April 2072
|
Sun April 1 2072
Up near Toponah, Ute Nation, on the northern boundry of the old Nellis Air Force Bombing Range, a convoy of three missing recreational vehicles, that had been headed from Las Vegas to Reno, were found in a box canyon, burnt to the axles. No survivors were found, and the local Marshal is attributing it to 'those goddamn Apache'.
|
|
Tues April 3 2072
Somewhere near the abandoned Historia Theme Park, over the Rustbelt, a customized Thunderbird with heavy weapons - that is - a partially or fully militarized air craft, was shot down by a CAS UGSAM. These relics of border defense are not TECHNICALLY militarization due to quirks of the treaty that allow protection of airspace and border integrity, and as automated systems, they require no military oversight. Fun things, these underground missile pods. Scattered along the border and, a little like land mines, people forget where they are.
Well. That TBird knows where one is. Right up it's ass.
|
|
Thu April 5 2072
Truth be told, when it comes down to it, folks down in the warrens have had a chance to think about it, both men - Flint and Air - have compelling and interesting sides of this story. When it comes down to it, Air's got the stronger rep and people are more likely to believe him. Also, they hear he shoots people in the the back, and that's a compelling argument in itself.
(Air rolled a 10 on his etiquette test, Flint rolled 9. Public opinion comes down on Air's side. +20 Prestige (correcting previous loss) for air, -5 Prestige for Flint)
|
|
Thu April 5 2072
Word on the street is Flint called in debts. Called in markers. Money floods his way, but his respect on the street drops until he can rebuild his favor-bank, if you know what I mean…
(Prestige Spend: -1000 Prestige.)
|
|
Thu April 12 2072
Sometimes, you cash in your chips while you're ahead. Sometimes, you just sort of fold and step away from the table before anyone knew you were there. Offered a position as a security liaison with Gunderson in Miami, Summer Carter, known on the streets as 'echo', decamps back to Miami.
Retired: Summer
|
|
Wed April 25 2072
News has come out of Halferville, the Terrorist that attacked the facility is to be executed on the 20th of May. This delay is only so that special experts may be called in to try to determine who was behind the attack. Rumor has it that the elf mage was severely injured, and is in a coma.
|
|
Wed April 25 2072
Barstow California: The peace is uneasy out here, it seems the gangs are holding sway on the town, and despite that, things are fairly calm. Most days. Today though, the ork known as Steel decided to pick a fight with one of the elven gang members, a sturdy elf girl with hand razors. The overconfident ork quickly found the girls skill to be more than he could handle, and when he drew his assault rifle to fire….things got worse. Witnesses said it was over so fast they don't know exactly what happened, but what came after, everyone in Barstow was talking about.
Steel currently hangs on the side of the old Pioneer Bank, cruicified to the wall with rebar through his cyberlimbs. A sign hangs from his chest for all to read 'Guilty: Disturbing the Peace'
|
|
Wed April 25 2072
Later, underneath Steel's still-hanging form, someone scrawls in spray paint: SIC SIMPER NOVO-HOMO.
|
|
Thu April 26 2072
Exposition, not for player IC knowlede.
Mercutio and Junjiro sit in a cafe in Lisbon, Portugal. They could not look more different, these two. Mercutio, a sort of neo-gypsy with his long and bald african features, bald head and simple, almost homespun clothing with the little bells sewn into it. Junjiro, the very dashing picture of the japanese businessman with a rakishly styled goatee, japanese features and heavy brow, dark black hair slicked back into a pony tail and his impeccably tailored suit.
"My brother." Says Mercutio, echewing his usual third person canter and pace.
"My brother." Returns Junjiro, picking up his drink and giving it a sip. It's a thick greenish sludge called Quaha, a turkish sort of coffee. That strips paint.
Mercutio adds sugar - three packets - to his tea, sweetening it to a point the Queen of England might slap him for. "The Bloodgates seem to be coming along nicely for you, despite my best efforts."
"Do not sound so dejected, brother. You have secured the burning stills. I have all but secured the bloodgates, it is true - and there is very little you can do to stop it. You know what your problem is?"
"No." Deadpans Mercutio. "Why don't you enlighten me, brother."
"Your problem is the same as it has been for three ages. You offer them no gain for their choices. You give them nothing worth fighting for. Like, that woman - the mother in Denver. You took away her responsibility - by her choice - and gave her nothing for it. I promise you, now she feels stupid, spinning concoctions of conspirisy in her mind and turning -you- in to the jeudo-christian Devil."
"In Judeo-Christian Mythology, the devil represents informed choice, which is at complete odds with the concept of faith-based devotion devoid of choice or reason. I do not find this unreasonable."
"Always the thinker, Mercutio. You should /feel/ more. People /love/ to feel right. Remember that your peace is a lie - and only exists because it is punctuated by war."
"This has been very good tea, Brother. But I must be going."
|
|
Thu April 26 2072
North of Sacramento, there is the town of Roseville. It's an economic center, servicing both agricultural and industrial needs, home to about a hundred thousand people. Teddy Gaines is playing with a group of his friends - 12 years old. His father is a member of the home guard, a captain. Deployed in Davis to help with the rebuilding, Teddy has not seen his father in weeks.
So he's taken to dressing up in his father's old Cal-Guard camouflage. It's not got any markings on it. No Cal-guard logos. Just oversized pants and a field jacket, with a helmet he plays in. They run in the street, as dusk falls, playing soldiers. His friends scatter down the street as the Japanese patrol comes through, riding in their LAV.
The man on the top does not hesitate when he sees the soldier. Everyone's on edge. Everyones worried. Hefting his assault rifle, he draws down and lets a shot fly down range.
The bullet catches Teddy at the base of his spine, severing the cord. Legs flop to rubber bonelessness as he hits the ground. The next round ends his life. Children die all the time in the 6th world. This child is no different. But then, what was different about the Lusitania that prompted action? What about Anne Frank tugs at heartstrings? The fact that they are normal in the course of their own events. That they do not stand out, is something that awakens us to that they ought.
|
|
Fri April 27 2072
Did you hear about Steel? Yeah. He's pretty bad ass in a fight. No lie there - he's pretty bad ass in a fight. But thats the problem. He acts like a hammer, so all the worlds a slotten' nail. Every situation he's in somehow degenerates into a fight of some sort. Like a job he took with Walker and Eastwood in which Steel decided to pick a fistfight - with gangers. Now, people know Steel's armored up like a tank, so it should be no surprise that an unfair fistfight became an unfair fist-and-grenade fight. What was that guy thinking?
OOC
PP Loss: Tycho, 100.
PPLoss: Hunni, Boomstick, 25.
|
|
Fri April 27 2072
While we're on the subject of things not to do in a warzone… Looks like Steel's got himself a fancy ruthenium suit and thinks it makes him a ninja. So a black helicopter sneaks into Bakersfield during the siege, people rappel down and and steal California's VX gas… then Steel decides to walk into General Gill's command post with some other people, but invisible and not announcing himself. Then - in the middle of tense discussions, he pops out of his ruth and starts talking like nothing's wrong! That's one fullborg who damn near became a swiss-cheese-borg. Seems Tinman took some control of the situation and promised to give Steel a beatdown. Maybe that's what Barstow was really about?
PP loss: Tycho, -75. Softened from 100 due to this action being unlinked to a plot in which he received reward.
|
|
Fri Apr 27 2072
Did you hear? The Tinman's been sticking up for Steel. Apparently Steel rode shotgun on some big ass job to save some folks in Cali and the Tinman was impressed. Also, I gotta admit, it takes a lot to be nailed to a wall and live. I suppose Steel ain't all bad. I just hope someone holds on to his leash a bit tighter. Looks like Tinman's picking up the slack.
PP Gain: Tycho - +10
PP Loss: Mafen - -10
Normally something this small would not get an emit. But this is Mafen putting his own reputation on the line for Tycho, and that means if something goes wrong, it's Mafen who's going to get smacked, not Tycho.
|
|
Sat April 28 2072
Meanwhile, in Seattle… The USS President Dunklezhan has put to sea with her battlefleet. Originally scheduled to do her sea-trials in mid summer, the UCAS Navy has decided to move up her shakedown cruise immediately. The Sovereign Tribal Council has been made aware that Buckley Air Force Base in Denver will see a marked uptick in traffic as man, materials and aircraft for 'The Dunks' air wing are flown into position.
|
|
Mon April 30 2072
Meanwhile, Back in Roseville…
People say one bullet can be the difference between peace and rebellion. Perhaps, but it's not the bullet that is the spark of what's to come. It's the voices that follow.
War is horrible, but as long as it's on the other side of the trid screen while one has their morning coffee or relaxes after a day at work then it never truely pieces the heart of those not directly affected. Not until one puts a face to it. The face of Teddy Gaines, his picture displayed by the tearful image of his mother. It's the perfect piece to pull at the heart and set things in motion.
|
|
Mon April 30 2072
The town of Roseville is a bubbling cauldron. Death has hung over Cal-free like a cloud the entire conflict, but the death of a child has sent things from comfortable to about to boil over. Japanese forces aren't offered looks of respect, fear or even indifference the way they had been. For every person that turns away as the patrols roll through there's another face with eyes of anger and defiance.
Something's going to give.
|
|
Mon April 30 2072
The Warrens has been a pretty quiet place for a long while. But maybe it only seems that way? That seems more reasonable, that people are simply distracted. Here you are, in your nice highrise condo, or your pissy little bar in Shenandoah, or maybe, maybe you're up at the Dungeon shaking your ass for 20 nuyen in corpscript and hoping to score enough to get a hit of NOVA before you go home. NO matter where you are, for about two miles around the blast zone, there's a shuddering boom that rattles windows - and it rises from Tir Llewn.
Later in the night, it will come out that Ratman John, a local burnt out street shaman was trying to commune with the spirit of a propane tank using a blowtorch.
Thats… not such a good plan.
|
|
Mon April 30 2072
It's not second later when pretty much everyone in Orktown and Tir Llewn loses their collective shit. Gunfire breaks out. Cause, the Orks think the Elves attacked (They are not master strategists), the elves think the Orks attacked (More rightly possible, as there's a crater where a building ought be) and quickly, everyones shooting at everyone. Well, kind of in the air too.
|
|
|
