The Free Access quality only applies in cases where they're trying to Trace your location, whereas right now, the system's Firewall just happened to catch your hacking attempt. I'm also not sure whether hot sim itself reduces the hacking time--from my reading that's only determined by using AR versus VR for the work. Hot sim does make you better at pretty much everything during the hacking, though, and if you already included the bonus then you're certainly using it. Nix, if you're in hot sim as well, then your initiative technically beats the IC--not that it matters for this passs, since its attack didn't do anything.
Pam raises an eyebrow when you mention her family, and the other joins it when you say "shadowrunners." She doesn't say anything, but her lips purse in an expression you've come to recognize as hesitantly concerned. You and Pam are both capable of taking care of yourselves, and you both know it, but running the shadows is a different beast than chopping cars and cooking the books.
When you explain the run, Pam is quiet for a moment, thinking, and then she elbows you in the ribs. "If you know what you're getting into, I ain't gonna stop you. But if you come home full of bullets some night, you'd better not get any drek on the floor. And I call getting to say I f*cking told you it's dangerous." She finishes her cigarette and stubs it out on a coaster used for that purpose. "And your first pay is replacing that spanner you lost." She winks, slaps your thigh, and stands up.
"Now, since you've got a big job and big pay coming in, why not splurge a little? There's that sushi place down on Boylston. You're paying?"
Nix and Paladin--Pentagon Hacked!:
Having found all you can on the public node, the two of you settle into a seat and enter full VR, preparing to probe at the private node kept by the Classic; it's much quicker than working in AR, but still takes a while to ensure you won't trigger too many alarms or be easily found by any IC on-site. Paladin does most of the heavy lifting, but Nix assists, providing some extra hands--all proverbial, of course.
The Classic's node looks essentially like an old-fashioned movie theater: a glass-windowed foyer out front, with a booth where you have to "buy a ticket" before entering the lobby. In this case, the ticket serves as your account access: basic, security, or admin. A basic account won't provide any more information than the public node, and you both know that the type of information you want is going to need at least a security account, probably admin status. So the two of you begin prodding at the defenses, looking for a way to trick the "booth" into giving you admin tickets.
Unfortunately, it's just after you've hit the point of getting a security account that you stumble over a bit of code, and it's too late to catch the mistake by the time you realize it. A shrill bell tone rings out, and shutters roll down over the booth's windows, locking it off, at least for the moment. One of the doors to the lobby opens, revealing an androgynous humanoid figure dressed in a downright outdated uniform--although the taser in its hand looks modern enough. INTRUDERS DETECTED, it buzzes, raising the weapon. ENGAGING.
Surprised by the sudden appearance of the IC, Paladin doesn't respond before it launches its first attack. The taser flickers with electricity, even in the digital world of the Matrix, but Paladin's commlink is well equipped to deal with countermeasures like this, and his icon isn't disrupted by the attack. The IC, emotionless program that it is, doesn't seem fazed by the failure of its first attack.
You guys are up! You didn't specify whether you were running in cold or hot sim--I've assumed cold for your initiative rolls, since there isn't much reason you'd have run hot for something like this. Just bad luck that it caugh you.
Rune's Astral Excursion:
Assensing Sarge and Wraith, you can tell that neither of them are Awakened, and both sport some cyberware. Wraith is still a little on edge from whatever bothered her earlier, but even as you look it fades fast. Sarge is fairly serious, although not overly so. As you move away, you hear Wraith asking about making out.
You move around and through the building, undetected, noting important elements as you see them. The building only has a few ways in and out: the front door, a side door that's probably for maintenance and deliveries, and a small door out back that's likely an emergency exit. Inside, the main floor is set up as a cross betweeen an old-timey theater and restaurant: the lobby has a podium with menus, presumably where the host will greet customers and take them to their seats. A curtained doorway leads to the main room, furnished with comfortable chairs around tables, ranging from two seats to eight; it's all positioned so that everyone can have a view to the large screen and stage where the trid would be projected.
Also in the main room is a desk with equipment where the patrons presumably pay for their tickets and food. It's unfortunate that the desk would be here, and given modern systems it's not really necessary... but it's probably to add to the atmosphere of the place.
As for the people, a pair of them are cleaning the main room; a boy wipes tables while a girl cleans the floor; modern conveniences aren't really designed for a space like this, so it falls to the employees to do the menial labor. They look to be younger, maybe in their late teens, and they trade some small talk and jokes back and forth as they work. Both have auras that suggest they aren't happy to be here, although the boy also has a touch of desire--perhaps a crush on his fellow worker.
In the kitchen, the workers are both men, both older, and both happier in their work. They look to be just straightening things out for now, getting ready for the evening's work. Nothing about them catches your interest; the only thing to note is that the older of them has a datajack implant, but that isn't out of the ordinary.
There's no one else in the building, although a staircase leads to an upper floor that looks like it just has a small office and a room for the trid projector. After taking a second pass to make sure everything's in order, you move to return to your body, having spent less than a half-hour scoping out the site.
The two of you stand by after Rune slumps down, and although Wraith presents a suggestion of how to pass the time, Sarge finds it in himself to turn down the offer. That decision pays off, as a few minutes later, Wraith hears some movement from further down the alley. She glances over...
Wraith Visual Perception:12d6 ⇒ (5, 4, 4, 5, 4, 6, 4, 4, 1, 3, 6, 4) = 504 hits
...and sees two figures coming down from the other end. They're relaxed in their movements, not on edge or carrying weapons, just a pair of humans wearing synth-leather jackets. As you watch, one of them even turns to the other, walking backwards long enough for you to see a stylized (some might say bastardized) B on the back of the jacket--the same as the Johnson was wearing.
What will you do?
Just a note to you all if you're curious, as I don't mind you reading the spoilers to see what the others are up to: none of the events at the moment are coinciding, which is why there's no interaction between them in my descriptions. Given the timing of things, if we were to put these on a timeline, it would actually go in reverse order of what I posted: Sarge and Wraith's encounter, followed by Rune finishing up his reconnaissance. Nix and Paladin's hacking would take place a while after that, since they spent an hour hacking before the security pinged, and finally Geezer is speaking with Pam late in the evening.
Alright everybody, my apologies again for an extended and unexpected delay. There were a lot of reasons that went into it, including my own mental state and life getting hectic as I started at a new job, which was draining on several levels. That said, I definitely want to get this back on track and I'm very hopeful that I'll have a more reasonable and stable posting schedule from here on, at least for a while. Thank you for bearing with me, and now back to our regularly scheduled program.
...That said, I'll give you what updates I can here, but it won't be a ton at the moment. Looking at where things are, it seems that the team is split in three groups. Nix and Paladin are heading to Paladin's apartment, where they'll do some Matrix research on this place; Rune is heading to a (presumably inconspicuous) spot near the dine-in theater to do some Astral scoping; and Geezer is hanging out (in the Green Rhythm? or maybe at his and Pam's) until he hears what she's able to find out about your employers. If anything is wrong there, or you want to specify something, please let me know in Discussion; for now, I'm posting assuming that's all at least mostly correct.
Finally, it's worth noting that right now, and probably for future jobs, time may get a little hazy during any "setup" periods like this one, where you're getting ready for the run but the specific order of events/timing of things isn't super important. If we need to iron out when things are happening relative to one another, we can, but until it matters I'm happy to handwave things and say you share information as you find it. Of course, you're always free to actually RP how you tell the others what you've discovered!
Geezer and his Girl:
Hope you don't mind me writing for Pam, and I also hope I do a decent job of it. I think your story sample in the profile and what you've written so far has given me a decent idea. Also, if you want to do anything specific during the day before Pam gets back to you, let me know. Pam's Street Knowledge:7d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 6, 4, 4, 6, 1) = 283 hits. This is calculated assuming Pam has roughly average Intuition (3), but plenty of knowledge of Boston's gangs (and who to ask) thanks to her upbringing and occupation (4), and I'm sharing it with you so you can mark it down for future reference if you like.
Later that evening, you're back at your apartment flat when Pam finally comes in. She looks pretty usual, a little worn out from a busy day but still with plenty of piss and vinegar to keep her running. There's some small talk, a short shouting match over what brands and varieties of alcohol are kept in the place, and once things have calmed down again (relatively speaking) she speaks as to your earlier question.
"First off, I don't know how the hell you meet half the people you do, but I'm not sure I want to. Just don't bring 'em round here unless they're looking to help or to buy." Her Boston-Irish accent is as hard as always, but you can sense the slightest hint of concern--some might say it approaches caring, even. She lights a cigarette and savors it before continuing. "Anyway, I asked around a little, talked to Mark down Dorchester and all?
"Sounds like the Baby B's. Kinda funny, since that used to be what they called the Bruins' minors, not the Sox..." She pauses and glances at you, realizing that you probably either don't know or don't care about the minutiae of old Boston sports. "Anyway, I'm surprised you asked about 'em. From what I heard, they ain't exactly big players these days. Used to be pretty popular, all about city pride and that, a lot of the locals liked them. Mark said he even drank with some of 'em a couple times down at a pub, watching a game or something. But I guess a year or two ago, something happened, suddenly they ain't doin' so hot."
Pam shrugs and takes another long drag of her cigarette. "You run into one of 'em or something? Hope you didn't hit him too hard."
Nix and Paladin, Cyber Hackers:
In Shadowrun, aiding someone else does indeed call for rolling the same test (I'd allow a different one that seems fitting in some cases); each hit you get adds 1 die to the primary actor's dice pool, up to a limit of your own Skill rating. In this case, you'd add 2 dice apiece to Paladin's tests; defaulting those dice would get a total of 12, which is enough to find basic info on the restaurant that isn't purely public knowledge.
The trip to Paladin's apartment is uneventful, and when you arrive, the place is locked and empty. Paladin glances almost automatically at one wall where messages are usually written in AR, and sees a note from Cuervo that he's out walking the dog. He also knows that usually means that a big dog and a bigger ork are running in one of the sprawl's indoor "parks," possibly caught up in an AR game of some kind, and won't be back for some time. With that in mind, the two of you set up, connect through the neighbors' access, and get to work.
The Classic is located in Dorchester, in a fairly decent section of the city, although not far from a more run-down area. It's been operating as a restaurant-theater for decades; the public node proclaims it's been family-run since 2014, and that the current owners are merely the latest chapter in "a proud history with roots in a great city." Although the exterior looks to be standard older-looking materials worn by the years, the inside has been renovated and kept up quite nicely, with trid-viewing facilities that are only a few years behind the cutting edge, and more than enough for a theater-going experience--for those who still do that sort of thing. You quickly get the sense that the Classic is still open mostly by the virtue of novelty, since the very concept of a restaurant-theater is so different from the typical in today's world. It's very much the kind of place that attracts (and caters to) middle-class wageslaves who want to live it up for an evening.
A brief search into the owner himself reveals nothing of interest; he doesn't appear to have any connections or scandals, or anything of note about him at all. You do discover the Matrix address of the establishment's private node, however, if you care to do less legal digging.
If there was public information of this sort that you'd like, but I didn't already offer, just ask. Anything deeper than the surface, though, is going to call for some hacking.
Weekend at Runie's (with Sarge and Wraith):
[ooc]I'm not positive on how you're planning to scope the place out, but I'm getting that Rune is going to use Astral space to do it, and he wants to be somewhere relatively secure while doing so. I'm assuming you just find an inconspicuous spot nearby, but if you'd prefer something more specific just let me know.
After some awkward history is brought up, and then smoothed over with some only slightly less awkward displays of affection, the three of you make for the Classic, finding its location easily enough with a quick Matrix search. Of course you don't just walk right in; instead, you find a nice empty lot nearby, with a little alley off the side where Rune can take a seat before going astral. Wraith and Sarge take up a position on either side of the elf, and his body relaxes and slumps back as his consciousness is projected into another space.
Rune, this isn't your first time perceiving and moving purely in the astral plane, and it doesn't take a great deal of effort to quickly get your bearings and move to the Classic. You can't move as fast as is possible in the astral if you want to take a look around, but it's still quicker than walking, and it has the added benefit of allowing you to move unsensed and mostly unhindered. The building itself has no magical defenses or barriers, so you're able to move inside with ease. The decor is much more pleasant than the building's worn exterior, and it almost immediately presents the feeling of a place designed and marketed toward middle-class customers who want to feel richer for an outing. As it's still fairly early in the day for a trid theater, there aren't many people inside--just a few employees making sure things are clean and orderly, a pair in the kitchen likely preparing the space for tonight's cooking. No one seems to notice your astral projection.
Rune, let me know what you're looking for in terms of anything specific, like layout, employee auras, anything like that; otherwise, I can just give you some basics. If you feel you should make a roll for anything, go ahead. Wraith and Sarge, I'd like a Perception test from each of you.
Sorry all, I've been kind of off the boards for more than a week here, for a lot of reasons that I don't really want to go into. Also sorry that my first time back on the site I was only able to post in a recruitment--I'd intended to get around to everywhere that day, but it didn't happen.
I'm hopeful to get us moving here again, although I can't promise it'll happen today or tomorrow--later today I have a real-time game over Discord with some folks, and tomorrow I have training for a job and I don't know how long that'll be (as they haven't told me). So my apologies for everything, and know that I am still around and hopeful to get this going again.
As a note, nice touch on the review ratings, Geezer. I'm fine with little things like that most of the time; if I ever feel it's important to correct or clarify something I will, but I don't think it'd ever be a problem.
Once it's clear the team is on board for the job, Johnson stands awkwardly and nods. "Great. I'll, uh, I'll be in touch, yeah? Through him." He gestures toward Tilt, stands for a moment more, and then turns and hurries off, clearly happy that he can leave the tea house now.
As the team begins planning things out, Tilt looks at Sarge and shakes his head. "I'd say that's all bad business, chummer. Not that I have any grand ideas about honor among thieves. Anybody worth the pay has very few qualms about stabbing someone in the back if they deserve it. But when you go around with a knife out all the time, well, people stop letting you near their backs. You follow?" He takes a sip of tea and crosses his legs. "So yeah, digging around in the Johnson's business is usually a no-go, at least while you're on the job. If something smells like it belongs in the bay, I'd say go for it, but that's usually corp territory, not gangers. A little research isn't a bad idea, though, as long as it's all legal. Matrix searches, yes, B&E, not so much. And betraying a Johnson is a one-way ticket to unemployment, or worse. Newton was almost right when it came to the shadows, omae. Everything comes back to bite your ass harder if you're not careful."
He muses for a moment and shrugs. "That said, if the Johnson betrays you, you're well within your rights to shoot back. It's a two-way street. That's why most folks don't go around trying to hustle the dangerous criminals they've hired."
Geezer: You do indeed know basically nothing about this gang, but calling Pam up isn't a bad plan. I'll make the roll for what she knows/can find out, and she'll get back to you this evening, game time.
Paladin: Just trolling the Shadowlands and looking up public info on the building would be Data Search tests--call it a separate extended test for each, with the Shadowlands search going more into potential underworld info, and the public records showing stuff more like ownership. Getting detailed information on tickets, ledgers, and all that would definitely call for Hacking, yes.
If anyone else has anything they want to do, let me know. It's currently Friday afternoon, and the run is set for Sunday, so you have some prep time.
Tilt all but spit-takes when Nix uses the m-word, and you get the sense he's glaring at her behind his visor for a moment. He quickly masks it well, though, and claps his hands with a smile. "Well, it sounds like we have a deal, then. Are we agreed, Mister Johnson? Team?"
The ganger nods and clenches his hands together. "Yeah, yeah, it sounds good to me. And I don't wanna say no killing at all, just, you don't have to. Like, don't go in there looking to geek the crowd or nothing, yeah? If you gotta wing somebody to keep 'em from getting stupid, that's okay by me." He thinks for a moment and starts to stand, then sits back down. "Uh, so. I'll get you the address for meeting up, and we meet there Sunday at noon, okay? That's when they open for the matinee, so you'll go in once you get the jackets and everything. Sound good?"
I dunno. At the very least, sending a team in to detonate an experimental bomb in the middle of a hurricane to try and dissipate it sounds like the premise for a fantastic film. Or a good shadowrun, for that matter...
Also, out of curiosity, cntl? I'm used to the keyboard abbreviation being CTRL.
Johnson is taken aback by Wraith's response, and he turns with a somewhat shocked expression to Rune and Geezer. "Ah. Well. I did already check the place, know the take'll be good, and I got more info to help if you take the job. So it isn't like you're just going in blind like on your own. But yeah, you got a point." He squirms in his seat for a few seconds, then nods. "Alright. How about this. One k each when the job is done, plus gratitude from me and mine. You're in the neighborhood you give us a ring, right? I'll even throw in the jackets for you to keep."
As a note that comes to mind, I want to say: Shadowrun, in some ways unlike many other RPGs, can lend a lot of agency to the players and their characters when choosing what "adventures" to partake in. In your typical fantasy game there's some world-threatening crisis that needs stopped and your (usually inherently heroic) PCs willingly take up arms against it. Even in other sci-fi games it's typically something along those lines.
Shadowrun, though, features criminals (even if they have hearts of gold, as I've no doubt our team does!) taking on high-risk jobs for payment. It's a dangerous line of work characterized by people who play it safe and smart lasting a lot longer than numbskulls who take every offer and waltz off to their deaths. As such, it's fully within the realm of possibility for a team of runners to turn down a job opportunity. Hell, it's even expected to a certain extent.
Usually this would be fielded by a decent fixer who acts as a sort of buffer against bad work--for example, Tilt is aware of certain things the team doesn't like. If a Johnson from Knight Errant were looking for a runner team to gun down Catholic orphanage that's owned by Pensodyne Genetics, he'd scoff at the ridiculous premise and pass on the offer. But a job might slip through the cracks before the details come out, or it might seem totally good until the Johnson says something that makes the team start second-guessing. And of course, the team might just decide that the last run paid enough and they'd like a vacation.
My point in all this is, I don't want you guys to ever feel like you have to take a job that I cook up for you. In fact, I don't want you to feel like there's a right or wrong response to any given job, whether it's accepting or walking away. That's not to say there won't be consequences to the choices you make, but that's all part of the game.
tl;dr--Just because you see me spend time writing up a run description/offer for the team, that doesn't mean you have to take it. I'll come up with others, and I enjoy the writing, so no worries.
Small note: It's the Mister Johnson, who looks like an obvious gang type, that seems nervous and uncomfortable, not Tilt. On the contrary, your friendly neighborhood fixer seems to be enjoying himself immensely, leaning back with a smile on his face, and each sip of tea producing a contented sigh.
The flurry of questions seems to catch the Johnson off guard for a moment, but he picks out a couple and rubs his neck with a sheepish look. "Yeah, 'where's the catch,' huh? I shoulda figured." He turns to Tilt. "Hey, maybe I take this somewhere else, find a group who isn't so curious..."
Tilt sets his tea down with a laugh. "Omae, any group worth the pay is gonna ask at least what my team wants to know. Sounds we could all guess half the cards anyway, so you might as well show your hand."
The ganger scowls, but nods. "Yeah. Okay." He actually picks up his cup as though to take a sip, then second-guesses it and sets it back down. "As far as catch, like trouble, there shouldn't be any. Just in and out, scare up the wagers inside, grab the creds, get the hell out. I guess that's the real catch, if anything--you gotta make a bit of a scene." He glances at Wraith and thinks for a moment. "On the scale, maybe a seven, eight? You don't gotta kill nobody, unless they wanna be a hero or something. Just scare 'em.
"As for the place and pay, they go hand in hand. It isn't exactly just a restaurant, see. It's like a combination restaurant and trid theater, like one of them old-time places? Pretty wicked idea honestly, you ask me. It's popular with the wageslave types, you know, grab a bite to eat, catch the new movie, and they play everything. Called the Classic." He licks his lips. "So yeah, the pay is what you take from the place, but I'm not talking double digits, here. You know what they're showing this weekend?" He leans forward. "Creatures of Bavaria is opening. That new flick about... I dunno what it's about, honestly. But every wageslave and his wife is gonna go see it tonight, and anybody that can't is gonna go tomorrow. They do two showings a night, seats about eighty wagers, plus they get meals and all. Add that all up, whaddaya get?" He pats the table, clearly more comfortable now that he's well into talking shop. "We're talking thousands here. If that don't get your pants on, it'll blow 'em right off, right?"
With his speech over, Johnson seems to become aware of his surroundings again, and fidgets as he sits back. "Anyway, only other 'catch,' if you wanna call it that, is a small one. You gotta wear jackets, like this." He turns in the seat slightly and gestures at his own attire. The back shows a complicated if shoddy symbol that appears to have once been a Red Sox B. "Wear whatever else you want, but we give you the jackets and you put 'em on. Sound pissa?"
"Love the enthusiasm, crew. As always." Tilt takes a sip of tea to stifle what looks like a smile, and nods as Victoria sets her device on the table. "Nice touch. As far as brandy and scotch, sorry gang, but that's the downstairs gig. The Upper Tea adds a touch of class to any meeting, and it's a lot easier to hear yourself think, too." A waitress comes over shortly, and Tilt orders a second pot along with a cup of Earl Grey for Nick.
Those Eyeing Mister Johnson:
The phrase fish out of water comes to mind instantly on looking at the man sitting across from Tilt. His entire posture suggests that he'd rather be anywhere but here, and the unconscious twitching and flinching as Tilt goes through pleasantries--and orders more tea--show that he'd rather this be a quick meeting than anything prolonged. That said, he doesn't seem uncomfortable or nervous for any reason beyond the atmosphere, and you don't notice any weapons on him, or armor beyond what are probably protective clothes and the jacket.
It's only after the tea's delivered and everyone has a cup that Tilt gestures to Mister Johnson. "So, chummer. What can my associates and I do for you today?"
The Johnson shifts and sets his cup down, licks his lips and looks around. "Well, I want you guys to knock over a restaurant. You know, rob the place? Do it real tough like, go in real gang style, right? Bust down the door, make some threats, get the money and go. No fuss." He drums his fingers on the table. "You in?"
And I'm here to say that that may have been a false flag. It was probably just a crash, but I've had bad luck with computers in the past so I was expecting a worst case scenario. I should be okay, but if I go dark the old message stands.
Sorry for the delay--my trip ended with a couple days spent mostly on the road, and yesterday was a birthday dinner for my grandmother. Nick, I'd say let's leave the Warhawk for now, but you can certainly pick it up after this job!
Tilt waits to respond with the meeting's details until everyone's checked in, but it doesn't take long after Nick's name resolution for him to reply.
Pinb@11Wiz@rd: Double Teahouse, over in Natick, upstairs. 1400. If you like to carry for meets, carry concealed. Drinks on me.
When the team arrives shortly before 2 PM, they find the Double Teahouse to be a modern construction, appearing to be slightly taller than a single story, but not tall enough for two. Entering inside reveals why: the entry level has a half-flight of stairs leading both up and down, the doors themselves opening on a midpoint landing. There's an obvious split in the decoration and tone of the upstairs and downstairs: the lower level has some glowing neon in bright, pulsing colors leaking out, along with thrumming music heavy on the bass and not much else. A couple of drunk humans are groping each other by the door.
The upstairs, however, has a much calmer atmosphere, and the group ascends the stairs to find themselves in a teahouse with walls and ceiling almost entirely made of glass, or at least a transparent material that looks close enough. The lighting is subtle and warm, and it accentuates the little sun that pokes through the sprawl's smoggy clouds. There are tables throughout with customers sipping drinks or eating what might be close to real food, and the background music is tinkling and soft, if a tad annoying when you focus on it.
Given the size of the place, it isn't long before the team spots Tilt, who waves them over to the long table where he's waiting with another man--presumably the Mr. Johnson. That man looks like he'd be more comfortable downstairs--his hair is done up in greasy dreads, his fake leather jacket has studs on the shoulders, and tattoos crawl up his chest and neck from the stained, ripped shirt he's wearing. He's holding a teacup in an almost comical mismatch of cultures, and looks more than a little uncomfortable. Tilt, on the other hand, looks right at home, sipping his tea as the team approaches.
"Ah, good. Right on time. Everyone, this is your Mister Johnson. Mister Johnson, your team." Tilt's voice is relaxed, but only loud enough for the table to hear--anyone beyond would only catch that someone's talking, not what they're saying. "Please, have some tea. Half the bag is real leaves, it's quite a treat." Mr. Johnson scowls at Tilt's easy attitude, but the fixer just chuckles and takes another sip. "Normally I don't show up to every meet, but I never pass up an opportunity for a fresh cuppa. You like Russian Caravan?"
Alright, we'll move on now. Nix, Rune, and Geezer, you each get 1 Karma for the interludes.
--March 18th, 2072--
The morning after meeting their fixer, the team all receive a message on their comms from him. Upon checking the message, they each discover a pre-recorded video message of Tilt. He appears to be sitting in a chair in a small but well-lit room, visor and all, and he smiles into the tridcam as he speaks.
Tilt's Message:
"Hoi, chummers. If you're seeing this, then you're one of my new clients, and we've met in person beforehand. I send this to you folks because I like to get a few things out of the way when I start a new working relationship, and I don't want it to take a ton of time out of your days meeting you in person. That, and after my third introduction, I got tired of repeating myself." The corner of his mouth pulls up in a half-smile, and he shrugs. "So I figured, it's 2069. Why not make a trideo for future reference?"
The man leans back in his chair, and then there's a cut in the footage--probably edited to when he starts talking again, now sitting straight. "So we probably already went over some of your dos and don'ts for working, but first thing first for me is going over my own. These are general deals and they're mostly for your own sake, but I like to get them out of the way. First"--he holds up one finger--"I'm not a superstitious guy, but nobody uses the m-word to talk about a job. I've never seen it make things go sideways personally, but I'm not about to take the risk. Some jobs are easier than others, but don't go mouthing off about it. At best, you're just wasting air, huh?"
There's another brief edit and Tilt's hand are clasped in his lap. "Second, the big one: corps. I'm talking the trips, not Mister McNamara's pharma chain. It's a tricky subject, but I'll give you my take. Everyone knows the three A's are where the big bucks are at, so to speak, but they also bring big trouble. In my mind, that trade usually isn't worth it." He shrugs again, with another sheepish half-smile. "I'll be up front with you chums. I said earlier I've worked with three real teams. Over the years with those teams, I've had nearly twenty runners in and out. Out of those, I've only lost three. They were all together, and it was their own fault, but I take responsibility." This time, there's a pause in his speech, as Tilt leans back and takes a slow, heavy breath. "And that happened after a run for a Triple A. We did what they wanted, but I guess those three left some hints behind. So our Johnson's bosses decided to clean house."
Tilt sighs and leans forward again. "That brings me to my third point. I take care of my own as best I can. That means I'm not afraid to have one team help another out if I need to. And I don't shy away from working as my own Johnson." He pauses for a moment, and you can almost see him considering the phrasing, but he shakes his head slightly and reaches forward. The tridcam view turns upward to view a section of wall on a side of the room. Mounted on the wall near the ceiling is a magnificent katana with a matching red scabbard. "The Reds don't know I'm the one who has this, so I'm trusting you won't go sharing. I hope that shows this is a two-way street."
The tridcam shifts back to Tilt in his chair. "And now I'm at my last point. At the start of this I called you my clients, and I mean that. Some fixers think the runners work for them. Some runners think they work for their fixers." He chuckles and shakes his head. "But in my mind, you work for the Johnson, and I work for you. The bottom line is that I'm looking to make this the most productive experience that it can be for all of us, and that means getting you the best jobs, with the most intel, and the best chance of success with no casualties. I've got experience, I've got a good head. And without going into it, I've got a personal stake in doing the best I can by my runners." He smiles and spreads his hands. "And that's it. I hope it all sounds good to you, omae. And I look forward to a long and profitable time together." He raises one hand as if lifting a glass, and nods just before the trid ends.
Later, a little before noon, they each get another message from the man, this time a text in a group conversation.
Pinb@11Wiz@rd: Got a job for you, chummers. Good starter run, see how you work together. You in?
You can just include a brief note on what you're up to when you receive Tilt's messages and your reply to his text; in any case, I'm going to move us forward in a day or two, whenever I get the chance. This post ended up being a little long, so I don't want to have too much at once.
Following this round of belated updates--this week had some craziness, including my phone breaking--I'm letting you all know that I'm going on another trip, starting later today. This is very short-notice, I know, but I didn't know I was going until last night myself. My younger brother is still looking at colleges, but this trip also brings us near my older half-brother who I only get to see once in a great while. (Incidentally, he's the person who got me into RPGs in the first place.) His schedule happens to be open for one of the days of the trip, so I'm going along to get to see him.
Like I said, we're leaving later today, and I'll be back on this coming Tuesday. We're staying in hotels the whole time, so I SHOULD have wi-fi and time to post, but in case I don't, that's the reason why.
"That sounds great," Hank replies. He eagerly shakes your hand, his grip firm but not crushing, and his grin widens. "Moving in now is perfectly fine! I know how it is, jumping around. Did my share of travel when I was younger. If you need any help with anything, just let me know."
Sounds good on that front. For now that sort of thing can be handwaved off-screen in downtime, but I'll keep it in mind.
Nix's Check-Up:
"I believe I know exactly what you mean." Charles nods and wheels toward an examination table. "Have a seat and let me take a look."
Shortly, the dwarf's wheelchair ratchets up to a higher position, and he's examining your eyes with a biometric-optical scanner. "Interesting," he comments, his own eyes narrowed almost to the point of being closed. "You said prepped? I haven't seen gene work like this in some time. Your father behind this?" He lowers the scanner for only a moment, then shakes his head. "No, actually. Don't tell me. Better that way." He turns and rolls over to a cabinet, then rummages through the contents for a few seconds before turning back with a syringe in one hand and an empty vial in the other. "I'll need a sample to make sure, just a tear will do, but I believe all you need is an enzyme to trigger the gene you need. That's the standard procedure they had when I was working with this sort of thing. But it isn't cheap, you understand, and I need the payment up front."
He wheels up to you and hands you the vial, then smiles. "I'd very much like to examine your genetics further, but I doubt you'll agree to that. So let's keep this simple business for now."
This is basically the end of the interlude--he'll activate your night vision deal for the cost, and then after a brief recovery period you'll be on your way. Might want to wear sunglasses for a bit to avoid potential side effects, though ;)
Geezer, that was great! Anyone who wants to write something similar can go ahead today; I'm planning to move us forward tomorrow.
Hmm. I'm not opposed to contacts giving jobs with extra benefits and rewards, but I wouldn't want something like that revolved in interludes without the rest of the team. After all, the runners who work together... get paid together? It's not as snappy as the established mottos...
In any case, that's certainly something for the future, but for now, I'd say work with what you have. I'll definitely add it to my list of jobs, though!
"Well, glad to meet you, Mister Rune. I'm Henry Dunlap, call me Hank. I'm the landlord, though that mostly means fixing up the place with the money from the rent." He grins and offers his hand as you decide to take the house. "That's great, just great. Rent's five-thousand a month. I know that's a bit pricy, but like I said, there's plenty of benefits. Rent's due the 15th each month, which was a couple days back..." He looks sheepish for a moment, and sighs. "I guess I'd need this month's down, as a deposit. Wouldn't wanna charge you more than that, though. You seem like a good fella, head square on your shoulders."
I like the Advanced Lifestyle rules in Runner's Companion, so I used those to set up this apartment. It has Low Comforts, Entertainment, Necessities, and Neighborhood, but Middle Security and some qualities: the Neighbors are Concerned, Friendly, but also Nosy, it has access to Homegrown Farming and a Workshop, and it's in a Quiet Neighborhood. The LP/cost ends up being the same as a base Middle Class lifestyle. The book suggests that players should be allowed to customize their own lifestyles, though, so if you'd like to change anything there it's fine by me, just let me know.
Nix's Doc:
The dwarf eyes you warily as you speak and reach for your pocket, but his eyebrows almost shoot up to his receding hairline when he sees the card. "Hmm. Let me see that." He holds out one hand, leaning forward, and reads the card without quite taking it from your hand. Then he looks back to you. "I almost believed it right away, but that's his handwriting. David, always so old-fashioned. I like to think I had something to do with that, but he always had a taste for it."
The dwarf wheels around and rolls further into the room, waving for you to follow him. "David never told me about a daughter, but that seems like him, too. Besides, it's not like you killed or robbed the man, so I'll take your word for it. For now." He stops and turns around again. "I'm sorry to hear he's gone missing, but David--your father--he's..." The dwarf trails off for a few seconds, and shrugs. "Well, I'm sure you know. He can take care of himself." He gives a bark of laughter and grins. "I've patched him up at least twice from the point where I'd have sworn he was already dead. But in he walked, and off he went. So I'd wager good money he's still kicking around out there somewhere."
There's a brief silence, and then the dwarf claps his hands and pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Ahh, I should introduce myself. Call me Charles. I met your father through business. I am a licensed medical professional, although for my own reasons, I prefer to avoid the bustle of modern health care system. So, Victoria. What can I do for you today?"
There's a lengthy pause after you speak into the intercom, long enough that you wonder if anyone heard you--or if the equipment works. But just as you reach forward to try again, the speaker crackles to life with a quick, reedy voice. "David? Never heard of him. How do you know him?" There's another brief pause, and then, "Hang on. I'm buzzing you in. But don't try anything funny, or you get a face full of DMSO, and you don't want to know what I laced it with."
A moment later there's a buzz and the mechanical thump of at least two deadbolts shifting out of lock. You push open the door and descend a flight of dimly lit stairs to find another utility door, this one also locked. You knock, and a few more deadbolt sounds later, it opens up to reveal a surprisingly clinical space. It's not exactly sterile white and shining chrome, but it's obviously dedicated to medical procedures and not just a chop shop in a basement. You can see several cabinets and desks, as well as stands and beds and more. Most of the equipment looks like it was state of the art ten years ago, but unless you want one big digital footprint, that's about the best you're going to get... and if the doc knows what they're doing, it's more than enough for modern procedures.
The doc in question is a dwarf in a wheelchair. His clothes make him look more like a wageslave accountant than a street doc, except for the curious contraptions on his legs. The bushy grayed mustache, balding head, and hornrim glasses add to the look, and he peers up at you with wary hazel eyes. True to his word, he has what looks like a large syringe in his hands, filled with some liquid that you probably don't want anywhere near your skin.
"You'd better start talking, miss. I don't know this David, but if I did, I highly doubt he'd send someone to me without notifying me first. Especially if I hadn't heard from him in some time." He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't move the syringe... yet.
Hugo Talks House:
You do some looking on the Matrix for a rental that suits your need, and after a bit of searching, a promising ad comes up. One quick messaging chat later, and you hop on the T and take a brief walk to an apartment building in the West End. The man who waves to you as you approach out front is and older human, maybe in his seventies, with a paunch, a broken nose, and a friendly smile. "Hey there," he calls, his voice thickly Bostonian. "You here about the rental?" Upon confirmation, he nods and waves you inside. "Let me show you the place."
The building is an older one, not very up to date with the latest tech, but it certainly seems pleasant enough. The man takes you up to the third floor and down a hall to the apartment. "Now, if you're worried about security, I know it don't look like much, but it's solid locks all around. Plus you got the rest of us." He looks back and smiles as he unlocks the door. "Maybe half the building's retired boys in blue, most of us on pension from when they privatized the cops. Not a lot of trouble around here, and everyone's friendly."
He winks and chuckles as he opens the door, revealing a small but comfortable apartment. "Window would've had a look at the bay once, so I'm told, but they put up another row of buildings, so it ain't much. But the space should do well enough for you. And you're free to walk around the building when you like. Like I said, everyone's friendly, so give a knock and you'll probably get invited in for a drink and a chat."
He gestures around the room. "Furniture comes with the place. Couch there isn't a foldout, but it'll do in a pinch for sleeping. Trid screen comes with the place, and we've got a deal for basic virtual windows in the whole place. Oh, I should probably warn you, the CHN's on the fritz. We're trying to fix it, but for now, expect your meals at odd hours if you don't make 'em yourself." He sighs and smiles. "Course, that isn't too bad. June's got a garden on the roof, and she usually shares her crop with all the tenants. Nothing special, but it livens up the soy."
He sits on one of the stools and rubs his hands in thought. "Oh, I know this is a little small, but it's got perks. Rent here gets you parking at the closest garage, if you need a spot for a ride. And we've got a deal with the institute across the way, magic and tech? Let us use their libraries and rent workspaces, if you want. Part of some community outreach." He looks up with a curious smile. "Dunno if that's of interest to you. If you don't mind my asking, what is it brings you to the area, Mister...?"
Hmm. If they're real, they wouldn't have Ratings, but rather they have other complications--namely that they're easy to trace and have a lot of public records associated with them. So it makes sense to use the Hugo identity for something like this.
Alright, cool. Could you list those on your profile for ease of access, along with their Ratings? And I'll assume that he's looking to rent using the Hugo Rune SIN, but let me know if it's otherwise. (Actually, I believe I can prompt that in the Gameplay post, so I'll do that.)
Hmm, as I'm looking up things to set up your scene Hugo--assuming you don't mind, I'll offer you a Lifestyle based on that plan--a thought occurs to me. Does Hugo have a SIN, whether his own or a fake one? I don't see anything in your profile, but I know that's the sort of thing that might not have been included. (Also, feel free to have a SIN even if you're at the limit for negative qualities--you just don't get the extra points for it.)
Hmm. The Ares could probably be done, since those are relatively simpler changes. The SMG would probably have to wait, though, unless you want to take a couple days off here--keep in mind, you've suggested talking with your fixer tomorrow, and it's already afternoon of "today" in-game.
(Side note: I may add a "clock" to the campaign's header, to keep up with what day and time it is.)
No problem, Nick--there hasn't been a ton of movement here, so unless other people jump in I'll probably just move us forward once I'm done with Nix's interlude.
After leaving the group, you make your way to a clinic farther south in the sprawl, outside of Boston proper. Say what you will about public transportation, but the MBTA remains a relatively cheap and anonymous way to get around the area, and it's a little over an hours' ride to the site.
You might feel a bit nervous as you approach the building, and not just because it's a plain structure in a sketchy neighborhood. You don't actually know the doctor who works here, or if it's an actual doc or a street chopper, or even if it's a man or a woman. All you know is an address on one of your father's contact cards--thank God he kept them, old-fashioned as they were--with the note Street Doc, Gene Work--Vic?. On the back, as with most of his cards, is a note for you, in case you needed to contact them. Mostly they're ways to introduce yourself; in this case, Just use my name.
Although it may not be that simple. You only found the contact cards a few days ago, tucked in one of his damaged suits, and you don't actually know any of them beyond the sparse notes. Considering how much the man tried to hide you from it all, it's doubtful how many, if any, of his contacts know you exist, and it's hard to say if they'd believe the facts.
But you knew you needed an appointment, so here you are. The door to the building is locked, but there's a small camera and intercom system by the handle. Looks like it's time for first impressions.
Hugo, could you post or PM me what you're looking for in terms of lifestyle, if anything specific beyond Middle Class? And if anyone else wants to RP a scene of purchasing or anything else, let me know. Since I enjoy this sort of thing and want it to matter, anyone who goes through an Interlude scene of this kind will get a Karma point at the end of it.
Sorry for the delays; I intended to post over the weekend, but we lost power for the chunk of time when I could.
Tilt nods as members of the team tell him what's off-limits. "Right, got it. No kids, no wives, steer clear of Ares, Evo, and the Church." One eyebrow arcs up over the visor at that last one, but he doesn't make any comments. "Sounds fair enough, and I'll make sure not to go sticking my head up my ass with jobs like that. Plenty of money outside of those, and that's how many triple-A corps still on the table?" He laughs and shakes his head. "Just drekking you, chummers. Corps are bad news all over, I'm not gonna send you at one of them unless I got one hell of a reason."
Muldoon chuckles and steps to the bar to get a drink, and Tilt turns his head before nodding slightly. "Alright, well, I hate to slot and run," the fixer says, "but I have to get going. Niece's got a recital, you know how it is." Either the man has a natural dry delivery, or he's telling the truth. "Get me your numbers, and I'll catch you tomorrow, yeah?" There's a moment when he stands still--a slight twitch of the mouth suggests he winked--and once he has everyone's contact info, he's off.
Let me know if you're good to just move on, or there's anything you want to purchase that deserves some RPing.
As a note, Donald Muldoon isn't the head of the family--he's certainly an important figure, but not the patriarch of the clan. That honor goes to a man pretty much anyone even remotely knowledgeable of Boston's underworld knows about: Fergus "Champ" Muldoon, a bear of an Irishman who had an undefeated record as a professional boxer.
Donald Muldoon grins as the runners begin taking up the offer, and he nods at Geezer. "It's not like I'm ordering any of you to do this, but I thought it'd be a good repayment for all you've done for Pam, and what these folks have done for me. And to finally pay back the favor Father Donavan's always holding over my head!" He laughs and winks at Rune.
Tilt smiles as well, and he looks over the team. "Well, as far as I'm thinking, pay should be good. You look like you've got a solid setup here. You got your wizkid, a couple bruisers, technical expertise... a mixed bag, but what do they say about variety and spices?" He chuckles and turns his head for a moment; although he doesn't say anything aloud, his throat moves slightly, and you'd guess he's speaking with a subvocal mic. After a couple seconds, he turns back. "Now, I could try and hand you a job right now, but judging from the bruise on your face"--he nods at Paladin--"and what I'm hearing about work you did already, I'm guessing you might like a day off. Do some shopping, get some rest? So let's just exchange numbers and I'll contact you tomorrow."
At the mention of shopping, Muldoon claps his hands and gestures for Rune and Geezer to come over. "I almost forgot. Rune, this is part of my favor with Donavan--I said I'd set you up for a while, and that includes some cash now. And Geezer, consider it a gift. Frankly, I think you and Pam have done more for the family than you realize." He hands each of the pair an unmarked certified credsticks.
Rune and Geezer, each credstick has 10,000 nuyen on it--not as much as the rest of the team has made overall, but I didn't want to leave you guys totally in the lurch in terms of payment. As mentioned in Discussion, mundane gear can be purchased without trouble or need for explanation, but anything with a high Availability or custom-made, I'd like to RP at least a little of the transaction as something of an interlude.
OOC Comments and Replies, Here for Ease of Access:
Re: Mind Probe--Looking at the spell, I don't have a big problem with it so long as we stick to the specific details provided. That is, it's important to note that A) it only works on one target at a time, B) anyone you probe is aware of the probing (even if they don't know the source), and C) you only gain one bit of information per Complex Action. I'd be inclined to say that each ne bit of information you seek in the same casting requires a new roll, as well, although that may be a little harsh.
In any case, though, I should let you know that Hugo would be aware: there's a no-magic policy in the Green Rhythm. Hugo would have been told this by Rory at the door (Rory is a young man perceiving in astral sight while lounging on the steps outside--see here for his introduction, and know that he's dressed pretty much the same, albeit with a darker green shirt), and while Rory doesn't mention how it's enforced, it's an easy guess that it's probably a pretty serious policy. (Assensing is allowed, since it's a basic use of astral perception, but spells of any kind aren't.)
Re: Healing-- Yep, that's fine, Nathaniel. And unless you go looking for trouble today, I doubt you'll be getting in any fights before you have the chance to finish healing up.
As the various runners, new and old, begin to chat with one another, it seems like things are starting to settle in. The bartender gets people drinks, although not the fancy imported whiskey from the last meeting. Until Wraith's sudden outburst and flight, there's no trouble at all. When the woman does flee, the bartender looks after her, but he frowns and shrugs, as if to say, What happens, happens.
Outside, Rory starts and sputters as Anya whizzes past, but he stays seated near the entrance while Sarge fetches Wraith back. He cocks his head as the pair approaches, apparently concerned, although it's hard to tell from his unfocused eyes. "I was gonna just ask about the table, but seems something's given you a fright, girl. Don't tell me it was just the Celtics losing again?" If he catches drift of what caused Wraith's fear, Rory chuckles and shakes his head. "Geezer Talbot? Ach, he's a good fella, no worries there. I heard he used to play in the A&A overseas, 'fore he came across the pond. Hell of a leg, so I'm told, but he ain't exactly the voodoo hoodoo type."
Not long after everyone's regathered inside the Green Rhythm, the sound of the back room opening and closing drifts out. In a moment, Donald Muldoon rounds the corner, and he smiles and spreads his hands in greeting. Accompanying him is a human man in a fashionable but plain black outfit, heavy on the synthetic leather look. He's got some obvious 'ware, from the visible cyberhand poking from one sleeve to the not-quite-natural attachment on one side of his skull, complete with a visor across his eyes and a commlink speaker and mic clipped over one ear.
"Ah, good to see you all again," Muldoon says. He steps forward to shake hands with each of the runners in turn, nodding and smiling all the while. "Thanks for stopping by, and thanks again for the help with... well, let's leave that in the past." He winks and moves to greet Rune and Geezer. "I'm glad you boys stopped by, too. Rune, is it? You come recommended from some friends, and Geezer, well, I've heard good things about you. Bad, too, but enough good to outweigh it." He chuckles and claps his hands.
"So! The reason I've brought you all down here is that you're obviously folks of a certain leaning, not to mention certain skills. Most of you have already helped my family once or twice in some way, and you've all proven yourselves capable and reliable employees. So I thought that in order to repay you for your work so far... and, honestly, to build potential future relationships..." He grins and gestures to the other man. "May I introduce to you a business partner of mine. Tilt."
The human--Tilt--steps forward and nods. His mouth turns up into a smile, although you can't tell whether it reaches his hidden eyes. "Good to meet you folks. Mister Muldoon has highly recommended you." He reaches behind him to grab a bar stool, and then perches on it as he draws out and lights up a cigarette. "In case it isn't obvious, we're here because I'd like you to work for me, working for you." He takes a long draw and blows the smoke out his nostrils, smiling as he does so. "That is to say, I'm offering to be your friendly neighborhood fixer. I understand Mister Muldoon has already paid you handsomely for some services rendered, but I can offer you a whole lot more where that came from, if you're interested. I promise good work and good payments."
Just letting you all know that I'm leaving for a camping trip for a couple of days with my family--I know, it's another short-notice absence, but it is what it is. My apologies, but if it's any consolation I may be able to post on this one. I'm not sure exactly what the situation at the campground will be, some have wi-fi these days and some don't, but if I get the opportunity I may even use my phone to get a hotspot and check in if I can. In any case, I'll be back on Wednesday, and I'll update as soon as I can. Thanks!
(Also, sorry for not having updated this one already--you guys are doing great with RP, and each time I check in with hopes of posting there's even more to go over and potentially respond to. That's a good thing! This one in particular I'll try to post in and respond to questions/updates if I get the chance over this trip.)
Bearing in mind it's already pretty late in the day--it was late in the evening by the time you even left to find Donny--it's likely you'd just be doing drinks, and we'll leave shopping for after the meeting.
A job well done receives good pay, and the bonds Rebecca Muldooon passes out certainly qualify. She also smiles at the suggestions of drinks. "Tell you what. For working so fast, and allowing me to personally escort Donny back to our place..." She turns to the bartender, who nods. "We'll keep the Green Rhythm open late, just for you. Drinks on me, tonight. Good job." With that and a final grin, she sits in the back seat of the car, and the bartender closes her door before sitting in the passenger seat.
Colin regards the team for a moment longer, then nods slightly. "Thanks for the help." He lingers only one moment longer before getting into the driver's seat and pulling away.
- - - - -
Perhaps what passes that night at the Green Rhythm is better left to the imagination, rather than providing the details. Some may have passed the hours in raucous jubilation, drinking into the wee hours of the morning; some may have chosen the path of moderation, seeking to avoid the troubles of a morning after such a party. Regardless of their activities, the team go their ways at the end of the night, with the bartender seeing them off--calling transportation if needed--and reminding them all of tomorrow's new meeting.
- - - - -
The next day, come 3 PM, the runners return to the Green Rhythm once more, by now familiar with the bar and its surroundings. Rory is lounging on the steps outside once more, and he smiles and winks at each of the team as they arrive. The bar is mostly empty; the bartender is behind the counter, polishing a glass. He also nods toward the other inhabitants of the room: a couple of men, an elf and an ork. "Say hello to the new blood," he comments, but it isn't clear who he's talking to. "You'll be seeing more of each other, we hope. Boss'll see you all soon."
Re: Gas-Vents in Revolvers--I'm gonna rule no on that one. It doesn't make a lot of sense from a realistic standpoint, even if we were to use some handwaving for future technology; Shadowrun's a little more hard-science-fiction than some settings, magic notwithstanding. That, and the point of high-powered chambering is trading accuracy for damage, so it should take some real work to cancel it out. And don't forget or discount that it makes ammunition more expensive, along with being generally rarer and illegal.
Re: Nick Overcoming Pain--That actually sounds like some neat development, so I'd be okay with that. It may have more impact if it comes after the next mission, but I'm not against it happening a little sooner.
Re: RPing Purchases--If you're just buying something basic and simple, we don't need to do anything, but customized gear, as well as anything particularly expensive or hard to find, should be played out. We can do that pretty soon and quickly enough in Gameplay, though; let's say after the full team comes together with our new folks, but before the next job. This would include Nick's super-pistol, but not things like the basic equipment Nix listed.
Update hopefully coming later tonight--I'm on another trip with the family, and we're about to go out for a bit, but I should have time when we get back (and wi-fi courtesy of the hotel).
Also since we've just ended our first real mission, I'd like to get you guys' thoughts on how it went. I like to try and do this sort of thing with my games, particular with something like Shadowrun where I don't have a ton of experience running it.
What did you like about this run? What didn't you like? Anything you'd want to see again, or leave behind? Any lingering questions or other comments you want to make? I'd like to get some feedback to help inform future endeavors--obviously not everything will make it into everything, but it'll give me an idea of whether to include elements or concepts again, and help make the campaign more enjoyable for everyone. Feel free to post thoughts here or PM them to me, although if you have a lot to say it might be good to use a spoiler if you post it in this thread.
(I know pacing was a big issue with this one, I think more due to my posting than the mission itself, so no need to comment on that unless it's something you particularly want to point out.)
After a couple seconds' wait, Rebecca Muldoon answers Wraith's call, and then responds. "Yes, keep him there, would you? We'll have some people there shortly." Obviously, Wraith can't see the woman's face, but she can hear the satisfaction and grim eagerness in her voice. If that tone says anything, Donny's time in the basement might be considered a vacation compared to what comes next.
The team waits in the abandoned building for a little less than an hour, Donny squirming nervously, before they hear a car pull up outside. Several doors open and shut, prompting the rat-faced man to flinch each time. Finally, the door to the building opens, and there stands Rebecca Muldoon, with a pair of other men flanking her. One they recognize as the bartender, and the other is a middle-aged human with blond hair, whom they don't recognize. Muldoon herself is positively beaming, but it isn't a pleasant smile on her face. And when she says, "Donny Basso," the glee in her voice suggests nothing good for the man.
"N-n-now Rebecca--" Donny's stammering start is met with a throat-clearing and a glare from the bartender. "Ms. Muldoon," Donny corrects, "now, let's not be too hasty. I mean, it wasn't my idea to--"
"Colin." Rebecca doesn't so much as gesture, but the name seems to get her point across. The blond man easily draws a pistol from under his jacket and, in one smooth motion, fires a shot into Donny's left kneecap. Donny screeches in pain and collapses to the floor, grabbing at the wound. Colin replaces his gun, and he and the bartender step forward to haul Donny to his feet and take him outside. As they do so, Rebecca turns to the team and smiles; this time it's pleasant and positive.
"Thank you very much for your good work. I think we'll handle it from here; Colin has a way with people. It seems like it only takes a few minutes of knowing him and people are practically jumping to tell him anything he wants to know." Her smile turns vicious again for a moment, and then she laughs and nods her head outside. "I have payment for you in the car. More bonds, although not as much as my father gave you--four thousand each. I think Donny would be privileged to know his life is worth so much."
The woman steps outside with the runners, where the bartender hands her a briefcase. Donny can't be seen or heard, but Colin's place leaning on the trunk suggests a possible location. After Rebecca hands the team their payment, she snaps her fingers. "Oh, and my father said you should come by the pub again, tomorrow. Say, three again? He'd like to thank you again, and he has a business connection you might be interested in, if you take my meaning."
This is also the end of the first full job you've done, so it's time to award Karma. Since I forgot to award you any for saving Rebecca in the first place, we'll roll that in, and you guys are getting a total of 8 Karma here--which also bumps your Street Cred to 1, as word starts to get around of the up-and-comers who saved a Muldoon and tracked down the moron who tried to have her whacked.
Both those stat blocks look good to me, and suggest some very neat and fun things going on with the characters. Daniel, if you could get me something of a backstory for Hugo, that'd be great--some of the things in the stats obviously hint at certain elements, but I'd love to know a little more about the character and what you're thinking with them!
As was mentioned, we're coming to the end of the group's first mission, so hopefully you'll be coming in before too much longer--hopefully in a few days, since I do need to wrap up a couple things here. Also, when I hand out Karma shortly, the two of you can also pick it up and spend it if you want, so everyone's on the same level.
Welcome Daniel! To everyone else, this is a new player who'll be joining us; he contacted me with interest for the game, and we've played together in the past. I let him know that the team is decently rounded at this point, but if anyone has any particular preferences or thoughts on what the team could use, speak up!
Daniel, we're just about wrapping up a mission here, so you'll be able to come in hopefully quite soon, when the team is more or less officially set up and they get hooked up with a Fixer. (Which I guess is small spoilers for the players, but I think you guys knew that was coming anyway.)
Hey everyone, I want to give yet another deep apology for my extended absence from the site. It started with a somewhat impromptu trip last week (my younger brother is looking at colleges) that left me with much less time and wifi access than I'd expected. I had really hoped to post regularly leading up to the weekend, but it didn't happen. Then this weekend was the expected absence from a paintball event, but I'd meant to start posting again as soon as possible after returning from that.
This week, I don't know that there's a tangible reason for my not updating so far, and I know that's really sh*tty but I'd rather be honest than come up with some other excuse. I don't know if it's just that I've been working on other stuff, or that I haven't had the mental energy, or what exactly, but I just couldn't get on here to update things. That's a really crappy place to be regardless, but it's definitely a bad place to be as someone running a game for other people (or playing in them).
In any case, it's come to a close, whatever it was, and I want to get stuff moving again as best as I can. I'm going to try and update everything intermittently throughout today, and tomorrow if I don't get to it all, so look for updates. If all the absences have killed the flow or your mood for the game, I fully understand, so just let me know, but I am really hopeful to be a better GM in terms of posting frequency. Thanks.
(I also agree that we could probably bring on a new player or two since it looks like we're down to four--if you know of anyone who'd be interested, let them know to shoot me a PM, otherwise I'll try opening a recruitment.)
Donny has no more information to offer, but he looks even more nervous and on edge after Nick's actions. You get the feeling that if he had more water in his system, it might be leaking into his pants about now.
Not really anything more to say here, so unless you have anything more you want to ask specifically, I think the call to the Muldoons is up next; I'll give it until tomorrow or someone posts one way or the other.
Thanks for the well wishes, Emissary. It was indeed a nice several days, but I'm back now. I will be gone again this coming weekend on a paintball trip, so don't expect anything then, but I'm here for the week and should be able to post fairly regularly throughout!
"Crusher at my...?" Donny screws up his face in thought as he accepts and downs the bourbon. He coughs, and shakes his head, doing his best to keep from ogling outright. "I dunno. Maybe he was just looking for me? I don't think I owed him--oh, drek, he probably realized I took one of his beers when I left last. He drinks the real stuff, you know, real protective of it. F*ck, I didn't think he'd notice." Donny shakes his head again, then lets out a nervous chuckle. "But uh, I guess that doesn't matter now. Far as the elf goes, I dunno. Dunno about that thing either, what is it, a card? Your guess is as good as mine. But yeah, probably he was one of those weirdos, there to get the address. The guy gave it to me, said to call if I needed help. I never used it, though. He ran into me often enough."
Hey all, posting in to let you know that I'm going to a summer camp with my family for a few days, starting tomorrow. I won't have Internet access or my laptop with me, so I don't expect to be posting at all while I'm there, but it's only a few days--tomorrow afternoon through Friday afternoon. Feel free to take the time to RP, discuss things out of character, or anything else you like--I should be back and updating things Friday evening or Saturday morning to keep things moving as soon as I can.
I think there are still some lingering issues with the forums going around; missing posts seems a common problem these days.
"Crusher? Nah, he liked me well enough by now. Spent a long time gettin' him to chum it up with me. Blowtorch, though... I doubt he'd be too happy." Donny stays still as he's patted down, and Paladin doesn't find anything on him--weapons, wallet, commlink, nothing. Donny blinks when his file is mentioned, and he slumps a little, but he doesn't respond to the gibe.
"Alright, alright. I'll tell you what I know." He sighs and licks his lips, apparently gathering a thought before it dies for want of company, before beginning to speak. Realistically he'd just respond with basics to your question, but I'm guessing the interrogation will continue for a bit, so I'll just give the total of what he says related to this here.
Donny's Story:
"I ran into 'em about a month back first time. I was at a club, right, and I, uh, didn't hit it off with anyone so well. So I'm sitting at a table and this guy comes up to me. In a f*ckin' robe, of all things. He says I look down and out, don't know what I'm doin'. I told him to bite me, but he just kept talkin'. Told me I should come to a meeting or some drek. Eventually I tell the guy sure, just to get him off my back, right? He smiles, says he'll be in touch and walks away. I figure he's high on somethin' and I'd like to know what, but I just go home.
"So a few days later I get a knock on my door, early f*ckin' morning. I open it up and there's two of these drekheads outside, robes and everything. They say their brother told 'em to come get me. This point I think they're some Universal Brotherhood type drek and I tell 'em to buzz, but they get real on my case about it. So I start to argue, but halfway through, I guess..." Donny's eyes get a little unfocused, and then he shrugs. "I guess I just decided it wasn't worth the time to argue. Figure hey, quicker I go quicker it's over with. So I head down with 'em, they got a car. They said I had to be blindfolded for safety, I guess? I didn't like it, but I went along.
"So when the blind comes off I'm in... Actually, I think it was here. Go figure. And the assh*le from the club is here. I don't remember most of what he said, but basically it was like, he thought we could help each other, even if I didn't want to join their group. Like, if I met with him and told him stuff when he wanted, he'd help me out too. I say, sure. I mean, you can't have too many people watching your back, and to be honest, at the time, the Morellis didn't seem like they were the winning hand. Neither did the Chrome Boys.
"So last month or so I've met with the guy every couple days, sometimes my place, sometimes he comes up when I'm getting lunch or something. Seems like he can always find me when he wants. I tell him what's going on. So a few days ago I told him about the Muldoon b*tch, and how last week at one of the family gatherings her brat threw up on my new shoes. He got real interested in that, and said we should do something to get back at her. Seemed ballsy, but... I dunno. Somethin' about what he said, it made sense, you know? Get back at everyone who thought I was nothing, and maybe get in good with the Morellis, right?
"So a couple days back, we got it all set up. He played Johnson to get some lowlifes to do the job, said it'd be easier than runners and wouldn't leave any traces to me. Told me they were gonna kidnap the girl and her kid, get a ransom, and then he'd funnel half to me and I could let the Morellis know I got it done, quiet-like. He offered me a safe place to stay for a few days, before it all blew over, and I said sure. Next day, same two goons from before show up and bring me here, blindfold again. I knew this would be the safehouse, I'd have told him to buzz."
Donny finishes and sniffs, then swallows nervously. "Before you ask, I don't know the guy's name. He was a human, dirty blond hair, maybe in his forties? Had cybereyes, they changed color a lot, so that doesn't help. He didn't tell me too much about what his group was into, but, uh, he did mention a name." Donny licks his lips. "Said it was the Conference of Seven Dreamers. Dunno if that means anything to you."
That name doesn't mean anything to any of you, other than sounding (as you can imagine) like one of the many New Age cults that's cropped up in the Sixth World's time. I know that was a lot, so if you have any questions, or just want to take some time to read it over and think on it, let me know here or in Discussion.
Donny takes one nervous look to the side, then glances back at Sarge's gun, and then he raises his hands, defeated. "I'm comin' quiet an' easy. No need to get quick with the triggers, huh?" He begins walking up the stairs, taking them one at a time, and he doesn't any moves that could be described as threatening or stupid. At the top, he does blink as he looks around at the team. "So who are you guys, huh? Buddies sold me out? Chrome Boys hiring out to hit squads? Morellis maybe, cleaning up the mess." As he looks around, his gaze lingers on Anya, and it's clear he's doing more than just appreciating the human form.
Paladin's gun-flick draws him back to reality, though, and he hurriedly moves to the wall. Whether out of fright or muscle memory, he assumes the typical position of someone under arrest and interrogation--hands on the wall, legs spread wide, face close to the surface. "Yeah, this ain't Lone Star's house, I'll tell you that much. Not that I know anything about the boys in blue. I'm sorry to hear you imply such a thing." He sniffs, then continues. "This place, I got hooked up with through some friends. But I'm guessing they're the ones who told you where to find me, so I guess they're omae no more, huh?"
Wraith steps downstairs to look around, but there isn't much to see, and her radar doesn't pick up much. The basement is a single room, smaller than the building above, maybe fifteen feet on a side. The floor and walls are all plain cement, with a thick layer of dirt across the floor. The first thing she notices is the awful smell--the kind that builds up when a person is stuck in a room like this for a few days, with a metal bucket instead of modern plumbing. There's a single blanket and a pillow in one corner, opposite the bucket, and a few wrappers and two plastic bottles next to it. Beyond that, the room is bare. Whoever Donny's mysterious buddies are, they don't go in for luxuries, it seems.
Sorry for falling behind again so quickly--work is neverending, and as soon as it seems like one thing's finished another pops up. Updates tomorrow, hopefully.
Alright, apologies again for the long delays. Hopefully things will be back on track from here. I'll do a little more assuming in this post than normal to keep things going, so it isn't just a tiny update with calls for rolls or something.
There's a bit of back and forth on the comms, but eventually the team is in gear to finish things out and find Donny--or what's left of him. By car, bike, taxi, or feet, they head down to the address Paladin received, and congregate a couple buildings down before approaching as a group. The address is right along the waterfront of Dorchester Bay, and looks to be a small, abandoned building, likely some sort of store. The windows are completely covered over with sheet metal or wooden boards, but the door is unlocked when someone tries it.
Inside, the place matches the outer shell: abandoned, run-down, and hollow. The tiled floor is cracked and covered in dust and grime, and the walls are much the same, devoid of decoration beyond the stains of disuse. There's a door to a back room, which is much smaller than the main area and equally empty. For a brief while the group isn't sure what's going on, but then someone catches a muffled sound from the floor. One quick search later, and a cleverly concealed trap door is found under a section of the lone counter in the building. With a little effort the structure is swiveled out of the way, and the door is pried up to reveal a steep stairway heading down.
"F*ckin' finally!" The nasal voice calls out from the dim room below almost as soon as the team opens the door. "Christ, you stick a guy in a safe house, you'd think there'd be somethin' to do. I been down here four f*ckin' days with what, two water bottles and some Stuffer Shack sandwiches?" The owner of the voice comes into view at the bottom of the stairs, gesturing at the room in annoyance. "I mean, you could at least..." His voice cuts out when he turns to look up, and his thin face turns pale.
He looks the worse for wear from his days in this basement, with grease and dirt visible across his hair and face. His plain white wifebeater tank top has stains on it, and a patchy growth of stubble is stretched along his jaw. But from his beady eyes to his misshapen nose, it's easy to recognize the man as the object of your search: Donny Basso, in the flesh.
Really just waiting on me. I haven't been able to get on the site the last few days, and before that it was down whenever I had the time and energy to update as a GM. My deepest apologies for the delays, but I should have more reliable access and enough time to post in the next couple days, so hopefully I'll get things going again as early as this evening!
Hey all, just posting in to let you know that I probably won't be updating things until Sunday evening or Monday morning (EST). My great-grandmother passed away a couple days ago, and some family I haven't seen in a while is visiting, so I don't expect to have the opportunity to post. Sorry for the delay, and thanks for your understanding.
That said, you're basically finished with this mission, so congratulations on that front!
I'll wait to update until I make sure I know what you guys are planning to do here, but I think there's been some mix-up on timing. I believe we're still late in the evening right now, at least with the crew at Paladin's place--I don't think they were waiting to sleep before finding out what they could with the leads you have. That said, it also makes sense that you might want to take a rest before continuing, since it's been an eventful time for the lot of you lately.
Just let me know your plan either way, and once I've heard from a couple folks who are in agreement, we'll get this going. (Alternatively, if a day or two passes without that, I'll just push things forward.)
Paladin opens his program and sends the address a message. There's a long, tense moment... and nothing happens. He stares at the program window for a few seconds, and then they turn into a minute, which stretches into three.
Finally, after nearly five minutes of waiting, an icon pops up indicating that the other party is composing a response. A few moments later, several messages come in, very quickly.
19290400: Save or remember this.
19290400: 17 Ocean View Drive.
19290400: Bring a bag for the garbage.
19290400: We'll be in touch.
Paladin has only a few seconds to wonder about the meaning of the final pair of messages before the first line's meaning is clear: the entire program starts glitching, with static disrupting the view and the messages fragmenting into bits. It's clearly a virus encoded in the final transmission, and although Paladin is able to work quickly and mitigate the damage, the conversation is soon lost into the ether of the Matrix.
Just popping in while updating games to check in that everything's good with everybody. I know that sometimes decisions over what to do can paralyze a game, especially something like Shadowrun. If you're wondering about what to do or you want a little more info or to double check on anything, let me know! I'm happy to help you guys as I can.
Alright, everyone, sorry for the long delay. That said, finals are finished, graduation is over, and I'm back home, so my posting should be mostly back to a regular schedule from here on out, at least for a while!
I also assume most of the time that you guys are able to share information with one another--particularly if you spend a little on purchases to that effect (microtransceiver systems, mostly). Even in the core book, Shadowrun assumes that the characters are in more or less constant contact with one another while working as a team, unless there's a good reason they couldn't be. I don't plan on messing with that unless there's a good reason plotwise.
The two groups of the team reach their homes safely, and settle in for the evening. Having gotten what info he could on the commlink, Paladin turns to the strange metal card, but there isn't much he can do. Not only is the item free of markings, but it isn't engraved, either, and as far as he can tell it has no actual properties that can be cracked, short of trying to physically bend or break it. On close inspection, it's also slightly larger than your standard keycard, but that doesn't really give any information on its own--especially given its lack of any identification.
Hey all! I felt I owed you guys a quick note on what's going on since I haven't updated recently. I'm in my final week of classes as an undergraduate, and it's at least as busy as that phrase suggests. I've got projects due, papers to write, tests to take, and a decent chunk of a novel to write and revise and polish up. Add in extracurricular stuff--two shows over the course of last weekend--and going over essays for the students I'm TAing for... and I'm a little pressed for time.
I'm not abandoning these games by any means, but I don't know how well I'll be able to post for the next week or so (until finals are over and everything's turned in). My hope is to have time to post on this Thursday at least, and perhaps over this weekend, but I can't guarantee anything. So please bear with me for a little while, and we'll get things going again as soon as I can!
