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As the team begins to scout the place, and ready for the drop, Michael exits the van with his camo suit and mask on. Even if things weren't so fishy, it's a good idea to have someone in the wings in case a drop goes wrong... and with everything happening the way it has, someone ready to come out and surprise might be just what the group needs. So he looks for an inconspicuous way to get into the parking garage and move for the spot, his pistol concealed at the ready.
"Actually, I have an idea of what we should do with it. Could you find us a Lone Star cruiser?" Michael gives a thin, quick smile. "Just in case they can still track it, might be good to send them on a chase."
Back at the safe house, Michael looks at Bogatir with concern, but he doesn't say anything. Comforting words were never exactly his forte, and it's been some time since he saw the old ork. An attempt at sympathy might console him, or it might stoke the fires that Michael knows Bogatir still has burning inside... and Michael himself isn't sure which he'd prefer. So instead, he simply dresses for the new outing, exchanging his suit for his armored camouflage attire, and slotting some extra magazines for his pistol into the pockets. He also picks up his ballistic mask, figuring it might be good to take along for some additional protection. Once he's ready to go, he turns to join Alter and Derek, with all of his gear either worn or carried in a briefcase. "I'm ready when you are." In the van, Michael sits on standby, ready to assist as needed, or just keep an eye out for trouble. When Alter turns off the area jammer, he nods and dons his mask.
Michael calmly nods at Bogatir and Alter as they turn to him. "The egg itself is normal. Beyond being a valuable and unique piece of art, anyway. But this..." He holds up the fake part that conceals the tracking device. "This was cleverly concealed and obviously important enough to potentially affect the piece's appearance. I don't think we should just trash or drop it. I'd like to know a little about who was tracking this, if you can trace it." He nods as Alter turns on her jammer. "And then maybe send them on a goose chase."
Michael remains kneeling on the floor of the van, calmly waiting for a break in the action so someone can examine the tracker. Right now, it's time for the other team members to do their jobs--he's got a firm feeling that his time for explosive action is coming up soon, probably starting when the van chase ends.
Michael holds onto the tracker for now, waiting to see how this chase goes. Simply tossing it out of the car won't do the group any good--their pursuers would still follow them. On the other hand, being able to analyze it at some point might be incredibly helpful. Having Derek or Alter look at the engineering could point toward a source, and who knows what else might be of interest? So for now, Michael keeps crouched on the floor of the van, cradling the egg in one hand and holding the tracker in the other. He calmly turns and speaks to Alter, figuring she might come out of Matrix space sooner. "Alter, I have something for you to look at when you get the chance."
Michael's magically enhanced reflexes work now as always, keeping him moving quicker than possible for a regular human, even if only to continue searching the egg for trackers.
Michael continues his search. As the machine gun opens up, the noise pounding through the car, he fights to avoid startling or speeding up. Fast work is sloppy work. Trust your team. They will handle it. You do your job.
Michael doesn't curse or comment as he works, merely continuing to probe the egg in search of devices. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.
Michael nods at Bronze's words and crouches down, easily reaching out a hand to steady himself as Bogatir executes hair-raising evasive maneuvers. Just like old times. Not giving himself a chance to linger on the thought, the infiltrator sets about looking over the egg for any traces of tracking or the like. "Can anyone check the van while we're moving? Alter?"
Michael gets into the van with the others, and finally lets the egg free of his tight cradling, setting it carefully on a seat. "Are you good to drive?" he asks Derek. His tone isn't suggestive either way of his own thoughts.
Hey all, posting this in all my games to let people know I'll be away for a few days. My family is headed to camp later today, and I won't have Internet or my computer while I'm there. I should be back and posting Friday afternoon/evening (Eastern Time), but please push the game as needed, botting my character if you need to do so. Thanks!
Michael doesn't break stride as he approaches the guards--moving is surviving, as far as he's concerned. He keeps his speed up and dives for cover behind one of the crates, firing a pair of shots as he goes, aiming for one of the guards in a suit.
Michael ducks into cover and shifts the egg to his off hand. He glances at the others of the team and whispers into his mic. <What do we think? Keep going, or give up here?> If we surrender:
Michael gives a slight nod and gingerly holds the egg out from behind his cover. Slowly, gently, he sets it down on the ground, and then holds out both hands, empty and non-threatening. <Then play it cool, everyone. Our best bet to get out of this is to make it clear we aren't going to do anything stupid.> If we keep shooting: Michael nods, and in a flash his pistol is in hand. He steps to the edge of his cover and fires once, aiming for the big ork--maybe it'll hurt, but at the least it'll send a message.
Michael doesn't cringe at the shattered vase and the subsequent alarms, but he isn't happy about this turn of events. He spins to face the others, and gingerly shifts the egg from pressing into the bruised spot on his ribs. It would be good to get the bullet out now... but we need to keep moving. He shakes off as much of the pain as he can and gets on the move again, as quickly as possible now that their cover's blown.
<Shock and awe, I read you, Bronze.> Michael gets the message off just as he sees the guards up ahead, and he tucks over to try and avoid fire. He only grunts as he feels his suit soak the first hit, but the second pounds into his gut and he nearly loses his footing for a moment. He keeps on his feet in the end, though, and charges down the hallway, leaping into a spinning kick as he gets within range of the closest guard.
I find Theater of the Mind can work really well for most games, and I think for something like Shadowrun it should be fine. As long as we have an abstract sense of the surroundings and can wave small things--"You're in a parking garage, so yeah, with a move you can get some cover behind a pillar or a car"--it should work out fine.
Michael gingerly picks up the egg and holds back a sigh of relief, only to let it out as a hissed curse a moment later. His cynical side knew this run was too easy, especially given the potential links to the Dragon, and the oddities to the security present. There's nothing for it now, though, so he just tucks it in his arms as best he can and sprints for the exit. <Keep to the plan as long as we can!> he says, the microtransceiver in his throat turning the mutter into a shout.
Michael nods and takes the device from Derek. He's already dressed in his suit for the occasion, with his concealed body armor on underneath. His pistol is tucked in its custom holster under his armpit, and he has the security tag on his lapel. Other tools are secreted away under his waistband, in small pockets inside the coat. He studies the device for a moment, and then slips it into an inner breast pocket and looks round. "Alright. Let's do this." - - - - - Michael gets a taxi to a store a block over from the museum, and then walks to the security entrance. He keeps his eyes forward, his face bland, his gait easy and professional. The suit fits, and as long as his mannerisms don't draw any attention, the security tag will get him past machine and man alike.
Once he's in, Michael slips off as soon as he can, and makes his way to the vent he'd spotted earlier. He watched the guard rotations then, and his very presence might make others less likely to come near--so when the time is right, he quickly pulls out his miniwelder and cuts his way into the vent . With a final check to make sure no one sees him, he pulls himself up into the hidden passage and begins carefully, calmly, and above all quietly crawling toward the target.
"I'll stay here as well. I found an apartment for rent, but..." Michael lets the thought trail off, and nods at the others as they head home. In the safehouse, he goes through his old room and finds the grooming kit he left behind when he left. That evening he spends a good while in front of the mirror, trimming and shaving and generally shaping himself back into a more professional appearance.
"If it is, we'll take care of it." Michael is running a hand across his jaw, and for someone else it might be an absent-minded gesture, but you're sure he's gauging its thickness and whether or not he'll need to shave, what length to trim to. "The defenses are more than we expected, but we also found advantages. There are air vents that should provide easy, unguarded access. We have a security pass." The infiltrator looks around and drops his arm. "If it comes to a vote, I say yes. We can do this."
"The whole thing reeks of the Dragon to me," Michael says, breaking the professional demeanor for a moment. "Guards on-site were well-trained, uniforms and pistols. All German. That on its own isn't too strange, Germany's had leading firearms manufacturers for a century or more, but on top of everything else?" He absently straightens his own suit, now unbuttoned for easier movement. "There were some air vents that looked promising, but direct infiltration may be our best bet. If we've got an ID card, I can wear my Mortimer of London and try to blend in." A second later, he sniffs. "Might need to shave first, though."
Having studied the guards and memorized as much as he can of their appearance, Michael considers the room, but eventually decides against it. They're still in planning; better to be cautious than overplay your hand, and the vent will be more useful as a backup route during the run than a scouting option now. "Blue, I don't think I'll get eyes in the room. Fill us in on everything you're seeing in there. Between that and intel we should have enough. I'll be on standby in here, let me know when you're ready to leave."
Michael notes the information as he spots it, and pauses when he reaches the ID scanner. "Looks like the exhibit isn't open to the public just yet," he says, stepping back and walking down another hall. "I'll say one thing, this place will open right up once we have that security card. And the good news is the suits here should make it easy to blend in." Since it looks like it'll be tricky to get eyes on the target at the moment, Michael switches tactics and finds a good spot to watch some guards, noting the style of suits they're wearing, how they're moving. It'll be useful for impersonating one later--the more complete a disguise, the less likely anyone will question it in the first place.
Michael continues to keep the team updated as he works. "Open window around back. I'm inside." After he's made sure nobody spotted him coming in, the man makes for a more open area, one where the public is mingling. Once he's in with the crowds, it should be simple enough to just blend in. He ends up in an offshoot hallway as he looks for anything of value, and glances up. "There's an air vent here. Could be useful. Do we have schematics of the vent system?" Even as he asks the question he lowers his gaze and keeps moving--it won't do to get caught looking too intently at a fixture like that just as it won't do to climb up inside and get stuck. "In fact, we should probably double-check all the intel, because I'm not seeing heavy security. Blue, can you check for Awakened?" Not sure what more is to be found here, Michael begins surreptitiously working his way toward the target, moving casually and pausing to examine other exhibits along the way.
I've been kind of busy, and trying to think over what to do here at this point. I meant to post yesterday, but this slipped through. I should get something up later today.
Michael falls back into old tricks with ease: he arrives at the museum in much the same way he appeared at the safe house, and almost instantly begins feeding information on what he's seeing to the rest of the team--both with his contact image link and communications through his subvocal mic. "Security's basic, but effective. Looks like guards on duty at the main entrance, doing their job. Better than rent-a-cops, anyway." He pauses to look around, and gauges whether he should test the entrance security--see if he can slip past since MADS don't reveal anything strange about him. In the end, though, he figures that can wait, especially since it could make a scene. Instead, he begins to scope around the building and the block, looking for other potential entry points--back doors, low unguarded windows, an alley with a cheap fence or gate. Even leaping from a next-door building will do in a pinch, although it's not his preferred method of ingress. Potentially Useful Rolls: 1 hit
"I'll take a look around," Michael replies, referring to scoping out the job site. He glances at the orks, a smile ghosting to his lips for a moment as he watches them fall into their old banter and get into the mood for their side of job prep. He also looks to Blue, concerned about the possibility of leaving the elf alone while he enters astral space. On the one hand, Derek and his drone would likely still be in the safe house while Blue was projecting... but on the other, that might itself be a potential problem. In the end it's neither his place nor his inclination to question it. Everyone on the team has their specialties, and they all know their own strengths and weaknesses, as well as those of the others, for the most part. If Blue is comfortable staying here to project, Michael isn't going to second-guess him. "Give me the address and I'll be on the move. Feel free to keep an eye on me while I'm there," Michael adds, looking at Blue again. "It will be... nice to have someone watching my back again." After a moment, he snaps his fingers and sets his briefcases on the table, opening the one filled with equipment. He slides up the gun holder--conspicuously missing the Urban Fighter--and pulls his commlink and a small earpiece from one compartment. "Speaking of, we should make sure our comms are all connected, secure channels and all. Alter, would you do the honors?"
Michael nods at Derek's admission. Good enough. He steps forward to listen in, keeping quiet and paying attention. The job still sounds good--it isn't unlike some of the runs they'd pulled back in the day, and it plays to their strengths. If Alter's still as good as she was, and Blue's still working his wiz, it might almost be a milk run. The only problem is the Dragon, and that's not even direct. When Derek shows the piece they're grabbing, that gives Michael some more pause as a more direct link to dragons, but even so, it's a flimsy one. The pay is solid, very solid, and the team shouldn't have any issues working this if everything goes smoothly. There's the trouble, though. Does a run ever go smoothly? Michael can think of a few that got close, but perfection is hard to come by. "Sounds like you've worked out everything you can," he says, finally. "Time for on-site reconnaissance, then? Blue on the astral, I'll take the hands-on side of things?" The idea of a double-cross is neither new nor particularly worrying to Michael. When you operate on the assumption that any stranger might be about to pull a gun on you, you end up ready to deal with any actual threats that come your way.
Michael gives Bogatir a wider smile at his comment, and nods. "I could use a trim," he offers. Inside, he stands waiting while Derek clambers out of the rig and says his piece. Seeing the elf like this, so thin, so desperate, is nothing but saddening. Michael first met Derek near the beginning of his habits, back when simsense was still enough--usually--to give his fix. Now, he seems to have hit rock bottom, and Michael just hopes he doesn't have a pickaxe to keep digging. If it's bad enough that he needed to stash his BTLs with someone else, though... As Derek finishes his teary apology, Michael shakes his head. "Bronze is right. It can't be forgotten. Maybe it can't be forgiven. But we're dealing with now." He can't help glancing at the simrig, and at Alter, himself, but they're quick looks, almost unnoticeable. "Just stay on the job."
Michael arrives the same way he did in the past: one moment there's an empty street, and the next, he comes walking around the corner, suddenly in view and back in the lives of the rest of the team. It's a familiar sight--when he isn't riding with one of the team, he uses public transport and foot travel. His outfit is familiar as well, a formal suit in the Neo-Japanese style. He looks like the consummate professional, and it would be easy to think of him as a regular sarariman, if the men outside weren't sure the suit is made with Kevlar weave--not to mention accompanied by an armored full-body ensemble and a pistol in a concealed holster sewn into the jacket. Above the collar, though, it wouldn't be much of an overstatement to say the man looks like drek. Even just a few years seem to have taken their toll, or maybe he's just let himself go recently. Hair that was once a close-cropped dusty brown is now shaggy, ragged ends reaching nearly to his jaw with touches of iron throughout. He used to keep a trimmed goatee with no more than hints of stubble across his jawline, but now a scruffy beard sits across the lower half of his face. His eyes are still sharp and alert, but they seem to have lost some of the sharp edge they had before. Overall, he still moves with grace, still looks the part, but the years are there. Then again, outside of our little team, how many shadowrunners hit middle age? Michael approaches the safe house and nods to the pair of men outside. "Blue. Bronze. Bogatir. Good to see you." He glances at the door, and then back at Blue. "And if you're out here... Derek's in his rig." He sighs and steps to the door. "You'll come in soon, I'm sure." He does offer a smile to the group, the only gesture of gladness he allows while in public. Inside, he nods at the others. "Alter. Junkyard. Blue's spirit." He even looks at Asimov and gives the spider drone a nod of recognition as he moves to stand by a chair. The look he sends Derek's way is more sad than angry, but he silently takes his place until the team is ready to talk. Come on, Derek. Don't bring us here and then send it to drek.
He usually refers to you simply as 'Shepherd', but it is less a reference to your name as it is a title. Blue cannot really explain why, if you ever bothered to ask. That sounds good to me. So long as we don't hit Mass Effect levels... but then, that could be a good thing, too.
Alright, after a lot of writing, the backstory is finished and in the profile. I can't help but feel like it seems a little rushed in the last couple sections, although that may just be me; the writing may not be my best, but I think it gets the important stuff across. Feel free to read through it, although I don't think Alias has fully shared the extent of the hitman thing with the group--they know there were some people after him (who are now dead), but they might not realize there are more. He also met Mister Johannessen after the group split--probably a year or so before the game starts--so he hasn't told them of that update yet. He has been reasonably up-front (as much as the term makes sense) about his amnesia as well, admitting fully that he doesn't know who he was before waking up in Seattle. I'll be putting in one more spoiler with description in a bit, although I'll also describe him in the first Gameplay post. And since we're all doing it, here's some of Michael/Alias's thoughts on the other members of the team... Alter: She's a good hacker, although she's a little younger than Michael would expect or truly feel comfortable with--she was still a teenager when they ran together, after all, and even if she's mature for her age, it's odd. Michael knows better than to question her skill, though, and even looks past her other oddities. The loss of her arm was a big catalyst for the team falling apart, and he wishes he could have done something to prevent it. Blue: Similar to Alter, Michael views Blue as a skilled and valuable member of the team, but younger than he'd expect. He recognizes the young man's strange looks as being likely related to issues in his past, but he never directly brought it up much, not wanting to come across as trying to guide or control. Blue is also most likely the one who first informed Michael that he was Awakened--up to that point, he just used his powers instinctively, not even aware of how they helped him. Bronze: Michael respects the ex-Lone Star ork, and while his hatred for law enforcement could be a potential risk, he keeps it in check well enough that it isn't a problem--certainly not as much as Derek's BTLs were. Bronze made a good sparring partner on occasion, and he was a good man to have lurking with a shotgun. Bogatir: Michael likes Bogatir, almost views the ork as a similar spirit--especially since they're about the same age, as near as Michael can tell. Like most of the team Bogatir seems to have a past he's tried to leave behind, but he seems more at ease with it in some ways--and equally as accepting of his future fate, it seems. Junkyard: Junkyard is a good man to have on any team, and Michael's certainly glad to have him on theirs. He appreciates Junkyard's desire for in-and-out jobs that don't have much trouble, and is happy to work with him to form infiltration plans that lend themselves to easy work. Of course, things rarely go so well, but that's why most of the team is very proficient in combat.
Hey all, still around and still excited! I know not having my backstory up makes it hard for people to gauge how character interactions should go, so I'm working on that. It's becoming a bit of a longer project than I'd anticipated--I enjoy scene writing, so I'm doing it like that--but I've got the first three parts up. They give a good look at Michael's "origins" and how he decided to start getting into running--the next part is going to be him meeting Derek, so that'll bring him pretty much up to speed with meeting the team. I'll hopefully have it wrapped up throughout the day tomorrow.
Hey all, glad to be here! I still don't have my backstory in the profile, but I've got it all worked out in my head--at least in the necessary details--so I'd be happy to talk about prior relations. I know we all have the obvious connection of being from the old team, so there's that, but deepening it with some knowledge of past events and how our characters view one another is probably a good plan. I'll try and have the backstory up on Michael soonish, but for now, the basics are that he's an adept skilled in infiltration and close-quarters combat, and he doesn't remember much from before he joined the team--it was a pretty quick jump to running from when he first "woke up" on a train to Seattle. |
