GM: Viktor
Players: Thog, Hardy
Synopsis: Three runners visit a Chinese doctor. Only one returns standing.
Date: 23JUN70
Po Chi Lam
You push open the heavy, auburn double doors to behold the inner courtyard of Po Chi
Lam. Stepping through the threshold, you pass under an elaborate red and gold gate
with the three characters Po Chi Lam, read right to left, which roughly translated
means "a forest of herbal treasures." Indeed that's the image that fills your brain as
the earthy, musky aromas of herbs, fungi and medicines assault your olfactory gland.
The assault is actually quite pleasant as you feel yourself almost instantly become
more alert.
The courtyard itself is fairly large, the half-meter thick clay walls do a
surprisingly good job at blocking out the din of bustling Asia Town without. A single,
red, cobblestone pathway blazes a straight path through the rectangular courtyard,
terminating between a pair of bronze, Chinese lions guarding a small wooden staircase
leading up to an open doorway in a cozy, medium sized building with gabled rooves
covered in red tiles. The east side of the courtyard has a long rack of weapons, like
the tall polearms known as the Guan Dao, a wicked looking Tiger's Fork trident,
several curved, broad bladed Da Dao, staves galore and others. The west side of the
courtyard is a lush garden, filled with rows upon rows of flowering plants, perky
looking herbs and vines creeping up trellaces.
DB Dix shakes his head after receiving likely the last person who'd call him
outside of work, or needing to be stitched up, "Crazy fraggin' keebler, always up to
something," sighing he pulls out his three piece suit yet again, dons it with his Ace
Up His Sleeve, loaded with hi-c rounds. After that stops by a local coffee shop that
serves real coffee, picking up a pound of middle ranged coffee as a gift, since type
of gift wasn't specified.
After passing through the check point he proceeds to this Chinese compound.
After passing the gates he waits to be greeted.
Hardy walks back towards the office of the Big House from the bar area. Its
been a long hot day already and several of the lunch crowd have been more rowdy than
ususal. He opens the door to his office and drops his bulk into the chair behind his
desk, soaking in the air conditioning. After a few moments his phone beeps with the
message from Viktor. He looks at it and sits back in the chair, "Bring gifts…huh…"
He considers this for a moment and then slides the phone into a pocket. The big troll
heads out of the office, locking the door behind him and heads into the Denver
streets. A quick walk takes him to his bike where he throws a leg over the pig and
kicks it to life.
Two border checks later, the troll rolls into the AZN district. He slides his
bike into a Chinese grocery and walks inside. After several minutes of browsing he
decides on fruit and buys eight pears. He buys a nice laquered box and has them
arranged neatly in the box before putting the box under his arm and heading back to
his bike. Again his leg rises and falls and the Harley roars into the afternoon sun,
taking Hardy to the predestined meet.
Pulling up in front of the walled area, Hardy kills the engine and coasts into
a space outside. He leaves his bike and collects the box, heading into the compound
looking for Viktor.
A bizarre sight greets the two of you. From within the open doorway ahead, an elf
steps out wearing a simple linen shirt, the kind that button up with knots and loops,
as well as loose fitting black pants. Neither of your recognize Viktor outside of his
traditional red hoodie and fatigues. The sun beats down on his scarred and mutilated
face and he grins, jogging down the pathway toward the two of you. Pressing out his
right fist with his left palm, he offers both of you a short bow.
"Welcome to Po Chi Lam, gents," he turns to the side and sweeps his hand to encompass
the building that occupies most of the courtyard, "the home and office of Dr. Huang
Wei Chen." The elf looks to see what each of you are carrying, "Y'all brought
somethin' right? Dr. Chen is a very respected individual in these parts." Seeing your
gifts he nods and says, "This way…"
As Viktor walks, he gives you a briefing. "Address Dr. Huang as Huang Shi Fu and bow
to him as I did to y'all. He's got something he wants y'all ta do for him." Escorting
you within the building, he breaks down the pronunciation of the words, correcting
your tones until you feel like you're at a karaoke competition instead of a meet with
Hardy takes note of the bow and raises a brow at Viktor. "So dis fella is a
new J in town er is he fixin Vik?" Hardy grins and adjusts the box from under one arm
to the other. He follows Viktor as directed but still asks the question in a low tone,
looking around the place and feeling definitely out of place.
Within the building, caged birds sing cheery tunes from the rafters of the wooden
building. Shelves upon shelves, some reaching up to the ceiling are stacked with jars,
all sealed and labeled with masking tape and permanent markers. The main room has a
variety of tables and chairs at which several residents of Chinatown take tea. A woman
in a bright red Qi Pao with soaring phoenixes on it brings items wrapped in beige
paper.
"You could call him a J, big guy," Viktor says as he pads along, "but a better title
would be 'community activist. Here," Viktor leads you through a hallway to a 'waiting
r
DB Dix, having some talent with languages given his collegate background in
medicine. Latin, not similar to Chinese, is difficult in its own right. A couple of
recitations later he has it perfect enough, though his acceent is definitely Souther
US. He also listens to the answer to Hardy's question. After handing off his gift to
the pretty chinese woman. He awaits meeting this 'community activist', which for him
translate to politician or poli-club rabble rouser.
Hardy takes a seat too, really uncomfortable in the regimented asian setting.
He hands his gift to the lady when Thog does, taking any cue he can get as to what in
the heck he is supposed to be doing here. He starts to pull out a cigar and thinks
better of it, putting it back into his pocket with a slight grumble. He looks to Thog
and widens his eyes in a rather helpless and restless gesture, showing his leevl of
discomfort.
"Hao, duo xie duo xie!" the Chinese woman beams and scurries off into a side office. A
few moments later, a middle aged Chinese man with a partially shaved head steps into
the room. Some of the nearby Chinatown residents stand and bow repeatedly to the man
and he smiles at them, gesturing to them to resume their tea.
Dressed in the same manner as Viktor, he walks with a fluid grace that is unrivalled
by most razorguys/gals and beams with seemingly limitless vital energy. A wide smile
fills his equally wide and flat face and his slits of eyes glimmer with happiness and
he presses his fist in his palm and bows to you, "Huan ying, huan ying ni men!" Viktor
returns the bow to the man, saying to his troggy friends, "He says 'welcome'"
Hardy mimics the greeting as shown to him by Viktor and grinds out, "Fank joo
for joo hospitality Huang Shi Fu…" Hardy looks towards Viktor quickly for
clarification that he did it right, just for a split second before turning his gaze
back to their host from within his bow.
DB Dix stands, then offers a bow, a bit deeper then Viktor offered him. He
repeats with almost no flaw the greeting taught just a few minutes ago by the same
pointed ear freak. To Viktor who seems to the designated translator, "I'm please to
meet you," bass voice and eyes directed to the host.
"Ta men shuo 'jiu nin hen gao xing, Huang shi fu'" Viktor beams at the two trogs. He
mouths "good job" as the man speaks up. "Huang shi fu invites you to have a seat,"
Viktor says, sitting himself down at the table. As everyone gets situated, the woman
returns with a tray and begins serving. Huang speaks up, his voice melodious and
cheerful. What he's saying, you're not sure until Viktor translates.
"Viktor tells me that the two of you are gentlemen and in need of some work. Indeed, I
understand that one of you has medical experience," the doctor smiles good-naturedly
before continuing. "I have a good friend in the Ute Sector. His name is Dr. Andros.
Would you please deliver a…" Viktor's face scrunches up and he asks the good doctor
to repeat himself. "Package to him."
Hardy waits until the lady is done serving and then tastes each item in turn,
"Your table is extremely well set Huang Shi Fu, thank you for your hospitailty." The
troll listens as the man speaks through Viktor and nods his understanding. He looks to
Viktor as if to see if the man is finished before speaking again.
Thog nods acknowledgement of his expertise, "Indeed," he starts looking to Viktor then
back to Dr Huang, "What package would require a humble medic to deliver to an esteemed
collegue of Huang Shi Fu?" falling back onto his years of college movie watching for
something approaching appropriate Chinese Etiquette, this spoken after Hardy's
compliment of the table.
Viktor translates Hardy' compliment and the doctor bursts into laughter. He rattles
off something, gesturing to the woman who blushes. "Huang shi fu says that it is his
wife you should be complimenting, were it not for her Po Chi Lam would be smouldering
ashes and he would be a pauper."
Viktor translates Thog's eloquently worded question and the doctor takes a sip of his
tea before explaining. "It is a very valuable jar of milk…" the doctor raises an
eyebrow at Viktor's translation and the two chuckle and the elf is corrected, "chuan
niu xi. It's a treatment for Dr. Andros' knees." Huang's smile becomes a half moon and
he waves his hand in the air, "He runs too much and his yang energy must be
corrected."
Cradling a cup of tea in his hand, the elf's face is framed in steam. He speaks up in
Chinese, asking a question…although everything they say sounds like a question. Damn
tonal languages. The doctor replies, "I have many enemies here that do not agree with
my philosophies. Their thugs will try to stop you. Should this happen, you should
relinquish the package and flee." Huang smiles and you feel a calm that you have not
felt since you were a child. The birds' song mingles wonderfully with the earthy taste
of the tea in your mouth. All is still. "A few grams of powder is not worth the lives
of two friends."
Hardy picks up his cup of tea and mimics the actions of Huang, hoping he is
doing the right thing. As he explains the troll watches him and trys to take notes of
gestures and such, maybe he can learn something from this. Who knows. Hardy asks, "So
ifn dey try ta stop us he jus want us ta slot an run? I fank him fer him concern but
ifn he pay meh ta do a job I wan ta do it fer him. No offense dere Vik, ifn dats da
way it is dats da way it is…" The troll tries to smile but really, how well can a
troll smile with all those tusks?
DB Dix nods slowly, "It is your instructions," he says in comment to the
warning given about the milk and emenies. Of course he doesn't have a reputation of
backing down easily either. "Your enemies must be powerful indeed, and since you count
us as friends, I will at the very least, will do this as a favor to you, Huang Shi
Fu," he looks to Hardy to see if he agrees or not.
Hardy takes Thog's lead and interjects, "As a favor to Huang Shi Fu, if dats
how it is den dats how it is…"
Viktor raises an eyebrow and questions Huang. Huang places a hand on the elf's forearm
and repeats himself. The elf looks back to the troll and shrugs, "He doesn't want
anyone to be hurt." Translating for Dix, the doctor replies, "All are friends within
Po Chi Lam and your generosity is greatly appreciated." The doctor stands, palming his
fist to the three of you again. "My wife shall bring you the package. Please, join me
again for tea when you return."
DB Dix stands and bows as well, this one a bit deeper then Huang Shi Fus.
Hardy takes his cue and stands with Thog and mimics the bow, holding it with
Thog and adding a chin up thrust to the end on his way out. You can take the trog out
of the streets but not the streets out of the trog.
Huang tai tai, Huang Wei Chen's wife returns and hands Viktor a jar wrapped in paper.
"Guess I'll walk with y'all," Viktor bids his farewell to the good doctor and hands
the jar to Thog.
Exitting the compound, Viktor begins walking into Chinatown proper, "Yo, lemme buy
y'all some ramen for we go, I'm hungry." Viktor looks at the two massive trolls and
then back at his credstick. "Shit, I ain't sure if I got enough for THAT much ramen."
Shrugging, he stops at a booth a few blocks down and places an order.
Thog chuckles, "It's alright, Peacock, I ate before I came over," he glances around as
they exit the compound taking in the surroundings and the people here. Is there anyone
out of place, someone trying too hard to be noticed or not noticed…
Hardy grins and follows Viktor out of the compound. He heads to the noodle
shop and takes a look around as a breeze picks up his shirt and flows it around his
torso. "Huh, dat weird..anyway fanks chum, Ill take a bowl, be a gud snack…"
"Peacock, man…you ain't never gonna let dat shit go, huh?" Viktor slots his stick
and comes back to the two trogs with two mighty bowls of ramen. Handing one to Hardy
with a ravenous grin, he begins shovelling the noodles into his mouth. "I jus'…nom
nom…gotta' grab…nom…my bike…nom nom nom…and we kin…
Pffff! Pffff!!! Pffffffffffffffff!!!! The three of you find yourself surrounded by
clouds of smoke rising from the ground. Viktor looks down, "What da…" Almost faster
than your trog eyes can reckon, a figure flashes from the sky in a flying kick that
connects solidly with Viktor's jaw. Head whipping around followed by his body, the elf
is unconscious in a moment.
The attacker stands above the unconscious elf, dressed entirely in black. He steps
around to face the two trolls and he flicks ramen from his black arm guard. Shadow
swirls about the figure menacingly and a black abyss stares out at the two of you from
where its eyes should be.
Hardy is completely surprised by the black pajamma brigade. He turns to look
at the Ninja standing over Viktor, a noodle hanging from his mouth as he does so. He
frowns at the black clad attacker and speaks with his mouth full of noodles. "I don
know what joo wan friend but joo askin in da wrong way, scan?" He still holds the bowl
under his chin, chopsticks in one hand, bowl in the other as he watches the ninja and
chews.
Hardy is completely surprised by the black pajamma brigade. He turns to look
at the Ninja standing over Viktor, a noodle hanging from his mouth as he does so. He
frowns at the black clad attacker and speaks with his mouth full of noodles. "I don
know what joo wan friend but joo askin in da wrong way, scan?" He still holds the bowl
under his chin, chopsticks in one hand, bowl in the other as he watches the ninja and
chews.
DB Dix is completely surprised by the pajama brigade. However gathering his
wits quickly he flicks a wrist producing a small heavy pistol that looks like a toy in
his hand. Holding it to the messenger bag that contains the milk he says, "Anyone does
anything else and I spill the milk."
The figure chuckles and the shadows licking and curling about his figure dance as it
begins walking toward Dix. The closer it gets, the darker everything becomes and a
feeling of ageless menace descends upon both of you. It stops at Dix's feet, standing
square with the troll. It's only human sized, but stands arrogantly unafraid. It
points to the jar.
Thog hears an ethereal voice whispering between his horns … «Give it to me or
suffer….»"
DB Dix's eyes flick towards Hardy, trying to gauge how the other trog will
react. Shrugging he removes the messenger bag from over his shoulder holding it by the
strap, the momentum of the swing causing it to pass between the two figures, with a
little extra flex he hurls the bag towards Hardy while doing is best to knee the
pajama man in the crotch.
Hardy watches the pajamma clad bad guy as it approaches Thog and lays down the
threat. Hardy rises and moves to Viktor, checking his pulse and breathing to make sure
the elf didnt get his hoop geeked. Hardy's attention is still on the ninja, so when he
stoops down and hears a HISS he is definitely surprised again. He looks down to find a
cat settled over Viktor in almost a protective manner. It hisses again at Hardy as he
checks the vitals on Viktor. Satisfied that the elf isnt dead, Hardy leaves the cat
with its prize and stands once more, his full height making him tower behind the ninja
as it speaks to Thog. The toss of the bag surprises Hardy once more and he moves
quickly to attempt to catch the bag while backing Thog's play.
DB Dix's deception wasn't all that great. Not only did the dude not follow the
bag, he anticipated the beefy knee coming at his croch. It's deftly deflected with a
return strike that drops the troll like a rag doll.
As the massive knee flashes forward, the figure simply vanishes, reappearing in a
split second above and behind the troll. Bending the rules of gravity, the ninja
slowly descends and in quick succession reachs out and taps four spots on the back of
the troll's head and neck. Heart 2, Kidney 4, Lung 4 and Stomach 1. Thog's central
nervous system is overloaded and the ninja lands softly on the fallen trog's chest.
Hardy reaches up a hand and catches the bag with the 'milk' out of the air.
The troll's visage is grave and he is unamused with the current state of affairs.
Every bone in his body wants to go down fighting with his friends but his sense of
reality takes hold. Viktor is out and catnip, Thog is down and an unknown. He has to
be the big boy here, not to mention there is the promise he made. He extends the bag
with the prize in it towards the ninja, "Alright joo fragger, take dis fing and blow
afore I ferget I gawt friens down ere and do sumfin equally as stupid…" He tosses
the bag at the ninja and follows it with a rather greasy glob of spit. If he cant hit
em with his fist he can damn sure piss em off.
The oppressive feeling of despair vanishes in an instant as the bag and the ninja fade
into the air. Trog spittle passes through the air where the figure was. The lingering
sound of laughter takes a few more moments to follow the ninja into the ether. After
the smoke clears, literally and figuratively, small children stare, mouth agape at the
once trio of veteran shadowrunners, two of which are unconscious and the other in a
state to destroy. It doesn't help that they are all metahumans either.
Thog drools while unconscious.
Viktor spazzes as the cat gives him sandpaper kisses.
Hardy moves to check the vitals on Thog, noting he is breathing and has a
pulse he frowns and checks for other injuries. Noting none he drags both of the down
friends into the noodle stall, pushing the inhabitants out of the way. He grabs a
bottle of water from the cooler and attempts to bring both of his friends back to
consciousness as best he can. He keeps an eye out for anyone who appears to interested
in the situation as well.
As the owners of the noodle shed start to protest, the big troll pulls out a
wad of bills and hands them to the owner, "Im buyin dis place fer ten minutes…jus
keep makin da noodles.." He turns back to the two unconscious on the floor and
continues to try and revive them with the cool water, occasionally having to try and
bat the weirdly possessive cat away from Viktor.
No dice. Both of these guys are out for the long term. Thog is completely unresponsive
to external stimulus and Vik too hard of a hit. The noodle shack owners look at the
bills with fear, unable to decide what to do. The cat perches on Viktor's chest,
kneading with its paws. It looks up to Hardy with sad eyes.
Hardy growls and makes an executive decision. He bends at the knee and hefts
Thog into a fireman's carry and literally tosses Viktor under his arm like a piece of
firewood. He turns to the noodleshop vendor and bows, this also allows the cat to jump
onto his other shoulder. He looks at the feline with less than amusement and
huffs.."Figures.."
Hardy makes his way out of the noodle stand and down the street to Po Chi Lam.
He passes through the partially open gate and approaches the room where he met with
the doctor and Thog. He sights the doctor's wife who's eyes widen in alarm before she
rushes off towards the room to fetch the doctor.
Hardy stands in the middle of the courtyard, quite the pose, troll in a
firemans carry, elf under an arm, cat on his shoulder.
With an exclamatory note, Mrs. Huang drops her broom to the courtyard and shuffles
quickly over to the large mass of metahumanity. Hurriedly she reaches out to grab the
unconscious troll-medic's forearm. Hefting it up, she begins to press on various
places by the elbow. Delicately placing her hand on his rough forehead, she huffs,
satisfied and ministers similarly to the elf. "In," she heads toward the inner
building, "Please. In."
Master Huang's wife appears quickly at his side, she speaks briefly to him in
hushed tones. Huang's eyes widen momentarily and he stands, "Excuse me please..enjoy
the tea and food, I shall return." He walks a few feet into the next room. Suddenly
the light from outside is eclipsed by a huge form in the doorway of that room. A troll
stands there, dressed for the streets and looking less than amused. He has another
troll over his shoulder in a firemans carry, a scarred looking elf under his arm like
a piece of firewood, and a rather mangy looking tabby cat on his shoulder. As they are
in the next room you can not hear thh conversation but it seems rather serious.
"Hmmm," Doctor Huang frowns, holding Thog's huge arm in a single hand. He repeats his
wife's diagnosis. Still speaking in Japanese, he says, "Damage to Heart, Stomach,
Lungs and Kidneys." Wordlessly, the graceful figure of Huang's wife glides into the
room where Rush and Tsunami are having tea.
"They will have to remain here today, my large friend," the doctor speaks, passing his
hand over a bowl of liquid which ignites into a soft, green flame, "I will care for
them."
Hardy huffs much like a dejected equine and nods, "Aight doc.." And he allows
himself to be led away, troll, elf and cat all in tow to another room for the doctor
to tend to them.
Huang ignites an end of a long needle and deftly slides it into Thog's shoulder. He
repeats this four times down the troll's arm. After a few minutes, the unconscious
troll returns to the world of the awake, feeling reinvigorated and refreshed. "Good
morning, my friend," Huang smiles and pats D.B. Dix on the chest, "I do not believe
you followed my directions." Standing, the doctor sings out in Cantonese directions to
his wife. "My wife shall attend to you. Relax and she will restore you in no time at
all."
DB Dix grins slightly, "Just a little knock on the head," he shakes his head
trying to clear the cobwebs more rapidly, "Nothing permanently broken, besides I'm not
known for backing down from someone that's a freak, especially one dressed in
pajama's."
In the backroom, Mrs. Huang smiles and shakes her head, indicating to the troll to
roll over. "No Engrish," she says simply, vigorously rubbing a flowery, scented oil
all over her hands.
Dix shrugs out of his jacket, now in need of dry cleaning for some reason,
then rolls over with pained grunts. Something had to wallop him pretty damn hard, the
bruising visible through the white button up shirt, mostly because of the lack of
undershirt.
WHAM! The woman's hand comes down in a flat, open palm on Dix's left shoulderblade.
The pain seems unbearable for a moment and thoughts of treachery pass through the
troll's wind when all of a sudden he feels considerably more alert and focuses, some
of the fog in his head dissipated. Jesus Christ this woman hits like a jackhammer!
Going to work on the rest of the troll's back and shoulders, she not-at-all gently
corrects the flow of his internal energy over the course of the next fifteen minutes.
After those minutes are up, Dix is feeling like a new trog. He can run faster, punch
harder and make love better than ever he could before.
Dix grunts with each strike, then sighs audibly. A couple of times, the sighs
or actually groans of pleasure which could at the very least be disturbing. After
fifteen minutes under the tenderizer call Dr Huang's wife and he is feeling much like
his old self.
"Good?" Mrs. Huang questions, her reserved manner back again. She wipes the oil from
her hands on a towel and smiles as a tabby cat, badly in need of grooming arches its
back and rubs against her legs, looking up at her.
The doctor arrives in Dix's room, his wife having lifted the tabby cat into her arms
and left. In proper English, he says "My apologies for your rude treatment." Stepping
forward, the man puts his face close to Dix's, peering into each eye individually.
Grunting with approval he withdraws a small baggy of flat, brown leaves. "Chew these
and leave them under your tongue for the next two hours."
DB Dix takes the leaves looking at them then nodding to the instructions. He
looks the Doctor squarely in the eye, "I know you said just to hand it over, however
sometimes to get a measure of who you're dealing with, you need to take a punch," he
rubs his jaw then shrugs, "besides our kind isn't known for backing down if there's a
glimmer of an out," about as close to an apology as Dix will ever come.
Smiling again, the Doctor nods with approval. "Very well, my large friend," the
doctor's eyes take on a glazed look but return to normal just a moment later. "You
have spirit. Return when your headache has subsided and we shall speak more. And of
course, drink tea." With a smile, the doctor reachs up and grasps Thog's shoulder and
gives it a squeeze.
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