Shadowrun: Tacoma Tales

Game Master bookscorpion

"Yeah, he's probably holed up somewhere." Toma looks around, plenty of hiding places, even for one of his size. "Think we should honk as we drive by, or try to reach him somehow." It didn't feel too good leaving Carl out here by himself, Toma was starting to get a bit worried.

Bruce actually frowns at that, but it leaves as quickly as it came. "Feels like honking should be the last resort." Remembering what was said about the van has him hesitant to really try drawing attention to it, and having blood all over the back would just have people assuming the worst. "We know his name, just lean out an' do a stage whisper."

He'll drive closer to some of the ruined buildings, figuring someone as big as Carl couldn't just crouch down and hide from the cops. He has thought of the possibility, though, so he's keeping an eye out.

The troll opens the door wide enough that Carl can step into the house and closes it behind him. He ushers Carl into in a big room with scavenged or homemade furniture off the hallway. The smell of cooking is stronger inside the house and from upstairs comes the sound of people talking in low voices. The troll introduces himself as Dario. He's barely out of his teenage years, but easily as tall as Carl and looks like he can handle himself in a fight even better than the average troll. The streetsweeper shotgun he wears as a sidearm probably helps with that, too.

He gives a quick smile: 'I'd shake hands, but there's a problem with that we better solve first.' He hunts in a box with tools and comes up with a lockpick that looks ridiculously tiny in his hands. 'Saw you trying to help with the car crash.' He gestures to his datajack before stepping behind Carl and getting to work on the handcuffs. 'We keep an eye on things with drones, best to know what's going on in the neighborhood here. Speaking of which, there's a van turning off main street, think it's the one you jumped out of?'

Carl is really genuinely gobsmacked, until he hears the part about the van. "Oh crap, Anis!" He jumps up. "We took the van to get Anis, a guy from our apartment complex, to a hospital. Somebody jumped him bad."
"Are there any good exits I can use? I should check on them and Anis, and I don't want to be in your way any more than I have to. Also, I'm at Apex Apartments, and I work at a nearby garage. You ever need something, you just ask. Even if I'm not as handy in a fight as you probably are." He gestures to the Sweeper. "A minotaur's never without a weapon."

Dario hands him the handcuffs: 'A souvenir... Yeah, you can cut across the yard outside. That'll bring you to the corner down the street, away from the cops and you can get into the van without them noticing. They're probably too busy anyway to look for a guy they know perfectly well hasn't done anything. Although they might remember your face later, if they need someone to take the blame for something, but I guess you don't need me to tell you that.'

The yard is cluttered with debris and overgrown with brambles, nettles and other weeds. Someone keeps rabbits in a hutch and a couple of chickens come running to see if there will be any food when they step outside. Dario shoos them away and leads Carl to another door across the yard, through a much more derelict building than the one they came from and opens the door that goes out on the street after taking a moment to apparently check the video feed from the drone. 'Stay safe, okay? Not that many of us around.'

The street seems deserted for Bruce and Toma, although a drone takes a short dip from the roof to get a better look at the van. It's not a police drone, just a small toy drone and probably nothing to worry about. When they reach the corner of the side street where they can either circle back to the main street or go deeper into the former industrial area, a door opens and they can see Carl with another troll.

Carl lifts his head high, baring his throat. "Seriously, thank you. Drop by some time. You're always welcome."

He looks both ways on the street, and heads out to the van. When he gets there, he finds a seat, but seems anxious. Seems to take a second to breath before he asks, "How's Anis? He make it?"

The drone catches his eye, but Bruce isn't really all that worried about it. It wasn't much to focus on when a familiar weight added itself to the back of the van, so Bruce turned to face Carl with... it was something he counted as a smile, at least. The corners of his mouth were upturned if only for a moment.

"He made it. Accordin' to the doctor, we got there just in time." There was probably some merit in Carl deciding to tuck and roll, though there was the slight concern about what happened to either orc. "You can also start convos with hi, though." He's joking, don't worry.

"The doc's going to contact his father and let him know what happened." Toma sighed a big breath of relief and looked over Carl, pointing to his new wound. "I take the Loners didn't take kindly to your interference. I can look you over if you'd like when were back at home."

"If you don't mind. The cops got in a bit of a firefight, and I made a new friend. I hope it all works out, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's to not be there when the authorities are 'working something out'."

The drive back to Apex Apartments is a quiet one, after Bruce circles around the block to avoid the crime scene. Someone has mopped up the blood in the entrance and people have gone back to work or to sleep. It all looks like nothing ever happened.

On the way up to Bruce's apartment, Mr McNeal from one floor down pops out of his apartment as if he had been waiting behind the door. Which he probably has, the man is the neighborhood watchdog. He wants to know how things went and in exchange for the information, explains that Anis' dad is on the way to the clinic and adds some complaining about the state of the world, no-one is safe, we will all be murdered in our beds. His duty done, he retreats into the safety of his home.

Well, at least Mr. McNeal was consistent. After unlocking his door, Bruce knocks twice and pushes the door open. He doesn't explain why he does this, but the little walker drone seems to have appreciated the gesture. His apartment is... it's okay. It doesn't seem like a place someone sleeps, since there's no obvious bed and the most "lived-in" section is a table with a computer, a toolbox, and some assorted parts on it.

Already slipping the backpack off his shoulder, Bruce gestures to the somewhat beat-up couch resting against the near wall to the right. "Think there's enough room for you two." He can clean it up later on. Plopping his backpack down on the seat of his computer chair, he opens it up to let his sewer snake drone out of it, glancing down at the Evo Proletarian . "[Yep, we actually have visitors. Be good.]" Turning back to Carl and Toma, he switches back to English. "Coffee? I can make a few cups if y'want some." He jerks a thumb back at the "kitchen" set up: a microwave, a small fridge, and a coffeemaker.

"A cup would be nice, thank you." He turns to Carl and gestures at the couch. "It doesn't look too bad...Looks like you got grazed. Let me get some bandages." He turns again and sets the medkit on the edge of the table, and starts rummaging around for the disinfectant and bandage patch.

"No thanks, man." Carl looks up from his slightly jittery hands. "Getting back into gang fights and dealing with cops? I'm not gonna sleep for a week anyway."

He lifts his shirt so Toma can get a better look. "Appreciate you taking a look, Doc. Stings something awful. Somehow, getting shot at was so much more fun when I was some 15-year-old punk."

"Anyway, I think that there's something going on with Anis suddenly being attacked. That kind of stuff usually doesn't come out of nowhere, and when it does, it means something's up. I'd ask around, but I don't really know anybody on the streets anymore."

Pulling out disinfectant, some rags and a bandage, Toma applies a rather generous amount of the bottle onto the rags. Looking up he replies, "It's no problem." He shrugs. "Maybe someone around here saw what happened, Anis is a good kid, surely someone'll speak up for him."

After coffee, some first aid and some deliberations, everyone trecks up to the 14th floor. On foot, the elevator is out of commission. Again.

Mrs. Czarnecki opens her door before anyone can knock, she has probably been watching the security camera feed. She's in her 50s, dressed in a polka-dotted skirt and blouse that threatens to give anyone a migraine who looks at it too long. The datajack under her ear is the only sign that she's not your usual Polish grandma. "Come in. How's Anis? I saw his father leave just now."

Her apartment is very neat, with a lot of family photos covering every surface. It smells of tea and cookies and she offers both to everyone. "What can I do for you?", she calls from the kitchen.

"I think he'll be okay." Carl accepts some tea, and sits with it, just breathing the smell in. Eventually, he looks up and says "my biggest worry is who did it. This was supposed to send a message. If it was a punch or two, or a single stab, it might be a mugging or something, but ..."

"Some tea would be lovely, thank you." He sits down accepting the cup. "Maybe he owed somebody money? I don't think Anis would start too many fights on his own. We got him to the hospital, so he should pull through." Toma takes a drink of the tea, arguably one of his favorite parts of visiting Mrs. Czarnecki is her hospitality.

Bruce takes one of Mrs. Czarnecki's cookies with a nod, taking a seat after everyone else has. He's quiet for a moment, partly because Toma and Carl covered Anis' status, and partly because he was trying to figre out what to ask her. There was a reason for this visit, after all. "I think we wanna know if you saw anythin'," he starts. "Reasons aside, whoever did this put Anis through the wringer, so knowing who did it might be a start." To what, he wasn't sure. He wasn't trying to suggest revenge, but this feels like something people shouldn't get away with. Anis is a good kid.

Mrs. Czarnecki is surprisingly well prepared for a troll visitor. Carl knows this because he built a chair for her once that can carry the weight, for one of her grandchildren, and now he gets to sit on it and also gets a huge mug of tea that he can actually hold and not just daintily tweeze between two fingers.

"I haven't seen anything, but you bet I checked my cameras when I heard. And the people who did this knew enough to keep away from the official security cameras, but they didn't notice mine." The pride in her voice is loud and clear. "Here, take am look."

Everyone with active AR can see a file pop up in midair, represented as an old-fashioned film reel. Without AR, commlinks blink with a notification: do you wish to play the file 'Anis'? The footage is good quality, despite the low light and shows Anis coming home, parking his bicycle in the little hut in front of the building. A jump cut later, he's opening the front door and gets jumped by four people, three orks and a troll. Each member of the group wears a jacket in black and grey and they all have made no attempt to hide their faces. They're fairly young, all in their teens or early twenties.

It's overkill, Anis doesn't stand a chance, and he goes down quickly, curled up on the ground, just trying to protect himself from the kicks, punches and the baseball bats. When one of the orks pulls a knife and starts stabbing Anis, the others pull him away and they seem to have a short but heated discussion. When it's over, the troll grabs Anis' backpack and they walk away. Not slowly, but they don't run either, just make their way to the street. Another jump cut to a van driving off, with a close up on the license plate, grainy but readable.

"It's the backpack. They didn't want to kill him, but I feel like they'd say something if they were trying to send a message. Any guesses what's in it? Drugs, tech, or information?"

Carl puts his mug down so he doesn't crush it. They had no need to beat him so bad. If they wanted it to just look like a mugging they coulda just killed him instead.

"He might not even had a clue about what he was carrying." Toma shakes his head looking at the footage repeat. "I don't think they'll come after him again now that they have what they are after." He sips some of the tea provided.