon over the table and even more Cantonese words fly again before she stops and sits back down again, slopping the bowl back in front of the well-dressed man.


Luther speaks, “Okay, let’s try to make this work without anymore yelling or raised voices. So, tell me why you need a outsider if Hui, here, can speak so fluently?”


“The schools here will not recognize my degree from China. In China, I’m a professor, not a joygirl. I have to do that here—I survive, okay? But, my sin card doesn’t work and I need a new one to work a legitimate job, but everyone knows me now, so even if I get a new sin it wouldn’t matter. I’m likely stuck working as a joygirl until I’m used up, and then what is there for me?”


“The Tong won’t let her teach,” Mo explains further as Hui sniffs away her emotion. “And, there are some pretty traditional people here who look at her as soiled. They don’t want her teaching their children.”


“Stay underground for about a year maybe, and then reapply. People change jobs or transfer all of the time. Apply for your teacher license under your new sin...simple,” Luther offers a solution.


“Yeah? Simple for you, maybe, but your corporations are different here.” Hui Yun counters.


“IF I help—not saying that I will—can we all get along here at the enclave?”


Hui eyes him suspiciously before relaxing her face back into softness, “Yes. My intent has always been to help the enclave. You finish eating, I’ll get my things, and then we will go to your home and begin.”


“With me?” Charlie asks incredulously.


“Yes,” she gazes at him with slightly parted red lips and wide eyes. “That’s the agreement, no?”


“What? No. That will not work.”


“Fine,” the joygirl sighs. “I will stay with you until you’re ready to leave, then.”


“No. I don’t need you to babysit me, but thank you.”


Hui throws a look Feng’s way and says, “Your right. He wants a man-boy instead still.”


“Just because I say NO to you does mean that I like man-boys, okay?”


“Okay. But I’m ready to leave after your done talking,” Hui replies.


“So... do we have a deal?” Mo interrupts with an exhausted expression on her face.


“Wait, no…” Luther stalls them. “Wait...this is all going too fast and I need time to think things over for a bit.”


“Charlie, there’s no time, right? Aren’t you searching for a missing child? We’ve offered extremely favorable terms. Hui is not a problem, she’ll be a big help to you.”


Luther looked hard and long at the agent in front of him, then turns to Hui and stands up. He holds out his hand invitingly. Hui adopts a quizzical expression but finally places her delicate hand in his and stands.


“I need a minute to confer with my new...partner about somethings in private, please.”


Mo nods approval and the two step deeper to the side the restaurant tent.


“Look...you don’t want me around and I don’t want you either. So, how can we work this out then?” Luther asks, not trying to be mean but needing to make sure his position is fully explained as quickly and succinctly as possible.


“I want to stop working as a joygirl, got that?”


“Yeah... so?”


“So you help me and I’ll help you, OK?” Hui proposes.


“What's in it for me?” Luther shares his infectious smile.


“That’s already been explained. Maybe you aren’t as smart as you think,” Hui smirks.


“I could always cut a new deal...leaving you out in the cold and back at work as a joygirl.”


“Yeah? I’m no dummy. I’ve got skills. I’m working for you once you agree to that contract—” she stares right into his eyes, “but no sex.”


“Fine with me,” rolling his eyes in a mocking fashion after Hui’s many such demonstrations, he ends it with a shake of his head.


“You’re really are not into Chinese girls are you?”


“Nope...36-24-36 only means something if she is five-foot-five-inches. I like them thick and not a stick!”


Hui giggles and smiles for the first time at Luther, “Okay, can you help me get my teaching license and a new SIN...maybe help some of the other girls too?”


“Help the other girls?” Luther asks. “We will see what types of contacts and friends that you have, later on, then I’ll see what I can do, Okay?”


Hui nods.


Both return to the table. Chinese words were spoken from Hui as she addresses Mo and the crowd begins to murmur again. Then, Hui steps to Charlie’s side and, with her head down, stands in silence.


Luther watches the submissive behavior, then turns to Mo, “Help provide info when I need it as you can, pimp out my truck as you’ve stated, food when I’m teaching, one hundred and twenty hours at twenty hours per week taught in the morning, Hui Lin, and Giri—” Hui elbows Luther “within Chinese culture.”


Mo continues to listen as Charlie dots the I’s and crosses the T’s.


“I teach no more than twelve kids 0700-1200, no restrictions, and Hui will work with me helping at your school. And she stays with her family.”


Hui Lin coughs politely into her closed fist.


“I mean,” the fixer glances up at her with a little annoyance written on his face. “She stays with me in my Americanized apartment.”


Mo makes Charlie wait for an answer and it seems to the Native American like an eternity before she speaks in response.


“Agreed,” Mo looks pointedly at the agent still resting on the table in front of him. “The contract awaits your signature.” Hushed exclamations of various levels of excitement rush through the gathered crowd.


“You start tomorrow morning, Charlie,” Mo offers him a look of finality as he puts his digital signature to the contract and returns the agent to its owner.


“I might be late...”


Mo begins to frown.


“My vehicle isn’t working and I’m already on a gig.”


Mo sighs and speaks to Hui for a bit in Cantonese. As they wrap up their conversation, Hui bends and softly speaks in the fixer’s ear, “Mr. Charlie, I will need your address and for you to sign a release form so Mr. Wong can pick up your vehicle from where ever it is, please.”


“Yes...that is fine,” Luther replies.


“I EXPECT you to be on time tomorrow. We’ll start on our end of the contract right away.” Standing, Mo Yimu holds her agent up. “Pass me your contact information, please.”


Charlie nods and complies, holding his now powered-up agent so that it can send the data direct.


Hui raises her agent to Charlie’s once the other two are finished, “I need to transfer some books about our language and culture to your device. You can start to learn about our traditions as soon as possible. I’d also like your contact information.”


Luther raises his agent to make the file transfer and notifications flood his neural pathways letting him know that the books on Chinese culture and the Chinese language, Cantonese, are needing his permission to download. He gives it with a thought.


“By your leave, Mr. Charlie?” Luther looks up to Hui as she draws his attention away from Mo.


“You’re going?”


“If it pleases you, Mr. Charlie, I wish to perform some tasks so that you will be ready for a very early morning. Perhaps you would like to look over the curriculum with me later, yes?” She’s adopted her joygirl act once more.


Luther nods to Hui knowing that she’s going to make her way to his conapt and use the code he provided to access it. He’s a lot of work to do on his own and the two hours he’s been given before linking up with the rest of the crew is fast coming to a close.



******************** End Luther’s Evening *********************


“Feelin’ better?” Vegas calls as the medtech steps into the mud and strolls towards where the team is gathering.


“A little,” Looking about, Colin continues, “Anyone up for EnduroDrink? Bet we could find some shops selling the stuff nearby.”


“That stuff tastes like s***, but you can live on it,” Blossom injects with a smile as she unwraps a lollipop. “I could use the boost.”


“Fine, we’ll see about grabbing some on our way out,” Vegas concedes. “Now, where’s that fix—There he is! Charlie! What’d you find out?


Charlie appears from a crowd of people with a youngish Chinese girl that is wearing a bright yellow dress with thigh high boots. She’s very pretty and carries herself in a submissive manner. A few words are exchanged between them and the woman turns to peer at a vendor’s wares well out of earshot. After Charlie approaches he explains, “Not much, but I hope that I’ll have more information later on.” He smiles to soften the blow of his failure.


“Well, that’s that,” Vegas grumbles and looks out at the mass still milling about despite the later hour of the evening. “OK, I’ll put it to the lot of you. Should we pay the headmistress of Bartholomew School a visit at her home—a place that is likely pretty heavily secured—or do we head on over to the Upstairs Downstairs, Inc offices and see if we can’t get Blossom some alone time with a server?”


Fixer had joined the others to get some rest. Even with it, he was still tired. He hadn't realized how tired he was before—he was used to running long hours when on a job. You just kept going on adrenaline until you no longer could. But the crashes could be long and he couldn't afford that now. And he'd never been a very big fan of running extra on the juice. One type of juice could lead to another type of juice which could lead to another and, well, bad things. So, he tried to avoid it. Good old sleep was what he needed and if it was only to be 2 hours, then so be it.  The kid probably didn't have a lot more, himself.


When they got out of their little coffins and the conversation turned to their next action, he stretched and looked at the others, "As I said, I'm in for checking on Mrs. White. But we want those personnel files. Names and work schedules. Plus, you've said a couple of times that only their vehicles came and went from the school. Was there any video evidence of Jace ever leaving the school? If not, is that because they don't have cameras at the exits or because he didn't leave? Those vans would be another option. Can we find plates on which vans left and when? Who was driving them? What their scheduled stops were?"


“Naw,” Blossom rolls her shoulders to stretch out the kinks from the coffin. “The vans come ‘n’ go, but the video ain’t clear ‘nuff to see any plates and they weren’t parked on camera where we could see who was in ‘em when they left. Jace was in his dorm last we can tell from the camera angles. Only Upstairs/Downstairs personnel an’ security caught on camera between him going to bed and the next morning when students are waking up.”


Charlie looks at his agent and notes the time as being 2305. “Well, it's way past oh-dark-thirty, so I think that we should consider the home office of Upstairs/Downstairs closed. Mr. Vegas, you’re right...a headmistress of a school with some worth to it would be a hard target but you still can put some 24-hour surveillance on it and see what still moves.”


Charlie then switches his attention to Ms. Blossom, “Any chance that you can work your magic remotely so that you don’t have to physically be on site?” he queries.


“Sure… there’s a chance. But breaking through their firewall remotely will likely alert them to the attempt, especially if I fail. I’d have a much better chance of hacking their systems on site.”


“I’d rather not risk shutting down our access to data prematurely,” Bloodbank chimes in.


“If the odds are in Blossom’s favor on site, then that’s where we’ll go,” Vegas agrees.


“Damn... you all look like hell...warmed over,” Charlie muses and changes the subject as he looks over the group. “I know that we as a collective don’t have too much and we have even more questions. So, I’ll make my part quick so that you guy can figure out what your going to do.”


“I would like to recommend that if you’re going to go through all of this mess that you should get a little something more for it, right?” Charlie smiles, “And what I mean by that is, my next proposal…” (OOC: Streetdeal Check = 12)


Charlie leans into the group with hushed tones, “Make your move on Upstairs/Downstairs look like a 211, you know...a burglary, and that way if something goes awry, then the kid doesn’t get moved or hurt. Anything that you guys take from the offices, you can take your time analyzing at your leisure later and make a few credits along the way.


“This is the part where I come in again.


“Anything that you take, you drop off to me and I’ll fence everything off for you. Look...you’re going to the home office, they also have several vans and maybe a few cars too. Load one up, or two...then I’ll help you get a clean pair of tags, registration, and a new ID if you wanted one. It will beats sleeping outdoors.


“Anyways...think about it. But I’m sure that everyone here is tired of walking, am I right, yeah?”


Ghalahn listens. He is good at listening and at watching. What he hears is people hopped up to do something but with little in the way of a concrete idea of what to do. As for watching, that shows the fatigue setting in on all of them.


“I don’t mind making some extra dough, choomba,” the crooner smiles his crooked smile. “But, do we have the skills to jack a ride?” He looks directly at Fixer as he says this.


(OOC: Fixer’s reply… )


“Any objections?” Vegas looks around.


“Yeah,” Bloodbank folds his arms across his chest, his battle mask facing the two fedora wearing men. “I’m not averse to breaking the law in the course of doing good—like finding Jace—but breaking the law solely for the sake of profiting is outside of my comfort zone.”


“Cool yer jets, Goody-Two-Shoes,” Blossom grins at the medic and pats around in her leather jacket before producing a wrapped lollipop. (OOC: Blossom's Persuade Check = 16) “The man has a point. Makin’ our little B&E look like we came for some goods and not information’ll throw any bloodhounds off our trail. It’s a good’ne an’ I’m for it.”


“Think of it as an additional safety precaution for the kid,” the dapper solo adds, but the medtech is having none of it. (OOC: Vegas' Leadership Check = 20)


(OOC: Bloodbank's Human Perception Check = 20)


“No deal. If you choombas are heading to the LZ to rob innocent people—because for all we know that’s what they are—then you’re doing it without me.” 


“OK, Ok,” Vegas holds up his hands. “We’re not heading into a possible hurt situation without a barber, so you win. No stealing nothin’. We good?”


“Yeah…” but the tone of Bloodbank’s voice is cautious.


“Good,” turning to the rest of the group, the crooner continues, “So, we good? Everyone on board? Fixer? Blossom? Echo? Ghlahn? Bloodbank? Casino? Charlie?” He waits to receive an affirmative from each of them before laying out the plan.


(OOC: Everyone's responses… )


“I’ve done some checking while people were taking their catnaps and it’ll take us about two and a half hours to get to the offices using public trans. Once there, we case the exterior of the joint and let those of us with experience breaching a complex—” he looks directly at Ghlahn and then to Casino, “—plan out how we’re getting this chica—” he throws a thumb in Blossom’s direction followed by a wink, “—to a hardline port, or whatever it’s called.


“Unless,” he turns to Cred-Stick Charlie, “you can get us a temporary ride, that is. If we had wheels it’d take us about an hour to get there. With an AV, we’re looking at fifteen minutes, tops. Or, what about you, darlin’?” he looks to Echo. “You’re with the Rolling State, right? Think you could pull some strings and land us a ride?”


(OOC: Charlie’s and Echo’s responses… )


(OOC: Time is 11:20 P.M. PST )



Posted on 2018-06-01 at 16:29:50.
Edited on 2018-06-01 at 16:40:57 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject:


Egads, Man! 'Tis no sweat. We miss you, of course, but RL always takes precedence. If it would help, I can pick up the roles of additional characters. I know Robert wouldn't mind as well. Anything to keep the boat flying.



Posted on 2018-05-29 at 16:00:15.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


I, too, would appreciate a concise consensus. Any word from Aletheia?



Posted on 2018-05-28 at 01:09:59.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject:


Anything Cracker owns is on his character sheet.  I sent you the link. 


Great interactions! Happy Memorial Day advance thank you all who serve and who have served .



Posted on 2018-05-28 at 01:08:24.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject:


We are excited to have you back. I haven't written any continuation because I believe that the ball is in your court.



Posted on 2018-05-21 at 10:58:03.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Thanks, Espatier. I have that sourcebook but as we're playing in the V3 version of Night City (basically), the Enclaves have taken over concepts of Chinatown, Little Japan, etc. mixing races based on alt-cults. So, in effect, there is no more Chinatown just a high concentration of like-minded, Chinese living within any given enclave alongside Japanese, American, English, Latino, etc...


Thank you for the posts thus far. We are still waiting on a post from Keeper and Aletheia before continuing.



Posted on 2018-05-21 at 10:55:34.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Great questions.



  1. Where was Jace last seen?  Was it at the school?  Was he ever seen leaving the school?  I'm asking because if he was never seen leaving the school those Upstairs Downstairs vans seem pretty important to me.

    Answer: He was last seen at the school outside of his dorm. The last recorded instance of him is the one that Blossom just found. He was not seen leaving the school.


  2. Is it possible to trace the vehicles? This would mean who was driving them, what their schedule was, and where they went. Did they reach their next scheduled stop on time?

    Answer: In order to trace the vehicles, one would need a clear shot of the license plate which you don't have. An alternative method is to find out which company vehicles were scheduled for the school through the company's computers that Blossom needs to be onsite to access. If she has access to their logs, she might be able to find information that will lead to the right vehicle and even a record of its GPS log.


  3. If Jace never left the school these seem like really important questions. If he did, they are borderline meaningless. 

    Answer: I like that you're thinking this through and that you posted the questions in character so there can be interaction... hint, everyone, interaction. I'm awarding you 1 Creative Currency for being engaged.



Posted on 2018-05-18 at 11:22:43.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Looking forward to it. 



Posted on 2018-05-17 at 10:41:01.

Topic: Fly Eagle Express
Subject:


Huzzah!



Posted on 2018-05-15 at 13:19:06.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Thank you for all of your posts. I enjoy the added flavor. 


I've updated the game. Here are some key points to help you with your posts.



  • Everyone regrouped outside of the mallplex and made your way to the bar (Glass Bottom Bar & Grill) together with the exception of Blossom who met you there.

  • It's been a good long while since you slept. I've taken the liberty of making Endurance checks for each of your characters and the results are in the post. Please play accordingly.

  • Enclave access is specifically tied to your dog tags. Each character has dog tags, but not all within your group are of the Edgerunner alt-cult. This means that those of you who aren't are treated with more suspicion than those of you who are, and when you are members, you're still treated with suspicion unless you're a regular (like Cred-Stick Charlie is).

  • Keep in mind that the time when you reach the Enclave is roughly somewhere around 9:00 PM and when everyone wakes from their naps, it is 11:00 PM. 

  • EnduroDrink is like a Monster only chemically charged to actually increase one's endurance for a short period of time. Each EnduroDrink will provide a +1 Endurance for 2-hours. So, in the case of being required to make another Endurance check (which a 2-hour nap will put off for 4-hours instead of 1-hour), you'd be at a +1 if such a roll is required within that 2-hour period of having ingested the drink. Too many of these can cause a heart attack.

  • Ms. White is the headmistress of the Bartholomew School. Her only connection with Upstairs Downstairs, Inc. is that she approved the contract.


I hope this helps. I look forward to your posts.



Posted on 2018-05-14 at 17:19:12.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject:


Glass Bottom Bar & Grill | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 7:52 PM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


The Reflection Fighters are on the radio and the bar is filled with the incessant humming of conversation. Patrons from the blue-collar populace have hedged in on the available tables but Echo’s sharp eyes are able to pick the netrunner out from the crowd and the team joins her in the booth with only minor acrobatics.


As the two women's eyes meet, Echo's face breaks into a rare full grin, happy to see the girl after spending the last hours with so much testosterone.


"Hola, Chica!" She says to Blossom, still grinning. "Thanks for saving space."


“Ha!” the chipper little Asian woman laughs at the sodden sight of the rest of her team. She appears to have either dried off already or somehow avoided the rain altogether. “You’re all wet.”


“We are,” Vegas slides in next to her, appropriating the position before the others can. “I’d weather worse to be by your side mon Cherie.”


Echo's eyes practically complete a 360-degree rotation in her head at the crooner’s move, wondering if she should mention his rudeness towards the poor doctor to Blossom, but deciding that though the pretty Asian might look fragile, she could most likely hold her own against him. Besides, she’s no telltale—that would be childish and the team doesn’t need anything to drive a wedge between them. Plus, she has her own issues to deal with.


Scooting into the booth opposite Blossom, she removes her balaclava and grabs a few napkins, trying to dry at least her face and hands, and focuses on putting what little info they gathered from the doc in the forefront of her mind while dismissing Vegas' shortcomings.


“Maybe the surveillance video will be helpful in determining who this kid hung with,” Blossom grins as though she knows something juicy. Pulling out her agent, the wardriver sets it on the table in front of the group, and as she’s activating the software, Bloodbank activates the wireless ordering system.


“I’ll take a Budweiser,” the medtech orders.


“Make that two,” Vegas adds looking down at the open bottle of Heineken in front of the Asian beauty.


"A Coke for me, please," Echo says, not wanting to dull her senses with alcohol. Plus, she dislikes the taste of beer, wine is more to her liking.


“Looking for interactions with the help…” Blossom begins to scan through the footage while at the same time, writing commands that will help her speed up the process.


The drink orders arrive at the hand of an attractive young Latino woman wearing a white blouse and a tight black miniskirt—standard dress code for waitresses, it seems. As edgerunners crack open their respective beverages, Blossom declares, “Take a look!”


On her screen is a timestamp indicating the afternoon before last… the final day Jace was seen at the Bartholomew School. Behind the timestamp, two figures are shown in deep shadow. One is obviously a child and with fairly minimal discernment, it is quite easy to see that the shadowy figure is Jace. The other is a tall, thin female figure with her features completely wrapped in shadows that are acting as good as a mask. There is, however, a patch visible to the camera on the left breast of her uniform that reads, “Upstairs Downstairs Inc.”


Upstairs Downstairs Inc. the fixer thinks as he listens to the conversations that surround him. Luther works his skills with scanning the interwebs on his agent while sitting at the bar/restaurant. He asks for just water. No alcohol for him.


"Near as I see it we've got a couple of options," the dapper solo leans forward after ordering his beer and addresses the team from beneath the brim of his fedora. "There is still a bunch of school staff that could have some insight. We could track each of them down and pay them visits like we did with the Professor back there. If we go that route, I suggest we start with this Ms. White. She's the headmistress, or whatever, for the Bartholomew School and may be able to clue us into some high-level s***.

"We can chase down whatever leads from this Upstairs Downstairs, Inc. I imagine that might take some more ops work but it seems like Jace had some cozy talk time with at least one of the employees. So, that might be our best lead yet.

"And last, but perhaps something that we can do while working on another angle, is that Cred Stick Charlie here might be able to put his feelers out to see what the word on the street is concerning the boy. I hear tell that blokes in your line of work, Charlie, are somewhat adept at that sort of thing. Starlight wouldn't have glued us together if she thought you could be anything but helpful."

"I've been through the footage with as fine a tooth comb as digitally possible," Blossom adds around the straw she has in her mouth. "The only vehicles that arrive on scene or leave during our window belong to the Upstairs Downstairs peoples."


"All of those options sound appropriate,” Ghlahn adds in a low, barely-audible tone, “but they sound like jobs for someone who blends in a bit more than I do. Unless you want to try to scare them into talking that is. If any of you want me to go with them I certainly won't say no, but if not I'll just watch from a distance for now."


Fixer listens to the options before chiming in, "Ok, well, all of that makes some sense. Certainly, Cred-stick should do what he does. That just makes sense. It is what he is here for. I'm for looking into the cleaning staff. Let's go talk to Mrs. White."


“Choombas!” Charlie states emphatically, “I found a website matching the description of Upstairs Downstairs Inc and it looks like we have a contact number with some standard Monday through Friday postings.”


Cred-Stick Charlie taps a few keys and then listens to the agent for a few seconds before continuing with a frown, “Yup, just  like I thought... answering service.”


As Luther sits and listens to the others, he begins to put in some work time on his Fixer Business. Luther taps away at his touchscreen as the group talks about everyone's next move. Absently pulling out his alt cult dog tags, he begins to rub them between his fingers for a bit. He takes a couple of sips of water and then closes his eyes and recites a Native American prayer.


Great grandfather, hear his child’s prayer, I need guidance and directing for this little one is lost in this growing metal city, for I have lost my way. This child asks for forgiveness for missing time with his living clan and not dancing in the great prayer circle. Luther sighs as if he didn’t get something inspirational or divine after his soft words and sits in silence.


Echo crumples the now sodden napkins into a ball and sets them on the table. She takes the time to look up and inspect their new team member, 'Cred-Stick' Charlie, scanning Ghlahn, and Casino as well. The petite nomad offers a polite nod to Charlie; a brief smile and nod to Ghlahn; and a broader smile and nod to the solo that makes her eyes sparkle when his meet hers. Suddenly realizing her gaze lingers too long on him, she grabs the damp napkins back off the table and dabs at her arms, blushing. Saved from anyone asking awkward questions by the arrival of their drinks, Elizabeth 'Echo' Cooper focuses on her Coke, listening to the ideas from the team and agreeing they were all good next steps before offering one of her own.


"Blossom", she asks, turning to the woman, "I'm guessing that vid has a timestamp on it? Could you get into their employee schedules and see which female workers were out there that day, and working in that building? That might save a bit of time by hopefully gaining some names without having to chat with the bosses. I feel the less we talk to regular folk", her eyes dart to Vegas and back before she can stop herself, "The less folk might be alerted to us coming about and asking questions."


“Already thought of that, Peach,” the hacker shakes her head slowly causing the reflection of overhead lights to sway within the heart-shaped sunglasses she wears. “There’s a timestamp, sure ‘nuff, but the employee records are sealed. I’d need to be on-site to pull that data. Good thinkin’, though!”


Casino listens to the various idea's he catches himself looking around at the other runners, his gaze settling on Echo. For better or worse there is a bond growing between them. "I think Blossom and Vegas are on the right track so I'm in. Let’s do as Fixer said; check out this Miss White."


Luther nods, then speaks, “Yeah, I’ll ask around a bit and see what kind of info that I can get and I’ll check back with you guys soon via agent.” He looks upon his alt cult dog tags, then nods to himself. “Anyone wanna go down to the Edgerunner's Enclave? We could take the underground shortcut near here... anyone?”


“You’re bailing on us?” Vegas stares flatly at the new addition to the team.


“Now hold on,” Bloodbank sets his beer down and leans forward. “We’ve been at this for no small amount of time and I’m willing to wager that not many of us are operating on much sleep. So, we either proceed with a lot of stim, or we catch an hour or two of shut-eye, and an Enclave could allow us some solid downtime while putting this man in his element.


“I know Jace doesn’t have a whole lot of time, but we’re no good to anyone dogged out and foggy.”


(OOC: Endurance Checks by Character rolled using Roll20.net. The current challenge level is 18. At this point, for every additional hour your characters go without sleep, the challenge level increases by one:


Bloodbank: rolling 1d10 + 12 = (5)+12 = 17 (exhausted - needs rest)


Vegas: rolling 1d10 + 19 = (10)+19 = 29 (Exploding 10) rolling 1d10 + 29 (4)+29 = 33


M'harú Ghlahn: rolling 1d10 + 12 (2)+12 = 14 (exhausted - needs rest)


Fixer: rolling 1d10 + 12 (5)+12 = 17 (exhausted - needs rest)


Echo: rolling 1d10 + 20 (3)+20 = 23


Casino: rolling 1d10 + 19 (6)+19 = 25


Blossom: rolling 1d10 + 12 (3)+12 = 15 (exhausted - needs rest)


Cred-Stick Charlie isn’t included in this because he joined the group later and it is assumed he’s operating on a full-night’s sleep.


)


“We don’t have that kind of time to waste,” Vegas argues while spreading his hands, palm up.


“I agree with Bloodbank,” Blossom mumbles, the charge seemingly draining from her as her shoulders slump with the realization of how tired she is.


Luther looks upon the group, “Well... if anyone changes their minds I can be reached on my agent.” Rising, he tugs his overcoat about him and reaches for his drone case.


“Now, hold on,” the Sinatra look-alike shakes his head and looks down at the table. “I don’t like the thought of us not being able to take action quickly when needed, so I’ll concede. How ‘bout the lot of us soft-shoe our way to this Enclave and everyone can get some rest while Charlie, here, does his song and dance routine. A couple of hours tops, and then we are back at it. What say you all?”


(OOC: Assuming no complaints&hellip


Luther turns and leads the group from the bar once they gather up their things.


Enclaves for the various alt-cults are staggered throughout the stretch of nano-builder constructs spanning the whole of the California coastline. Edgerunners, Desnai, Cee-Metal, Riptide… all of the alt-cults, and there are multiple Enclaves for each one with Edgerunner Enclaves being the most prevalent. The node in the dog tags syncs up with the agent to give directions to the Enclave entrances making it easy to find the one that each individual is associated with and dog tag I.D.s are shared across each alt-cult’s network to provide access for all members wherever they may be in the sprawling mass of humanity.


Once again being pelted by the cool rain, faces masked to filter against the harmful toxins in the air, the group find themselves traversing garbage infested alleyways, backstreet corridors, and narrow, busy streets filled with people focused on their various interests and barely paying the team any mind. Eventually, the Edgerunner’s agents notify each individual that they are upon the Enclave entrance as they come to the narrow, gated mouth of an alley.


Bathed in the red neon glow of a nearby sign, the dark street and alley present an ominous, devilish facade. Twisting and turning in on itself, the iron gate is a work of art the likes of which could rival the famous gates of Charleston, SC, and hunkered down beneath a sparse awning are two individuals wrapped in the shadow’s embrace. Standing in front of the gate, the team watches one of the shadows tear away from the relative comfort of the alcove, a single glowing red eye focusing on them.


With a trucker’s ball cap turned backward on his head and a NuCybe eye splice for his left eye, the burly looking, bearded caucasian fellow lumbers up to the gate with his hands tucked into the heavy wool peacoat he wears.


“Tags,” he says in a surprisingly high voice.


Charlie holds his up knowing that the node is being read by the cyberware in the gatekeeper’s eye. Stepping aside, he allows Vegas to move in next, then Blossom followed by Bloodbank. Next comes Casino and Fixer leaving the non-Edgerunner members for last.


“And these?” the Kevin Smith look-alike asks bluntly giving a nod to the remaining team members.


“They’re with us,” Vegas states, rolling his shoulders to throw the water from them.


“Oh yeah?”


“Yeah,” Vegas smiles his lopsided grin. “Bill me.”


“Count on it.”


Stepping up to the lock, the guard passes his hand over it and the gate clicks providing the team entrance.    


“Don’t need t’ remind you that this lot is your responsibility,” his red eye settles directly on Vegas’ sculpted face with an unsaid addition to the warning.


“Best behavior,” Vegas raised his hands defensively. “I promise.”


At the end of the alley, the team finds themselves stepping into an open bazaar with the massive skyscrapers and starscrapers framing the open-air marketplace in glittering borders that eventually break up the clouds overhead with crisscrossing walkways. Noise is a huge element of the atmosphere here; people calling out to each other, the hum of conversation mixed with the baritone of generator engines playing the baseline, and even the sounds of dogs barking. Navigating the maze is no easy thing. More often than not, vendors and service providers move their tents around to avoid bill collectors, take advantage of available space, and run various rackets and that’s just the market. The surrounding buildings are all Edgerunner Enclave property, locked down from the outside with access only given from within the bazaar. Inside those towering giants, more profitable businesses exist—those that can afford the storefronts—housing units are rented, gardens and parks exist, and eventually, the Enclave Council quarters look down over their small kingdoms.


Strolling down one of the sodden corridors, stepping over beer cans, plastic bags, and various other trash while trying to avoid bumping shoulders with equally drenched inhabitants, the team discovers a coffin motel off to the right.


Each coffin unit is stacked on top of the foundation units and clamped down using electromagnetic locking mechanisms to keep them from being knocked over by any event short of a cataclysmic one. Elevator platforms sit in front of each column with very little space between them and a CredChip Reader installed right on the platform. A holographic woman in a nighty hovers over the top of the whole assembly beckoning passersbys with an enticing gaze and a crooked finger while lounging seductively on her side. A much less attractive Asian man stands just in front of the temporary domiciles yelling in heavily accented English, “Get rest! You do it now! Cheap. No rats!” while a mangy looking, real-life dog, sits forlornly at his muddy, booted feet.


“This work for everyone?” Vegas turns and addresses his team. “Two hours enough time?”


“Two hours is better than nothin’,” Bloodbank nods and wearily walks past the crooner to board one of the elevator platforms.


“You no regret!” the Asian man grins exposing rotting teeth and blackened gums. “You sleep like baby.”


“Well,” Blossom stifles a yawn with the back of her hand. “That’ll keep me up.”


“I can think of other things much more pleasant to keep you up,” Vegas sweeps in with a roguish smile.


“So can I,” Blossom quips, tossing her soaked platinum hair over her shoulder with a deft turn of her head as she glides past the solo. “But I think I’ll try my luck with the nightmares for the time being, choomba.”


“She don’t know what she’s missing,” the fedora-wearing gunman grins at his partner. “You gonna try to get some shut-eye?”


(OOC: Casino’s reply… we can continue this conversation if necessary, otherwise, if Casino is down with catching some Z’s, then Vegas will resign himself to the same.)


(OOC: Two hours of sleep within the coffin compartment costs 5 NCD/hour, so a total of 10.)


To Luther, the Enclave is like an underground club scene. They have gaming to entertain the inhabitants as well as music, mind-numbing sounds blasting out of small to medium stalls in what the fixer can only call a soulk (Bazaar).


His shoulders relax a bit as he makes his way to find an Agent Center away from the matchbox sleep modules where the others are going to spend the next couple of hours. Luther knows that his agent won’t connect unless he can connect via the Enclave’s secured network. Once again using his dog tags as his ID, the Native American entrepreneur is allowed to make and receive network calls via his agent. Inside the booth, where Luther sits connected to the private network via his agent, it is hot and humid, sweaty-smelling, with the additional odor of “Dorph” smoke.


** SECURING LINES **


** TUNNELING **


** SECURED LINE ACHIEVED **


His agent’s app transcends from red to yellow while connecting, then finally green. Mentally activating the menu, he makes his selection.


VOICE CALLS --


Welcome to the Edgerunner Voice Network, Choomba. Who do you want to connect with? The pleasant female voice sounds in his head.


Kelsey Dawn, he responds.


His agent rings the other end to no avail till the voicemail picked up. “Ms Dawn? Yeah, this is Mr. Charlie. Yes, the one that met you during your Battle of the Bands downtown. Well, the reason why I’m calling you is simple... you’ve got talent and I would like to see—with your permission—if you would allow me to book a few gigs. If you’re interested in making some additional money?”


She’ll know how to reach him so Luther doesn’t leave anything further. Mentally disconnecting the call, he reaches out again.


VOICE CALLS --


Welcome to the Edgerunner Voice Network, Choomba. Who do you want to connect with? The pleasant female voice sounds in his head.


"Sunny" Higgins, he sounds off.


His agent rings the other end, but again, to no avail resulting in voicemail picking up.


“Ms Higgins... it’s me, Mr Charlie. Are you still interested in my proposition about making some extra credits as my secretary? We can work out the details over dinner if your free this week.”


He again disconnects and charts another call.


VOICE CALLS --


Welcome to the Edgerunner Voice Network, Choomba. Who do you want to connect with? The pleasant female voice sounds in his head.


"Packer" Jones, he inputs.


Voicemail again...


“What’s crackin Packer? You still got that boom boom, POW, dorph right? I think that I might have a new drop for you to set up shop soon. I’m dealing with a rocker group so I’m talking exclusive rights if you want to work a little something, something, player. So if you're feeling me, hit me up... No shade…


“Mr Charlie, peace out.”


And another disconnect. Luther is tired of talking to voicemails, but this is what fixers need to do to be that type of person. It is just like the others said, “Feast and Fame or Famine and Foolhardiness.”


Damn can’t a brother catch a break here, Luther thinks back to his prayer and closes his eyes while mouthing the words, “Please Grandfather...”


VOICE CALLS --


Welcome to the Edgerunner Voice Network, Choomba. Who do you want to connect with? The pleasant female voice sounds in his head.


Yo Suk-Chul, he thinks, hoping his prayer has been heard. This time, there’s a click on the other end.


“‘Sup?”


“CHOOMBA! Mr. Charlie here, and I got some sweet deals on some new shoes. Croakers that don’t ask questions, so let’s config something, eh? And if you need an experienced dropman, hollar atcha boy, here first!”


“Sigan-i majchwoseo, Mister Charlie! How many do you got? What’s the tag?”


“8 pairs of shoes, Choomba,” remarks Luther. “Eight hundred.”


“We’ll take six,” Yo Suk-Chul immediately responds. “How soon can you have them delivered?”


“As soon as I can get a runner to drop them off, I'll contact you to drop a pin so I’ll know where to meet.”


“You got it,” the voice on the other end responds. “Don’t wait too long. Gotta move the merch. It’s starting to stink.”


** CALL ENDED **


“Thank you, Grandfather,” Luther says out loud, his voice echoing dully from the odorous booth. Now he’s got to find some runners to drop off the goods.


VOICE CALLS --


Welcome to the Edgerunner Voice Network, Choomba. Who do you want to connect with? The pleasant female voice sounds in his head.


Tomás Japón, he orders, but he’s back to voicemails.


“Vato, Diego me! You need some work Perro?!”


Cred-Stick Charlie manually ends the call while trying to hide his frustration.


VOICE CALLS --


Welcome to the Edgerunner Voice Network, Choomba. Who do you want to connect with? The pleasant female voice sounds in his head.


Flore "Feathers" Messier, his thoughts refocus only to have his frustration levels rise with the sound of her voicemail service answering.


“Feathers!” he attempts to hide his consternation. “Hey, baby girl, you need some work? You know us natives need to stick together, right FAM?”


** END CALL **


Luther sighs, “Just one Grandpa, but thank you for that one.” Exiting his private booth, he begins to wander about the enclave in search of GIRI work. Heading towards the vehicle yards where sounds of engines and the clanking of the metal ring out over the blasting, grinding, music.


Putting out his feelers to other fixers on the network as well as asking around the enclave about doing some “back-scratching,” Luther asks around a bit to several vendors. He makes several posts within the Enclave’s network sites to a mess of info brokers to assist with working on his problem. With time all problems would get solved, but Luther doesn’t have time and neither does the quarry. Charlie spends more of his time posting with his NuCybe interface about trading GIRI for pay or additional GIRI as well. Soon, Luther hopes to gain more information than just an address, agent number, and webpage.


Looking over his last posting to the network boards to see if it had the “hustle and flow,” he decides to drop another post. Fingers flying across his agent’s touchscreen, Cred-Stick Charlie writes...


What’s good FAM, Bless up!


Mr Charlie here...


Listen up players and playettes, I’m on one!. I’m out here to ride hard with my new Fam here in the night city and I ain't got nothing but love and want to share my blessings, so welcome to the hot spot and I’m looking to trade and make Giri with affiliates. No shade to the haters because I’m just getting my grinding on. I’m looking to wheel and deal while making some Giri, so hit me back if you got something that you might need help with. Hollar atcha boy boy first. Remember FAMILY over friends, no shade.


[email protected]_City#9246


Cred Stick Charlie


Satisfied with his GIRI post, he is confident that work or GIRI will come his way. So, to pass the time, Luther makes his way through several crowded, small, traffic-heavy areas. Inquiring with different vendors that are hawking their wares along the way.


(OOC: Espatier rolled 1d10+9 Gather Info (6)+9 = 15 (Streetwise), to Streetdeal: 1+11 = 12


Looks like Charlie isn't getting any good results yet.)


Time’s rolling up on the two-hour mark and still no love from the network. Resigning himself to a bad report, Cred-Stick Charlie makes his way back to the coffin motel.


Two hours just isn’t enough to be fully rejuvenated, but it is enough to pull him together for a few hours. Soft guitar wakes Bloodbank from his slumber and for a moment the medtech doesn’t know where he is. He’s staring at a ceiling scarred by deep cut graffiti in the cream-colored plastic, marked by pen and—Is that blood?—, but then it comes back to him. Jace, the team, their timetable… snatching the agent from his chest, Colin rolls over and hits the call button. A couple of seconds later he’s greeted by a beep as the lift arrives and his coffin door unlatches. Pushing the door open, the medic slides out and drops his booted feet to the corrugated steel platform of the lift, hoisting his bag over his shoulder in the process.


Scanning his surroundings through the eyeholes of his combat mask, Colin breathes in the filtered air and considers how tired he still is. Could he operate under these conditions? Yes. Would it be better if he had a clearer head and less fatigue? Yes. Thinking back to his Medical School days, Bloodbank considers their options.


“Feelin’ better?” Vegas calls as the medtech steps into the mud and strolls towards where the team is gathering.


“A little,” Looking about, Colin continues, “Anyone up for EnduroDrink? Bet we could find some shops selling the stuff nearby.”


“That stuff tastes like s***, but you can live on it,” Blossom injects with a smile as she unwraps a lollipop. “I could use the boost.”


“Fine, we’ll see about grabbing some on our way out,” Vegas concedes. “Now, where’s that fix—There he is! Charlie! What’d you find out?


(OOC: Charlie’s turn to report&hellip


“Well, that’s that,” Vegas grumbles and looks out at the mass still milling about despite the later hour of the evening. “OK, I’ll put it to the lot of you. Should we pay the headmistress of Bartholomew School a visit at her home—a place that is likely pretty heavily secured—or do we head on over to the Upstairs Downstairs, Inc offices and see if we can’t get Blossom some alone time with a server?”


(OOC: Time is 11:05 P.M. PST)



Posted on 2018-05-14 at 17:11:03.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Congratulations! Glad to hear it.



Posted on 2018-05-12 at 21:15:21.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Where is everyone? Guys? Hello?



Posted on 2018-05-05 at 09:56:15.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject:


I steal Roger's words all the time. Shamelessly. 



Posted on 2018-05-01 at 17:46:09.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject:


I knew the culprit well... I spent yesterday prepping my drone for some fly time. I was just checking.



Posted on 2018-04-30 at 09:04:05.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject:


Has Spring taken the crew's attention? Argh an' all that!



Posted on 2018-04-29 at 16:52:20.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: A little help...


"Near as I see it we've got a couple of options," the solo leans forward after ordering his beer and addresses the team from beneath the brim of his fedora. "There are still a bunch of school staff that could have some insight. We could track each of them down and pay them visits like we did with the Professor back there. If we go that route, I suggest we start with this Ms. White. She's the headmistress, or whatever, for the Bartholomew School and may be able to clue us into some high-level s***. 


"We can chase down whatever leads from this Upstairs Downstairs, Inc. I imagine that might take some more ops work but it seems like Jace had some cozy talk time with at least one of the employees. So, that might be our best lead yet.


"And last, but perhaps something that we can do while working on another angle, is that Cred Stick Charlie here might be able to put his feelers out to see what the word on the street is concerning the boy. I hear tell that blokes in your line of work, Charlie, are somewhat adept at that sort of thing. Starlight wouldn't have glued us together if she thought you could be anything but helpful."


"I've been through the footage with as fine a tooth comb as digitally possible," Blossom adds around the straw she has in her mouth. "The only vehicles that arrive on scene or leave during our window belong to the Upstairs Downstairs peoples."



Posted on 2018-04-29 at 16:48:07.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


There's no need to apologize, Tann. There are a couple of players who have things going on and we all understand.


As for what to post next...


Blossom has shared through the video that the name of the support services company is Upstairs Downstairs, Inc. Charlie will have dug up the office locations address and websites (something that any of you could do if Cred Stick Charlie gets too busy with his personal business to share the information... not that he will, but just in case). 


The group needs to decide what your next course of action is and it looks as though if the conversation isn't scintillating enough, Charlie's going to book it to his enclave.


For the sake of making things a little easier, Vegas will suggest the following:


"Near as I see it we've got a couple of options," the solo leans forward after ordering his beer and addresses the team from beneath the brim of his fedora. "There are still a bunch of school staff that could have some insight. We could track each of them down and pay them visits like we did with the Professor back there. If we go that route, I suggest we start with this Ms. White. She's the headmistress, or whatever, for the Bartholomew School and may be able to clue us into some high-level s***. 


"We can chase down whatever leads from this Upstairs Downstairs, Inc. I imagine that might take some more ops work but it seems like Jace had some cozy talk time with at least one of the employees. So, that might be our best lead yet.


"And last, but perhaps something that we can do while working on another angle, is that Cred Stick Charlie here might be able to put his feelers out to see what the word on the street is concerning the boy. I hear tell that blokes in your line of work, Charlie, are somewhat adept at that sort of thing. Starlight wouldn't have glued us together if she thought you could be anything but helpful."


"I've been through the footage with as fine a tooth comb as digitally possible," Blossom adds around the straw she has in her mouth. "The only vehicles that arrive on scene or leave during our window belong to the Upstairs Downstairs peoples."



Posted on 2018-04-29 at 16:47:42.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Espatier, I've left a bunch of feedback in the GDOC. 



Posted on 2018-04-22 at 14:51:42.

 


  Partners:       Dungeons and Dragons resources, from 2nd to 4th Edition gamegrene.com | for the gamer who's sick of the typical Dungeons and Dragons Adventures, #1 resource for D&D Dungeons and Dragons 4th Edition  
View/Edit Your Profile | Staff List | Contact Us
Use of the RDINN forums or chatrooms constitutes agreement with our Terms of Service.
You must enable cookies and javascript to use all features of this site.